#jhs:explicit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luaspersona · 2 years ago

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jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaade

i'm still unsure if reading this was a good or a bad decision, but... yeah, i feel like i won't be functioning properly the rest of the week (i think i'll set a rule of my own of ever only reading your smut fics in late fridays or during the weekend, when i'm not expected to work 'cus goddammit jade 😭)

what IS THIS HOSEOK, JADE WHAT DID YOU DO OMG I’M SCREAMING (internally bc i’m at work) SO MUCH JESUS FUKING CHRIST WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT ASS AND CHECKS AND BIG TALK AND NO TOUCHING BUT THEN TOUCHING EVERYTHING AND THEN NOT CUMMING UNTIL SHE—

ok, uhm… yeah

so, as a frustrated hobi biased (i’m sensitive, pls let’s not talk about this) i seek hobi fics like a girl on a mission, but i often fail 😔 here tho? i fucking won the lottery. i love whenever people see hoseok for the teasing menace he is and this has to be one of the best portraits of that. god, just the way you conducted everything? fucking p-e-r-f-e-c-t, so let’s talk about it!

i wanna start this review by saying i absolutely loved this first paragraph:

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

i should really start to count all the times i’ve said it before, but i cleary don’t have enough vocabulary to properly praise you, so here it goes again: jade you ✨creativity✨ is gonna be the death of me one of these days istg. like it makes the story immediately fun and hoseok is such a good character to follow, his perspective is so cocky in the best possible way and the dom in him is immediately slapping me on the face

and the fact that he calls the reader PETAL? i was melting. this an accurate depiction of me while reading it:

this whole starting sequence is just pure excellence, honestly, the way he gets so offended that she’s half-assing their sexting to the point of going to her place lmao aaaa i could never (actually, i’m 100% reader in this scenario). but you built their chemistry so well too, their tension and attraction is tangible 😩 but also their banter during the sex, and hobi being mean is just so delicioussss, i LOVED the teasing, the dirty talk you wrote was just so—

i mEAN!!!! 😭😭😭

“Tell me, then. I’ve read your bark; show me your bite.”

but also

“You wanna sit here and discuss it, or do you wanna feel that cock twitch inside of me?”

this reader is everything i strive to be in life, honestly

also, i liked the detail of her being self conscious ‘cus she couldn’t doll up for him and he not giving a single shit for it, being super hard for her nonetheless, ugh fucking LOVE this kind of dynamic

and the whole lying banter🚨 🚨 🚨 you should be ARRESTED for this! when reader started to call him a liar too i was soooooo goneeeeee

but the last interaction? you couldn’t have ended it better, istg, i mean??

[...] “What did we learn about mouths writing checks?” You try to hide your smile when you roll your eyes up at him. You sound exhausted but thoroughly amused when you respond, “Ass better be able to cash them.”

this was so funny omg 😭😭😭

ugh, ok, yeah, second thought? reading this, as it always is with your writing, was definitely a good fucking choice. this was honestly so fucking good jade, you always outdo yourself, so thank you yet again for giving me something that i’ll be thinking about for weeks

liar, liar (jhs)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are so fucking pretty when you shiver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Playing stupid games wins you stupid prizes.

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

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

“Jay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

Finally. Movement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, please, please just say what you need.

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

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

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

“Got you, petal,” Hoseok murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me,” you answer.

And he does.

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no. Could do this all night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#here i am going through your stuff #i think this is the first oneshot of your i've read tho #jhs:fic #jhs:smut #jhs:pwp #jhs:fb #jhs:explicit #jhs:oneshot #luareads

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luaspersona · 2 years ago

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ok, so i was gonna wait until i arrived home from word to read it, but then the wc looked at me, i looked at it and i was like...

