BTS FILES @btsfiles - Tumblr Blog

Feb 3

Take It Out On Me (M) [FINAL]

Summary: Yoongi/Reader/Hoseok. When your boyfriend neglects you one too many times, the only thing left for you to do is run to his best friend for comfort. Genre: Angst/Smut Warnings: Cheating Words: 7,191 A/N: And here is the final part - years later! I wrote most of this back in 2017, and only now was I able to finish it. Now that I'm settled in my life, BTS has also made its way back into it. I'm hoping you all enjoy!

PART 1 / PART 2 / FINAL PART

You learned some new things in the span of the two weeks that lead up to Yoongi’s birthday: you’re not as hard-headed as you think, forgiving Yoongi the moment you talked to him face-to-face after a night of fighting; Namjoon isn’t as selfish either, offering to buy you a plane ticket to Busan in hopes you’ll join him and Yoongi as a friendly peace-offering (you refuse anyway because you knew it was more out of guilt rather than interest); and more importantly, Hoseok has nearly perfected the skill of being a two-faced liar.

Not quite perfected because you’ve caught him in the act in the midst of driving as a group to the airport to bid farewell to your boyfriend and his musical partner, listening as he’s joyfully consumed in the mutual conversation one second and suddenly eyeing you with dark eyes and a shit-eating smirk in the rearview mirror the next.

Your mind would be laced in sin if you confessed you weren’t fearful Hoseok would spill the truth to Yoongi about what happened in your kitchen with his hand down the front of your pants that one, snowy night for Namjoon to hear at that exact moment, following how the both of you consumed far too much booze that you drunkenly lost count and gave up after the sixth. You’d also prefer to omit the memory when your bodies were intertwined with one another the moment you woke up the next morning, cuddling his torso comfortably under the warmth of a shared blanket on your living room couch while his slender fingers tangled through your hair.

Your spot in Hell is already reserved and waiting for you when the thought alone makes your heart flutter in a way that Yoongi could never.

————

Yoongi refuses to let you go – hugging you tightly in his arms with a type of security that makes you feel safe and at home – right before he and Namjoon are forced to enter security and wait for their flight to begin boarding, and he kisses your lips several times, ignoring his friends’ protests to hurry up because time is ticking when he knows matter-of-factly he’s going to miss them more than anything while he’s out on his own in another city.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he mumbles against your hair, and his voice cracks in an overwhelming sound of emotion that causes you to tighten your grip around his body. “I’ll call you every night, okay?”

You choke out a laugh at his words, following a groan of defeat when you attempt to pull away only to be brought closer in a grip that could suffocate you against the nylon of his jacket. “It’s only for a week,” you tell him.

“I know,” Yoongi admits, and he kisses the top of your head one last time before listening to your previous, silent requests of loosening his embrace so you can fall back into the open. “It’s just–“

His words seem to falter into the unknown, cutting his wordsshort to stare at you with a soft sparkle in his onyx eyes, and the corners of your mouth automatically sink into a frown. Yoongi didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to realize that the two of you haven’t been apart from each other for so long, in addition to over three hundred kilometers in between. It’s strange, yet so depressing all at the same time.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassure him with sincerity in your voice, and you mean it. “Don’t worry about me, and go have fun!”

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak more, but Namjoon’s voice seems to overpower the silence instead, interjecting with a loud voice that has Yoongi clenching his jaw, infuriated that he had just ruined the mood. “We need to go, man! It’s almost boarding time,” he exclaims, and you peer over to see him pointing at the screen of departing flights.

You send him off with a final peck on the lips, exchanging a quick set of ‘I love you’s’ to one another before finally ushering for him to hurry up and leave because you didn’t want him to miss his plane and face the wrath of Namjoon when you weren’t looking. Hoseok is right there beside you, waving excitedly to his friends and wishing them well on their trip together.

“You better take care of her, Hobi!”

