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moonleeai · 1 year ago

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Thanks for reviewing Leah @colormepurplex2!!

I really loved this one ❤ 😍 ❤ 😍 ❤

Namaste Collab: Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Title : Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Pairing : Hoseok x female reader

Word Count: 13.8k

City/State : Kashmir / Goa

Timeline : February / March

Rating : Mature 18+

Genre : travel au, friends to lovers, fluff, baby angst, SMUT

Warnings: unprotected sex, slow burn, explicit language

Summary : Hoseok takes best friend duties seriously and makes it his mission to cure your winter blues. He intends well by surprising you with a tropical vacation but it starts off colder than anticipated. Hoseok fixes his mistake in time for the hot weather to stir something in both of you, but will his flirty nature hinder the flame?

AN: The meaning of the title is “the radiance of your smile/laugh”. Thank you Baby Queen Jiya @btsstan12 (ao3) for the beautiful banner. It’s so much more than I expected and I love love love it as much as I love love love you.

A huge shout out to Jasz @downbad4yoongi, Sara, and Kari for beta reading this and helping me so so much! xoxo

Special thanks to @sugarwithtea , @btsstan12 (ao3) and @apotatomashedbybts for having me in your desi BTS fanfic collaboration! It was so fun learning about India! I hope you like my take on it ☺

Read More Stories here: Namaste Collab Masterlist

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Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Life is so boring sometimes. The highlight of your month was buying a cordless vacuum for your newly renovated hardwood floors—adult things. You love your job as a dance director at your best friend Hoseok’s dance academy. He keeps the days entertaining, but you’re tired of repeating the days in the same ways. Today, after teaching the last class of college dance majors, you helped Hoseok do the nightly cleaning of the studio. He blasts hip-hop music and moves rhythmically around while sweeping, and you wipe down the mirrors, watching how his body flows to the beat like a graceful bird gliding in the wind. He glances over and catches you staring, you quickly look away and grumble.

“Hurry up, Seok. I wanna go home.”

“For what? It’s not like you have plans!”

He wasn’t wrong. Your best friend of a few years knew exactly what you were going to do tonight. Nothing; your favorite thing. He used to get offended when you wouldn’t come out to clubs but quickly realized you just enjoyed the comfort of being home. Once he learned that about you, he started inviting himself to your place instead.

Hoseok is a man of many talents, but he’s most known for dance and his ability to choreograph and practice until perfection, spotting any slight flaws in a millisecond. The hottest dancer there is, was, and will ever be. His presence is a force known as J. Hope or Jay, his stage name. Hoseok is an above-average gentleman, J. Hope is the motivator everyone needs at the end of an exhausting practice, and Jay– well, he’s the performer with the sultriest moves.

The next song comes on, and you both pull your faces into surprised expressions. The song-- Troy Sivan’s “Youth”-- was one of your favorite duo choreos from back in the day. Quickly, you both jump into place and begin the dance from muscle memory. This time though, you two are a little too close, and Hoseok decides to improvise; instead of grabbing your hand at the end, he pulls your wrist up, raising your arm above your head, making you spin, and your back firmly presses into his torso. He places his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying your bodies together. You can feel your temperature rising, and the need to melt into his hold almost takes over.

“Ahh…I love this dance!” Hoseok nearly screams in your ear, forcing you to pull away, hand over your ear. He laughs and goes back to cleaning while you’re glad to have a reason to walk away. Hoseok is a very touchy-feely friend, and it never bothered you until recently. During the holidays, you were both single and spent too much time together. Too much because now... now you think you’re falling for him.

You both like the same music, the same movies, and you both love to dance. So many of the holiday nights turned into spontaneous dance battles or deep conversations about those things you equally enjoyed. His laugh was beginning to be your favorite sound, like poetry in pretty handwriting. Every giggle and smile from him filled your soul with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You finish the mirrors and watch him two-step to the trash can. He glances over as if he can feel your eyes on him and gives his charming smile. The smile that drew you in and made you crave his friendship. He embodies comfort, like the feeling of a favorite oversized sweater on a cold day, wrapping you in warmth.

“Let’s stay here and dance.”

“No, Seok. I’m hungry.”

“We can order takeout.” He walks over and reaches for your hand, but you pull away, knowing you’d give in to whatever he wanted once the slightest spark ignited your bones from his touch.

“Let’s go to my place… it’s close; we can grab food and move the couch to dance. Plus, I have all the alcohol.”

Hoseok watches you, amused by all the layers of clothing you put on as if you’re preparing for a snowpocalypse and your strawberry lip balm. He knows you are a tropical person at heart, and every winter, you believe it just may be your last. Your beach-loving, sun-soaking spirit is having the most challenging time battling winter blues this year, and Hoseok is going to fix that. He’s been planning something and intends to tell you tonight. Only if you would give him the time to do so; he’s been dying to say something but hasn’t found the right time all night, and now you’re rushing to get home.

“Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

“Oh, I was just…lost in thought.” He throws a midweight jacket on, “Let’s go!”

“At least put this beanie on, Seok! You’re going to get sick one of these days!” A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he gently takes the hat and turns away from you to hide his flushed cheeks. He’s always faintly enjoyed you taking care of him.

After grabbing food and arriving at your apartment, you hurriedly remove your shoes, rush over to your freestanding electric fireplace, and turn it on. Hoseok, still at the door hanging his jacket, tells you to throw your jackets over to be hung. Then you both sit at your coffee table in front of the fire to eat.

“So, I’ve been wanting to tell you some news.”

“What news?”

“I’m going to close the academy for a week and go on vacation.”

“Va–? What! To where? When?!”

He stifles a grin and tots his tongue over his teeth, “India.”

“In–! Are you serious right now? By yourself?”

“Well…no. I bought two tickets and have everything planned out. A week in a tropical place–”

“Jeong Hoseok! Who are you going with?”

“I was hoping… you?” The last word comes out so soft and shy you almost miss it.

“You’re serious?” Hoseok nods his head yes to your question. “O–Okay! Yeah! I’ll go!”

Cutely, his shoulders rise as he half states and half questions, “Soooo… we’re… going to India?”

“We’re going to India!” I could kiss you right now!

But you don’t; you settle for a tight embrace and huge smiles before you both return to eating. After a few beats of awkward silence, you’re looking up pictures showing each other beaches and cabanas. The excitement is too much to hold in, and you both surrender to fits of giggles. Hoseok throws his body into your lap and you’re enchanted by his comfortable sound.

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On the plane, you sit back and get cozy in the oversized seat. Thankfully Hoseok splurged a little for business class. The dijon yellow cushions and extra pillows make it feel like you’re sitting on the couch in the tranquility of your home.

Achoo! You look up in disgust as you were just sprayed unexpectedly. A child in front of you stands in their seat, looking at you. Snot running from their nose is enough to tell you they probably have a cold but– achoo!-- the menace is sneezing directly at you. You swat at the air to rid your space of the germs and scrunch your nose at the kid, making them turn around in their seat.

“Let’s look up the places and try to plan what to see and what to do before you lay this kid out,” Hoseok says, pulling the reservation up on his phone.

“More than the beach?” You laugh because that’s all you want to do. Sit in the sand and sun, letting your body absorb enough heat that might keep you content until summer arrives.

“Well… I saw a boat ride on Dal Lake. The boats are pretty, and yes, the beach, of course.” He shows you a screenshot that he took of a row of wooden boats painted in pastel colors with vibrant cushions. The boats are beautifully resting on a still body of water, but the background catches your attention. There are snow-capped mountains exquisitely reflected in the lake. Snow-capped. Snow.

“Seok, when was this picture taken?”

“Mmm, I just got it off the internet.”

You connect your phone to the Wi-Fi and ask for the resort’s name.

“Well, it’s two hotels because the package is split into like a north and west tour. Gulmarg and Goa. It was rated pretty high.” He pulls up the reservation and shows you the booking. You type in the first name.

“Hmm... How do you spell the city?” The first picture that came up showed a building with a snow-covered roof.

Hoseok spells it out as you slowly type in the name along with ‘things to do’ and choose the first option. You notice a few pictures with snow again.

“Seok. Did you happen to check the weather for this time of year?”

“What? No. It’s India. Isn’t it always hot?” You both stare at each other. As quick as uncertainty weighed on your chest, his candied hazelnut eyes swept it away, sweet and syrupy, glazing over any discomfort.

“Let me see the reservation again.” Kolahoi Green Resort, Gulmarg. A luxury resort is nestled near India’s most popular spot for skiing. Skiing. I can’t strangle him on the plane. Reading on, you also see he’s booked a honeymoon package, whatever that means. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Seok…maybe you should read the whole resort description.” You tilt his phone toward him and hold your finger under ‘skiing’ and ‘honeymoon’.

His expression turns into a panic. Eyes wide, he covers his mouth with his hand.

“I am so sorry. I swear I booked the beach package! I saw honeymoon packages, but I didn’t think I chose that one. I was only looking at the differences in price.”

You pull the phone back and start reading the entire reservation. There is, in fact, a beach for four days, but only after the one by the ski lodge for three days. Three days in the cold, which you just left. To say all excitement has left your body is an understatement. You immediately begin thinking about the lack of clothes you packed. Your suitcase is full of cute sundresses, tank tops, and shorts. You don’t even remember packing jeans. Luckily, there are the sweatpants and hoodie you’re wearing on the plane. Maybe, just maybe, it’s warmer now. You look up the weather in hopes of quelling your thoughts.

“Seok, I don’t know if I have enough warm clothes for three days in the cold. The temperature is like 11 to 15 degrees Celsius. I– I only packed dresses and–”

“I’m sure we can buy some clothes somewhere. You can also wear some of mine; you know I overpacked hoodies and sweats.” He goes into compassion mode, a voice of reason. There’s always a solution to a problem; he does just that as you both continue talking. His voice is a soothing palette of neutral tones, easing you into solace.

“Yeah.” You turn and stare out the window with your hands tucked under your thighs. Hoseok can feel how disappointed you are and will spend these hopefully not-too-cold days doing whatever he can to see you smile.

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The resort is pretty. Not your cup of tea with the patches of snow still covering the surrounding property, but you can kind of see the appeal. The receptionist gives some information on the area and informs you that it’s the last weekend for skiing since it’s warming up.

Warming up. Ha! Skiing is the last thing on your mind, but Hoseok’s body wiggles, and his face lights up. When he turns to look at you, you return a small smile, feeling your cheeks heating up. As the receptionist hands over the key card, they congratulate you with best wishes, and you both walk away confused.

“What was that about?”

“No idea,” he rushes through those words to get to the next subject, “but would you want to snowboard tomorrow? The sign says they rent out everything, even snow gear.”

“Seok.” You press the button on the elevator, and the doors open instantly.

“Please! I promise I will do whatever you want if you do this with me!” Hoseok begs as the elevator ascends to your floor.

“I literally want to stay in a warm room the entire three days.”

“No way! The lake boat ride is here.”

“Okay. Then I want to be inside for the rest of the time.” You joke, waiting for him to open the door.

Hoseok scans the room key and holds the door open for you. You walk through and see pretty decorations. Gold balloon letters spelling ‘congratulations,’ flower petals leading to, as well as covering, the bed in a heart shape. The four-post bed has a canopy with sheer white linen cascading down, surrounded by fairy lights, illuminating a tray with a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and two glass flutes.

There’s only one bed.

Across from the bed is a large two-seater sofa in front of a gas fireplace. You walk further inside with Hoseok on your heels, following the flower petals that continue through sliding doors into a spa-like bathroom. Flameless tea lights and votives of various sizes cover every possible surface area. While everything is beautiful, you’re both still confused.

“What in the world?”

“Do you think they gave us the wrong room?”

You both walk back to the bedroom and find a card on the small table. You pick it up and read it aloud, “Congratulations, newlyweds. Best wishes from the Staff at Kolahi.”

Hoseok finds another note. “Look at this! It’s not a mistake. It has our names and ‘please call when you’re ready for your complimentary desserts.”

“You did book the honeymoon package, Hoseok!” You start laughing because, honestly, what else can go wrong?

Hoseok submerses in your laugh. He’s been worried, but now a warm tingle is stirring inside him, and his heart beats faster. He watches as you go back to the bathroom.

“Ah! It’s a jacuzzi! We have our own hot tub! I want to use this right now!”

Hoseok freezes at the words. A hot tub… in the room… where you both have to sleep… for three days. The beach is a vast open space, so being in a bikini among a sea of others is no big deal… but you’ll be wearing one so incredibly close. Intimately close. The blur of you walking by brings him back to the present.

He clears his throat as you walk to your suitcase, “Don’t you want to explore the area first? See what all is out there?”

“Oh. True. Yeah, let’s do that. We can use the jacuzzi to end the day. I could use a nap, too.”

“No naps. We have to get on this timezone. Come on! We’ll unpack later; let’s go look around.”

Down in the lobby, you sit on a loveseat in front of the fireplace while Hoseok talks to the receptionist. You pull out your phone and check to see how far the lake is that Hoseok is dead set on. It’s two hours away and all the way back by the airport. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, frustrated by the lack of planning. When you open them again, you see an activities book on a table next to you. You pick it up and start browsing through the pages.

There’s a gondola ride, shrine, temple, and three restaurants. Anything indoors sounds excellent. One of the restaurants is a glass igloo, and you immediately look for Hoseok to tell him, knowing he will love it.

He comes up beside you, and you flash the page so he can see the igloo.

“I was just about to tell you about that!” He plops down next to you, showing some notes he took on his phone from the receptionist. Pretty much everything in the book you’re holding. “They said the gondola is beautiful at sunset, so we could do that first. Then come back to eat–”

“Then jacuzzi!” You shriek, too excited for a night of relaxation.

Hoseok looks at you, baring a tight-lipped grin; your eyes trace the lines ending in dimples, then float to the mole on his upper lip. He unexpectedly jumps up, pulling you both from a haze and holds his hand out for you. You take it and make your way to the gondola.

Staring at the cables disappearing into the distance, you remember Hoseok’s fear of heights.

“Are you going to be able to do this?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”

You both continue following the small crowd and chatting. You were cold at first, but the constant conversation has seemingly kept you warm by occupying your mind. Or maybe it’s his presence.

Closer to the front, you can see that the ride is in two parts–ten minutes to the first stop and then twelve to the last. The gondola fits six, but with the small number of attendees, you get a cable car to yourself. You sit across each other and observe the surroundings as it ascends the mountainside.

“I feel so dumb.” Hoseok sighs after the statement.

“What? Why?” you ask while sliding your lip balm over your lips. Hoseok watches and notices the way your lips shine afterward.

“For one, not checking the weather. And two, I had no idea there were huge mountains here!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. Now we do.” You offer a smile, plumping your cheeks into two small plums. Hoseok melts into the seat, responds with a simple grin, and gazes back out the window.

You pass over pine trees and snow-submerged valleys. You stay on, opting not to get off at the first stop, and before you know it, you’re at the peak. You would’ve never known Hoseok was afraid of heights, at least on the outside. A frigid breeze slices across your bare face when you step off the gondola. Your body quakes as you follow people to a scenic point.

The setting sun plays peek-a-boo with the fluffy clouds, displaying pastel colors across the sky and a fiery glow on top of the mountains. Hoseok asks you to take fun photos of him, and you laugh while getting every angle possible. A lovely couple offers to take a picture of both of you, and you return the favor for them.

After a few more steps along the mountain’s edge, Hoseok grabs your wrist and starts jogging, “I’m done! It’s so cold!” You giggle, keeping up with him, and breathlessly throw yourselves back into a gondola. This time he sits next to you. When the door shuts, and the cable car begins descending, he wraps his arms around you. He wiggles and gets as close as possible, pulling you into him and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this; let’s warm up.” His warm breath strikes your neck, and a kaleidoscope of warmth ignites in your stomach. You rest your head against his and take a deep, shaky breath. That’s how you remain the entire ride down, quietly wrapped in each other as the light disappears from the sky. You’re tempted to ask what’s on his mind, but you also don’t want to read too much into his actions. He’s always been touchy in a friendly way, and you don’t want to ruin it.

After dinner, you walk back to the suite and discuss the delicious food. You can’t help but think about how great the hot water in the jacuzzi will feel. In the suite, you open your suitcase and pull out toiletries, pajamas, and bathing suits. You start to feel shy about the itty bitty fabric barely covering your ass. Hoseok watches you as your eyes flit from one to the other, then calls the receptionist to deliver the complimentary dessert, and then goes to turn on the water.

He comes back out with a robe for you as there’s a knock on the door. He gets the delivery and places it on the tray on the bed. You both marvel over the creative mithai charcuterie board; various ladoos, plain and chocolate-covered strawberries, sweet boondi, and kaju katli. After Hoseok takes a million pictures, he carries the tray of dessert and champagne into the bathroom and puts it on the shelf by the jacuzzi.

Coming back for the glasses, he mentions, “I’ll change in the bathroom. Take your time.” He closes the doors behind him, and you change before pulling the robe over your bikini. When you open the doors, he’s already in the water with the jets on full blast.

You stand at the edge of the jacuzzi, “Would you, maybe, close your eyes?” You chuckle before continuing, “This feels a little awkward.” He turns his head from you and closes his eyes with a massive grin. You drop the robe and quickly get in, sinking until the water is at your clavicle. “Okay. You can be normal again.”

Hoseok sits up, fills the champagne glasses and hands you one. “A toast to our buddymoon!”

You roll your eyes but still laugh, “You’re so corny.” You both clink your glasses and take a sip. “Did you try any of the desserts yet?”

“No. I wanted to wait for you. Do you want me to hold the tray in front of you?”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. Will you hand me one of the diamond thingies?”

“According to the little guide, that is kaju katli: cashews, sugar, cardamom, and ghee.” You reach for it, but he’s already bringing it to your lips. As you open your mouth and let the sweetness hit your tongue, your lips graze his fingers, and your eyes briefly meet before looking away. He grabs one for himself and rests back against the basin.

After some time, you’re on your last glasses, having finished the bottle, and feeling relaxed. You both have been chipping away at the dessert and reveling in all the deliciousness.

Deciding it’s been enough time in the jacuzzi, Hoseok stands, and you notice how his shorts cling to his thigh muscles; he pulls at the fabric, easing the clinging fabric away from his groin. He steps out, drying off haphazardly, and walks to the bedroom, closing the door behind him again. You get out and dry off before donning the robe back on to join him. Standing at the minifridge, he pulls out a bottle of rosé, but all you can see is his waistband resting low across his hips, dangerously low, exposing a faint happy trail under his belly button. The dips and hills are graciously defined on his stomach, and you feel a warmth overtake your body. You raise your hand to your cheek in hopes of hiding the flush.

“Are you drunk already?” Hoseok teases.

“No! It’s just… hot.” You roll your eyes and motion toward the new bottle, “Where’d that come from?”

“It was in the fridge. Strawberry time!” He places the wine by the fireplace sofa and returns to the jacuzzi to get the fruit. You can’t help but smile at his excitement and the little noises he makes with every step to and from the bathroom. He motions for you to sit, pours the drink, and hands you a glass. You both reach for the same strawberry from the tray and then giggle at the chances. He grabs it, reaches toward your mouth, and watches intently as your lips wrap around the heart-shaped fruit forming a perfect pouty circle. You can’t unsee his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip as his eyes glaze over, trapping your attention like a mosquito in amber sap. You remember to chew when his eyes break from yours and roam down your slightly open robe. You reach for the neckline to close it, and he turns away, grabbing a strawberry for himself before sliding against the back of the sofa. “You’re right… it’s really warm in here.”

You clear your throat, eyes on the flames. “So…one bed. Looks like we’re going to be pretty close.”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to have something to keep me warm tonight.”

The night ends with bellies full of wine and dessert and happily planning the next day of adventure. You have absolutely no desire to snowboard, but Hoseok’s sunshine smile and light laughter seep into your heart. You want nothing more than to continue seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.

In the bed, you both lie facing the ceiling like statues when he breaks the silence. “Can we like… cuddle?”

You snicker at first, but the idea of it sounds lovely. “Sure, why not.”

Hoseok falls asleep quickly with his arms and legs wrapped around and over you, while you lay there, calming your racing heart in his grasp.