SO HERE I AM, wanting to SCREAM AND EAT MY FIST AT WORK 😭😭😭

i just need to start this by saying what an AMAZING writer you are! the way you were able to contextualize the game and show their intimacy through some little unthought/natural actions (like cuddling and tracing her thighs).

i loved the dialogue, it was so good! their back and forth, their teasing, their getting closer 🤧

now imma just scream with you im sorry, you have only yourself and your amazing smut to blame

AND URGH DJWJSBDJANSKAJZB 😩🔪 THE LEAD UP WAS SO GOOD, SO HOT, THEY GRADUALLY CHANGING FROM GENERAL QUESTIONS TO THEIR OWN WISHES IT WAS SO SENSUAL AND ISTG I—

let's just say i need to go home asap 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

picturing everything, with the words you chose to describe and all, damn it's just really hot. our sope hearts just ❤️‍🔥

i don't know if i should thank you or be mad at you smh

also... would you consider... a part two... with what happens next? the ending line was so good too, i feel like you couldn’t have ended it better, honestly.

Day 3 ❄️ MYG, JHS

Kinks: choking, spiked eggnog

Pairing: Bi!Yoongi x Bi!Reader x Bi!Hoseok

Genre: holiday, smut, porn with the barest of plots, Roommates!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, explicit drinking game, kissing (mxr and mxm), choking, hair pulling, hand job, undernegotiated kink, implied fucking (mxr), implied voyeurism, discussions of multiple sexual scenarios like oral sex (m and f giving, m receiving) and public fingering, Stoner!Hobi because that's my jam, Yoongi is once again the instigator because that is also my jam, also long-haired Yoongi warning

Word Count: 2.3K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Secrets come to light after your roommate spikes the eggnog

A/N: The genesis for this one came from a discussion in the group chat with @bangtanintotheroom and @herecomesjoon. Thanks to them for helping me brainstorm! 💜

Unbeta'd as usual.

Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕

Day 2 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 4

New Year’s Day is always rough, but it’s honestly one of your favorite days. It typically finds you sleeping until noon, waking with a hangover, and recuperating on your couch watching dumb movies while one of your two roommates makes you something greasy and delicious to help you recover.

The remnants of last night’s party are still strewn about your apartment, plastic cups and streamers everywhere. The place looks like a festive tornado swept through it. But you don’t care, draining the bowl of haejangguk that Yoongi made for you. Your other roommate Hoseok sighs happily as he puts down his spoon.

“We should probably start cleaning,” he says, eyeing the mess around you. Typical Hoseok. Not even a killer hangover could stop his neatfreak ways. Even though you’d watched him drink his body weight in liquor last night, he looks remarkably refreshed, nary a dark circle under his eyes as he runs his fingers through his platinum blonde hair.

You groan, taking the empty bowls from your roommates and carrying them into the kitchen. “Please. Not now, Hobi. I’m still feeling all those shots from last night.” You dig through the fridge, hoping to find a sports drink hidden somewhere, but all you find is soju, and a giant bowl of eggnog. “Fuck, we didn’t finish the nog last night? There’s so much left.”

Yoongi pads into the kitchen. Unlike Hoseok, he looks sleepy, but that’s just his normal countenance. His dark hair curls over his ears, brushing his shoulders as he joins you at the fridge. “You know, we can solve those two problems at once.”

“Huh?”

He gestures to the eggnog. Then he wanders over to the counter where various bottles of liquor are still arranged from last night. He picks up a bottle of whisky.

“Bring me that bowl.”

It’s not a great idea, but it’s also not the worst, you conclude ten minutes later, sipping on a glass of spiked eggnog. Why not indulge in a little hair of the dog to get rid of your hangover? The bowl sits on your living room table for easy refills. You’ve curled yourself into a ball on the couch again, feet pointing towards Yoongi, who lounges at the other end. Hoseok’s sitting in the worn-out armchair the three of you found at a secondhand shop, legs splayed comfortably.

“How long is this stuff good for?” he asks, swirling his cup a little.

Yoongi shrugs. “Probably not too long, so drink up.”

Hoseok frowns. “It’s not exactly chuggable.”

“Then don’t chug it,” Yoongi replies calmly, earning a scowl from Hoseok.

“How about we play a game?” you ask, wincing slightly as you take another sip. “Lord, Yoongi, did you have to put the whole bottle in there?”

His lips quirk in a quick smirk before he raises his glass in the air. “Never have I ever… hooked up with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.” Then he takes a sip.

“Oh, I guess we’re playing already,” Hoseok says, also lifting his cup to his lips.

You keep your cup lowered. “Yoongi, the point is to make others drink, not yourself.”