In the midst of the frequent chatter surrounding you, Hoseok nudges you with his elbow, a playful grin tugging at his lips when he drops his head lower to yours so he can mutter in your ear. Just as Yoongi’s small figure disappears behind the doors of security and blurred out glass of privacy, he begins to speak.“You heard him, yeah?”

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to prevent a wicked grin from plastering on your face.

It’s funny, you think. Yoongi texted you as soon as he arrived in Busan – which had been an approximate one hour and thirty-five minutes prior to dropping them off at the airport – then that was it. No texts, no calls, no Snapchats, no social media updates, no nothing. It had been a whopping nine hours since then, and you were starting to get suspicious. You understand that he and Namjoon could be settling into their hotel, perhaps even grabbing a bite to eat, but nine hours? And nothing? Your jaw tenses, evil thoughts lacing through your already infected mind. No, something about this was too fishy.

Again, it’s funny. Your first reaction is to phone Hoseok, his contact information already on the bright screen of your iPhone, only one tap away ready to be dialed. He had dropped you off back to Yoongi and yours’ shared apartment before taking off back to his own. Nothing had happened – you’re unsure if you’re grateful or not – except for the innocent requests to text one other later.

So, you sit on the couch eagerly, one leg crossed over the other, and your phone to your ear. You listen to it ring, a lump in your throat. The silence surrounding you is deafening, and the ringing in your ear dragged on forever. What if he doesn’t pick up? What if he has plans? What if he’s out with a girl right now?

A mere second later, there’s an answer. “Hey.”

“Hoseok, hey,” you greet quickly before you could lose a nerve or two. “Have you heard from Yoongi at all?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can only think the worst. He’s hesitating for a reason because he knows something. All your worst fears about Yoongi were coming true – he’s out partying and hooking up with other women – as if you had forgotten all the things you’ve been doing. You push the thought out of your mind with the shake of your head. You really don’t need this right now. Then, finally, a response. “Nah.”

You’re left dumbfounded at his reply, and you begin picking at a hang-nail as if the pain is supposed to help stop you from losing your mind. It was much too late at this point.

“What about Namjoon?” You ask nervously.

“No,” Hoseok said.

And your stomach drops. “Really?”

“I know you might be thinking the worst right now, but–”

“But what?” You relent, and you break off the dreaded hang-nail from your finger, and it starts to bleed. A metaphor of your life as you slowly feel like you’re reaching your long-awaited breaking point. “I can’t help but feel– I don’t know, shitty because we’re messing around behind Yoongi’s back, but as soon as he does it to me, I’m–“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” If you could see Hoseok right now, you’d imagine that his eyes were wide and he’d nearly be jumping out of his seat to calm you down. “Yoongi is his own person, and you’re your own. Just like me. If you’re worried about him then I suggest you take a deep breath, and relax. He’s probably out sight-seeing. Do you want me to come over?”

You hesitate too long, at a loss for words. Sight-seeing at seven in the evening? A possibility. Then, through the silence between you and Hoseok, you hear a familiar beeping through the speaker of your phone before removing the device from your ear and into your line of view. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest when you realize Yoongi is trying to call you.

“Hold on a second,” you tell Hoseok, and you don’t care for his response before putting him on hold. It’s almost instantly you answer your boyfriend’s call, eagerly ready to ask where the hell he’s been, “Yoongi?”

The noise in the background has you fuming, and if life were a cartoon, the smoke would be spewing from your ears. There’s loud music, people shouting, and he’s drunk. “Babe! Hi!”

There’s a conflict in your mind, and you wonder if you have a right to be angry when you’ve been fooling around with Hoseok on and off for the past month. Yoongi’s just at a night-club, drunk, and seemingly had the nerve to ghost you all day. If anybody should be mad, it’s him.

“Why haven’t you called or texted?” You demand. You tried fighting off the anger, but it was already up in the air. “I’ve been waiting for you all day!”

The music is thumping in the back, and you can’t help but wonder if Yoongi’s sitting with a bunch of girls who are much prettier and slimmer than you or if he’s bought them drinks and given them his number.