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Slightly waking, you adjust your body, rolling on your side as something rigid grazes your hip, eliciting a hiss from Hoseok. “Shit! Sorry, Seok!” Startled, you sit up and fling your legs over the bedside, jolting yourself awake.

“You didn’t have to jump away. It just–”

“No, no. I should get up anyway. Snowboarding, right? Let me start getting ready.

Ignoring everything that happened, you both take turns in the bathroom to get ready and head to the lobby area. First, you stop in the gift shop and buy matching ‘I love Kashmir’ long-sleeve t-shirts to go under your hoodies, then proceed to the rental shop. You’re not thrilled while standing in line, dreading the cold and the effort and energy snowboarding takes, but your soul is soaking in the radiant smile coming from Hoseok.

To add more dread, you had hoped to look at least cute while being drained of all excitement, but the shop has the hottest trends from the 1990s in snow bibs, boots, and boards. You settle for the rose brown and black gear and a snowboard with a pale purple bottom. Hoseok, on the other hand, chose to pair the ugliest of every color together and call it ‘fashion.’ You won’t lose him in the crowd.

A few passes on the bunny slope, and you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. As you both glide over the lift, you look for the signage that informs riders which slopes are the easiest to hardest—usually, a color scale. Here, there are only signs stating zones one through four.

“How do we know where to get off?” you ask while staring, puzzled at the signs.

“Beginner slopes are always the first stop, I think.”

“Seok! I need facts, not guesses. Didn’t the brochure say the locals use the first one to get around to other villages?” Hoseok shrugs and continues with the flow of the line. When you reach the front of the line, Hoseok asks the operator where to get off and they confirm ‘one.’

“I guess it’ll be a surprise.” Your nerves are a wreck, and as much as you want to have fun, for Hoseok’s sake, you can’t get into the right mindset.

You both get off at the first stop and glide down the path to make way for others behind you when you quickly realize this slope is not for you. It’s not steep, but the rivets and snow conditions make it least favorable for a novice like yourself.

Hoseok yells that he’ll meet you at the bottom, and you watch as he gracefully swoops across the mountain slope. You watch a woman wearing neon teal pants drift delicately right behind him. How you wish that were you.

You ride on your heels the first bit, destroying your thigh muscles like lava is coursing through the veins. You glide to the side, out of the main path, and fall on your butt to take a break. Watching people pass by, even kids, you curse under your breath and hold back tears of frustration. A pep talk would be nice, but the one best at those just left you to your demise.

A few deep breaths, and one too many children passing you, gives you very little motivation but enough to hop back up and continue down the slope. Your thighs are on fire, but you alleviate the pain by using other muscles, which also gives more speed-- speed you don’t want. You panic and tense up, causing you to dig your toes too far into the snow, making the edge catch, and you brace for impact. You hit the ground face first, so hard your body goes into a forward roll; your goggles rip off as your head clashes with the firm snow, and all air expels from your lungs.

Hoseok yells your name a few times from behind and stops next to you frantically.

“Are you o– is there– are you hurt?!”

You take a few short breaths to test your lungs for proper functionality. Quietly you let out, “No but– that hurt. So fucking bad!” Then tears begin to prickle, and emotions are ready to boil over, “I’m done! I didn’t come here to be freezing my ass off in the snow or to be bundled up like this!” You break down into the ugliest of cries while your shoulders bounce up and down from the force of your sobs. “I wanna go back to the rooooooom,” you whine while sniveling.

You look at Hoseok through hazy eyes, but his face turns away from you. He is likely holding back a giggle in hopes of not upsetting you more. He clears his throat and faces you with a gentle smile and twinkle in his eyes. It soothes you enough that tears stop falling, and you begin to feel warm. Hoseok pats your head and uses his glove to wipe your face, then rests his hand on yours.

“Let’s take the boards off and walk down. I’ll get you some spiked hot chocolate.” You nod your head, and he unclasps your bindings first.

Walking down the mountain silently makes you feel bad for what you said.

At the bottom, you prop the boards in the holding area when the woman in neon pants appears. You watch as a scene from a drama unfolds, and before you know it, Hoseok is walking with her as they flirt back and forth. Your eyes dance between the two, noticing how smiley they are. You feel like an outsider. Your hand is balled tightly by your side, and when you can’t stand the pain of your nails digging into your palm any longer, you shake it off and walk past them into the lodge.

You order your drink and find a table to sit at. Jealousy has reared its ugly head, and you’re fighting with yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You can’t feel this way for your best friend. You take a sip and let the alcohol flush the jealousy down into the pit of your stomach.

Hoseok finds you and sits beside you with his body angled toward you. “Here you are. Why’d you leave?”

“If you want to keep riding, go ahead. I don’t want to make you miserable.”

He reaches up and places both hands on the sides of your cheeks. His thumbs swoop under your eyes, wiping the last remnants of tears. “I promise you. I’m having a great time.”

Radiant. His warm touch and kind words weave into your soul alongside the space occupied by his smile and laugh. Serene. Your body relaxes in the window seat and immediately feels every ache and pain from your tumble. You roll your neck around and pause in the areas that need more stretching.

“Do you want to get a massage?” He pulls out his phone, “I’m pretty sure I saw one here.”

“No, no. A good stretch and maybe the jacuzzi will be enough.” You both stare out the window at the snow-covered nature. Taking a gulp of courage, you say, “Sorry, Seok. What I said on the slope was mean, rude, and uncalled for.”

“Would you stop that? I had fun, now let’s do something you want. You wanna get in the jacuzzi then order in for dinner?” Hoseok notices how your eyes light up like a candle at the mention of food.

“Yes! Let’s get different dishes to try new stuff. Chicken and beef, maybe?” Now it’s your turn to pull out your phone and find the room service menu you took pictures of. “Oh, look, lamb! Butter chicken and lamb biryani? Or maybe curry? Oh! Hummus! And garlic naan! What?! There’s so much!”

“I love how excited you get over food.” He chuckles, “I’ll look up pictures, and if it looks good, we get it.”

You replay his words in your mind. Love. How did he mean that? Does he feel something like you? Or was it more of a friendly love? You glance his way, eyes soaking in his profile. You must’ve stared a little too long because he meets your gaze. Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped lips, and you can’t help but wonder if they feel as pillowy as they look.

“You okay?” His voice forces you to finally blink and look down at his phone.

“Yeah. This set looks good.” You point to a picture, and he takes a look.

“Okay. It’s settled. I’ll order while you’re getting blasted by the jets.”

Finished with your drinks, you return all the snow gear to the rental shop and head to the suite. Hoseok runs the water for you and turns on some of the flameless tea lights. He sets his phone in the corner, plays a Lofi Bollywood playlist, shuts off the light fixture, and walks out. You carry your bathing suit into the bathroom and close the door.

Hoseok lies on the couch, closes his eyes, and surrenders to the sound of the jets and soft music. He imagines the bubbles around your collarbones; your eyes closed, body relaxed. A throb sends a jolt through his stomach, but he places a hand on his groin and adjusts to calm himself down. You call for him, and his body freezes, lifting his head to ensure you’re not standing there.

“Come join me. I’m bored, and this music is so relaxing. I think you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I can hear it out here.”

“Please?”

There’s a flutter in his chest, and he’s changing to join you.

You smile at him as he walks through the threshold and close your eyes when he enters the basin. You both don’t say a word but enjoy every second of your closeness. The water feels electrified as you chat away.

Later, with bodies relaxed and bellies full, Hoseok pulls you into a hug on the couch.

“I hope you’re having an okay time. I’m excited to see all the cute dresses you packed for the beach tomorrow.”

“Any time spent with you is a great time, Seokie. Thanks for bringing me. I promise not to throw any more tantrums,” you chuckle at the last word and pinch his ribs in an effort to break away.

“Hey!” He laughs and smacks you with a pillow. “Wanna finish the night watching the sunset from the balcony? Then a nightcap by the fire?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You couldn’t think of any other way you’d love to spend the evening. Well, maybe cuddling again, but for now, sunset and a drink with your best friend, who you adore, and possibly more, sounds like a truly perfect night.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

A few hours later, Hoseok wakes to vibrations in the bed and discovers you shivering. He pulls the quilt up to your neck and wraps his limbs around you before feeling that you are soaked. He sits up, trying to see anything in the pitch black, getting his eyes to focus on you. He swipes his hand across your forehead and gasps at the heat that comes off you. He briskly walks to the bathroom, turns the light on low, then kneels by your bedside to better understand what’s happening. You whine as he tries to wake you.

He calls your name softly while rubbing a hand down your back, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“S–so cold,” you mutter as he watches sweat bead on your forehead.

“I’m gonna go get you medicine. Drink some of this water for now.” He helps sit you up against some pillows and slowly guides the water bottle to your lips. After a few sips, he hurries out of the room and to the lobby mini-mart in hopes of getting you something to aid in breaking your fever.

When he comes back into the room with two rustling bags, you look at his hands bewildered. He unpacks an array onto your side table: ginger tea, bananas, children’s applesauce squeeze bags, chicken noodle soup, a box of jello, orange juice, and Gatorade.

“I thought you were getting medicine?”

“I mean, these are the natural way, right? But I have more.” He grabs the second bag and unpacks a variety of cold medicine in liquid and pill forms.

“Seok! What–” Your head pounds at your words, and you close your eyes as if that will stop it. You take a deep breath, open your eyes and turn toward the side table. You reach for the box of jello and scoff, “How were you going to make this?”

“Hmm…not sure, but I will figure it out if you want it.” He grabs the box from you and starts reading the directions.

“Seok, I probably just have a cold from that kid sneezing on me. A fever at most; I’m not puking.”

“Right! Um…tea? Soup?”

“How about medicine and a cool rag so I can go back to sleep?” You smile at his thoughtfulness, but keeping your eyes open becomes more difficult.

Hoseok opens the medicine, opting for a liquid form, and brings it to your lips to drink. Then he grabs a cool cloth for you, places it over your forehead, and gently rubs his hand over your hair. You scoot down to lie comfortably and begin to relax again. You hear Hoseok rustling around, turning off lights, and getting changed for bed again. He snuggles up close to you, wrapping you in his hold. You can feel yourself drifting into dreamland when his hushed voice brushes the side of your neck.

“I went overboard, huh?”

“I didn’t expect anything less from my Seokie,” you whisper. He warms at your words and buries himself further into you. Even with a fever, you could still feel his radiance healing you deep inside.

Sometime in the twilight hours, Hoseok woke again, but this time you were talking…or more like mumbling. He raised his head and blinked heavily several times to ward off the grogginess.

“I like your lips.” He heard you say softly.

“Hm?” he asked quietly.

“Heart-shaped clouds. Pretty clouds.” He grinned, feeling a kaleidoscope swarm in his belly, then leaned into you and kissed your cheek. He watched as a smile swept across your lips and thought you looked like an angel, fast asleep.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The next morning you feel like a brand new person. You stretch and realize Hoseok isn’t next to you. You sit up, and just as you’re about to call for him, he walks in with a beaming smile and a mug of ginger tea. He hands it to you as you make room for him to sit.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. How are you feeling?”

“So much better! I’m glad it was just overnight. We have so much more to see!”

Hoseok clears his throat and looks toward the ground, “Do you happen to remember what you dreamt about last night?”

“Dream?” You think for a few seconds, “I don’t think I had any,” you lie, bringing the mug to your mouth. You did remember. However, you weren’t going to tell him you dreamt of his lips, soft and pillowy, pressed against yours. Or how his hands felt like heaven as they rested on your waist while his tongue moved slowly over yours. A heat was creeping up your neck from the recollection.

“None at all?”

“Nope. Why?”

“No reason. I just thought I heard you say something in your sleep.” Hoseok snickers and hops off the bed.

“What? What did I say?”

Hoseok sing-songs from the other room, “Just nonsense.”

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Today was a smidge warmer than the others, and for that, you were thankful because Hoseok was still dead set on taking a shikara ride on Dal Lake. With your suitcases in the trunk, the taxi made its way to Srinagar. You asked the driver about the weather and how cold it may be on the lake. He reassured you the boatmen would have blankets to help keep you warm.

When you arrived, the scenic view took your breath away. The snow-capped mountains staggered along the horizon against an unblemished blue sky, towering over their reflection on the lake. Your suitcases were taken to a houseboat for courtesy storage, and you both set foot on the shikara—a beautiful wooden yellow boat with a half-bed on one side and a bench on the other. The cushion is covered in red velvet with a black floral print, and the boat’s roof has vibrant blue curtains draping down but drawn back elegantly so you can see the scenery. As you get comfortable among the cushions, the man hands you a rich red and gold-toned blanket.

The man rows and speaks, “Welcome to the second-largest lake in the Kashmir valley. We call it the ‘Jewel in the crown of Kashmir’.”

“May I ask why?” you question.

“Well, not only is it an important source of fishing and water plant harvesting, but it’s also a beautiful, tranquil piece of nature. It sits against the backdrop of the gorgeous Himalayas.”

He continued to explain that people live in the houseboats lined along the bank. How the lake was usually bustling in the warmer months with floating markets and locals selling food and drinks. A few were working, but it wasn’t worth it without many tourists. He rowed to a houseboat with a shop where you bought hot tea and then navigated to a souvenir market where you bought a few trinkets for memories.

The guide continued his journey around the lake while you and Hoseok snapped pictures and awed at the beauty over and over. With the Himalayas in the background, the guide slows the boat to a stop and gestures toward a chest full of garments, traditional Kashmiri attire with authentic accessories.

“Would you like to put some on for a picture?”

“Oh! Um it’s–” you begin, but the guide cuts you off.

“Honeymoon package, yes?” You and Hoseok look at each other and smile.

“Right…yes.” You reach for a magenta ghunghat with a gold embroidered border and drape it over your head, “Like this?”

“Yes, yes. Beautiful.” The guide takes a few shots at different angles and then commands, “Now kiss.”

“I’m sorry?!” You both bark but with smiles.

“Newlywed pose! You must kiss with this background.” The man gestures his hand around, emphasizing the beautiful scenery.

While he’s right about the scenery, you can’t help but wonder if he would be offended if you said there was a mistake. You’re not really newlyweds. You turn toward Hoseok, who is already grinning from ear to ear. Hoseok giggles and you can feel your body flush, even in the cold air.

“It’s just a kiss,” Hoseok says calmly. The way the words and your name flow from his mouth is music to your ears. They float around your head and cause a dizzy spell as his lips creep toward yours. The subtle touch of his lips sends you into a freefall from the top of the mountain. Your heart shivers as he ignites a flame, thawing winter and bringing spring to life.

The guide clears his throat, and Hoseok pulls away first. Just a kiss that has now set a fire within your heart.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

There was mostly small talk from Dal Lake to the airport and even less on the plane to Goa. You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, especially with the one who ignited them and probably didn’t feel the same.

You watched episode after episode but had no idea what the story was because you were playing the kiss repeatedly in your mind. You tried to nap but were restless from the lingering tingle of that moment. Hoseok, on the other hand, was sound asleep. One more reason you knew he didn’t feel anything.

Hoseok faked being asleep, shoving his feelings away and jamming them so far down they couldn’t threaten to escape in a confession right there in row seven. He would peek and steal glimpses of you, and when you had your eyes closed, he would trace his finger over his lips, craving to taste your strawberry lip balm again, yearning to feel– whatever that feeling was deep in his stomach when your mouth molded to his.

The taxi ride to the beachfront hotel is full of excitement. Already the weather was hotter, and you could smell the salt in the air. You hung your hand out of the open window, making the slightest little movements to your fingers to let the wind carry your hand into ‘catching waves.’ Hoseok basked in your happiness and watched the wind breeze across your face and jostle loose strands of hair.

Check-in to the hotel was smooth, and you were given yet another honeymoon suite, much like a villa. Although this time, you couldn’t complain. You felt like a liar but also spoiled and enjoyed every minute. This luxury villa has its own personal plunge pool surrounded by tropical plants and flowers. The lush lawn surrounding the pool and the gorgeous view of the sea from the verandah made the setting a romantic oasis.

Staring out at sea, Hoseok’s hand brushes your lower back, sending chills down your spine. “What do you want to do tonight?” he asks softly.

“You wanna just hang out here and adventure out tomorrow? We could swim and eat dinner. There’s still a few hours before sunset; maybe we could watch it from here?” You feel yourself rambling, but if you stopped, the feelings from earlier would surely emerge again. Your mind begins spiraling, wondering if staying in was a bad idea. Maybe out in public, you wouldn’t be nervous, you would be able to act normal. “Or–”

“I like that idea,” Hoseok quickly cements the plan to be together, alone, in your villa.

Not much later, you’ve ordered a pitcher of a coconut-based cocktail to drink during your swim. Dinner and wine are set to be delivered before sunset. Music plays while Hoseok lays on an inflatable pool float, and you lay on a chaise to soak in some of the sun you’ve been dying to stain your skin. Twenty scorching minutes later, you’re ready to cool off. You reach for Hoseok’s cup and pour both of you another before setting the pitcher closer to the pool’s edge and make your way into the refreshing water.

Hoseok has been watching from behind his sunglasses. The way the sun illuminates your skin and accentuates every curve. The barely there bathing suit covers just enough, letting his imagination go wild, too wild. An ache arises between his legs, and he groans before falling into the water to cool off and calm down.

You walk over to Hoseok’s float, and he swims to meet you there. Handing him both glasses over the float, you dip into the water and then rest your arms on the other side.

“What is on your agenda here, Seokie?”

“Mmmm, well, I thought you would just want to lay on the beach all day, so I didn’t actually plan anything. There’s water sports, some old monuments, and lots of clubs and parties. I think I saw something about a sunset cruise.”

“While all that sounds interesting…I am only interested in sun, sand, and saltwater! But, for you, my Seokie, I will make an exception for parties and maybe a cruise.”

You raise your glass toward Hoseok, and he matches your gesture, clinking his glass against yours. You both chug back the contents, finishing the liquid. Hoseok takes the cups to the side of the pool and fills them again.

“Let’s go sit in the little nook.” Hoseok nods toward the built-in bench. It’s so tranquil; you both are leaning back, eyes closed, with your arms resting on the stone surrounding the pool. Hoseok speaks first, “I kinda like when you call me your Seokie.”

Your heart gallops at the sound of his voice. Slowly, you open your eyes and turn your head, catching sight of his lips. Your bottom lip curls between your teeth, but as your eyes rise, something catches your attention over his shoulder: a not-so-cute gecko inches from his arm.

“It’s a cute nickname, yeah? Can we switch seats? I think the sun is better where you are.” You tell a quick fib hoping to keep him calm. “I’ll go over you; just slide this way.”

Hoseok obliges, and as you’re straddling his lap. His eyes can’t help but fixate on your chest. He lets out a huff of air which hits between your breasts, triggering goosebumps to rush over your skin. You ignore the sensation and cup some water in your hand to splash the reptile away, but Hoseok’s hand touches your leg lightly, drawing your attention. You look down at him with dreamy eyes. His candied hazelnut richness sticks to your soul and pulls your heart with its gooey sap. Your skin tingles as you recall the kiss on the lake while his other hand slowly slides up your other leg.

Then, the universe had other plans, changing time into slow motion.

The gecko betrays you, moving just enough to attract attention. Hoseok jerks under you, squeals, and stands up, sending you back into the pool. As you swim back to the nook, Hoseok prances and yips his way back into the villa.

You giggle and rise to your feet to step out and refill drinks. You call out while pouring the last of the cocktail mix, “Seokie, it’s safe!”

He peeks his head out of the cracked door, “You sure?”

“Yes, scaredy cat, come on.”

Hoseok slowly walks out, watching where he steps, then takes the glass from you. “Dinner should be here soon. We should get cleaned up and go inside.”

“I wanna watch the sunset while we eat.”

“We can see it from the window. There are things out here.”

“I thought we were gonna do what I wanted since I endured the freezing cold and went snowboarding and got sick,” you whine.

Hoseok’s lips stretch in a straight line across his face, and his dimples make a full display. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, moving toward you to grab your hands with his. “For you, I will eat with the creatures.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff and try to pull away, but Hoseok doesn’t let go. You scrunch your eyebrows and search his face for a reason, but he only smiles with a gaze that caresses your soul. Hoseok seems like he wants to say something, so you wait; his mouth opens as the doorbell sounds.