His eyes glimmer. “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

“Me next,” Hoseok purses his lips. “Um, never have I ever… uh… kissed someone under the mistletoe.”

All three of you drink.

“Okay, I guess we’re doing a holiday theme, so… never have I ever gone to Christmas dinner with my family while completely stoned.”

Hoseok drinks while you grin. He rolls his eyes. “Laugh if you want, but it was the only way to survive. Anyway… never have I ever given a mall Santa a blow job.”

Yoongi takes another sip.

“Seriously?” you squeak.

He shrugs. “I liked his beard. And I told you that in confidence,” he points at Hoseok, as the blonde man’s honking laughter fills the room.

The game continues this way for a while, the three of you cashing in on the knowledge you’ve gained over your years of friendship to force one another to drink. As the bowl drains, the mood in the room gets sillier, the questions slide from holiday-themed to just generally explicit, and you start to wonder what will run out faster - the eggnog or the secrets you’ve kept tucked away about your roommates.

“Um…” you glance at the ceiling, slumped against the back of the couch, trying to think of another question. Yoongi has shifted as he’s grown drunk, sliding towards you so that his arm rests against yours, while Hoseok has turned sideways in his seat, his legs hanging over the arm. He’s currently staring at the wall, face redder than the Santa’s hat he wore last night. “Hobi. You good over there?”

He tilts his head slowly, like he’s really thinking about it. Then he favors you with one of his brightest smiles, the one that makes his eyes disappear. “Yes.”

You and Yoongi giggle, and Yoongi nudges you with his arm. “Come on, go.”

“Okay, okay. Never have I ever…” Your attention is diverted by the warmth of Yoongi’s hand, where it lightly traces wobbly circles on your thigh. It’s nothing new, the two of you cuddling on the couch like this. Both of your roommates are pretty touchy-feely and so are you. But the whisky and the game have fired up the horny part of your brain, and his touch is only adding fuel to the flames. Doesn’t help that you’ve always found him attractive. “Never have I said someone else’s name in bed.“

Hoseok drinks as Yoongi laughs.

“Look, it was an honest mistake - Soomin is really close to Sungmin!”

“Yeah, but Soomin’s brother was named Sungmin!” you shout. “She was sucking your dick and you called her by her brother’s name!”

Hoseok shrugs. “Well, maybe I had to think about him while she was doing that, because she was so shit at it. And he wasn’t.”

“Holy shit, Hobi,” you cackle, “you’re ice cold.” He just grins, shooting you a wink, and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Why must both of your roommates be so hot?

Yoongi’s up. “Never have I ever been fingered on the bus.”

You shoot him a glare before taking a drink.

“Whoa, public fingerbang?” Hoseok’s eyes widen. He slips out of his chair, crawling towards the table to refill his drink. “I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist.”

“I’m not. Not really. I mean, sometimes things just kinda… happen… you know?” You set your glass on the table. “Did one of you crank the heat up? It’s really warm in here.” Tugging your hoodie off, you toss it on the back of the couch.

“It’s not warm, you’re just drunk,” Yoongi informs you.

“‘M not drunk, I’m pleasantly tipsy,” you state. You’re also losing your mind a bit now that Yoongi has switched things up, raking his fingernails down your thigh instead of lightly drawing shapes.

Hoseok, still on the floor, has also noticed the motion, his gaze fixed on Yoongi’s hand. His eyes bounce between the two of you for a moment before he speaks. “Never have I ever messed around with a roommate.”

Furtive glances fly around the room. No one drinks.

The drunken giddiness that once permeated the room is gone now. Instead, the air feels thick, almost hazy with a strange kind of frustration. You didn’t really notice it building until now, but it’s almost unmistakable.

You bite your lip, wondering if your next question is too much, asking it anyway. “Never have I ever masturbated while thinking about a roommate.”

All three of you drink.

Yoongi keeps the rim of his glass pressed to his lips, looking deep in thought as he ponders his next question. “Never have I ever wished a roommate would catch me masturbating.”

There’s a slight pause, and then you all drink. As if a switch has been thrown, the game speeds up, questions flying faster and faster.

“Never have I ever wanted to go down on a roommate.” Everyone drinks.

“Never have I ever wanted a roommate to go down on me.” Everyone drinks.