“Huh!? You haven’t texted me! Why the fuck should I always have to initiate everything?” Yoongi continues, and the anger in his voice has your stomach dropping, pulling the phone away from your ear because his yelling was too loud and fearful. “You said it yourself, you’ve been doing nothing all day, so your lazy ass could’ve fucking done something about it!”

Hurt passes through your body – Yoongi only talked like this when he drank brown liquor. He had exploded like a volcano, completely out of nowhere, and now the tears are rolling down your cheeks. You clearly have nothing to say, and the tiniest sniffle erupts from your nose.

“Oh, so now you’re crying?” Yoongi laughs. “I do everything for you, and all you ever do is get mad. Namjoon was right, and this trip to Busan is what I needed to get away from you.”

The hand that’s placed in your lap is curled now, squeezing every last bit of your might into your leg. You don’t even feel yourself shaking because your whole body is numb. Is this his way of initiating a break-up? Because you’re considering it quite wholly at this point. You honestly can’t see yourself forgiving him for this, can you?

Can you?

The two words chant in your mind, asking yourself the same question over and over again because you’ve fucked up too much to move forward.

Can you?

No, you can’t. So, you close your eyes and breathe out. “Fuck you. Don’t ever contact me again.” His side of the line goes dead, and you wipe your pathetic tears. Hoseok was still waiting, so there’s nothing left to do but take back his hold. “Hoseok.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Do you want to go out tonight?”

He was quiet on the other end. So quiet you begin to second guess yourself and think that this might be a bad idea after all. Then, finally, there’s a response. “Where?”

“I don’t know…” You trail off, thinking quickly. Ever since getting with Yoongi, the club wasn’t somewhere you frequented anymore. Whether it was out of respect for your relationship status or just out of pure disinterest - you weren’t sure. But now? You needed it, and badly. “There’s this new club downtown: Diablo?”

“Oh, yeah, that place!” Hoseok sounds excited. “You want to go? Let’s go.”

It’s no questions asked with him, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. You were still trembling on the couch from the aftermath with Yoongi, but the fact he didn’t even attempt to text you or phone you back…your decision was set in stone. If he didn’t care, well, then neither did you.

There’s some rustling on the other end of the phone, and Hoseok is getting up from his spot on the couch. “I’ll drive to yours and we can go together,” he tells you.

You start to nod. “See you soon then.”

“See you soon.” Hoseok hung up.

And now you’re left staring at the wall, eyes wide, throwing your phone to the side of the cushion with a loud sigh. It was too late to go back now. Reality starts settling in and you make your way to your room to rummage through the closet for some going out clothes, pushing aside Yoongi’s shirts. The dress you wore the night Yoongi ditched you on Valentine’s Day is there, hanging nicely, but all it does is haunt you with what you had done - had started - with Hoseok. You push the memory away and shake your head. Fuck Yoongi. But wait, are you two even still together? Was that phone call really the end? You bite your bottom lip and wonder. This was just another silly fight, right..?

The mental conversation you have with yourself disappears when you finally find the shirt you were looking for. A black tube top to go with a matching black mini skirt. You can’t remember the last time you wore it, but you dress quickly and pull out your knee-high, platform boots, and lastly, a leather jacket. You don’t spend too much time on your hair, instead, you pour the time into your makeup. You gloss your lips, line your eyes with a liner and smoky shadow, and glue on lashes.

You take a look in the mirror. Your outfit was short and it was sexy, hugging your curves perfectly while keeping the important stuff strictly to imagination. It was the ideal outfit for the club, and you were ready to have fun. You put on your boots, zip them up, and smooth out your shirt before admiring yourself one last time. You grab a purse hanging from the closet door, throwing your essentials into it, before hearing a soft knock at your door.

Your heart skips a beat excitedly. Hoseok was here. The two of you are going out - as friends - to a hot, new nightclub that’s going to be packed with strangers. Club nightlife doesn’t know you, so this was your chance to finally be free. Yoongi is doing exactly the same with Namjoon, so it’s only fair that it’s your turn.