“Food delivery.” Hoseok releases your hands and walks toward the door. You stand there for a second longer, trying to assess what just happened.

The food is brought in by multiple staff and laid out gorgeously on the dinette, and each dish has a tag placed next to it with a description. An oversized center plate has fish thali and a few smaller plates and bowls with rice, crab masala, butter-garlic calamari, vindaloo, and naan. They also placed dessert trays full of sweet bread with perad– or guava cheese– sweet turmeric cakes called patoleo, and a bowl of melted chocolate surrounded by coconut cookies. To make things even better, two bottles of alcohol that are popular in the area, coconut Feni and a rich Syrah wine from a local vineyard, are provided with the food.

The staff leaves and your stomach rumbles in the silence. Apparently loud enough for Hoseok to hear as well.

“Wow! You must really be hungry. I’ll make the plates; you pour the drinks.”

Time passes too quickly while eating on the verandah. The two of you have yet to run out of things to talk about, and this new adventure to India has just given you even more to discuss.

Delicious food, full-bodied wine, and a sunset later, you take a dip in the pool one last time before heading to bed. It’s illuminated with soft purple lights, giving off a milky way appearance. Hoseok sets up the Lofi Bollywood playlist again, and you both float peacefully together.

When the peppery syrah runs out, you’re both tipsy and a little tired from being in the sun for most of the day. You both have kept your distance, mostly just floating on the pool floats and admiring the star-studded sky. When you both decide to clean up and call it a night, you stumble inside after each other, laughing and pulling at one another to get to the shower first.

Hoseok wins by a quick battle of rock, paper, scissors and is off to shower first. You take another gander at the food and do some picking before grabbing your clothes to change into.

When Hoseok walks out with only a towel, your mind goes blank while your eyes fixate on a few drops of water beading along his v-line. He voices it’s your turn, and you quickly grab your clothes, beelining to the bathroom. Hoping the warm water would sober you up before bed was wishful thinking. When you step out to grab your towel, you lose your balance, bang into the wall, and start giggling to yourself.

“You okay in there? Did you fall?”

“Nope! Just a little…bump. I’m fine!”

“Do you need…help?”

“No! I’m not dressed, Seok! Don’t come in!” You can feel your cheeks flush a hot crimson while you dry off. Why is his voice so sexy right now? You wrap the towel around you and look in the mirror, then tap your hands on your face a few times. The sound of music grabs your attention, so you snap out of it and reach for your clothes. Only to find there is just a T-shirt. Somehow you forgot underwear. You shake your head and put your shirt on, realizing it’s not yours.

Well, this will be awkward. You open the door and scan the room for Hoseok, but he must be in the other room. Before he notices, you beeline to your suitcase to find your hairbrush, undergarments, and another shirt that’s not his. You find everything and turn to go back into the bathroom.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks from the threshold. You wince at being caught red-handed.

“I accidentally grabbed it! Sorry! I know you hate when people wear your clothes. I came out to get my shirt, and I will change.” You lift your hand to show your shirt and inch back to the bathroom, but something holds you back. Hoseok’s hand is around your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Let’s go dance.”

“Let me finish getting dressed.”

“Nope!” Hoseok pulls you into the other room, where he’s moved some furniture and made space for dancing. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he pulled you into him, taking the items from your hand and tossing them onto the nearby chair. That’s when you see you grabbed a lacey lavender thong instead of the boy shorts you usually wear when sleeping. Embarrassed, you go to hide them, but he keeps a firm grip.

“Seok, I need to finish getting dressed.”

“You’re dressed enough. Dance with me,” he whines, and you search his eyes for any hint of his mood.

“You’re kinda cute when you whine,” you tease and bop his nose with your finger.

“And you’re kinda cute in my shirt.”

His words take you by surprise, and you look away but his hand catches your chin and pulls your attention back to him. You look into each other’s eyes as he sways you back and forth. He smiles and you feel warmth bore into your skin. He removes the towel from your head and drops it to the ground. Your mind is already foggy from the wine, but now this– whatever this is– adds to the cloud. He raises your hand above your head, making you spin. You clutch at the hem of your shirt as it lifts, exposing the side of your upper thigh and buttcheek. Hoseok pulls you back into him, face to face, and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, maintaining eye contact. You’re dizzy; from the wine or the spin, maybe both. The music you forgot was playing stops abruptly, and you both stutter-step, clashing your feet together.

“I guess we’re tipsy, huh?” he says just above your ear. “Maybe we should get to bed. We have to wake up early for the tour, right?” He hugs you tight, then walks toward the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your thoughts. Your body, hotter than the sun, almost collapses under your weak knees.

Completely forgetting about your hair and undergarments, you follow in his footsteps. All of the lights are off save for the one on your side of the bed. Hoseok is waiting for you, covers lifted for you to get in. You sit on the bed and reach to turn the light out, then assume the position you’ve been sleeping in for days. As you scoot back into Hoseok, his arm rests just under your breasts, his hand sliding between your ribs and the bed. You can feel how the shirt has bunched under his arm, and the hem rests just above the bottom of your butt.

Hoseok thinks about how close he was to kissing you again, feeling your lips rest on his. He can feel how doughy your breasts feel on his arm, and he’s fighting the urge to squeeze them in his hands. He imagines how they would fit perfectly in his palm, his fingers massaging into your flesh. He tilts his pelvis back a little, feeling a sensation between his legs, and he lets out a sigh.

Hoseok’s breath tickles the back of your ear, sending a vibration down your spine, your back arches sending your ass into his half-hardened member. He pulls his lower half back from you and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“S–sorry, Seok.”

“Please be still,” he whispers.

Hoseok raises his head only for his wet lips to catch the skin on your neck. You gasp and stir again, sending his hips into a frenzy. Unable to ignore the feeling, he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. Your hips roll again, this time against a rock-hard Hoseok. He lets out a shaky breath, and his arm across your chest pulls you closer.

“I want you,” he mutters along with your name against the crook of your neck before dusting your neck and shoulder with his lips. He pulls his arm from your chest and brushes the underside of your breasts. His hand traces your ribs and follows the curve of your body. He stops on your hip, digs his fingers into your flesh, then does the same to your breasts while slowly thrusting into your backside. He feels good. Too good. He pushes himself up onto his elbow and pulls you under him.

It’s dark, but he still searches for your eyes when he places his hands on either side of your head, then lowers his body onto you. His lips, those beautiful lips, push onto yours and part them just enough for his tongue to swipe across yours. You follow his lead and press your tongue to his, your hand snaking up to his nape and the other dragging your nails down his back. Hoseok shivers and moans, moving one hand to your ass, pulling you into his throbbing manhood. He grinds against your aroused button and swallows the mewl that escapes your mouth.

You feel euphoric, and part of you wants to go all in with Hoseok. The sober part realizes this may just be the alcohol speaking. You wouldn’t regret it, but what if he will? What if his flirty self isn’t thinking straight and is just being a man chasing his sexual desires in the moment? Hoseok lets go of your ass and moves his thumb against your core; he coats his thumb in your slick and uses it to slide against your nub with intense pressure and slow rubbing. Juicy lips wedge together between his tongue, languidly dragging it along yours.

“Wait, Seok. Wait,” you mumble against his lips breathlessly. He stills and meets your eyes. “May–maybe we should wait until we’re both completely sober.”

Hoseok passionately kisses you again, following an imaginary line down your jaw to your neck. He sucks the skin into his mouth gently. “Is that what you want?” His teeth graze your clavicle, then he nibbles and chuckles at your arching body. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His weight is crushing you, much like the words– suffocating your senses– and there is no way out. There isn’t enough air to help you overcome the punch to the gut. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It sounds like something someone would say when they were just scratching that itch.

“I–I think it’s best,” your voice trails off like you have more to say, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Okay. You’re probably right.” He briefly stays on top of you, then slides off to your side. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line.”

“That’s not it… I don’t want us to regret anything we did while intoxicated.”

“Makes sense.” There’s a long pause before he continues, “Can I still use you as my body pillow?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

It doesn’t have to mean anything. Easy for him to say.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The four days in Goa are going quickly, too quickly. You’ve mostly spent them relaxing on the beach, finding adorable cafes, and avoiding what happened and what was said the first night. Even though you said you only wanted to sunbathe and party, you made sure to experience the local culture.

You walked a beautiful heritage tour through a place blending Portuguese and Indian traditions. The quaint streets were lined with traditional Portuguese-style homes in a palette of bold, bright colors—breathtaking preservation of heritage amongst modern development.

One day also consisted of a bus ride to the jungle and trekking to a waterfall. The private tour guide told you the water had minerals like a natural spa where you could sit and relax to rejuvenate, but they forgot to mention the little fish that would surround you, and Hoseok’s scream was too embarrassing to stay.

Today was your last full day, and you were determined to soak up every last second you could in the sun. The morning was spent walking along the shoreline, and this afternoon was spent by the pool. You promised Hoseok tonight would be spent at the club because it was the last night to do so. He wanted to dance badly.

You made sure to have enough time for a shower and a nap. The nap turned into another cuddle session that was quickly becoming your favorite way to sleep. The way Hoseok’s body molded to yours felt too good ever to let go. You were also growing accustomed to his warmth and how his lips would sometimes skim over your skin. But you kept a wall around your heart again, only thinking of it as a friendly snuggle.

It was time to get ready for the club, so you took your outfit into the bathroom. Hoseok gets dressed into his white button-down shirt and yellow shorts, then begins making pregame drinks, and you can hear him making little sounds while he concentrates. It made you recall a few nights ago; you heard little moans while his body subtly rutted into yours. You didn’t wake him or mention it because it was thrilling and made you want more. You wanted to take his hand and place it where you really needed to feel the friction...

“Do you need help in there?” Hoseok says right outside the door.

You shook your head, looking in the mirror, wondering when you even got dressed. Your outfit was a khaki knit romper. It was backless save for the lace-up string to hold it in place. It looked perfect against your tanned skin with gold hoop earrings and three layered gold necklaces. Keeping your hands behind your back, you realize you need help tying it.

Holding the top, you opened the door with one hand behind your back. “I do, actually,” you swallow hard, noticing his bulged eyes, “can you –uh– tie it, please?”

Hoseok couldn’t blink. His brain was malfunctioning, and his heart was tearing through his chest. He stumbled backward, then nodded his head yes. You turned slowly, and his eyes roamed every millimeter of your figure. The khaki color accentuated your tan, the perfect sun-kissed, silky skin. He tied the strings and noticed how the shorts ended just below your ass cheeks. He spun you around and looked at the front.

“Y–you can’t wear this,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Hm? Why not?” You turn toward the mirror, twisting, looking for something wrong.

“It’s basically see-through!” he scolds.

“I have pasties on…can you see them? Can you see my underwear?”

Hoseok feels like he’s going to have a cardiac episode. “No. Well, I mean–I– I don’t know. I’m not looking that hard.”

“Well, look! I need to make sure before we go out.”

He steps back again, and you feel naked under his gaze as you slowly turn, making sure everything is in place.

“One bend or squat and your ass will be out.”

“Who cares? Not like we’re going to see these people ever again.”

“Right. Okay, looks good. I’m just gonna pee before we go.” He walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Now you’re wondering if the outfit is too much. You walk into the bedroom, check yourself out, and decide you look hot and ready to party. Something else crosses your mind as you let your thoughts drift to the other night, how Hoseok raked his hands over your body. How you molded into him while your tongues did the tango. When one of his hands caressed your breast and the other sought to pleasure you? The excitement ends when you also recall, ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’.

You snap out of it when you hear the bathroom door open, “Ready for the drinks?” he calls out. You both down some shots, quickly sip the cocktails, and then start walking to the club.

You both arrive at the club tipsy and giggly. The booming bass takes over your bodies, and you float rhythmically to grab a drink and then hit the dance floor. Dancing together feels good. His sparkling smile penetrates your heart like the sun’s rays penetrate the Earth’s atmosphere. Drunk off the excitement, and you find yourselves getting closer and closer. You’ve slowed from the beat and look up into his eyes, glossed over from bliss. He leans down as if to say something but the song changes.

He can’t stop his body from reacting, and he’s off to a new dance, showing off his skills… Jay has arrived. He finishes his drink, nudging you to do the same, then sets the empty cups on a nearby table. His sultry steps stalk toward you and turn you around, pressing himself against your backside. You gasp at the sudden movement but flow perfectly with him. His hands rest on your hips, fingers applying pressure to your hip bones. He grinds into you slowly, and you feel the slightest bulge. You push your ass into him and hear a slight hiss escape his mouth. His one arm snakes around your shoulders while the other hand firmly rests on your belly, holding you in place. He grinds into you again and brings his lips to your ear, “You look irresistible in this outfit.”

Your breath hitches, and your back arches away from him, causing your ass to press against him again. He moans your name softly, “Be careful, or we may have to call it a night.”

Overwhelmed by impulsive thoughts and the cracks in the wall around your heart, you giggle and turn in his arms, “Maybe we should…get water? I’ll be right back.” You walk off the dance floor and head to the bar.

You ask for ice while the bartender makes cups of iced water. You grab a cube and drag it along your clavicle to cool off; the water glistens on your skin. Once the bartender places your drinks in front of you, you turn to find Hoseok in the crowd before you start walking.

When you finally spot the back of his yellow shorts, you smile and begin to turn toward the drinks when you see hands with hot-pink nail polish grasping Hoseok’s neck. You watch the hands play at his hairline and swear you hear his distinctive chuckle over the booming music.

The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you to run away. You look back at the drinks on the bar and reach for your water. When the cup gets to your lips, you realize you’re trembling. The neon lights become dizzying, so you follow your gut and leave.

Walking along the shoreline, shoes in hand, the sea laps at your feet, each impression erased. You stand still, facing the water, once a vibrant blue full of life, now slumbers in a dreamy black robe. The moon casts its light in a pathway, calling you to walk its passage to serenity.

You step away from the water, find dry sand to sit on, and plop down onto it. The sand retreats into your shorts, but you don’t care. Your eyes stay fixated on the moonlit path until self-made salt water trickles down your cheek.

You fell carelessly in love with someone that you’re not sure was even capable of doing the same. “Who was I kidding?” You speak softly to the moon, dig your feet further into the sand, and wrap your arms around your legs.

Back at the club, Hoseok feels dehydrated from all the dancing and leaves the dance floor to find you. After two laps around the place and asking women outside the bathroom if you’re inside, he starts walking out. He thinks back to when he last saw you, going for water, and then he got distracted dancing. Not just dancing– dancing with another woman. “I’m an idiot!” Hoseok nearly sprints out of the club on a mission to find you.

Clouds slowly roll across the sky, obstructing the moon and the moonlit path vanishing. The shots from earlier have worn off quicker than you’d hoped, and it’s getting chilly sitting by the water with little clothes on. You brush the sand off your butt and legs, grab your shoes in one hand, wrap your arms around yourself, then start walking toward the villa.

From a distance, Hoseok ardently calls your name. You turn toward his voice and watch as he races toward you. His body slams into yours, almost knocking you over, but his arms hold you tightly in place.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“The ocean was calling me. And you... You seemed a little preoccupied.” You step out of his hold. “Plus, seeing you dance like that with someone else– after saying– I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“Am I crazy, Hoseok? I know we both feel there’s more to this... more to us.”

“You’re not crazy. I feel it too. I–”

“You’re confusing, you know? You flirt with me all day but then do the same with other women. You’re all over me in bed and on the dance floor but then dance the same way with someone else. It hurts, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I’m an idiot, I know. But please, please let me fix this. I–” Hoseok stops talking and stares into your eyes, searching your soul for the words.

“You what? Want to have your cake and eat it too? I don’t want to be your toy.”

“I meant what I said the other night, granted it wasn’t the right timing, but I do want you–”

“Forget it, Hoseok! Let’s just pretend nothing happened and go back–”

“I don’t want that. I want you in more ways than just sex. If anything, this trip has brought us so much closer, and I can’t imagine not waking up next to you, and I don’t want it to end.”

Unsure of what to say or if you should believe him, he was the one who said it didn’t have to mean anything, and now he says this. Your eyes brim with tears as raindrops prickle your skin. Hoseok looks up at the clouds and scoffs at the inconvenience. The rain falls steadily, drenching the two of you and masking your tears.

Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along while running back to the villa.

Neither of you say a word on the way back, yet your minds are not silent. When you enter the door, you gently slide off of Hoseok’s back and straighten your romper down. He turns to face you and runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. He toes off his shoes, keeping his eyes on you, and then dashes for the bathroom coming back with a towel and robe.

“I wasn’t sure which one you may want.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

Hoseok watches you sluggishly dry your hair as much as you can, then puts his hands on yours and takes the towel. He dabs your face, slowly moving down your body, removing as much water as possible from your satiny skin. When he’s finished at your feet, he looks up at you, eyes warm and inviting like a cup of coffee. You swear you can see hearts dancing in the richness of his irises.

He drops the towel, removes his shirt, and stands before you. You can tell he’s nervous before his hand lands on your cheek, spreading his warmth into your skin.

He holds your hands and rests his forehead on yours, “I made stupid decisions, but I promise you, I am stupid for you. I’m scared I ruined everything when in reality, I wanna be with you. More than friends, more than a hookup. I want to be your partner.”

“Seok–”

“I never should have said, ‘it didn’t have to mean anything’, because it would always mean something to me. I regretted the words the minute they came out but didn’t want to dig myself deeper.”

You pull away slightly to better see his face, attempting to find whatever answer your heart seeks.

“Yes, I swear. I have wanted to confess my feelings to you for years–”

“Years!?” You swat at his chest and step back, but he doesn’t let you get far, pulling at your hips.

“I love our friendship and working with you. I was afraid my feelings would ruin what we had, but then it felt like you maybe had those feelings too. Instead of talking to you about it, I tried to hide it in other ways that ended up hurting you and almost lost you. I will never let that happen again.”

Hoseok leans in and presses his plump lips to yours, the air from his nose tickling your upper lip. You fuse your lips to his, and the kiss radiates your surroundings, the dark, damp room now ambient and forgiving. Your body molds to his as sweet tingles of butterflies escape the crumbling wall around your heart. Hoseok lifts you onto him with his lips still pressed to yours, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. He walks gingerly to the bed and lowers you down onto it. His mouth breaks away from yours and moves to your breasts, barely held in by the top of the romper. His tongue outlines the mounds as his hand feverishly runs along your thigh.

He murmurs your name, “Please be my partner…my lover?” He stills his hand and sprinkles kisses up to your neck.

You giggle at the tickle, “Yeah, I’ll be yours, Seok.” You can feel his smile broaden against your skin before he lifts his head and looks at you.

“One more thing…a favor.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Jay when we’re in this kinda mood.”

“Okay?” Your curious tone prompts him for more.

“It turns me on, and I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth,” he coos before swiping your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hoseok stands, eyes roaming your body, and pulls you up to do the same. His hand reaches behind you, untying the strap and letting the top of your romper loosely fall. The material sits on your hips before you push it down, letting it fall to your feet. Hoseok grins at the sight of your pasties, and you hide your face behind your hands.

He tugs gently at your hands and pulls you into him, swaying into a dance. He kisses your forehead and then twists you, placing your back against his chest. Your body melts into him as his hands explore, and teeth nip at your ear. Hoseok begins to bend you forward, pressing your body into the mattress. You put your hands out to soften the fall onto the bed, and they slide above your head. Hoseok admires the sight before he lowers himself onto you, pressing his semi-hard cock into the crack of your ass and sliding a hand down your arm until his hand intertwines with yours.

You lift your body, making him adjust so you can roll onto your back. Pulling his face into yours, you place soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw. He grinds against the thin cotton between your legs and squeezes your breast. You let out a slight noise that ignites his desire, and soon enough, his mouth is ravishing anywhere it can reach, stirring fire within you.

“Mmm, Jay.”

Hoseok stops abruptly at the words that escaped your lips. His forehead collapses against yours, “Say it again.” He peels the pasties off your nipples and pushes your breasts together, licking the crease between them. He sucks the skin into his mouth hard enough to leave his mark, then moves onto a nipple and nibbles lightly before swirling his tongue around it. He sucks it and releases it with a popping sound. You squirm under him as he does the same to the other breast.

“Fuck, Jay.” His body turns to jello– weakened by your whisper– falling limp on you.