Yoongi, then Hoseok, then you. Each of you asking questions that are no longer pointed scenarios meant to make each other drink, but thinly veiled wishes coming to light. And every sip reveals that these wishes, these desires, are shared.

Hoseok slides around the table as the rounds continue rapid-fire, until he’s close enough to brush his hand against your bare leg. Between his fingers dancing up your calf, and Yoongi’s hand squeezing above your knee, you feel like your body is on fire.

“Never have I ever wanted to fuck a roommate,” Yoongi rasps, voice pitching low. Everyone drinks.

Hoseok’s fingers lock around your ankle. “Never have I ever wanted to get fucked by a roommate.”

Again, everyone drinks. You can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, never have I ever wanted a roommate to kiss me,” you say, your words breaking as your question becomes a plea. Thankfully, Yoongi recognizes this, and he cups the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss.

You suck the whisky from his tongue as he plunges it between your lips. A groan sounds from deep in your throat. The hand not holding your head has now run beneath your shirt, blazing a path directly for your breast.

Hoseok hisses from the floor, gripping your ankle tightly enough to draw your attention. When you turn your head, he rises up on his knees to meet your lips. Where Yoongi’s kiss was deep and smooth, Hoseok’s is fiery and sharp, teeth biting as he slides his mouth down to your neck.

“Never have I ever wanted a roommate to choke me,” Yoongi husks, and Hoseok pulls away from your throat to stare at Yoongi as Yoongi grabs his glass to take a sip.

“Fuck, you’re into that?” you breathe, chest rising faster. Yoongi nods, and Hoseok straightens up, moving until he’s directly between the two of you on the couch.

Hoseok holds up his glass. “Never have I ever choked a roommate,” he smirks, tossing back the last of his drink.

The two men stare at each other. The tension between them makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Then they both lean forward, moving as if one until their mouths crash together. Yoongi whimpers when Hoseok’s fingers lace into his long locks, tugging to make Yoongi tip his head back, exposing his throat.

As Hoseok’s fingers wrap around Yoongi’s neck, you snatch up your glass and raise it over your head in a cheers to yourself. “Never have I ever watched my roommate choke my other roommate.” And you take a swig.

Yoongi’s hips buck upwards as Hoseok begins to squeeze, and your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his pants. Experimentally, not wanting to interrupt the frenzied kissing happening in front of you, you trail your hand along Yoongi’s thigh, close to but not touching his dick. He immediately jerks to the right, trying to thrust his hard-on into your outstretched palm.

Hoseok finally stops trying to swallow Yoongi’s tongue and lifts his head. His fingers relax a little. “Want more?” he asks the other man.

“Yes,” Yoongi exhales, voice barely a croak, and his eyes dart to you. “Touch me, please,” he moans, and then he curls his fingers into Hoseok’s shirt, yanking the man towards him for another kiss.

You quickly free his dick from his pants. He’s so warm in your spit-soaked hand, cock practically throbbing under your fingers as you start to stroke him. His hips jolt upwards when you tease the sensitive skin at the head of his dick, and he whines into Hoseok’s mouth, who groans in reply.

“Fuck, you two are so hot,” you mutter.

Hoseok’s fingers are once again digging into Yoongi’s throat, cutting off the man’s air, and Yoongi starts rutting into your hand faster than you’re jerking him off, so instead of you giving him a hand job he’s basically using your hand as a sex toy, and the thought of him using you in any way has you panting, thighs squeezing together in desperation. Hoseok notices your needy shuffling and he rolls his lips up Yoongi’s cheek to speak.

“Shit, you enjoying the show?” His darkened eyes and cocky grin sends a fresh wave of desire dripping out of you. “You’re next. If you want.”

“I want,” you mewl. “Fuck, I want!” You don’t even know what it is he means, making out or choking or more than that, but you want it anyway.

“Good.” The fingers twisted into Yoongi’s hair flex, tipping his head so Yoongi is forced to look Hoseok directly in the eye. “Just gotta get our boy here to come, and then it’ll be your turn. I bet he can’t wait to watch you come. Isn’t that right?”

Yoongi moans at Hoseok’s question. So do you. Hoseok grins, tightening his hand again. You surge forward and press your lips to Yoongi’s. You can feel his hand groping at your breast again as you lick into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Hoseok gives one last hard press.