Hoseok is standing on the other side of the door as soon as you open it. He had put some effort into looking nice, but not too much. He’s wearing khaki’s and a black, silk, button up shirt, but the first two buttons are undone, and his hair is style with a side part, bangs covering each side of his forehead. His collarbones peek through the gap of his unbuttoned shirt, and a silver necklace sparkles under the brightly lit hallway. Your eyes drag from the necklace to his pale skin, only to realize he’s doing the same to you.

“Do I look okay?” You ask nervously. Maybe the skirt was a little too short after all. You did gain a couple pounds since you last wore it. “I wasn’t too sure what to wear.”

“No,” Hoseok says, and your stomach drops. You frown, but there’s a grin plastered across his face. “You look gorgeous. I might have to make sure no one is trying to steal you from me all night.”

You blush and suddenly you’re flustered, standing awkwardly at the door with Hoseok hovering over you. You shyly tell him thank you, but it’s moments like these that make you forget Yoongi, or perhaps, remembered him. Yoongi couldn’t possibly ever think you were unhappy with him, ever kiss his best friend, or ever cheat for that matter. Your throat closes up and you have to swallow it away. The thought of going out with Hoseok made your body tingle, but the shame was still there. You shouldn’t be doing this. Doing this with his best friend.

“Did Yoongi do something?”

Your teeth snapped together, bringing you back to the scene in front of you. Speak of the Devil. “Yes,” you mutter. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hoseok nods, not wanting to push you any further. He figured it must have been really bad for you to react this way, despite it all. “Alright. I’ll get the Uber now.”

—-

Diablo is hopping by the time the two of you get dropped off, and it wasn’t even midnight yet. The line wrapped around the building, people trickled out onto the street, and loud chatter and thumping bass filled the cool, March air. Your hands begin to sweat. What were you thinking? What if you run into people you know, and they see you with a man who isn’t Yoongi?

“Looks busy, yeah?” Hoseok’s excitement breaks your train of thought as the two of you walk onto the sidewalk and towards the venue. The club is pulsing with colorful lights, and the music is loud. “I know the guys up front, so we don’t need to line up.”

And he wasn’t wrong. Much to your surprise, all it took was a quick exchange of “how are you’s” and “nice to see you” followed by a complicated handshake exchange with a couple of guys you’ve never seen before, for the two of you to be ushered inside without issue.

God, you think to yourself. You hadn’t been to the club in so long. It’s dark and hot inside, musty with the smell of alcohol and sweat from all the dancing bodies. You scan the room as Hoseok says hello to the door girls working the coat check. A mass of people are on the dancefloor, grinding, twisting, stepping to the beat; the long bar is crowded with men and women ordering and downing shots, all yelling excitedly. There’s a nervousness in your chest, but it suddenly goes away when Hoseok places his hand on the small of your back, over your jacket.

“Do you want a drink?” He leaned into your ear to ask loud enough to be heard over the music. You turn to him, meet his gaze, and nod. Maybe some liquor would loosen you up. “Okay, let’s go.”

Hoseok leads you through the crowd and up to the bar. There’s a handful of bartenders working, so he catches their attention quite easily. Leaning over, Hoseok orders two Green Tea shots from one of them - your favorite. He passes you one, and you clink glasses.

“Cheers, Y/N!”

You both down your shots, and it’s beyond refreshing. The mix of whiskey, peach, and sour mix sting your tongue, and you can’t help but smack your lips together from the sweetness. “That was really good!”

“You want another?”

You nod again, smiling. And Hoseok smiles back, wider than yours. He was happy to be out with you, but that was for him to keep to himself. He continues to wave down a different bartender, ordering another round. Green tea shots weren’t enough to get either of you drunk, but it was a great start to the night. You “cheers” once more before taking your shots respectively, and slam the glasses back down to the marble counter.

“Let’s dance,” he says, and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he’s pulling you away from the bar and onto the dance floor.