“It sounds better than I could’ve ever imagined.” He slides a finger into your underwear and pulls it off you. Kisses linger on your skin from your breasts to your stomach. His warm breath is on your thigh, and your body shivers under the heat.

His mouth sweeps your folds, and he licks a long, unhurried stroke. Your legs shake, and your hands fly into his hair. His tongue flicks at your swelling nub as mewls escape your lips.

“Jay, please.”

He continues flickering his tongue and makes eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow. “Hmm?” The moan sends vibrations up your spine and a whine from your chest. You grab the sides of his head and steady him as you rock your hips against his face. He chuckles, sending your body into a frenzy. You moan his name repeatedly until you climax, dropping your hands, but he continues. You whine and wiggle out of his grasp when it becomes too much.

Hoseok lets you come down a little before repositioning on top of you. You can feel his thickness against your leg, you push his underwear down until he takes it off. He kneels between your legs, and you watch as he pumps his cock a few times, eyes trained on you. He leans down with his hands on either side of you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Blissed out, you can only mumble a resemblance of a response. Hoseok laughs and an iridescent aura overtakes your body, giving you more energy to continue.

“Can you handle a little more of Jay?” he quirks. You bite your bottom lip and nod your head. He eases into you; his cock drags along your walls, filling you deliciously. “Fuuu…so wet and tight.” He lulls, waiting patiently for you to adjust to him, and peppers soft kisses onto your mouth.

His hips pull back slowly and gently push back into you. His tongue pushes in the same movement against yours. He swallows all of the moans slipping from your throat. Lewd sounds are coming from each movement, and he groans, “Do you hear that? I’m gonna cum so fast.”

Hoseok holds himself up off of you and quickens his pace. Your tits bounce with each thrust, along with little sounds leaving you; he’s close.

You hiss and moan his name again as you hit another high. When he feels your walls throbbing against him, he lets go, not stopping until every drop is out of him. He rests on you, staying buried in your warmth.

Hoseok nibbles along your shoulder, then bestows tenderhearted kisses up your neck, landing on your mouth. You drink him in like a refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day.

He mutters your name against your neck, “That was even more amazing than I’d ever imagined...and trust me that's been a lot.” His smile against your skin radiates happiness into your bones, a feeling overwhelmingly pleasant.

“Mmhmm. I think India is my new favorite place. It's beautiful here, even the cold part, and the memories are enough for a lifetime," you pause for a moment, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair, "and I really like this too."

Hoseok suppresses a laugh, letting out a puff of air, “Me too, but it's only my favorite because I'm with you.” He kisses your shoulder and finds one of your hands to wrap his fingers around yours.

The two of you lay there, one hand interlocked and the other tracing each other’s bodies, gentle kisses on exposed skin, letting this new experience seep into your core memories. Like traveling to a new place for the first time and becoming deeply smitten with a new, beautiful place.

You look at Hoseok’s face, his eyes closed and soft features aglow, even in the dark. His smile is your favorite sight and his laugh is your favorite sound. He is easily your favorite adventure.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Namaste Collab Masterlist

Glossary:

Ladoos- traditional Indian dessert is made with different types of flour that are mixed with sugar and shortening, then shaped into balls.

Sweet boondi- fried gram flour balls soaked in flavored sugar syrup.

Kaju katli- a cookie-like Indian sweet made from a dough consisting largely of ground cashew nuts; the name translates as "cashew slice."

Shikara- a wooden, flat-bottom boat

Ghunghat- head covering or headscarf

Vindaloo- Indian curry dish, which is originally from Goa, based on the Portuguese dish

Fish thali- complete meal consisting of Rice, fish curry, fried fish, and veggies

Feni- a liquor indigenous to the state of Goa, India. The two most popular types are cashew and coconut.

#bwhq #moonleeai writes sometimes #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bangtanwhq #hoseok fanfic #sexy JAY #hoseok fanfiction #bts hoseok #namaste bangtan

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hamishsblog · 6 years ago

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Winterreise #133 - a journey along the Lea - lines on the reservoir #liminalspace #wanderings #resevior #riverlea #london #urbanlandscape #psychogeography #newtopographics #walking #winter #winterreise #rivers #walthamstowwetlands #edgelands #blues #blue #water #millenium_images #fasmedium https://www.instagram.com/p/BwHQ-I7Aket/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=a40m0hclp35q

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lo1k-diamonds · 8 months ago

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I remember reading this back when! Fun quirky story 😋

Reader's fears are more than justified, I'd be hella pissed too! Breaking promises in a drunk stupor? How dare our dad do that!! (Though Yoongi hints at having the same age as the reader, which in that society was a sentence, so maybe waiting to fall in love was not working?...)

Fortunately, Reader hit the MF jackpot - it's Yoongi and he's quaint and interested in actually cherishing his wife whom he only married out of necessity?

Ahhhh, we're really dreaming here and I'm just as delulu 🤪

Or maybe it was the lingerie... a corset goes a long way... Lady Eleanor def set the reader up for success 😏🔥

I just love period stories, and this one is filled with detail. Sprinkles of "Seoulshire", "Daehurst", and "Upton Busan" made me giggle; cute!

— a wager of lords & love | myg

♔ pairing: noble!yoongi x noble!reader

♔ au/genre: regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst

♔ rating: M

♔ wc: 6,813

⚔ warnings: reader’s mom is not alive, era-appropriate sexism, sex jokes, pet names, bedding ceremony, explicit smut: fingering, marking, light breast play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, you will fall so hard for yoongi.

♔ an: this story was written for Leah | @colormepurplex2 as part of the BangtanWHQ Valentine’s Event “Picture Perfect”. Thank you to my beta readers: @downbad4yoongi, @peachiilovesot7, and @moonleeai; this story was so much fun to write. Your feedback, as always, was valuable to making not only this story at it’s best but also making my day better when reading your comments. I love regency era au’s and this one only made me fall even more madly in love with Yoongi, and I hope you will too! Please enjoy!

“What in heaven’s name did I do last night?”

Continuar a ler

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bangtanwritershq · 3 months ago

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BangtanWritersHQ Presents: “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats” Masterlist

This year, for our fourth quarter fic exchange, we were ready to get a little spooky with sweet, fluffy tricks and wicked, smutty treats!

Some of our wonderful and talented members have come together to create a beautiful collection of stories exchanged as trick-or-treating goodies. Each participant was given a prompt from another participant and had to create a minimum of 1.5k word story using that prompt.

We hope you enjoy these as much as we did 🎃

*Not all stories are Halloween related*

KEY:

🔞 - nsfw (mature themes) ✅ - sfw (no warnings) 💖 - smut ⚠️ - other warnings

SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count

✅ Journey Back To You | @moonleeai [1/1] Pairing: Fashion Photographer!Jin x Fashion Model!Reader AU/Genre: Fluff, Childhood friends Rating: PG WC: 5,461

🔞💖⚠️ Beneath The Boughs | @colormepurplex2 [2/2] Pairing: Namjoon x f.Reader AU/Genre: Robin Hood Retelling, Soulmates, Ruined Arranged Marriage AU Rating: MA WC: 15,548

🔞💖⚠️ Eternal Reign | @hisunshiine [1/1] Pairing: Vampire King!Namjoon x Concubine!f.NamedReader AU/Genre: Arranged Marriage, Vampires, Joseon Era AU Rating: MA WC: 7,748

🔞💖⚠️ Of Crowns and Daggers | @mrsparkjimin18 [3/3] Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Princess!Reader AU/Genre: Arranged Marriage, Royalty/Historic "Three Kingdoms" AU Rating: MA WC: 12,502

🔞💖⚠️ Be as it must | @lo1k-diamonds [6/6] Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!(f)reader AU/Genre: A/B/O, fated lovers, smut Rating: MA WC: 28,914

✅⚠️ Take Two (Ao3) | @heathfritillary-blog [1/1] Pairing: Hoseok x f.Reader AU/Genre: Romance, Exes to Lovers, Halloween Haunted House Rating: PG WC: 3,416

🔞💖⚠️ Bound By Magic | @downbad4yoongi [3/3] Pairing: Wizard!Namjoon x Witch!f.Reader AU/Genre: E2L, Magical AU, smut Rating: MA WC: 11,698

🔞💖⚠️ Woven by Moonlight, Stitched by Sunshine | @joonslfttiddie [1/1] Pairing: Yoongi x OFC (Park Yujin) AU/Genre: Fantasy, Strangers to Lovers/Fated Lovers | very mild smut, angst Rating: MA WC: 7,574

All stories copywritten of the specified author. The authors provided consent for their stories to the network to be shared by submitting their stories. Stories posted in the order of submission to the event.

#BWHQ #BWHQ Writing Event #BWHQ Writing Events #BWHQ Network #bangtanwhq #bangtan writers hq #bangtan writers hq network #bts imagines #bts #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff

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moonleeai · 21 days ago

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Review for @bangtanwritershq Ficstoric Society

@mrsparkjimin18 --Your writing never lacks tension and intrigue that makes readers want to continue!

Nicolette is a powerhouse! I love how you wrote her as a woman who defies the traditional expectations with wit and intelligence. Her journey from reluctant dater to potential romantic heroine was mesmerizing! 🔥Yoongi emerging as the perfect counterpart - mysterious, rebellious, and unexpectedly tender, created a dynamic with electric chemistry. This one also showed there was an unexpected way love can emerge!

✨🌶️ ✨OH and the SPICY was SPIICYYY ✨🌶️ ✨

Spoilers!

The nightclub: A brilliant introduction of Yoongi that undermines all romantic expectations! 💜💜

The restaurant "confession": An ingenious plot manipulation that had me laughing out loud

#bwhq ficstoric society #fic: A Convenient Proposal #moonleeai review #yoongi x ofc #fake relationship #bts fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bangtanwhq

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christinamcdanielofficial · 6 years ago

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Happy Easter! Second photo was taken when I was unaware and just walking across the street. Normally, I'm all about ensuring consent is given prior to taking photos. But, I just love this one! Found it by chance after the convention and so glad I did. Photo 1: @jvholg Photo 2: 24Moves #easter #jessicarabbit #jessicarabbitcosplay #playboybunnycostume #playboybunny #whoframedrogerrabbit #whoframedrogerrabbitcosplay #whydontyoudoright #corset #orchardcorset #houstoncosplayer #houston_photographers #houstoncomicpalooza #comicpalooza (at Comicpalooza) https://www.instagram.com/christinamcdanielofficial/p/Bwhq-P0Dp56/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1tq325vajh255

#easter #jessicarabbit #jessicarabbitcosplay #playboybunnycostume #playboybunny #whoframedrogerrabbit #whoframedrogerrabbitcosplay #whydontyoudoright #corset #orchardcorset #houstoncosplayer #houston_photographers #houstoncomicpalooza #comicpalooza

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 month ago

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Ooooo, what do we have here? 👀

I went into this full-on expecting my heart to be absolutely shattered, but this is a super feel-good story. Yes, it sucks when we have unrequited feelings, and yes, Hoseok did spur her on, even if unintentionally!! At least, it is never said that he clarified with her that he is touchy, asked if she was okay with it, told her in advance that he's like that with everyone, checked on her multiple times over their friendship, etc. I feel like if they're best friends, he should have paid attention to these details and checked in on her, especially if all your friends keep expecting that you'll announce that you're together or have become involved at one point or another. This means that two people just let things happen, and naturally, feelings of wonder and attachment will develop. As it turns out, they did, and not just for one of them... 👀

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Ouch, so vivid and relatable, gosh. Hate it when this happens 👀

I didn't expect Yoongi to go for it, but I'm happy he did. I like how both characters take their time to get to know each other and cautiously and respectfully build something together. They deserve to be happy 💜

I also loved the ending. For someone so close to Yoongi and OC, Hoseok is not paying attention. Rather, he is blinded to how things are changing and why. I like the touch at the end, though I'm happy the couple figured themselves out before Hoseok got shaken. We can never know exactly how he feels, and he should let them be happy, whatever it is.

My question is, did Jimin and Taehyung know about Yoongi's feelings? 👀🤭

Reciprocity

Summary- Your unrequited crush on Hoseok seems to have played itself out as you overhear a conversation between him and Yoongi. But Yoongi has a secret of his own to tell you.

Word Count- 11372

Pairing- Yoongi x F!Reader (x Hoseok in a way?)

Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut/angst

Warnings- Unrequited love, a bit of a love triangle? Adult language, vulgarity, unprotected sex, lots of smutty things, minors DNI 18+++

Tags- @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- Well this started out as a Hoseok fic....but Yoongi kind of took over? This is my first attempt at a BTS fic so please be kind. Thank you to @kwanisms for the gorgeous header and to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading all of this process and encouraging me...this wouldn't have been written without you!!

“What do you mean?” You hear the familiar sound of Hoseok’s voice from the other room as you walk in.

Smiling, you open your mouth to announce yourself, but the next words have you clamping it shut.

“She’s just my friend, I don’t see her that way.”

Curious, you set the bag of food down on the coffee table in the living room, wondering who he’s talking about.

“Liar, I see how you two are together. You’ve been friends for ages, and I can tell-”

“I’m not lying. Seriously, man-maybe you’re projecting. She’s just my friend. As if I could ever see her as a woman.”

Hoseok’s laugh at that last line has your heart dropping two stories below the apartment, the tingle of hurt burning the back of your throat.

“Hobi-” You can hear the tightness of Yoongi’s voice as you try to calm the tsunami in your stomach.

“Why are you so intent on matchmaking us? It’s not like you, dude. Stop meddling, it’s weird.”

“As long as you say so, man. I just figured I’d check before-”

Their voices halt the moment you begin to make noises, unwilling to hear your two friends talk about you like that.

You already felt invasive enough having listened in on that little bit.

Fighting down the tears pricking the back of your eyes, you manage to call out to them.

“I’m back with food!”

You’re certain your voice is normal as you make your way into the kitchen, settling the bag down on the counter to pull out containers for everyone.

“Come eat while it’s warm…” you manage, ignoring the two men as they wander out from Hoseok’s bedroom.

“That was quick…” Yoongi mutters, and you don’t catch the glare he throws at Hoseok.

Shrugging, the latter man comes over to give you a big smile.

“Want to eat in here or the living room?” Hoseok asks, nudging your shoulder playfully as you finish unpacking the food.

Trying to school your features, you just shrug, glancing over at Yoongi.

He’s just looking between you, eyes narrowed before he sighs and finally shrugs back at you.

“Whatever works, I’m just hungry.” Yoongi grabs a carton of noodles to sniff it, glancing around at the little buffet you’d brought.

“Thanks for the food.” he says, shooting Hoseok another look as he hovers beside you, bumping into you as he picks through the array.

After you all eat your fill and clean up the kitchen, you find yourself on the couch beside Hoseok as he rambles on about his day.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but think about what he’d said earlier.

“As if I could ever see her as a woman.”

As long as you’ve been friends with the man, he’s always been playful and flirtatious with you.

While that was all fine with you, there were times that you could swear there was something more.

That he may have something beyond just your close friendship.

That he may feel the same way that you do for him.

The crush you’d had on him existed long before you’d called him your best friend.

Long nights talking about everything and anything, lingering on the phone even after one or the other passed out.

How he’d show up after he’d heard you had a bad day, bringing you your favorite coffee or treat.

How willing he’s always been to make you smile.

Yes, that’s what friends are for.

They care for you in your bad times, as well as the good.

You’ve told yourself this so often that you’d convinced yourself at this point.

You’d had to, the silly crush you had on him had slowly become true feelings.

Feelings you’d been struggling to suppress because your friendship had always meant more to you.

Yet, he was always cuddling with you, touching you, brushing back your hair….

The flirtatious nature of how you were together had of course been noticed by all of your friend group as well.

Yoongi asking Hoseok about it was nothing new either, so that’s not what bothered you.

Even as much as you’d told yourself that you were only friends, hearing him say that he couldn’t even see you as a woman had your heart dying in your chest.

It shouldn’t hurt, you’ve told yourself that very thing night after night after he’d done something to get your pulse racing, your emotions stirring in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you jump as you feel Hoseok’s breath on your ear.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks and you turn to look at him, swallowing heavily.

There it was-that cheerful smile.

The one that always had you wondering how you would ever survive being around him.

“Nothing.” You mumble, turning to glance at Yoongi, pulling back to put some distance between you.

“How’s your work going?” you ask, pretending not to notice how Yoongi shoots yet another look at Hoseok.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the door and you eagerly jump up to get it.

You’re not sure if you can handle Hoseok’s touchiness tonight.

Not while you were still reeling from his painful words.

“Hey, are you ignoring me? You’d better be free that night, what would I do without my bestie beside me?”

You just sigh at the text, chewing your lip as you ponder how to deal with him.

Your writing had been taking a toll ever since your mood had plummeted.

After that evening, you’d recovered some from the hurt.

You’d known that you two were only friends, but apparently there was a part of you that had clung onto a small bit of hope that he’d secretly felt something more for you.

At least you had your answer to that now, you keep telling yourself.

Don’t act weird, you think, shaking your head at how ridiculous and emotional you were over something you knew already.

Flirtations or not, he’d never attempted to do anything beyond just that.

Don’t be a greedy bitch, and don’t whine about stupid shit, you think to yourself.

“Fine, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.” You send him, smirking.

“DEAL!” he sends back with his typical emojis, making you laugh despite the ache.

Checking the rest of your messages, you manage to see a missed text from Yoongi.

“Huh, weird…” you mutter, opening it.

“Hey, so…are you free sometime this week for coffee or lunch?”

You frown at the text, tilting your head in wonder.

Curious, as Yoongi wasn’t one to reach out suddenly for no reason, you just message back:

“Sure, I can meet whenever you’re free. Is everything okay?”

It’s a bit before you get a response, which was typical for the man, as he was always doing something in his studio.

“Yeah…just wanted to talk to you about something personal.”

His response has your curiosity peaking, and you immediately respond back to him.

“Well, let me know when you have the time and I’ll come meet you wherever!”

Interesting, you think.

Yoongi and you had been friends for as long as you and Hoseok, but you’d never developed the same kind of closeness.

Mostly because of how different they are, of course.

Yoongi is reserved, a bit more quiet and serious.

He rarely spends a lot of alone time with you, so something must be up if he’s asking for a one on one.

Hoseok is cheerful and upbeat, talkative and he never shies away from physical touch with you.

Frowning, you realize that’s part of what got you into this mess in the first place.

It’s not his fault that I have inappropriate feelings for him, you chastise yourself.

You take a moment longer to read the next text from Yoongi, responding that he will text you when he has time.

Setting down your phone, you turn to your laptop to see if you can break through the writer’s block today.

You make your way inside the quiet little coffee shop, glancing around to see if Yoongi was inside yet.

None of the tables were taken, and there was a lone barista behind the bar, cleaning.

I must be early, you think, checking the time.

Figuring you’ll get drinks while you wait for him, you make your way to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get started for you?” The man asks, and you place your order, deciding to get something for Yoongi as well.

By the time the young man is setting your two drinks on the counter, you hear the chime over the door ring.

“Hey, sorry, I got held up at the last minute. Freaking Taehyung and Jungkook and their normal antics.” He grimaces.

You can’t help but grin, knowing all too well how hard it was to escape the little menaces.

“No problem, here I got you a drink already.” You hold it out to him, his eyes lighting up as he takes it.

“Thank you…my intention was to buy your drink, but you beat me to it.” He smiles, gesturing to the open tables.

Choosing a two seater by the window, you slip into the chair as he does the same across from you.

“So, how is work going? Super busy?” You start as he sets his coffee on the table.

He sighs, running a hand over his face as he glances out the window, nodding.

“Always, and those two little-” he begins, then shakes his head.

“Anyhow, it’s nice to get away. How is your writing going?” He inquires, leaning forward as he turns to face you fully.

Letting out your own sigh, you look down to toy with the lid of your cup.

“Eh…I’ve had better weeks of writing. Lately….” you let the words drift off, just giving a small shrug to fill the void.

You notice his frown as he studies you, concern in his eyes as he tilts his head.

“Lately? Did something happen? What’s going on?” He asks, his sudden worry apparent.

Waving him off, you take another sip of your drink.

“Oh…just…things. Life.” You try to smile, “Just stupid thoughts and trying to work through something. But it’s nothing important.”