When he releases his hold, Yoongi falls apart. His spray coats your hand, dripping thick and hot down your fingers while you stroke him through his orgasm. It’s not until his hips go still again that you stop.

Yoongi gasps as air rushes back into his lungs. “Oh shit!” He collapses against the armrest, breathing heavily. Hoseok sits back on his heels, looking quite pleased with himself.

Your hand is still coated in Yoongi’s release, another mess you should clean up, but again you don’t care. “Now what?” you ask your roommates impatiently.

Yoongi grins, reaching for his glass. “Never have I ever watched my roommates fuck.”

He takes a sip.

Masterlist ❄️ Find me on AO3 ❄️

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#jhs:fic #jhs:pwp #jhs:smut #jhs:explicit #jhs:oneshot #jhs:f2l #jhs:roommates #jhs:3some #myg:fic #myg:smut #myg:pwp #myg:explicit #myg:oneshot #myg:f2l #myg:roommates #myg:3some #luareads #jhs:holiday #myg:holiday

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luaspersona · 2 years ago

Note

jade *sighs* why you out there trying to kill me *sobs* what have i ever done to you (let’s forget i was the one asking for dis)

i just wanna start this review by saying that i wasn’t able to wait until i got home and i read this on the bus lol. two things: i might have cried a little. maybe it wasn’t the best choice. i swear to god your writing just gets better and better, and this one might be my favorite one of yours yet.

i just dkfskjdkjsdh 🔪😠 fucking love the way you write hobi. all your hobi fics are just ridiculously flawless and the ANGST ON THIS ONE HAD ME LIKE

but let’s organize this review ok, i wanna start by pointing out some of my favorite sentences of yours. some because if i were to point all of them, i’d quote the whole fic. but i’ll have you know that this review is simple??? idk, i wasn’t able to synapse so much ig lol, i’m tired

first, i dont really know why, but i loved the first line

There’s a decommissioned junkyard outside of town.

i just felt like it was such a charming way to introduce the story lol, especially with this addition:

It’s desolate and depressing, but despite all that, it’s a sanctuary.

to have a sanctuary in a junkyard… i don’t know, i just love the setting so much 😭 it did remind me of romeo + juliet movie too.

also the way you hint to their situation here:

You’d spent more time there lately than you’d ever be free to admit.

god, that’s such good wording. how do you think of these istg 😭 also, again, her pessimism here is just soul crushing.

the reader felt like someone growing apathetic — or at least trying to – towards the whole situation. and i also think this is my favorite reader of yours, cus her voice is so interesting!! it’s very interesting the way everything feels depressing until hobi arrives. and moments like this:

It loses more and more of its smoothness the longer it sits out, exposed to the elements, but then again, so do you.

that suggests, that it gives us a glimpse of how much the reader must’ve been through and how much she’s losing her innocence (as in, hope) throughout all this.

and even if you never really explicitly say what has happened and we’re just getting a day — or rather, some hours into their lives, parts like this make everything feel so tangible, so real: you build this scenario, this world in such a palpable way:

You hear him before you see him, but that’s purposeful. Hoseok kills the headlamp on his motorcycle before he comes anywhere near the junkyard — just in case, baby.

and returning to the idea that everything feels depressing until hobi, the way you make the first time the reader sees him be under the light too:

Still, when he finally steps under the yellow glow of the street lamp — your only source of light, save for the moon — and he’s all you see.

and the ANGST 😭😭😭😭😭:

He’s swallowing words, based on the blatant twitch of his jaw. Always clenched to keep from calling out to you, as if the abandoned area wasn’t chosen for its ability to keep your secrets.

the idea of not being able to love out loud is so heartbreaking and you captured it so well.

and this here:

The distance at which his limited words keep you is contrary to the way he holds you — close to the chest like your feelings are as fleeting as moments like this, gently as if you’ll break apart in his hands.

i don’t even have anything to say about it, just fucking perfect writing that speaks for itself. and on that note, this sentence broke me so much:

There’s enough fondness in his eyes to drown in and you would, in a heartbeat, if time was ever on your side.

i mean, what were you THINKING, this is a masterpiece:

A little constellation, guiding you North from your southside trap to a home you can’t have.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN I CAN’T—

“I didn’t have a choice and I never will.”