It’s several degrees warmer with all the bodies moving and pressing against each other, even after Hoseok guides you to a small section on the outer edge where there was a bit more room to breathe, but enough to stand reasonably close to one another.

You start slow, feeling the beat of the music that pumps bass through your body. Hoseok was a dancer, a good one at that, so you felt a bit uneasy when all you could do was step back and forth. He watches you with a smile, encouraging you to let loose because tonight was your night. You hadn’t really been one to dance, especially not when people were looking. But it might’ve been the way Hoseok was egging you on, or the way he lit up when you stretched your arms above your head and gave in, or the way he snaked his arm around your waist, this time under your leather garment to pull you close. Suddenly, none of it mattered because no one was actually watching you. The club was packed and no one gave a fuck. It was loud, and the flashing lights were bright. Your hips swayed, your eyes closed, and you forgot all about Yoongi. Hoseok danced with you, matching your rhythm, and he too, forgot about Yoongi.

He spins you around so your back is against his chest, and his hands find yours, fingers intertwining gently. He’s graceful with you, and your head falls back into his shoulder. You move together, taking in the music and forgetting everything.

“Let’s get more shots,” Hoseok says to you suddenly, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed at him for ruining the vibe. The moment was just too good to stop.

“Sure,” you agree. “Let’s go.”

Again, he’s leading you to the bar, but now, his hand is holding yours tightly. He pushes through the crowd and towards the tiniest gap to order not two shots, but four this time. “Tequila!”

Seeing the four glasses of gold liquid and lime wedges on each cup made you gag, but you both down the shots anyway. Your throat and chest burn and you hate it. Now, yes now, the two of you were buzzed, if not already, drunk.

And shortly after, you’re back on the dance floor. Hoseok holds you close, your back facing him, and his hands are on your swaying hips to keep you steady. You melt into him as if he’s the only thing that mattered. You needed this, God, you needed to feel wanted for so long, and that’s exactly what Hoseok was doing. The way his fingers dug into your skin and how he played with the waistband of your skirt, toying with you. One thing you were good at was playing that game back, so you lace your fingers through his right hand, and guide it to the round of your ass instead. You swear you could’ve heard him inhale a sharp gasp in the midst of the loud music, but then, he squeezes. Hoseok tugs the hem of your already short skirt, realizing you’re wearing just a thong, so your skin is exposed for him to grab into his palm and all at once.

“Y/N…” He mumbles. “Don’t tease me.”

You grin, satisfied with yourself, your head falling back into him but still swaying to the music. The room was spinning and Hoseok was a blur to you. “Or what?”

The alcohol was definitely affecting your reaction time because you’re facing Hoseok now, not processing it quick enough that he grabbed you to turn you around. You stumble, but he holds you steady. Looking into his face, you’re somehow picturing Yoongi.

But when Hoseok cups your face with his hands and pulls you in for a breathless kiss, you suddenly forget, and you taste the lingering tequila in his mouth. Your arms wrap around his waist, naturally falling into him, eyes barely closing to shut out the crowd and lights around you. He’s taller than Yoongi by just a couple inches, leaner with toned out muscles, and it just felt better with him. The tiniest moan escapes your throat, knowing how real that truly felt.

“Let’s get out of here,” he pulls away from your messy kiss to say, and it isn’t a question or a suggestion. He needed you just as bad as you needed him, and you knew it. There was a jolting tingle between your thighs when he spoke again, “please.”

“Okay,” you agree.

Hoseok leads you out of the club and out the front doors. The cold air presses around your exposed skin, but it feels nice. You’re soaking in the fresh air like a sponge, realizing just how hot it really was inside Diablo. Hoseok doesn’t bother ordering an Uber, but rather hails a cab that was already parked on standby down the street. He opens the door for you, and the two of you trip into the backseat, falling over one another, before Hoseok is telling the driver his address. He turns to you, curious if that was fine or if you wanted to go home.