You try to look reassuring but the concern stays on his face.

“What about you? You said you had something personal to talk about?” Changing the subject was the best bet, you think.

“Mmmm….” he hums, his voice deep and low as he seems to ponder how to start.

“I…well…” he chews his lip, glancing down, then back up at you.

“We’ve been friends for a while, right?” He asks, taking you off guard.

You merely nod, thinking for a moment before you respond, “Eight years, yeah.”

He nods once at your answer, studying you before glancing away again.

“You haven’t…dated anyone since we’ve all been friends.” He says and you furrow your brow at him.

“I mean…no…I actually haven’t.” You mumble, frowning, worried about where this is going.

“How come?” he asks bluntly.

You can only blink at him with a blank expression.

“Not to be rude but…I thought you wanted to talk about something personal?” You deflect, wondering why he’s suddenly so curious about your dating life.

His cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his cup as he idly spins it on the table.

Clearing his throat, he manages to say, “Well…yes, this is personal…”

Glancing around the little shop, you try to think of how to word it.

It’s not like you can blurt out, “Because I’m in love with Hobi.” Because…just no.

“It’s…complicated, I suppose.” you finally respond, tapping your foot against the table leg.

His eyes meet yours, flicking back and forth as they seem to want to see beyond your evasive answer.

“I have you guys, why do I need to date? I guess the right person just hasn’t presented themselves.”

He hums, leaning back to watch you as you speak.

“You mean you have Hoseok?” He asks simply, causing you to choke on the sip you were taking.

Reaching for a napkin to clean up the coffee that shot out of your nose, you dab at your face as he watches you with a serious look.

“I don’t-” you start but he puts up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t notice how you two are together, everyone has asked at some point if you two are a couple.” He says softly, his words obviously not intending to hurt but damn, do they.

You just take a moment to tamp down on the surge of pain at the reality of things versus what everyone “thinks”.

“Yeah well…he has a way of making people think that, doesn’t he?” The bitterness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, who leans forward once more.

“Is this why you asked me to come out, Yoongi? To talk about my personal life?” You say a bit more harshly than you intended, wiping up the little droplets of coffee off the table to distract yourself.

“Hey-not…like that. I’m not trying to…” he waves his hands around, flustered at your reaction.

“Look, I heard you two talking the other night, alright? I’m very well aware of how he sees me, so it matters little what I think about anything, doesn’t it?” You tell him, finally looking up at him.

His frown tugs down even more now as he reaches out to place his hand over yours.

Sighing, he shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that…I’m sorry-”

Cutting him off, you blurt out, “He doesn’t even see me as a woman, so-”

“Well he’s fucking stupid then.” Yoongi counters, almost growling the words as he spits them out.

You can’t even think of what to say, shocked at the tone of his voice, the anger in his dark eyes as he squeezes your hand in his.

“I swear, I wanted to slap the smile off his face the other day when he said that to me,” he continues.

“How could anyone not see you as a woman? It’s fucking rude to say something so disrespectful, even if he thought you couldn’t hear him. I don’t care if we’re friends or more.”

You swallow the pain at the memory, but the fact that Yoongi is getting so defensive for your sake has a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach.

You manage to blink away the tears threatening to slip from your eye as you listen to his tirade.

“He can think whatever he wants…” You mutter, glancing out the window to watch the people walk by, life going on outside of this painful conversation.

“Well, he doesn’t need to be so blunt about shit like that. He’s the one always clinging to you like you belong to him-” Yoongi almost snarls out, but he stops, sighing as he blinks down at his drink.

“Well, for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.” You tell him, intrigued and curious about his reaction to everything.

You swear he almost sounds-

“I sound jealous, don’t I?” He says, a humorless laugh accompanying the words.

“You sound like you just didn’t like what he said, I wouldn’t think you were jealous, Yoongi.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

He pauses as he looks down at your hand beneath his own, rubbing his fingers along yours.

“What if I were to say I was jealous?” He asks, continuing to look down before he raises his gaze to meet yours.

It seems as if time stops in the tiny cafe as his words echo through your head.

Jealous?

Yoongi?

“Yoongi, I’m not in the mood for jokes today.” You sigh out.

He purses his lips, his jaw working as he holds your gaze.

“I like you.”

Your heart stutters, his sudden confession taking you completely by surprise.

There wasn’t a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

Not an ounce of teasing in his tone.

He slips his hand off yours, leaning back as if he expects an outburst, but he never takes his eyes from yours.

Your mind is reeling at the idea that he’s being deadly serious.

Min Yoongi just confessed to you.

Yoongi…the serious, stoic friend you’d had for years.

When you don’t immediately respond, he just wipes a hand over his face.

“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive when I asked him about how he felt about you the other day.” He admits, finally breaking eye contact to look out the window, tching with his tongue as he considers his next words.

“Honestly, for years, everyone has had the idea that the two of you had some secret relationship going on. That you just were being completely quiet about it, though to us it seemed very obvious.”

You glance down at the hand he was just holding, feeling as if you’re floating in some weird alternate universe.

Hearing how you and Hoseok had been viewed, mixed with the fact that Yoongi has had feelings for you….

You try your best not to zone out, hanging on his words as he continues.

“Of course, if that was the case, I’d be happy for the two of you. You’re my friend, first and foremost. Despite how I feel about you.”

The low timbre of his voice lulls the pain of what he’s talking about a bit.

You’d always loved his voice, especially when it dropped low and deep like this.

Eyeing him as he watches the people walk by, you tilt your head to look at him in this new light as he talks.

It wasn’t a secret that you found all of your friends extremely attractive, every single one.

Sometimes it felt almost unreasonable how handsome they all were, and you’d told them as much on many occasions.

You certainly weren’t afraid to voice that opinion, it was just a fact at this point.

It had just been so easy to look beyond the physical with all of them and Hoseok had definitely always been right up close, demanding all of your attention.

Never once past getting close with all the guys did you consider that any could have feelings for you, with the exception of Hobi of course.

“You…like me?” You finally respond, your entire worldview turning on it’s head.

He winces at your words, turning back to meet your gaze.

Pursing his lips, he merely nods.

“I’m sorry if it’s abrupt, and if it upsets you at all.” he says softly, reaching out to grab his cup to drink from.

“So the conversation you had with Hoseok….” you let the question linger as he sets his cup back down.

He clucks his tongue, nodding gently as he finishes the thought.

“I figured if there was something between you two, if there was no hope…” he shrugs, chewing his lip as he looks down.

His words feel so very close to how you’ve been feeling lately about Hoseok, hitting you harder than you expect.

“Then you’d know…then you could let go.” You say without thinking, blinking at having uttered the words out loud.

His dark gaze meets yours, understanding passing between the two of you as he nods.

“I was shocked, honestly. When he said nothing had ever happened between you. But when he said-” he stops, his jaw clenching.

You only manage an anemic smile as he continues, shrugging off the almost familiar pain.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he tells you, “Confessing…admitting to you how I feel.”

You can’t help but feel a smile creep across your face as his cheeks tinge with a blush, unable to feel anything but excitement at his bravery.

“Yoongi-” You start, but he stops you before you can say more.

“Look…I asked him because I wanted to know how he felt about you. If there was something there that I shouldn’t touch. On his side.”

You just nod, understanding his logic with that.

“I want you to know that…telling you this, I don’t expect anything to come of it. I know we’ve been friends a very long time and…I doubt you’ve ever seen me in that way.”

Before you can respond, he only gives you a look and you let him continue speaking before saying anything.

He fiddles with his now empty cup, seeming to be turning over how he’s going to proceed.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. I thought eventually that they’d fade away and I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” he shrugs a shoulder as he says this.

His words still stun you, even though he’s already admitted to liking you.

“Now I know how he feels about you, but I also want to ask you the same thing. If it’s not too intrusive, of course.” he says, watching you closely.

You swallow the immediate urge to deflect and deny your true emotions for Hobi.

But Yoongi was being completely honest with you, not to mention the courage it was taking to confess like this.

It felt dishonorable to lie at this point.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you can only let out a shaky sigh as you build up the courage to admit your true feelings out loud.

“I …. I have had emotions for Hoseok for a long time.” You finally say, watching him as closely as he’s watching you now.

He blanches a bit, but he seems unsurprised as he nods.

“I had the feeling that was the case.” he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he glances out the window, his tongue in his cheek.

“It’s not like I expected anything, but…” you can only spread your hands out, as if to say, it is what it is.

“So his words the other day must have hurt.” He says, as a statement rather than a question.

Feeling the slight ache at the memory, you can only nod as you shrug a shoulder.

“It did, but it’s not as if I expected anything else. He’s never expressed any interest in me.”

Yoongi’s head snaps around to look at you, his eyes narrowing even more.

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s obvious that he’s encouraged your feelings. Even if it’s been unintentional. I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off, now that I know how you feel.”

His words seem to snap something inside of you, and suddenly he’s sitting forward as he reaches out to you, his eyes widening.

“Hey…shit I’m so fucking sorry-”

It takes you a moment to realize that tears are streaming down your face, and you’ve been holding your breath.

He is out of his chair in a heartbeat, suddenly kneeling beside you, using a napkin to gently dab at your cheeks.

You let out a shaky breath, intending to tell him it’s alright, that you’re fine but the moment you open your mouth, only a sob escapes.

“Damn it, I came here to admit my own feelings and here I am, hurting you.” His voice is laced with anger, directed at himself.

Shaking your head, you just cover your mouth, trying to not draw the concern of the poor barista as you try to compose yourself.

“No-” you choke out, looking down at the deep, concerned eyes of Yoongi.

“Can I…?” He gestures awkwardly with his arms, and you immediately nod, slipping into his hug.

“Shhh, hey, it’s alright. I’m so sorry I’m digging up painful things for you, I never intended to upset you.”

You cling to him, gripping the back of his leather jacket as you try your best to collect yourself.

He rubs a hand down your spine as he continues to soothe you with small, simple words, giving you time to calm down.

“You-didn’t.” you finally manage, pulling back as you wipe at your face.

You take in his pain filled eyes, and it’s an odd feeling to be filled with wonder at his sympathy and care all while wanting to bawl your eyes out over Hoseok at the same time.

“I-I’m just confused, and frustrated. At myself, mostly.” You say, trying to laugh.

“At yourself?” He asks, still kneeling before you, holding you at arms length as he reaches out to wipe away an errant tear.

You just nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah, I know he and I are only friends, so it’s stupid to think of anything else between us.”

His eyes darken as he grimaces at your words, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, don’t do that. Your emotions are valid, even if you don’t want to have them. It’s not something we have much control over, believe me.” He smiles but you can tell he’s empathizing more than he’s letting on.

This man had just confessed to you and here he was, comforting you over another man.

Your head spins from the day's events, feeling overwhelmed from it all.

“Yoongi…” you start and he hums in askance.

Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to cup his cheek, almost laughing at the shocked and panicked look that washes over his face.

“Things have been…confusing.” you tell him, and he can only nod, but he leans into your hand as you continue.

“I’ve known for a long time that Hoseok doesn’t have feelings for me. That…it’s in my head.” You admit, albeit sadly.

His lips thin into a line, but you continue before he can say anything.

“I’m still processing this…” you gesture with your free hand. “It’s the last thing I expected…especially from you.”

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head at your admission.

“Especially from me?” He asks softly.

You just smirk and nod, “Yes, especially from you. You’ve never given me the impression that you’ve…been interested.”

He just grins, and you still with shock over just how ridiculously sheepish and handsome he looks kneeling before you.

Maybe...there was something here.

Something you never considered because you’ve been blinded by Hoseok standing in the way.

Before you can jump on that train of thought, you manage to focus on what you were trying to say.

“Would you be willing to give me some time?” You ask him quietly.

His eyes widen and you can see him trying to fight back a smile at your words.

“You…you’re not outright rejecting me?” He asks in surprise.

Smiling at his shock, you merely shake your head.

“No, I’m not. But...knowing I have feelings for someone else has to have you lose some interest.” You tell him, not even posing it as a question.

You know it’s not something most people would tolerate.

“Hey…I’ve had a feeling that you two had a thing at some point. It didn’t make me any less interested in you. And…I’ll be honest…” His eyes graze over you slowly, causing your face to flush at the deepening of his voice.

But it’s nothing compared to how his next words turn your world upside down.

“I’ve always seen you as a woman. And not just any woman…an intelligent, strong and beautiful woman.”

His fingers brush your cheek, collecting the tear that leaks down your face as he gives you his signature lopsided smile.

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Time seems to fly by, yet it feels as if you’re trudging along in a slow fog all at once.

Since your coffee meeting with Yoongi, your emotions have been all over the place.

The one good thing about being in this state is that your writing block is nonexistent.

After getting home from your talk, you’d naturally gone to your laptop and opened it, your thoughts racing like mad.

On a whim, you just started writing.

Pouring your heart out into the void of white on your screen, tears blurring your eyes as you let your imagination work through some of the confusion and stress that had been building.

Knowing this would never see the light of day, you just ran with it; allowing your frustrations out on your fictional characters as day bled into night, then into day again.

Picking up your mug, you pause as you realize that it’s empty.

Glancing around, you blink at the morning sun peeking through the blinds, suddenly feeling a yawn claw its way out as you stretch and crack your neck.

6:44am, the clock seems to judge you with its ticking second hand.

Well…you’ve definitely gotten quite a lot of work done, even if it’s never going to become anything.

Standing to stretch out your back, you glance around at your empty apartment.

The tension headache you’d developed over the last week still lingered, but you felt a bit lighter now that you’ve worked through the swirl of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.

Padding into the kitchen, you turn on your electric kettle and lean against the counter to wait, thinking back on the way you’d left things with Yoongi.

His words still didn’t seem real, and you can’t help but think about him on his knees before you.

His long dark hair hanging in his eyes, one side tucked behind his ear.

Eyes narrowed, biting his lip as he professed his concern for you.

It would be a bold faced lie to say you’d never looked at him as a woman does a man.

You and your girlfriends had often had some seriously depraved conversations about the men in your friends group, but you felt that was only natural.

You hung out with a group of handsome men, who wouldn’t give them the once over and imagine?

When you’d all first started hanging out, it was impossible to not find them all attractive.

Have you ever even considered Yoongi?

For certain you’d appreciated his looks, his deep voice, his laid back demeanor.

But from the beginning, it was always Hoseok’s sunny smile taking up your entire vision.

Gorgeous, cheerful, energetic-you had both been drawn to each other in a way you couldn’t explain.

It was easy to get sucked into his energy, to let yourself get swept away.

Before long, you and Hoseok were best friends, sharing everything with one another.

All of your friends were convinced that one day you’d just announce that you were together.

Yet here you were, eight years later, hearing that he didn’t even see you as a woman.

That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.

Then Yoongi out of the blue drops that bomb on you.

As much as you know you have to work through these emotions for Hoseok, you can’t help but think about how there’s really nothing to get over.

You never had anything together.

Sure, he flirted and teased.

Yeah, he almost always had to touch you, be next to you.

But…there was nothing more.

Not one kiss.

Not even an “almost anything”.

In the end, it seems like it was just his way of being your best friend and you resent that you feel like he’s hurt you in some way.

He hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t even anything to be angry at.

Sighing, you pour some hot water over a teabag, forcing your thoughts away from Hoseok for the moment.

Your last conversation with Yoongi replays in your mind as you steep your tea, a small warmth blooming in your stomach at the memory.

Not much had been said that hadn’t been talked about over coffee; he’d walked you home as you both awkwardly discussed going forward.

“I hope you don’t feel any pressure to give me an answer-” He’d said as you approached your building.

His hands were in his pockets, dark strands dangling as he kicked at the pavement outside of your building.

It was a rare sight to see Min Yoongi being shy and nervous, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him.

Stepping forward, you’d drawn his gaze, his eyebrows raising as you cut him off.

“Yoongi, do you want to come over sometime this week and watch a movie?”

Your words had shut him up for a solid thirty seconds as he blinked at your invitation.

“Eh?” He finally managed, then he was tilting his head in confusion. “I thought you needed time?”

“Time to think about things, yes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. Unless you’d rather not-”

“No-I mean, yes, sure, I’d love to come watch a movie.”

Even now, you can’t help but smile at the delight in his dark eyes before he looked away, even as he clucked his tongue and cleared his throat.

Shuffling back to your cozy chair, you check your phone and notice a bunch of missed texts.

Of course, you think, opening the familiar name on the screen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hey, are you sleeping?”

“I bet you’re writing and you have no idea what time it is! GO TO SLEEP!”

Shaking your head and smiling, you just ignore Hoseok’s texts for now, scrolling through the others just checking in and saying hello.

Reluctantly, you make your way to your room, slightly annoyed that Hoseok knew you well enough to call it.

“Jerk.” You mutter, curling up with your blankets and drifting off.

“I swear, you guys just want something to gossip about.” Hoseok scolded the nosy men in the room.

“Don’t lump me in with them.” Namjoon says, turning his back to ignore the chatty trio.

“Really, though, what would happen if she got a boyfriend?” Jimin was asking, glancing at Taehyung as if to ask him for backup.

Hoseok just leans back, sighing as he rests his hands behind him.

“Then I would congratulate her and wish her well.” He shoots back without hesitation, shaking his head.

He ignores the looks the two share, nodding at Yoongi as he makes his way into the practice room.

“Really? Just like that?” Taehyung asks, disbelief in his voice.

“Just like that.” Hoseok responds, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re all overly concerned with my personal life right now.”

Yoongi stays silent, merely observing as they continue their conversation.

“So, if-” Taehyung begins but Hoseok groans in annoyance, giving him a dark look that stops his question.

“If you’re not going to focus on practice-” He growls, causing the two to scramble and make excuses about things they need to do.

“What is it with these questions lately?” Hoseok mumbles, shaking his head as he stands to resume his choreography.

Yoongi just grunts in response as he turns to focus on his own work.

Answering the door, you smile as you’re greeted with Yoongi’s familiar smiling face.

Opening the door wider to allow him in, you can’t help but admire how handsome and soft he looks.

He’s wearing a loose grey sweater and jeans, and his long dark hair is pulled up into a half ponytail.

Honestly, he looks...really sexy.

“I brought snacks.” He says, holding up the bag as he walks in and takes off his shoes.

“Great!” You respond, taking the bag to the kitchen to put into little bowls so you can enjoy them during your show.

It’s been almost a month now that he’s been coming over for a movie night, making this number five.

They weren’t dates, necessarily.

Nothing had happened.

You’ve talked, laughed, watched movies, dramas, music videos.

Chatted about work, food, life in general.

Everything but touched on the topic that started all of this.

The respect he has had for you has been amazing, not once asking about your feelings towards anything, never inquiring about Hoseok or being intrusive in any way.

And he almost always sat with something between the two of you on the large couch, you think, watching him make his way to his normal spot.

Much had changed in a month, yet it also felt as if you were in this kind of limbo with Yoongi.

Of course, you were well aware that you were the one who asked for time.

Hoseok had started to notice the little things as well.

Once upon a time, you’d have been on the phone with him at least a few times a week, ranting about your most recent writing project, or listening to him talk about dance practice and everything in between.

Those calls had slowly dwindled as you found yourself focusing more on yourself, on your work, on learning how to exist without him being your primary focus.

On the other hand, you had been exchanging alot more conversation with Yoongi over this time.

You’d been friends with him just as long as you have been with Hoseok and the others, yet you were learning things about him you never knew.

As you set the dishes down on the coffee table, you glance at where the pillow sits beside Yoongi, creating a makeshift barrier between the two of you.

It wasn’t a sudden thought to remove it and toss it, to slide in beside him and see what it felt like for Yoongi to be the one to pull you into his side, to lay his head on yours as you curled into him.

No, it wasn’t sudden at all, it has been building up over these little drama dates you’ve been having with him.

Settling on the couch beside the pillow, you chew your lip, considering how to even go about wanting to close the distance with him.

Perhaps it was still too early, you think, returning his smile as he looks over at you, nodding along to his suggestions for your selection of the night.

You both settle on a drama that has been airing, finding yourself involved and before long, two hours have passed.

“Did you want to sleep or-?” He asks, turning to you as he holds the remote in his hand.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch another.” You say softly, admiring him as he gives you a cute little smile as he turns to queue up the next episode.