YES HE WILL WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE

also,

Hoseok’s mouth pulls up slightly at one corner; and you know what that looks means. It means twenty minutes down the drain, shaking a tail before he can make his way to you. It means that, next time, you may need to find a different hiding spot.

this paragraph specifically made me love them so much. how much they go through just to get a glimpse of each other 💔😠

You don’t normally say the obvious out loud, but reality doesn’t always stay in the cage you try to lock it in. “We’re playing with fire.” “In another life,” Hoseok replies wistfully while his fingernails scratch — affectionately, teasingly, cautiously — down the expanse of your bare thigh. “We were arsonists.”

*jungkook festa voice* i’m upset *pout* i’m so upset

this was such a good dialogue i don’t HAVE WORDS, JUST FEELINGS

No longer in a junkyard on the outskirts of town, no longer on opposite sides of a line in the dirt, no longer trying to shove flowers into the front of a shotgun.

It’s enough, you think again, like repetition will make it true.

i was dying, but this line reminded me of this meme:

you’re so mean to me, what have i ever done to make you wanna make me cry like dat istg, this had my heart tightening in my chest, i was so desperate i was horny and crying, and the fact he notices she was about to cry i mean—

Hoseok notices your rapid blinking when you settle down on him. He knows without having to ask, kisses you through an ache that isn’t physical at all. It, like him, stays where it’s kept: in the left side of your rib cage.

you’re such a poetic writer too. i mean, you always write within some word limit for these requests and you’re always to deliver the most, the best, in such a small wc. and it’s due to sentences like this one.

and when SHE CRIES, GOD I WAS CRYING TOO:

Spent in every way that matters, you can’t fight off the sob that starts in the pits of your chest and crawls out of your mouth. The shiver down your spine can’t be blamed on the wind.

this is such a heartbreaking image, i was so gone.

and that’s why i’ll choose to ignore the last sentence ok. WHAT ACTUALLY happened was that the gangs realized they are too in love and everything was well and they lived happily ever after, thank you very much.

~anyway

i always get impressed with your ability to set the tone. there wasn’t a single moment of fluff relief during this, i was alert the whole time, scared someone was gonna show up (I’M SO GLAD NO ONE DID HAHA), and their relationship felt so fragile. not in the sense that we doubt their love, but in the sense that it seems like it’s already in an afterlife, not really existing and just waiting for the inevitable end. actually, regarding their bond… omg, they feel so in love that it hurts

also, your character’s voices are always so well flashed out. their feelings towards one another, their apprehension, and we can clearly see that their current situation and dynamic is a result of a long time sneaking like this — the hopelessness, the emptiness, the routine that feels overbearing… UGH idk, jade. this took me by surprise cus i definitely wasn’t expecting it when i requested this. it exceeded all my expectations, as your writing always does, and now i’ll just go cry in the corner.

CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE BABY, here have some flowers 💐

here i come with a humble request 🫡

i was thinking of a hobi + secret relationship trope... maybe smutty too if you're up for it lol 👉🏽👈🏽

can't wait for the drabbles you're gonna write omg 😭🤲🏽

what lua wants, lua gets 🫡 tbh i think this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written, so tysm for unwittingly setting that stage 🫣

the one where hoseok plays with fire

pairing: degenerate!hoseok x afab!reader type: (d) angst, smut (18+) | wc: 1.6k au: secret/forbidden relationship, rival gangs, romeo & juliet kinda vibes 🤫 cw: acknowledgement of membership in street gangs but just to explain the dynamic (no depictions of gang activity); minor threat (not the band, just the potential consequences of their actions); public (ish?) sex; unprotected p in v penetration; not much in the way of foreplay because i’m operating under a word limit, lol; biting, a lil bit; gratuitous imagery of hoseok wearing chains 🫣 a/n: this popped into my head while listening to $20 by boygenius on reeeeepeeeeaaaaat. def check out this song (and the record!) there’s a direct quote from the song in the dialogue, btw. credit for that bolded bit goes to julien thee baker.