“We can go to yours,” you clarify the question away, and the two of you exchange a smile before locking hands with one another. Your heart flutters in your chest, desperately wanting to kiss him again, but the cab driver having a clear-as-day view of the two of you in the rear view mirror stopped your own torment.

You stare at Hoseok, looking like you’re about to speak, but you don’t, and that’s when you realize you hadn’t checked your phone all night. You break his gaze to do exactly that. It’s weird. You feel a wave of disappointment when you see no new notifications from Yoongi, specifically, staring at the brightness of your screen. Your other friends’ notifications were buried deep, but you didn’t bother to check those. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. You were disappointed, but not surprised. Hoseok notices, but doesn’t say a thing.

The ride is quick, and Hoseok hands the driver some cash and a small tip, without counting, before you’re both sliding out of the vehicle and running inside the foyer of Hoseok’s apartment building, avoiding the cold. You were giggling, fighting to stay aware of your surroundings. You almost forget you’re drunk out of your mind and that the night wasn’t over yet. It all starts to sink in as you wait for the elevator.

It’s almost awkward. What exactly was the plan when you got to Hoseok’s apartment? Sex, you think to yourself. Oh God, you’re about to have sex with Hoseok. Yoongi’s childhood friend, Hoseok. Oh, yeah, Yoongi.

“So…” Hoseok clears his throat, putting a halt to your inner dialogue. “Why don’t you end it?”

Your head snaps up and you stare at him, completely stricken. He’s busy looking at the digital screen of where the elevator is, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.

“I—“ You don’t know what to say. Because he’s right. Why don’t you end it with Yoongi? “I… don’t know.”

The elevator dings, and the door opens. No one is inside, so you step in at the same time. He presses the number ‘11’ before the doors slowly shut again, bringing you to his floor.

“I still love him,” you confess. “Even when he does stupid shit. He’s doing his best, and I want to be there to support him. Watch him become successful...”

“But, does he do the same for you?” Hoseok asks.

You struggle to put your feelings into words, and you stare at the ceiling, sighing loud enough to feel it in your chest. “I still love Yoongi,” you repeated, finally.

The elevator dings loudly, indicating the arrival of your stop on the eleventh floor. The doors open to the quiet, dimly lit, carpeted hallway with the repeated pattern of white doors, strangers living their own little lives behind each one.

Hoseok takes your hand and gently pulls you out of the elevator. His touch is warm against yours, and he doesn’t bring up Yoongi again. You walk to his apartment and watch him as he pulls out his key to unlock the door. You suddenly felt obligated to explain why you wanted to go out tonight, specifically with him. “Yoongi is an asshole.”

He lets you walk in first, watching you from behind as you throw your purse on the closest island counter. Your phone and something that looks like a lip gloss falls out, and Hoseok asks curiously, “What did he say?”

You’re unzipping your boots, kicking them off and finally shuffling over to one of his vacant bar stools as he locks the door behind him. You shrug off your jacket for the first time tonight, draping it on the stool you sat on. “He was like,” and you lower your voice to mock Yoongi’s, “‘You haven’t texted me all day, why the fuck should I initiate everything? Busan was to get away from you. I do everything for you and all you do is cry and get mad.’”

Hoseok purses his lips, and looks apologetic. He’s shocked at Yoongi’s behavior to say the least. He couldn’t understand why he would treat you in such a way. The way Yoongi’s words had been sharpened into weapons, thrown at you so carelessly, made something uneasy twist in Hoseok’s chest.

“You don’t deserve that,” he mutters, inching closer to you. And that’s when you feel his fingers brushing small strands of hair from out of your face, pushing them behind your ear. “Take it out on me.”

Unable to wait anymore, you crash your lips onto his and tangle your fingers through his hair, ruining how he styled it, and pull him closer to you to deepen the kiss until your tongues are intertwined with one another. He lifts you up from your seated position and he’s stumbling with you down the short hall and into his bedroom, lips never leaving each other. Although his apartment was dark, he knew it like the back of his hand.