“Alright, bathroom break, I’ll be right back.” He says, wandering off down your hallway.

“Need anything while I’m up?” you ask, going to get two more water bottles.

“I’m good!” He calls as you go to sit back down.

You hesitate a moment before you grasp the irritating pillow and toss it over to the chair beside you.

“There.” you mumble, proud of yourself before you’re filled with a sudden anxiousness as he comes to join you again.

“Oh…” he says, eyeing the now empty space between you, glancing at you in askance as he sits down.

“It was in the way.” You say, cheeks heating as he nods slowly, and you catch the cute little eye twitch as he settles into the couch.

“Ready?” He asks, side eyeing you as you adjust so you’re a bit closer to him.

“Yep.” You nod, trying to act nonchalant.

It’s slow, but as you make your way through the next hour-long episode, you find yourself bumping his knee with yours when you exclaim about what is going on.

Leaning in as you laugh, turning to see if his reaction matches your own.

Little by little the distance closes before your shoulder is brushing his, his deep throaty laughter evoking little tummy trembles.

And before you know it, you’re more focused on his facial expressions, his little grunts of surprise, the way his lips turn down as he finds something displeasing on the screen.

Swallowing heavily, you reach out to brush an errant strand of hair back, causing him to freeze in place.

“Oh…sorry…you just…I-”

“It’s fine.” He says, his eyes no longer taking in the show as his gaze sweeps over you.

Your breath hitches a bit as you watch his adam’s apple bob, swallowing as he licks his lips and clears his throat.

Brushing the strand back, you catch his dark gaze as it lingers on your lips, causing your stomach to flip.

He winces as he meets your eyes, clucking his tongue in that adorable way he does.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He asks, his voice a bit deeper and softer than normal and you can only nod as your fingers linger on the soft strands of his hair.

Somehow you’ve moved directly beside him, and you find yourself wondering what the exact distance is between his mouth and yours.

He clears his throat once more as he watches your gaze drop to his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.

“I am.” You respond softly, your eyes just taking in the entirety of his face this close, unable to resist rubbing the silken strands between your fingertips.

“Are you?” You ask after a long pause, the voices on the television fading into the background as you hear your heart thump in your chest.

How long had it been since you’d kissed someone? you wonder.

Since someone touched you in ways that were anything but friendly?

Feeling almost starved, you blush as you watch your hand tremble as you tuck his hair, your fingertips skimming the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, his hand is around your wrist, gently halting your motion as he studies your eyes.

“I don’t mean to sound…rude but…” He halts as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his lashes fluttering as he appears to calm himself.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing right now?” He asks huskily, the timbre of his voice seeming to tickle something so deep within you that the very awareness of it is enough to cause you to squirm.

You hesitate to answer him, but not because you’re unsure of your response.

No, you need him to know that you’re very much aware.

Holding his gaze, your teeth capture your bottom lip as you nod slowly, intentionally.

“Good.” He grates out.

Within the next breath, the distance is bridged and his lips are capturing yours, the fingers around your wrist loosening as they trail down your forearm.

You don’t even have time to feel ashamed of the needy moan that gets lost in the depths of his mouth, because he’s too busy slipping his fingers up into your hair, kneading your scalp as his lips quiver against yours.

The show is forgotten as you both cling to one another, his free arm slipping around you to tug you closer.

Your fingers finally delve into the long, satin strands of hair that have been tempting you for weeks.

It’s a shock and yet not surprising at all when your hand slips over his back, across his shoulders and you feel the taut muscles bunching as he slowly pulls you ever closer to him.

You’re not even sure which noises are his and which are yours as you allow, no, you encourage him to tug you halfway onto his lap.

Before you know it, you’re looking down at him, your fingers skimming his cheek as your lips part and meet, again and again with hot breathy sighs and groans.

“Yoongi-” You breathe out, and you can’t help but flush with shame at the desperation in your wavering voice.

He freezes suddenly at the sound of his name, unsure as he pulls back to check on you.

The whine that escapes you as he withdraws causes his eyes to widen with concern, misunderstanding the meaning behind the embarrassing noise.

“Too much-?”

Unable to stop yourself, you straddle him properly, one thigh on either side of his, crushing your mouth to his as you cut off his sentence.

“No-” you manage as his hands immediately grasp your hips, a soft groan escaping him as you cup his face.

It’s as if every touch of his is burning a trail along your body as his palms skim up your sides, sliding around your back, then down to cup your ass.

Your head is swimming with the sensation overload as you roll your hips against him, finally realizing how very hard he is.

Heat pools in your abdomen as his fingers knead your plush ass, his tongue dancing delicately over yours between his breathy groans.

Your hand slips between you, a sudden need causing you to tug at the button of his jeans.

Belatedly, you register how his body freezes, his hands gripping you to still you as he slows the kiss.

Drawing back, you swallow harshly, doing your best to not cry out at the loss of his lips on yours.

His dark, anxious eyes study you as he brings a hand up to trace your cheek, and it takes you a moment to realize that those gorgeous lips are moving, that he’s speaking to you.

“Hey…woah…let’s slow down for a moment…”

His voice sounds almost pained, gravelly and hoarse as he clears his throat.

“Yoongi?” You ask softly, concerned that you may have pushed him a bit too far, that maybe he doesn't want this.

He clears his throat again, eyes darting down to your lips before he looks away.

Yet he keeps you seated right there in his lap as he finally manages to get his words out.

“Let’s talk before…” His thumb caresses your cheek gently and you can feel his body shudder under yours as you blink at him.

Nodding, you take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation and need within you in order to clear your mind.

“As much as I want you…want this…we should have a conversation.” He continues, finally meeting your eyes once more, “I don’t want to rush into anything either of us will regret.”

You process his words slowly, chest heaving as you do your best to calm yourself.

The emotions that had gradually been building for him over this past month seem to evolve at his care for you, making your next words hold even more weight.

You slip your fingers into his hair, brushing it back as you admire the man you’d come to see as much more than a friend.

“Yoongi…I like you, too.” You manage, your voice hoarse with the need you’ve pushed back for the moment.

His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips parting with the tiniest little gasp as you smile softly at him.

“I want you…I want this. I want…more.”

His eyelashes flutter at your words, eyes closing slowly as if he’s savoring the meaning behind them, the gravity of them.

“Are you sure? I don’t want something casual. We both deserve more than that.” He says before opening those deep chocolate eyes to observe you, gauging your reaction closely.

Without hesitation, you nod, running your thumb over his beautiful lashes.

“I wouldn’t do that to you or myself, Yoongi. I don’t want a pillow between us anymore.” You whisper, leaning down to brush your lips over his. “I wouldn’t have removed it if I wasn’t ready for this. For us.”

Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, curling your lips gently as his arm slips around your waist to hold you close.

“What about…Hoseok?” He whispers hesitantly, apprehension written all over his face.

You knew this would come up, and it’s all that’s been on your mind over the weeks since he’d confessed.

Emotions are so complicated and slippery, especially when nothing is clear, when all you have is doubts and nothing is ever communicated.

He watches patiently as you try to think of how to communicate the choice you’ve made properly to him, so he won’t think this is a rash decision on your part.

“I’ve had years to process those emotions, and nothing has ever come of it. Perhaps it’s because I never communicated them properly, or maybe I just didn’t have the courage to face the rejection.”

You smile fondly at him as he listens intently, your heart stuttering at the complete open trust and acceptance in his eyes.

“Honestly, I’ve been blinded by my own wants and needs for so long with him, yet I never took the time to find out how he felt. He’s my friend, and that will never change. As much as it hurt to hear how he truly felt about me, I needed that. I can’t be even remotely mad or upset with him, as it’s me who was hurting myself all this time.”

“What I feel, or felt for Hoseok has nothing to do with you and I. It’s a fleeting possibility that I spent far too long being preoccupied with. I didn’t need the time I asked for just to solidify how I felt about you, Yoongi.”

As you speak, you can feel the confidence and determination in your words as he holds you close, giving you the courage to continue.

“I wanted to make sure that when and if I was able to take this step with you, I would be giving you all of me. Not just fragments warring with an unrequited crush for someone else. I’m laying that part of me to rest, even if you decide that you want to stop right here. That you want to just stay friends-”

The limbo you’ve both been suspended in seems to pop like a bubble as he suddenly flips you on your back, drawing out a small surprised cry from you.

“That’s all I need to hear.” He growls, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

The force behind it has your teeth digging into his lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth desperately as you meet his need with your own.

Clinging to the soft fabric of his sweater, your legs slip around his thighs as he presses you into the couch with his hips.

His erection is even more prominent in this position as he presses wet kisses along your jaw, his hands slipping down to slip under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

Soft cries leave your parted lips as he rolls his hips, your already damp panties starting to soak through as he grinds against you.

“I don’t want to be just friends.” The heat of his breath brushing over your neck causes you to shiver, your fingers grasping frantically at his sweater until your fingertips meet the hem, slipping your hands up his naked back.

“Give me all of you.” The rough timbre of his voice alone has you arching your back as he helps you yank his sweater over his head, tossing carelessly to the side.

The sight of him bare chested, hovering over you with that long hair hanging down almost undoes you right there and then.

Placing your hands on his stomach, you run your palms slowly upwards, enjoying each and every twitch and spasm you extract.

The way he bites his lip, the soft, throaty gasps.

How his eyes seem to darken to onyx in lust.

Pushing against him, you sit up as you slip your hands up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms.

Without uttering a word, you take his hand and tug him up, leading him to the darkened doorway of your room.

As you reach the edge of your bed, he spins you around, tugging your shirt over your head before crushing his mouth against yours once more.

Your head spins from his familiar fragrance of warm spice and tobacco from his cologne, reveling in the fact that he’s covering you in his scent.

Rough calluses brush against your bare flesh, his hands eager yet gentle as he explores you as if they’re dying of thirst and your body is the only thing that can sustain him.

He reacts to each soft whimper, every drawn out moan with his own, heightening the ache between your legs as he backs you towards the bed.

Your nails graze lightly down his back as his teeth nip the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue laving at the tiny marks he’s leaving behind.

“Harder.” he commands, his hands finally slipping down to grab handfuls of your ass to press you into him.

Without even having to question what he means, you dig your nails into the skin of his back, raking them harshly down his skin to leave angry red lines behind.

The room upends as he topples you onto the firm mattress, clinging to one another as you tug and pull, your hands finally making their way back to the button of his pants.

This time he doesn’t stop you, propping himself up to watch as you yank and unzip, pushing down the material keeping him from you.

His ragged panting fills the air around you as he helps you kick them off along with his boxers, your stomach tightening as you encircle his cock as it springs out.

“Oh fuck-” He grunts, hips jerking forward as you stroke along the length.

Before you can respond, he’s returning the favor, yanking off your pants, leaving you only in your bra and panties beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful-” his voice is coarse as he rakes his gaze over you, dipping down to press his face between your breasts to inhale you.

“Yoongi…” You whimper, shivering as his hair tickles your sensitive skin as your hands slip around his back to stroke over the harsh marks you’ve left.

He settles his weight on you, his hips dragging the underside of his dick along your panties as he palms your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“So soft..” He mumbles, tugging down the lace harshly and at this point, you don’t give a damn if he’s torn it.

His words contrast with the feel of him against you, stiff, thick and throbbing as you soak through your panties with every motion he makes.

“Yoongi, oh my god-you’re driving me-insane-” You manage to stutter as he wraps his lips around your taut nipple, suckling gently as he gazes up at your flushed face.

Your fingers find their way back into his hair, grasping desperately as he grins, his eyes shining with delight, your other hand clinging to his shoulder for dear life.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, slowly kissing his way along the valley of your tits, making his way over to give the other fair treatment.

His warm breath tickles your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath as he laughs softly at how you’re reacting to him.

“Lose your mind then, love. I’ve been losing mine over you for years.”

He punctuates the words with a harsh suck as he claims your other nipple, causing your back to arch for him, digging your nails into his shoulder as you tug at his hair.

Your eyes roll as he circles his tongue around the tightened bud, his eyes never leaving your face as the ache between your thighs throbs with need at his every touch.

Years…

You’ve seen many sides of Min Yoongi but nothing compares to the sheer control he has right now, all while holding back the desperate need you can see in his stare.

Your cries grow louder as he reaches between you, his strong hand gripping the side of your panties and ripping the flimsy material, flinging them to the side.

The moment your panties are gone, his fingers are slipping between your lower lips, parting them as he lets out a soft, deep whimper of his own.

You barely register his hand slipping behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra to tug off the now damaged garment.

Your mind is consumed by how deftly his fingers tease at your core, his thumb honing in on your sensitive clit.

“You’re so gorgeous like this…” he rasps out, eyes hooded as he watches you arch your back as he gently circles his thumb, licking his lips as his breathing becomes even more ragged.

Choking back a moan, you writhe under his palm as he teases a fingertip into you before pulling back to rake his eyes over your naked form.

The tightness in your stomach builds as you shudder beneath him, yanking harshly on the hair clenched in your fist.

The moment he flashes that sexy lopsided smile, you can’t hold back anymore.

The last thing you want to do is lie here losing your mind when he looks far too in control.

“Min Yoongi, if you aren’t buried deep inside of me in the next ten seconds-”

Your words are punctuated by another tug of his hair, your legs slipping around his thighs, hips tilting to offer yourself up to him in desperation.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth is on yours once more, his fingers parting from you to guide the head of his cock against your aching entrance.

He lets out a shuddering breath against your lips, a soft groan building in his throat as you feel him start to sink into your warmth.

He brings his hand up to cup your face as he slowly fills you, the sound of your name on his lips swallowed up as you deepen the kiss.

You gasp as you feel yourself clench around him, your body already shaking beneath him as he draws back just to thrust forward once more.

“Fuck-!” he growls as his lips leave yours, looking down between you to watch his cock delve into you, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

All you can muster is a moan, then a sharp gasp as he pulls almost all the way out, then thrusts forward suddenly as he bottoms out within you.

“Yoongi!” you cry out, wet noises filling the room as he starts snapping his hips into you, setting a hard but steady pace.

All you can do is watch his face as he fucks you, that gorgeous dark hair dangling above you as he bites his lip in concentration.

“Look at me.” you demand between moans, drawing his attention back to you.

His eyes flick up to your face, then rake down your body and back up as the force of his thrusts cause your body to shake beneath him.

“I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you, fuck you feel so good-” He moans as he dips down to reclaim your lips.

“Don’t fucking stop-” you whimper between kisses, and he only responds by grasping your wrist and pinning it over your head.

His mouth leaves yours, hot breath skimming over your chin, then your neck as he kisses and licks his way over to your ear.

“Do you like it when I fuck your pretty little pussy?” He growls, the deep tone of his voice sending a shock through your body alone.

His pace quickens as you tighten around him, your moans and whimpers only encouraging him as you begin to feel the familiar need building in your abdomen.

“Fuck, yes, Yoongi! Harder!” you scream, the heat of his breath, the sounds of his guttural moans vibrating in your eardrum pushing you closer and closer to tipping over that precipice.

Your back arches, angling your hips so that he’s hitting your sensitive clit with each thrust as his cries grow louder, melding with your own.

The sound of your name in your ear almost undoes you, and you let out a choked scream as he draws back to look down at you.

“So close-” you gasp as he releases your wrist, threading his fingers with yours above your head.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna come for me?” he rasps out as he watches your face contort with every motion.

You nod your head frantically, feeling as if you’re balanced on a tightwire and all you want to do is fall off.

You can feel his entire body quaking as he continues to speak, the sexiest filth dripping from his lips in that rich deep voice.

“Let me feel you come around my cock, baby, that’s it. You’re all mine, all fucking mine, and I’m all yours-fuck! God, your cunt is perfect, so tight and wet, I just want to fill you full-”

Each word is like a nudge, and finally the sensation that’s been bubbling up within you this entire time seems to erupt from every single cell in your body as you finally tip over the edge.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” is all your brain can manage as your orgasm crashes into you, clenching tightly around him as your body lifts from the bed.

Your strangled cries are met with his own, ripped from his throat as his eyes widen, his lips parting in an “o” as he throws his head back and thrusts forward once more.

A warm burst fills you as his whole body tenses above you, trying your hardest to watch him fall apart along with you.

The ringing in your ears starts to fade, and the only sounds in the room are your combined labored breathing as he slowly lowers himself down to nuzzle his face into your neck.

You gasp as you involuntarily clench around him, a hoarse moan escaping him as he slowly gives you a few small thrusts as he finally empties himself deep inside of you.

Swallowing harshly, you do your best to catch your breath as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.

You’re both covered in sweat, you think, a small smile curling your lips as you close your eyes and bask in the after effects of your joining.

“Fuck.” Yoongi grumbles into your neck, his lips dancing over your sticky skin.

“Mhm.” you agree, humming softly.

Floating through the haze of bliss, you finally open your eyes as you feel him draw back, withdrawing from you to leave a wet mess seeping out.

Your eyes meet his and he just gives you a sleepy smile as you continue to run your fingers through the strands of his hair.

He rolls you both to the side, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you softly, no words spoken for what seems like eternity.

No words are really needed, just soft touches, kisses, little smiles and laughs as your eyes meet.

The sun starts to creep through the blinds before he finally whispers that he will return in a moment, leaving you only long enough to bring back a warm cloth to clean you up a bit.

Blushing slightly, you help do the same for him, tossing the cloth into the laundry before you settle back into his arms.

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lets out a long breath.

“You’re not leaving yet, right? You’ll stay for a bit?” You ask him, finally breaking the silence as the birds sing outside the window.

He laughs softly, propping himself up to look down at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Of course I’m not just leaving…unless you’re kicking me out?” He responds, biting his lip as he runs his finger along your shoulder.

You snort, shaking your head, “Sorry, no. You told me you’re all mine so I think I may just keep you.”

You do your best to keep a straight face, failing horribly as he feigns shock, his brows drawing together adorably as he protests.

“You think?!” he teases, sliding his arm around you to pull you closer, rolling you both so you’re on top of him.

“Hmm…” you straddle his hips, brushing back his dark strands as you admire the handsome man beneath you, “I can be convinced…”

He gives you that familiar gummy smile you love so much before he’s growling out your name, tugging your mouth to his as he laughs.

“Oh, really? I’m actually quite good at pleading my case…” he hums as his hands slip down to take two handfuls of your ass.

“By all means-”

It’s midday by the time you both manage to uncling to one another.

“I shouldn’t have let you shower with me…” you hum as you make coffee, shaking your head as you feel his arms wrap around you from behind.

“Well, we were just conserving water…” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle as you contemplate what to make for an early dinner.

By the time you get around you checking your phone, you sigh at the many missed messages and calls.

“I think Hoseok is going to send the police to my house.” you tell Yoongi as you both sit down to finally eat something.

He just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gestures to your phone.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet, honestly.” He grumbles, taking a bite as you read through your messages.

“Well that would be a fun conversation…” you hum, biting your lip as you contemplate how that is going to go over with everyone.

“Speaking of…” Yoongi says, placing his utensils down as he leans back to look at you.

You glance at him, knowing what he’s thinking.

“Should probably leave that to me.” You tell him before he can continue.

Feeling suddenly shy, you clear your throat as you look over at him.

He’s only wearing a pair of your sweats, his naked shoulders and chest distracting you as you try to think of your next words.

“We are…together ... .like…” you gesture with your hands, embarrassed at asking.

He only blinks at you, shock on his face before he is leaning forward and taking your hand.

“Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, an amused lopsided smile growing on his face at how flustered you are.

You just slap his hand, but then slip your fingers through his, nodding shyly.

“Yes, baby. I told you last night…I want you. All of you.” he whispers.

Your eyes meet his and you can only blush, your cheeks heating at his words.

“You have me, then. All of me.” you tell him.

“Where the fuck is she?” Hoseok mutters, doing his best to contain the rising panic as he makes his way to your apartment building.

Checking his phone for the hundredth time since last night, he sighs.

Over the last month, it feels as if you’ve been withdrawing more and more, but you still respond to his messages.

If he’s being honest, it didn’t feel very good.

All he can think of is the comments everyone has been making.

What if she does end up dating?

What if she has someone she likes?

Hoseok can only frown as he finally gets in the elevator to take him up to see you.