There’s a decommissioned junkyard outside of town. It sits within a constellation of run-down warehouses and empty parking lots, and has a gravitational pull all its own. Finding it doesn’t take much, just fifteen minutes on the expressway, two turns at perpetually-blinking traffic lights, and a specific strain of desperation not many will ever know the likes of. It’s desolate and depressing, but despite all that, it’s a sanctuary.

A hill to die on.

You’d spent more time there lately than you’d ever be free to admit. A veritable coffee stain on a map, you’re not sure that its existence on that side street was anyone’s conscious decision. Likewise, you can’t say for certain that the drop of its name would mean anything to anyone. It means everything to you, however, so asking after recognition isn’t a risk you’re willing to take.

You’re risking enough as it is.

As is usually the case, you’re the first to arrive. When you do, you ignore the dirt that kicks up with every step and swirls around your bare ankles; and you keep walking until you reach your usual perch. The bare-bones, American-made t-top sits where it seemingly always has: on cinder blocks. It’s older than you by thirty years or so, but it groans with vigor when you grip hard to the frame, slide your foot over the exposed wheel hub, and hoist yourself onto the hood.

The bare skin on the back of your thighs is chilled instantly by the paint-chipped metal below you. It loses more and more of its smoothness the longer it sits out, exposed to the elements, but then again, so do you. Maybe that’s why this spot is a hard-fought favorite of yours.

Your crows’ nest, your perfect vantage point. A place to sit and play look-out while your eager eyes scan the driveway ahead.

You hear him before you see him, but that’s purposeful. Hoseok kills the headlamp on his motorcycle before he comes anywhere near the junkyard — just in case, baby. The rumble of his four-stroke engine is one you can feel in your stomach long after he shuts it off. Even when he parks that pristine, second-hand Hyosung somewhere only he’d be able to find it again. Still, when he finally steps under the yellow glow of the street lamp — your only source of light, save for the moon — and he’s all you see.

Hoseok keeps his pace casual as he makes his way to you, but his anticipation is visible in his posture. He’s swallowing words, based on the blatant twitch of his jaw. Always clenched to keep from calling out to you, as if the abandoned area wasn’t chosen for its ability to keep your secrets.

With much more ease than you, he jumps and pulls himself up to the car hood to meet you. The metal creaks under the weight of his body, but when it hovers over you, it’s a sigh of relief. A millisecond can’t pass by before he cages your head in between his arms — palms pressed against the dusty windshield — and swoops down to capture your kiss.

“Missed you,” he mumbles against your lips. His tone is low, hushed, and yet still sandpaper-course in a way that screams I mean it. The distance at which his limited words keep you is contrary to the way he holds you — close to the chest like your feelings are as fleeting as moments like this, gently as if you’ll break apart in his hands.

Like he loves you.

Your fingers instinctively thread themselves in his wind-swept hair — no helmet, no surprise there — and now it’s his turn to sigh. Hoseok tries to pull away, likely to gaze at you the way he always wants to, but you claim his bottom lip between your teeth and refuse to let him — this — go.

It sounds so silly without full use of his mouth:

“Baby,” he warns.

You release him with a smirk, brushing the tip of your nose against his. There’s enough fondness in his eyes to drown in and you would, in a heartbeat, if time was ever on your side.

“Good girl.”

The delicate, cuban-link chain around his neck glints in the half-light. Little slivers of silver dance across your own collarbone as it sways in the space between your bodies. A little constellation, guiding you North from your southside trap to a home you can’t have.

You, who can never seem to leave well-enough alone, run the thin, interlocking rectangles between the tips of your thumb and middle finger. You know you shouldn’t, but you pout, “You’re late.”

Hoseok’s expression says more than he does. You hear, “I know,” but you see, “I didn’t have a choice and I never will.”

He grunts when he sits up onto his knees. Wordlessly, he spills over your side and collects into a puddle in the space next to you. Once he settles, he stares up at the sky. You know he’s focused on something even further away.

“Did someone follow?” You ask gently.

Hand slipping easily into his, your fingers interlock. Links in a chain. Never an accessory to be worn in public.

The arm furthest from yours is draped over his abdomen. He moves it, and you move to hover in the space he’s cleared for you. Anchored with your knees on either side of his hips, you cup his jaw with the hand not holding his. For you, he lets himself soften, leans into the warmth of your palm.