You’re being lowered onto his bed and against the pillows. You curl your fingers through the hair at the nape of Hoseok’s neck, bringing him down to meet you, and he does. His hands slide to the sides of your skirt, pulling it down before you kick the fabric off and onto the floor. He hovers over you and your legs part easily, welcoming him between them. He does the same to your top as you lift your arms and pulls it off, ruining your already tangled hair. Now you’re left in just your underwear as you lay beneath him. Desperately, you push your hands up his shirt, feeling the planes of his abs.

You undo the few remaining buttons of his shirt and push the sleeves off his shoulders, down his arms. Sitting up slightly, you kiss his neck, pausing quick enough to suck on his earlobe. Hoseok fists his hand in your hair, tugging your head backwards to break the connection of your wet lips from his neck. You gasp sharply, and Hoseok takes advantage by lowering his head to your chest, kissing your breasts gently. You shiver, and your body becomes filled with goosebumps.

You fumble with his belt because you want to see as much of him as he could of you. It only seemed fair considering you hadn’t seen him yet, despite everything. You pull down his pants, and he helps you, kicking them down somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. You felt the evidence of him from underneath his boxers, and Hoseok moans when you run your palm against it. Your legs quiver in desperation and you grip him to give a hard stroke — you wanted him so bad, you felt like you needed it.

Hoseok’s free hand trails down your torso, and he grins. He finally presses a finger to your core, the fabric of your underwear already soaked, causing a raspy simulation. You whimper softly and your knees jolt. When he pushes aside your underwear and touches you directly, you thought you’d faint. You moan his name, or what might have been it.

Hoseok smirks and strokes you again, finger teasing your entrance, without penetrating.

“Please,” you whine. “Please, Hobi.”

His finger is long and rough inside of you, curling against the bundle of nerves that you thought only you knew about. You throw your head back, gasping as Hoseok slips a second finger inside. You were so wet for him; you should have been embarrassed, but you couldn’t find the will to care. Your entire body felt warm and excited for more.

“You like that?” Hoseok whispers suddenly.

“Yes.”

You force your eyes open and look at his face. He’s inches from you, lips perfectly parted as his tongue flashes slightly to wet them. You kiss him hungrily, clinging to his bare back. Your nails rake across his flesh, harder than you had intended, prying a hiss from his mouth.

“Sorry,” you apologize, breathless.

Hoseok shakes his head. “No, it feels good.”

You grip his shoulders tightly as he continues to rock his fingers into you, stretching you open. You can barely make out his silhouette in the darkness of his room, but you memorize his milky skin with your lips, kissing his shoulder, his neck; anything you could reach. He continues to press a thumb to your sweet spot that strikes electricity down your legs and to your toes.

You wanted to feel him. You needed more, so you pull down his boxers and grip his hard, velvet shaft, and he moans. The tips of your fingers barely touch as they wrap around him, and a shudder of heat washes through you at the thought of being filled by him. Hoseok was so big. Bigger than Y—

His mouth closes over yours and the swipe of his tongue melts your thoughts away. You dissolve into his kiss, moaning when his fingers curl deeper into you. Abruptly, he pulls away from you; his fingers and his lips breaking contact, and you gasp at the sudden loss of contact. He sweeps the last piece of fabric on your body down your legs, finally, and a nervous gust waves over you, forcing you to press your thighs together.

You watch as he shucks off his boxers, and opens the drawer of his nightstand, rifling through its contents before producing a small box of condoms. He dumps them out on the surface, seemingly struggling to grab one. He’s about to tear it open when he feels you watching him. Hesitating, he lowers himself back down to you, and your arms naturally trace his arms. Neither of you speak.

You grab the condom from his hand, open it yourself, and roll it down over him. Hoseok is big in your hand, thick at the base, and you stroke him, experimentally. You’re wet and inviting, but you aren’t sure. Your body is small and slender, but you want this. You want Hoseok, and you want to feel everything of him.

You part your legs again, and your lashes flutter shyly, whispering, “Hobi..”