Of course, that would eventually happen.

Someone she’s interested in, other than me, he thinks.

The idea is so completely foreign, he has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.

More important than me?

Shaking off the thought and this feeling of discontent it brings, he pushes himself off the side of the elevator wall as the doors open.

Making his way down your hallway, he glances up as your door opens, a sense of relief filling him as he hears your familiar laugh.

That relief is short-lived as he hears a man’s voice responding to your voice.

Not just any man’s voice-

He stops in shock as he watches you emerge from your apartment, hand in hand with another man.

He can’t make out the words, but his heart seems to drop into his stomach as he recognizes the owner of the hand in yours.

Min Yoongi.

Fucking Min Yoongi…holding your hand.

The hand holding his phone clenches tightly as he watches his friend lean in and brush your hair back, your eyes seeming to dance with happiness as you gaze at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he hears faintly as he watches you nod to him.

“Tomorrow.” he hears your voice respond.

The world seems to stop as he watches two of his closest friends lean towards each other and kiss.

“No way…” he whispers, but it’s not amusement or happiness at watching two obvious lovers leaving one another.

No…against everything that is logical, he feels a burning rage and betrayal building deep in his stomach.

Before he can even process it, he’s turning on his heel, making his way to the emergency stairs and rushing down and out of the building before either of you notice him.

His phone starts to buzz as he makes his way home, and he sends it to voicemail immediately.

He can’t even form the words to say to you right now.

Not while he’s feeling like this.

Whatever this was.

#bwhq ficstoric society #ksmutsociety #Min Yoongi smut #Yoongi Smut #BTS Yoongi Smut #Suga Smut #BTS Suga Smut #bts au #bts fanfic

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colormepurplex2 · 5 months ago

Text

I swear, I loved the tension and the opposing thoughts in the beginning. I could feel the drive Jimin had for finding the FMC, and it seemed corded with sexual tension, then the FMC is introduced, and it's clear she's distressed over something and is fearing retribution or negative effects from Jimin. I was so intrigued to find out who had the right of it lol

But then…oh, then, we get to the good part 👀 (spoilers below)

“You didn’t finish.” You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about? Oh, right. “The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.” “No,” he stepped forward. “You.” You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.” “You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.” Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?” “So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

Like PUH-LEASE, the fact that's what Jimin was so worked up over -swoon-

I don't think I can think about the words eat or empty the same again after this 😂 who knew they could be so erotic? This was such a lovely little read, the perfect palette cleanser for my busy and hectic life right now. But also, the visuals in this were superb. This matched the vibe and intensity of Like Crazy so well, but also in the beginning, I got notes of Who by the way Jimin was dressed and approaching the club and stuff. All around, this just embodied so much of Jimin; it was (like) crazy.

SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends.

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step.

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in.

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.”

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss.

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more.

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable.

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again.

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

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bangtanwritershq · 4 months ago

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BANGTANWRITERSHQ PRESENTS: “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” MASTERLIST

Got a secret. Can you keep it? Swear this one you'll save. Better lock it in your pocket. Taking this one to the grave. “Shhh… You can’t tell a soul.” You look around to make sure everyone else is focused on their own tasks before you lean closer, hand curling around your mouth to funnel the secret as it leaves your lips directly into the ears of your friend. Their eyes light up, growing wide as they take in the truth of why you’ve been acting so weird lately. You can see all of the questions rolling around in their head: how long has this been going on? Does you-know-who know about this? If this secret gets out, what will the consequences be? All you can do is shake your head subtly—now is not the time for questions. You barely know how you ended up in this situation in the first place. All you know for sure is that one decision led to another decision, whether poorly timed or rash or not thought out at all, you can’t take it back: this is one secret you can’t risk getting out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s already too late. That’s the thing about secrets—the truth is bound to reveal itself. Whether it’s a secret between lovers, a secret past, a secret child, or a secret not made to last this quarter, we wanted to collect all of our character's dirty little secrets. For our Third Quarter 2024, we asked our members to find all the skeletons hidden in their characters’ closets.

KEY:

🔞 - nsfw (mature themes) ✅ - sfw (no warnings) 💖 - smut ⚠️ - other warnings

SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count

🔞💖⚠️ Paramour | @lo1k-diamonds [1/1] Pairing: Taehyung x (f) reader AU/Genre: Workplace Relationship, Idol & Normee/Taboo Romance Rating: MA WC: 6,200

🔞💖⚠️ Blooming Wallflowers | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Firefighter!Namjoon x SingleMother!f.Reader AU/Genre: Firefighter, Single Parent Rating: MA WC: 20,813

🔞💖⚠️ Risqué Business | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Taehyung x Reader AU/Genre: Boss/Employee, Situationship Rating: MA WC: 7,940

🔞💖⚠️ Stellar Behavior | @lo1k-diamonds [7/7] Pairing: Yoongi x Reader AU/Genre: Criminal/Law AU Rating: MA WC: 43,529

🔞💖⚠️ Beware The Thorns | @colormepurplex2 [2/2] Pairing: Yoongi x Jimin x Jungkook x f.Reader AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Step-Sibling, Mafia/Crime Rating: MA WC: 17,491

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hisunshiine · 3 months ago

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—eternal reign | knj |

🥀 pairing: vampire king!namjoon x concubine!namedreader 🥀 au/genre: arranged marriage au, joseon era au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst 🥀 rating: M 🥀 wc: 7,748 🥀 warnings: some Joseon Dynasty research, reader starts as a concubine, mentions of murders, minor character deaths (off screen, minimal detail), patriarchal society, this is a vampire story, so some things come with the territory, like: mentions of blood, dubious consent, blood drinking, bleeding, scars, predator/prey feelings, explicit smut: unprotected vaginal sex, blood play, marking, eating out, nipple play 🥀 an: I used some of the historical figures of the Joseon Dynasty, and while I researched a lot for accuracy of this time period to respect the culture to the best of my knowledge, some historical information has been shifted and molded as this is a fiction story. For more information on Korean Coronation Events. Dual POV of 3rd and 2nd person, but the reader is named.

special thanks to the beta readers: @moonleeai, @colormepurplex2, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, and @pars-ley

🥀 summary: In the shadowed courts of the Joseon Dynasty, a new King rules—one who holds a centuries-old secret that could unravel the kingdom. Namjoon, cloaked in mystery, is forced into a political marriage with the cunning yet unknowing Taelani, who soon discovers that her husband is no mere mortal. Drawn into his dark legacy and a web of alliances that could seal their fate, Taelani faces a choice: fulfill her family’s long-hidden destiny or defy it in pursuit of a forbidden love. As whispers of blood and betrayal rise, the throne itself may be the ultimate sacrifice.

🥀 an#2:🎃This wicked treat was written for Theresa - @mrsparkjimin18 as part of the “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event 🎃and was also written for the @bangtanwritershq’s 4th Quarter Writing Event: Monster Mash

masterlist ❁ ao3

Joseon Dynasty year 1483

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

Namjoon never expected to sit upon the sacred altar in Changdeokgung Palace, as the recipient of the Three Cheers from the crowd, where the people hurrahed for his longevity and for the dynasty.

“We are meant to rule from the shadows,” the memory of his grandfather’s voice flits through his head as if he’s standing beside him. “An absolute and eternal reign relies on the eternal flame which burns with our dedication and loyalty, and which must remain out of sight from those who wish to douse our light.”

And yet, mere hours ago, under the beating heat of the Korean sun, he participated in the Transfer of the State Seal with Queen Sindeok, listened to the Three Solemn Calls, watched as the Three Kowtows were performed, and returned it with the Four Ceremonious Bows.

The room around him is loud, and Namjoon struggles to focus for a moment as he gazes across the crowded space. The gilded walls encapsulate the refreshments and revelry as the noble families celebrate his ascension to ruler of the country. He looks around, eyes finally landing on his family members split between being wall flowers blending in and meteor showers glittering as they shine across the night sky.

He takes an unneeded deep breath, sighing in his discomfort. He knows it was his idea; something had to be done to maintain the balance in the realm, but he’s not used to being a figurehead for something so much larger than himself—for the very thing he sacrificed everything for to protect.

“Ah, Yi Bang— I mean, King Namjoon, my apologies,” the greasy-haired Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon bows lowly in apology at using the given name of the prince and not his newly appointed royal title now that the transition to king has been completed.

That is one upside to this position, Namjoon thinks as he stares at the man. Even if I must hide my identity, at least I am able to keep my true name.

“I wanted to present to you my family’s gift for your coronation.” His eyes, small and squirrely, gleam with a dark intent that Namjoon has always detested. As one of the government officials appointed by the previous Queen’s father, Dojeon craves ultimate power, pushing for the Councillors to make decisions for the King, instead of enacting and enforcing the King’s decisions. “This is Jeong Taelani, my eldest daughter. She is now yours, Pyeha.”

The honorific term is not lost on Namjoon. The Chief State Councillor’s schmoozing actions are as oily as his hair, but Namjoon’s not a squeaking door, and his disdain only grows as he tracks the sweep of Dojeon’s hand towards the girl next to him, as if he needs a concubine to loosen him up.

But Namjoon has to work hard to school his features back to stoic boredom when his eyes fall onto the—unable to believe he called her a girl—beautiful woman standing a pace behind her father.

Red hanbok lace and silks flow over her curves. Gold threading is woven intricately at the hem, along the cuffs engulfing her delicate hands, and at the lapels that tie above the swell of her breasts, glimmering, resplendent swirls that captivate him. He doesn’t show it, though. Despite his next words, his tone is full of boredom and his eyes barely linger on her.

“Thank you, Dojeon, she is a true beauty.”

The older man smirks, rubbing his bearded face thoughtfully. “She has been trained for, ahem, her position—assisting your every need—in the palace her whole life, and vetted through the steps to be placed here just last week. I am sure that you will find her to be up to your standards.” He bows once more, this time much lower, before backing away from the elevated seating area and disappearing back into the party.

“Emperor,” Taelani bows deeply, her knees gracefully meeting the floor as she pays him the respect of a ruling monarch. Her voice is a deeper honey sound, more seduction than the tittering pitch of the female nobles Namjoon is used to.

“Jeong Taelani,” Namjoon tests her name in his mouth, her jasmine fragrance invading his senses as she resumes her previous standing position. Her large eyes look away from his gaze quickly, but that’s all he needs to feel the heat of the lightning they struck him with. He can feel his pants tightening—thankfully, his gujangbok covers his crotch from the view of both Taelani and his attendees.

He stiffens, feeling something else begin to lengthen in need, and he turns his eyes swiftly away from Taelani, looking at the palace guards nearest him.

“Please escort Taelani to her chambers, and send for the Huwon guards. I will meet them shortly.”

🥀

Sharpened ivory glistens under the moonlight before piercing the unblemished bronze skin of the woman’s throat, his venom silencing the beginnings of a guttural shriek before it can really begin. He settles in the gazebo with a jimil nain, or lady-in-waiting, straddled across his lap. Her throaty sounds transition instead to a pleasurable moan as she attempts to grip the lapels of his ceremonial robes.

He grasps her hands, pulling them away from him and moving them behind her back, clutching both wrists in one hand so his free hand can resume controlling her head for his monthly feeding. One that he should not have needed just yet, thanks to the retaliatory massacre last week, but he ignores that fact for now.

The blood fills his mouth, sharp pulls draining the essence from the woman as her movements against his body slow. He’s thankful—her body is not the one he craves to be writhing above him in pleasure, despite her lovely sounds and curves.

He has to play this role smartly. His family’s legacy is on the line. He withdraws his fangs, feeling the dull ache of thirst dissipate fully as his blood lust retreats. The woman is nearly unconscious, and the two guards who brought her approach her limp form silently.

“Thank you,” he says to his younger brothers, both adorned in the traditional wear of the Naegeumwi Royal Guards. They take the woman from him as he stands before the youngest of the two, Jungkook, takes her fully and holds her almost in a lover’s embrace. Namjoon looks at them as he steps several paces away and Taehyung, his other sibling, approaches him and straightens his robes to help him look presentable again.

“NaBi was the only one we could get on such short notice,” he explains quietly as the sounds of Jungkook feeding crescendos and subsequently drops as he heals the bites on the now sleeping woman’s neck. “She was already in Kook’s room waiting for him.”

Namjoon runs his fingers over his silks, tightening the belt at his waist. “Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t mean to mess up his feeding schedule. The hunger just took over and I…”

“He understands.” Taehyung places his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We’ve never taken on something like this, so we didn’t know what to prepare for. We’ll move more of the feeders into the palace in various positions, and Jimin can oversee them. Your plan was the best one, and we will find a way to make it work.”

Jungkook cradles the woman’s body in his arms bridal style as he steps towards the door. He and Taehyung lead Namjoon out of the garden and back towards the main palace. Jungkook turns to the left down a hallway after they enter shelter as Taehyung and Namjoon continue toward the Emperor's chambers.

“Have Jimin order more of the blood tea for the feeders. I’m not sure how often I’ll need to feed now that…” he trails off as they walk, thoughts conflicted with this strange turn of events. He stops once he reaches the doorway of his room. “And Taehyung? Discretion, please.”

Namjoon feels the tension leave his body once he is in his own space. He didn’t expect to feel the voracious pull to feed so soon—he drank more than his fill merely a week ago. Typically, he feeds once a month, so the blood lust he just quenched is strange. Could it be because of his new concubine? Her scent is oddly alluring to him, and his attraction to her is undeniable. He hasn’t ever experienced such a thing, but maybe one of the elders knows something more.

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

Confused. That’s how you feel as you are led away from the king, his eyes regarding you cooly before you disappear into the quiet halls of the palace. Your slippers and the silks you wear are the only sounds you hear as you are shown the pathway to your quarters, and then the low hum of the maids' voices as they help you undress and prepare for bed.

The next week continues much the same as your first night in the castle. The other court members are seemingly always busy, leaving you bored and unsure of yourself. On the one hand, you are happy that you haven’t been called upon like you were warned would happen—like you’ve been trained for. Your womanhood remains intact, something you did not expect to happen, but it allows your time of the month to come and go without any issues.

A part of you did fear that your menstrual cycle would agitate the new king should he come upon you that first night, but instead, he had shied away, allowing you time to spend in the royal library reading and writing letters to your sisters. At the end of the first week, you squeal with happiness when a courtier brings you a sealed parchment marked with your family’s crest.

Dearest Taelani,

How have you been? We are so pleased that you’ve had time to write to us. Is it nice there? I so wish we could have joined you on the trip, but Father said no. Are the rumors true? Is the king as bloodthirsty as his predecessors? Is there war on the horizon? Will you be able to throw a fancy ball so we can visit? I know you’re his only concubine right now, do you think you will become his wife? Father is not telling us much, and he’s making it seem like we shall never get to travel to see you.

Don’t forget us!

As if you could ever forget your sisters. And a ball sounds like a lovely idea…really. You wonder if the king would allow you to do such a thing and if your father would allow your sisters to come. Maybe if the king demanded their presence. Your sister made a good point that right now, there’s no one else to compete with for his affections. If you can charm him, is there a possibility..? If only he would see you or talk to you. How else could you convince him of this one favor, or even that you’re worthy of a more legitimate role?

It couldn’t be so easy as to show up at his bedchamber tonight and try and convince him with a well-placed massage? Could it?

Deciding to reign in all of your thoughts, you hold off on writing back so as to see first if you could plan a soiree of some sort, and turn back to the book you were reading before the courtier arrived. It was not written all that long ago, but it details some of the more recent history of the country, including the king’s grandfather.

You had always thought it to be an urban legend, the stories whispered in the dark about when his grandfather was in power, but as you read through the history of the family, you realize with each story of the king’s grandfather that he truly was blood thirsty for power—he apparently murdered all of his older siblings for the throne.

There is a massive family plot to the south of the palace that holds his deceased siblings, and ever since, despite the number of enemies the crown has acquired over the years, his family line has been the only one to rule. Every attempt to maim and murder the royal family has been thwarted, and the groups leading the coups are never to be seen or heard from again. Bloodthirsty isn’t even half of it.

Closing the handwritten tome, you gather your skirts about you so that you can climb off the comfortable lounging spot. You have spent all week reading through to try and understand this family that you now reside with, but all you seem to find is death and despair. Through the window you can see the sun is setting, and now that you have a plan in mind, you decide to seek out the king instead of waiting for him to come to you. With your cycle gone, you feel confident enough to seduce King Namjoon. As his first concubine, you are sure you won’t be the last, but you want to make an impression.

As a woman in this world, your power is lacking. The power you do hold will be in the sons you can bear for the king, and in the ability to wield your feminine wiles to seduce and keep the king wrapped around your finger. Best to start now.

🥀

The palace corridors are well-lit as you traverse the pathway towards the king’s chambers. You made a quick stop at your own rooms, shedding the hairpins that bound your hair tightly, allowing your tresses to fall in subtle waves from the earlier styling. You also shed some of the layers you typically wear, allowing you to show off more of your curves.

There doesn’t appear to be anyone outside the door to his room, so you slip in easily, taking a look around. The room is tidy, with barely anything on display on the walls or in cabinets to show his personality. Cold, just like he was the first time you met. A few minutes pass as you observe what you can, until voices outside the door alert you to the king’s approach. You position yourself on his bed, sitting at the edge with a leg crossed over the other and your palms behind you as you lean back slightly.

Your loose hair is over one shoulder, and you attempt to flutter your eyes demurely as King Namjoon steps into his bedchamber.

🥀

Ten minutes later, you stand in your own room again, confused by what had occurred. The King, a young, virile man, sent you out after you all but threw yourself at him. If anything, he seemed in a rush to get you out of his rooms, all but promising that you had nothing to worry about when you voiced not carrying out your duties.

“I know you worry about your standing in the palace, but you have nothing to fear. I will not be taking in any other women—you are the only one for me. You will be my Queen Consort. So please, you don’t have to stoop to these levels. You are excused.”

You definitely hadn’t prepared what to do in the event that the King said you didn’t need to seduce him and that you would be his Queen Consort. All of the stories the women told you about had prepared you for losing your virginity and other sexual acts to seduce the King and win his favor. Nothing they shared with you implied you wouldn’t have to do anything sexually with the man and he would raise your status one step, though a large one in the eyes of the nation. A wedding already in the works, unbeknownst to you. How strange this new king is.

🥀

The royal wedding that everyone has been waiting for a month to arrive is nearly here, with you in your red gowns of silks and satin, awaiting your cue for the ceremony. As much as you’ve enjoyed not having to behave wantonly, a part of you is drawn to your betrothed, and you realize: you want to. His movements as he walks through the palace, the grace with which he moves and speaks, all of these small things seem to thrum through your body, lighting all of your nerve endings on fire.

Why he denies himself the access he has to your body, you aren’t sure, but you hope that this wedding means that will come to an end. Maybe he’s just been waiting for tonight to consummate the marriage, instead of behaving how you were warned all men with power behave.

Everything is a blur as the hours pass, the sun crossing the sky until it descends below the horizon, allowing the moon to rise into its rightful place. With all of the revelers now sated in thirst or hunger or desire, they’re all sequestered away in the places that allow them to unwind. Most of the palace is now quiet, and you tiptoe with feather-light steps across the bedchamber towards your newly betrothed.

The King sits at an ornamental desk, metallic paints wrapping around the curves of the furniture as he leans over and writes, the scratches of the quill on the parchment revealing the short strokes he writes in Hangul. He’s shirtless, wide shoulders unblemished and you want nothing more than to mar the skin with signs of pleasure.

Your fingers lift to lightly trace along his right shoulder, but before you can touch him, his left hand grasps your fingers as he half turns to face you. You let out a small gasp in surprise—you didn’t think he would have heard you sneak up on him.

“Perhaps you should head to bed, Taelani, it was a long day.”

He barely looks at you as he speaks, and you feel yourself wilting. It’s fascinating, but deeply disturbing to you that it seems like he’s attracted to you but keeps turning you away. Everything you’ve been told about men is wrong. You want him to have his way with you, and he can’t be bothered to even stop drafting a letter to look at you for more than a second.

You feel yourself pouting, and it seems to work for a moment. Namjoon’s eyes soften, and he tugs you closer when you attempt to pull your hand out of his.