You don’t normally say the obvious out loud, but reality doesn’t always stay in the cage you try to lock it in. “We’re playing with fire.”

“In another life,” Hoseok replies wistfully while his fingernails scratch — affectionately, teasingly, cautiously — down the expanse of your bare thigh. “We were arsonists.”

When he kisses you a second time, it’s enough for you to forget where you are. No longer in a junkyard on the outskirts of town, no longer on opposite sides of a line in the dirt, no longer trying to shove flowers into the front of a shotgun.

It’s enough.

It’s routine. You hike up the hem of your dress while he unzips his black jeans. Those are pushed down while your thong is pushed to the side; and so is the thought that this is the most of him you can have. You don’t get all of him, can’t lave your needy tongue over all of him, because it’s not safe to love him with all the layers cast aside. It’s practical, promotes a quick getaway in the event one is needed.

It’s enough, you think again, like repetition will make it true.

It’s perfect. Both of you keen when he enters you. Your thighs tremble; your walls grip him tight as they reacclimate to the stretch his cock demands. Hoseok notices your rapid blinking when you settle down on him. He knows without having to ask, kisses you through an ache that isn’t physical at all. It, like him, stays where it’s kept: in the left side of your rib cage.

“Shit,” he grunts. “Feel so perfect, baby — fuck.”

You roll your hips against him, taking him all the way and dragging the curve of his cock over that secret spot inside you. Aren’t they all? His fingernails leave impermanent, crescent indents in your thighs. You try not to care that the moon looming overhead is unapologetically full — and present every night.

There’s a newfound desperation in the way Hoseok clings to you. He digs the heels of his boots into the Stringray’s hood, hands pulling you down onto his cock while he fucks upwards into you. It drives him insane when you swirl your hips with him buried inside you, so you do, smirking like the devil.

You burrow into his neck to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses on any hint of skin you find. As you do, your fingers return to his hair and tie themselves off. If you chain yourself to him this way, maybe you can stay this way.

A quick nip at his neck unearths a groan that makes your cunt flutter around him. Tragically, no sign of you or your teeth is left behind on the side of his throat. Still, you kiss it better, whispering, “Could fuck you like this forever, baby.”

“Oh, my love,” his breath is hot against your ear when he chuckles darkly, “You hear the way your pussy is gushing all over my cock? You won’t last forever.”

His thrusts deepen. Hoseok is dead-set on unraveling you, thread by thread.

“In fact —”

Your teeth pinch his lobe. Hoseok snaps his hips forcefully in response, and your gasp echoes over the rusted squeak of a worn-out suspension. It briefly overpowers the muted slap of his pelvis colliding with the underside of your thighs. It doesn’t compare with his breathless laugh, though, not by a long-shot.

“Little vampire,” he chides you with a grin that takes effort. You mewl when his fingertips press bruises into the flesh of your ass. “Don’t think you’ll last another minute.”

Hoseok is a lot of things; and while frustrating is one of them, wrong rarely is.

It’s white hot, the uncontrolled pleasure burning through your core, and your vision matches when your wildfire orgasm ignites. Fingers searching for purchase grip tight to his jacket. Your heavy head dips forward as you cry out. Like always, you fall apart at the seams over him.

Slumped against him, he envelopes you in his arms as he fucks straight through your high and into his. Spent in every way that matters, you can’t fight off the sob that starts in the pits of your chest and crawls out of your mouth. The shiver down your spine can’t be blamed on the wind.

“Hey,” Hoseok murmurs, petal soft, “Baby, no, don’t cry.”

He takes your face in your hands and leaves you no choice but to look at him. With concern wearing creases into his forehead, he smatters kisses on every part of your crestfallen face. He whispers promises between each as he goes.

It’s okay — We’ll figure this out — I love you — We’ll be alright, you and me — I love you.

And even if it’s not all true, it’s enough.

Enough to keep you going.

Enough to glue your broken pieces back together.

Enough to keep you both from noticing the faint hum of an engine in the driveway.

#jhs:fic #jhs:angst #jhs:smut #jhs:explicit #jhs:drabble #jhs:secret #jhs:crime #jhs:est #luareads

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