“I know this is not the most normal of situations, but I won’t stop you from seeking out your needs. You can take up with anyone as long as it is discreet, and any children you should bear will all be raised as if they are my own.” You freeze as he releases his hold on you and turns away, back to his missive.

You step away from him, trekking backward until the backs of your thighs touch the silk sheets on the bed. Embarrassment heats your neck and cheeks, because you do not understand why your husband turns away from you. It makes you feel…unwanted. Sitting down, you can only blink as you attempt to understand the man before you. But nothing thus far has made any sense.

🥀

The movement of the bed slowly wakes you, and you stretch your limbs out as your eyes blearily try to take in the low lighting in the room.

“...need the Huwon guards as soon as possible, I will meet them there.”

You stay still when you hear his voice, your brain instantly becoming more alert as you try to hear more of his request, but it only grows quiet again as the door shuts. You can barely hear his footfalls as he flits about the room, and you sneak a peek through cracked eyes as you keep your breathing level. He’s grabbing his upper garments and re-dressing, and in only a few more moments, he’s slipping out of the door.

You get up, immediately grabbing for your robes as you slip from the satin sheets to follow your new husband.

You stay as far back as you can, drifting between shadows as you make your way towards what you now know is the Huwon Secret Garden. While the garden grounds themselves take up a large expanse of the palace area, there is a beautiful and intimate pagoda of sorts that lies in the rear after crossing a small bridge with a tiny waterfall. You lose sight of Namjoon, but you know he must be headed there, so you continue on your way, avoiding the minimal guard presence.

Approaching the enclosed garden pergola, a gasping moan sounds and you quicken your steps, evermore the curious. Peering through one of the open slats of the enclosure, you see your king—your husband—with his arms wrapped around another woman. His mouth is to her neck as she straddles him, and though her face is hidden between the shadows and behind his bulky build, you know you heard the pleasure she felt. When he pulls back from her, you watch, entranced, as he laves his tongue along the skin he’s just marked. A burning jealousy shoots through your veins until a cloud moves out of the moonlight and a beam shines straight through.

Your eyes widen as they take in the elongated fangs, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, and the way the woman now lay limply in his arms. Spinning on your heel, you flee back to your room, praying that your pounding heart calms enough before he returns.

🥀🥀🥀Namjoon🥀🥀🥀

It’s almost debilitating to Namjoon having his new wife around him. It’s been only a week—one mere week of his eternal life—and you have made him into a ravenous, salacious blood fiend. This lust for the iron-smelling essence that runs through mortal veins, and one in particular more so than the others, means that he hasn’t been handling all of the new changes to his life well.

Going from the shadows and becoming the face of the nation he loves so much, that his whole family has given their lives for, is not exactly what he expected. He is much more used to using violence with his bare hands—and teeth—for their gain. Having to navigate politics with his wife’s father, Chief State Councillor Jeong Dojeon, is a whole new experience for him.

Not to mention that he’s insatiably drawn to his titillating wife, but knowing that her father is actively working against the reigning family has Namjoon’s guard up. The way she keeps trying to throw herself at him… Admittedly, he knows he’s spied on her letters and conversations, and she seems none the wiser to what her father is doing, but too much is at stake for him to risk it without knowing where she stands for sure.

Namjoon stretches his arms above his shirtless torso, then sets down the quill to mull over the letter he needs to finish and send to the front lines of their war efforts against the rival faction. They’ve quieted down some, ever since their attack on the true prince which led to an almost absolute destruction of said rival faction, but money will unite anyone against a common enemy if paid enough.

His ears perk up as he takes in the thrumming melody of your heartbeat as you move around the adjacent bathing room to your communal bedchamber. It’s late, much later than a person would typically bathe, and without the aid of maids, but he’s in no hurry to overwhelm his senses with you. He focuses on the sounds; of the water draining from the side of the palace, of the soft garments sliding along your skin as you dress, and he tenses—readying himself for your scent to overtake him as he turns and stands to face your re-entrance into the room.

Beautiful. Your large eyes are bright, warm even, and the way your body gracefully moves in that—he forcefully exhales as you approach him in an ornately sewn, semi-transparent lace robe. The vision of your full breasts with lace flowing over the peaks stuns him momentarily, and he allows himself a moment to drink you in. He’s so focused on trailing his eyes along the cupid’s bow of your full top lip that he doesn’t realize you’ve spoken to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

“Oh,” you look down demurely, taking him by surprise. “My king, please. I would like just a moment of your time.”

“Of course,” Namjoon replies, but hesitates as he sits back down, unsure of what could have triggered such a formal conversation. Though, to be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the best conversationalist with his own wife.

He watches as you pull a small, stuffed stool closer to him and sit on it regally. The robe parts with the movement and he’s able to see that only a thin sliver of fabric covers your mound. Everything else is revealed to him. Your navel, your thighs, so much skin…

“I know that you’ve given me permission to seek out other men, but I—I don’t want that.”

Namjoon is still as he reigns in his impure thoughts and focuses all of his attention on you. “What is it that you want?”

“I want my husband. I–don’t you also feel—I just…” you sigh, and the weight of your next words would bring Namjoon to his knees had he not been sitting. “I know who you are. And I don’t care. I—”

Namjoon stands to his full height, eyes slightly narrowed at your small frame.

“You know who I am?” he questions with disdain. Of course, you were too good to be true and exactly what he expected of your father.

“Yes, you may be the king, but more than that, you’re my husband.”

Namjoon pauses, listening on, but can see how tense you remain to continue speaking. “And what exactly don’t you care about?” He questions.

“I don’t care that you’re a—a vampire,” you rush out and continue speaking. “So please, don’t hold yourself back from me, I don’t want you to seek out your pleasure from others in the castle when I’m right here.”

His brain reels with an overwhelming amount of thoughts as you look up at him from where you sit, shoulders tight and lifted towards your ears as your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath you take as you wait for him to speak.

You know he’s a vampire. How, he isn’t sure, because he knows that your father is not aware of that fact. No, he only assumed that your father had figured out that he was not the true prince, and instead a cousin filling in for the role, and shared this information with you. Nope, you meant you knew that he was immortal and knew of his late-night proclivities. He slowly lowers himself into the chair he vacated, wholly unprepared when you throw yourself forward onto your knees before him.

“Please, I’m right here. I only want you to touch me. No one else.”

Unable to resist, Namjoon does touch you, reaching beneath your arms to lift you to him. Even while standing, your eyes are only a few inches above him as he sits, and you step between his parted legs when he gently tugs you further into his space.

“I didn’t realize that my words made you feel unwanted.” Namjoon speaks slowly as he gathers his thoughts to organize his words. “I’m unsure how you came about this information, but I.. th-there’s some things we should clear up.”

Your eyes appear to study him intently, brows inching closer as your face wrinkles with apprehension. The flooding of your veins as your heart rate increases leads Namjoon to pause and hold his breath before speaking.

“There is a reason that I have been so distant, and yet have only sought out to take one wife and no others. It came to my attention that your father has been one of the main financial supporters of a rival political party that supports more control from Chief Councilors and less from me. This money helped supply weapons and mercenaries, and there was an…attempt on my life recently. It was nearly successful at bringing down this clan’s reign and ending our family line.”

You gasp as he reveals this partial truth, and say, “I swear to you, my king, I knew not of such plans, I know my father has ambitions and a dislike for the lack of his power due to the crown, but not that he would steep to such levels for gain.” Namjoon can feel the way your pulse reacts as he holds your wrists in his large hands. You truly were not aware, and this knowledge helps quell any lingering doubts he has about sharing more information with you.

“I believe that you had no knowledge of his plans or his financial support. But, because of that event, it is what led me to say yes to you as my concubine. You see, I felt that by having his daughter in the palace and by my side, that he would pull back his support of any rivals, and even decide to stop pushing for less control, especially since any heir would be his own grandchild to be on the throne.” Namjoon knows this last part is a lie, since he could not provide you with any children and the plan that is in place would not allow any child of yours to be on the throne, but he can’t tell you that.

You nod, eyes rapt with attention as they pour over his face, gleaning any additional information you can.

“My king, I do not support my father in his ventures. I promise you, I…he has never been much of a father to me. More like a tyrant or like…like he believes that my life does not matter more than what I am able to provide for him. You have saved me from him in so many ways, and I just want to show you my gratitude. I want you to feel my appreciation.”

Your tone holds not an ounce of seductive undertones as you continue, “I care not that you are a vampire, I—” he allows you to pull free from his hold, turning your hands so that your palms lay on the outsides of his and you guide them carefully through the opening of your robes to your bare bosom, cupping his hands around your full chest. “I ache for you, Namjoon. I have never felt such a desire before, have never sought out the affections of a man. In truth, I’m terrified, but not because of what you are, but because I have never crossed this line before.”

And Namjoon, still a man with carnal desires despite his blood lust, wants to be the one you cross that line with. He can feel the weight of your breasts as you move closer, stepping in such a way so that you can straddle him—which you do moments later. He feels his hands tighten around your chest without your fingers leading the motion, and the tiny, breathy moan that you release brushes against his lips from your proximity.

He’s hardening, lengthening; his cock pressing against your clothed heat and his fangs inching from his parted lips, both aching to open you up for him. And just as the circling press of your pert nipples to the pads of his thumbs begins, you cover his mouth with yours, moaning for his ears only as you lean into his touch at all junctions where your body touches his.

It’s intoxicating; your scent wraps around him and the feel of your blood thrumming within your body as you tremble from the pure lust that seems to ooze from your pores as you, you! devour his lips with no care of his fangs. Your tongue is tentative, but curious—seeking to glide along his and taste all of him.

When you pull back, he presumes to breathe since he need not this human action, his fang nicks your tongue on retreat. That one drop makes his muscles spasm—you pull back from him faster as his touch turns painful for a moment and then you are flying, landing on the bed in a frenzy and in a blink Namjoon is pressed to the wall farthest from you, his fists clenched tightly as he holds himself back from you.

“There is…still much you need…to know and understand.” Namjoon strains to get the words out, actively fighting his thirst for his wife—for you—whose blood has never been tasted by another, and whose tight cunt has never been taken by another. “Please, walk slowly to the door and get the Huwon guards…”

“No, please, Namjoon, I want—”

“Now!” he roars, watching fear filter into your eyes as you spring from the bed and rush towards the door. With a speed rivaling light, he is in front of you before you can make it three steps from the bed. His predator instinct couldn’t allow you to leave the room now. Grasping you under your thighs, he lifts you effortlessly, drawing his nose along your neckline.

Instantly, your fear melts away from your body, leaving you boneless as he deposits you forcefully to the bed you just vacated.

“You will take me, and I will drink from you, and then, I will tell you everything, but I can’t…can’t let you go. I must have you.”

🥀🥀🥀Taelani🥀🥀🥀

The gentle husband whom you had straddled mere moments before, who had kissed you with a softness that you have never known, was no longer the man above you. Instead, a predator climbs onto the covers as you scramble backwards, but his hand grips your wrist and slides you along the silk sheets back underneath his body.

His hands box in your head, with his knees bracing either side of your hips. Your heart is pounding, and you freeze beneath him, finally understanding why he said to walk slowly.

“Grandfather, what do I do if I encounter a bear or something of the like in the forest?” Five-year-old Taelani asks as she walks along her family grounds with her maternal grandpa.

“My dear Taelani, you must never run if you encounter a large animal. Predators are wired to chase after prey. Be steadfast, like a deer or a hare. Freeze and watch first. They may not mean you any harm, but if you should run, they cannot stop themselves.”

Going stockstill seems to work, just as you remembered learning about as a child. Namjoon mimics this, freezing his own body and his dilated eyes close as he leans closer into you and…inhales.

“I’m sorry, but I—I need to feed.” His voice is tense, a quiet murmur that fills the silence.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you say, proffering your own neck. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“This is not—I wanted this to be different, I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve—”

“—a husband who will make love to me, and feed from only me. Because I am yours, and you are mine.”

His eyes open with a blazing, hungry stare and before you can do anything else, he descends on your lips with a fierceness. His hands move from the sheets to your robe, ripping it open to expose your dusky nipples to the chilled air. He grips the hem of the clothing preventing you from full nudity and all but destroys it as he pulls it from your body in a feral show of strength.

“Mine.” His words are a low growl before his mouth is once again on yours, this time his hands now free to roam your body without clothing to hinder him. His deft hands move in symmetry to cup your breasts, giving them a supple squeeze before drifting down your hips and he moves his body lower along yours so he can hook his arms around the backs of your thighs.

The silks beneath you allow him to easily slip between your skin and the satin, giving him the right angle to push your legs up and bare all to him. You shiver in anticipation, feeling how wet you are by the air now meeting the heat between your thighs. You want him. The throbbing of your clit makes you want to clench your thighs together for some relief, but the way he’s holding you won’t allow it.

His kisses trail lower, mouth hovering over your nipple until his lengthened teeth graze the sensitive skin. Arching your back, he takes this as a sign to suck the peak into his mouth, tongue swirling as you moan. He switches sides, treating them equally before continuing lower, tongue dancing across your navel. The caress of the wet muscle has your body jumping with desire.

“Oh!” You can hardly keep quiet when his tongue tastes you, laving flat across your open warmth before making short, quick passes along your clit. Your hands grip the sheets in desperation—for him to stop, for him to continue—the pleasure is overwhelming.

“You taste…divine,” his voice rumbles, and you try to keep your eyes on him but squeeze them shut when his mouth returns to devour you. Sensual, plump lips kissing you, sucking you, tongue fucking you—you writhe beneath him. His hands press you wider, keeping you open as your muscles fight against the pleasure and threaten to close around his head.

And he doesn’t stop. Not until you're dripping, and the lower half of his face is glistening with you. You barely register his movements, can barely tell that he’s naked and climbing above you until he’s suddenly in your eyeline. Floating…that’s what this feeling is, like floating on a cloud, carefree. And when the blunted tip of his cock nudges at your still quivering heat, you widen your legs and welcome him, urging him to fill you.

And, oh! You don’t expect the pressure to build as he thrusts within you, and you cry out in pain, in pleasure, in ecstasy at the fullness he brings as your walls quiver around him.

Your hands tighten on his shoulders as he begins to move with more gusto, continuing to keen at the feeling—all of the feelings—and slowly the pain lessens and he glides with less stilted motion, bottoming out again and again and again.

A rhythmic chanting sounds, and it takes a few moments for you to recognize your own voice, so laced with desire and lust, pleading for him. “Please, gods, don’t stop, please!” along with a guttural reply, “I won’t,” filling the bed chamber that surely the others in the palace must be awake and able to hear. Namjoon appeases your request and his hips continue to piston fluidly, his strong thighs creating a cacophony of sounds as they meet the backs of yours.

An inhale, sharp and stilting—a grunt, with hips stuttering—his fangs piercing the tender skin at the crook of your neck as you feel the blood weeping from your vein as he drinks deeply of you. And you shatter from the ecstasy, like a fallen vase of porcelain, pieces scattering like twinkling stars across the galaxy in a vibrant bursting of flames.

🥀

“I am…older than I look.” You lay with your head upon Namjoon’s chest, fingers dancing along the smooth, glistening skin of his chest. His voice reverberates in your head as his low timbre continues. “And I am not truly the Queen Mother’s son, but her relative.”

You tilt your head to look up at him.

“I died a little over 50 years ago. Many of my family within these walls are like me. Forever frozen in time. When my father was just a boy in 1390, his uncles and aunts all fell ill of the fever. One by one, they passed away, and his father, fearing death, sought out the answer to life. When all was said and done, the only one to survive the fever was my grandfather’s youngest brother. In order to secure his place on the throne, stories spread that the youngest son killed all of his older siblings for power. In reality, my grandfather helped spread this and protected him all the while from assassination attempts.”

Looking with wide eyes at him, you almost can’t believe that what he says is true. Almost.

“This became our family’s mission. To protect the youngest sibling's line. For all of the children born to the older siblings who did not pass from the fever, upon approaching their 30th year and after having a family if they so wished, would endure the change and live forever. We have grown in our numbers and have always worked to protect the one line that history can know about. The Queen Mother’s great-grandfather is that youngest sibling. Merely days before I took the throne, her son, the true heir, was murdered.”

With a gasp, you sit up, clutching the satin sheets to your naked breasts.

“In order to hide that this attempt was successful, I stepped into his place and took the throne. And the Queen Mother will have another child, one who we will raise as our own and be the next successor, rightfully restoring the line to power once more.”

“I have so many questions, I can’t even begin to list them!” you pout, stifling a yawn at the late hour. You understand that you will have to raise the Queen Mother’s son as your own child so that the correct lineage remains on the throne, but what of your own children?

“We have plenty of time for your questions, my love. Maybe I shall answer some of them as I tell you more?”

As Namjoon continues to regale you with his tale, spelling out exactly how your lives will be, you settle back into his body and listen intently to his deep tenor rumbling against your cheek, curling your naked body around his own, until you fall asleep.

🥀🥀🥀

Epilogue

Eighteen years have passed since Taelani first entered the palace as Namjoon’s concubine.

Eighteen years since you learned the truth about your husband and his family, and full of questions and curious for more information, had kept him up the following nights with all of your thoughts until he lay you down and forced you quiet with his lips on yours and his hands seeking other truths between your legs.

Now, you are a mother to twins—at least, as far as the kingdom was concerned. Your daughter, Seojin, is truly yours and Namjoon’s, a miracle that even Namjoon’s family had not anticipated. Due to most everyone else in his family waiting until they had chosen a mate and had kids to turn, this was an unprecedented event. And Seojin’s twin brother, Jiho—though not truly siblings—but instead cousins, is the answer to keeping the family line on the throne.

Queen Mother Sindeok had hidden away, where she bore a son and then quietly returned to the palace with you and Namjoon, cradling a secret that only your family knew. A secret that she bundled tightly for the trip back and handed into your arms a mere day before your Seojin was born.

By royal decree, the news of the double royal birth spread across the lands, and in short, the Queen Mother’s pregnancy had never happened. Instead, Taelani, beloved Queen Consort to King Namjoon, had given birth to twins—a boy and a girl, heirs to a prosperous future. Together, the twins' birth was celebrated by the populace and secured the power that Namjoon’s grandfather had cultivated over the years, maintaining their hold of the throne their line refused to give up.

The birth of your twins also made sure that your father no longer tried to challenge the current rulers for power over the people. The Chief Councilor must have immediately withdrawn his money and support of the rival factions, as their attacks and their false propaganda dwindled to almost nonexistence.

With the belief that his grandson would take the throne, as the twin who was born minutes before his sister, your father seemed to think better of his past alliances, and instead made to be a better grandfather to them than he was a father to you, in the hopes that his name would be next to theirs in historical records as a formative familial link to the throne.

You still watched over his actions, even now, knowing that he may no longer hunger for the death of the emperor, but that his gusto for power and manipulation was never far from the surface. You and Namjoon had raised your children well though, teaching them to think for themselves and avoid manipulation tactics from even the most persuasive of grandparents.

At eighteen, Seojin showed no outward signs of her father’s affliction, but for a glint in her eyes that she could do more, hear more, see more, smell more—than her human counterparts. Her brother Jiho was smart, empathetic, and set to be a great ruler, carrying on the legacy his forefathers set before him.

It may have been a little over a decade since you joined your husband in an everlasting life, but you have never regretted that decision, not even for a moment. Standing next to him as he pens his speech for Jiho’s coronation, you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair as you stare out at the full moon, large against the backdrop of the stars and dark clouds.

“My love, come to bed,” you suggest, wanting to lay with him, to embrace him, to love him.

“One more line and I’ll join you,” he promises with a smirk. He still looks the same, jovial eyes crescenting as his lips quirk up at you. “Strip, and I’ll make sure to keep you warm.”

His lustful gaze watches as you step backwards towards the bed, eyes staying on his face.

A few moments later, he replaces his quill and caps the ink, fingers tugging at his pants to loosen them from his waist. Your giggles carry with the evening breeze as it whistles quietly through the slats in the window, rustling the parchment Namjoon was writing on and drying the last lines he had written.

“And for our country, with Yi Jiho as emperor, this nation will finally have all we have fought for: strength, power, and a promising future.”

And for you and Namjoon, your sacrifices eighteen years ago continue the legacy of a kingdom destined to be ruled by a lineage of

eternal reign.

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