Reading your mind, Hoseok carefully guides himself to your opening, and pushes in slowly. The stretch isn’t painful, but he fills you completely. You moan, loud, and you swear it echoes throughout his apartment. Your nails scratch into his back again as he sheathes himself inside. Once he’s as far in you as he can go, he settles and simply lets you feel everything for just a moment. Your muscles clench around him, sending an overload of pleasure through your body. You’ve never felt so full, and you loved it.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out.

Impossibly slowly, Hoseok pulls himself backwards and pushes back inside. Though you felt overstretched, the satisfaction blocked that sensation. You give into the pleasure, clutching for dear life. Your mouth rests on the curve of his shoulder, and you breathe heavily into him. He thrusts slowly, building tempo as you open more and more around him. By the time you’re gasping desperately, Hoseok smirks.

He rocks into you, your chest rising and falling, attempting to anchor yourself through the adrenaline. You’re moaning, and he groans when your thighs tighten around his hips. He’s flattered when he realizes you’re getting close, and he caresses you, his mouth digging into the nape of your neck. His breath is hot and his voice is raspy.

Hoseok covers your neck in wet, needy kisses, and you gasp, your body convulsing in pleasure. He trails a hand down, and takes a handful of your breast, squeezing tightly before pinching a nipple. He rolls it between his fingers, feeling your core tighten around him. He continues going down, and he finds the spot you needed his fingers most, stroking as he continued to thrust. Your entire body trembles at the onslaught, and you whimper loudly in bliss, pleasure that spills you over the edge.

You clutch Hoseok as you finally come. He thrusts a few more times, finally reaching his own high, and you feel him spasm inside of you, emptying himself in the condom, groaning loudly. Your throat is raw as the two of you catch your breath, and carefully, Hoseok eases himself out of you, peeling off the condom and throwing it away in a nearby trash can.

Obligated, he picks out a clean shirt from his closet and gives it to you. While you thank him and put it on, he dresses in his boxers that are laid on the floor. He crawls back into bed, and pulls the blanket over you both. You snuggle into his arms, satisfied. You felt loved and wanted, just as Hoseok cradles you into his chest. He strokes your hair and presses a kiss to your temple.

“How was that?” Hoseok asks, breaking the ice for the first time.

You lay there, sober, listening to his heartbeat. “It was good,” you tell him, honestly, and he hums in agreement.

The conversation ends there and the two of you are silent, soaking up the quietness and accepting the fact what the two of you had just done. At some point, you end up drifting off to sleep, head completely empty from any thoughts. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done that.

————

It’s frigid and lonely when you wake the following morning. Hoseok has sheer curtains covering the window above his bed, so the sunlight is brighter than you’d hoped, blinding you as your eyes adjust to the environment. The bed is empty when you turn your head to see no one but the disheveled sheets and blanket at your side. But, you do hear the faint sound of television from outside the closed door, a commercial of some sort for a toothpaste that’s recommended by 9 out of 10 dentists.

You aren’t hungover, thank God, but you are hungry, so you sit up on your elbows and stay there for a mere moment. Hoseok’s shirt is huge on you, and it hits you that now, you have to deal with the aftermath of last night. Sighing, you force yourself to get out of bed. There’s a pleasant soreness between your thighs, and you see the disposed condom in the trash. You clench your jaw and continue to look for your clothes that were scattered over the floor. The only piece of clothing you put on is your thong because you aren’t comfortable enough yet to walk commando in Hoseok’s apartment, but, you gather the rest and fold them over your arm, bringing them with you as you exit the room.

Hoseok is standing in the kitchen, hunched over the counter and scrolling on his phone. He senses your presence and looks up at you with a smile. You stare at him and he’s already dressed for the day and looks to have already gone through his morning routine.

“Morning!” He greets you happily. “Have a good sleep? I ordered us breakfast. I don’t like cooking.”

You greet him back and walk towards him, placing last night's outfit on the nearest surface. “I did. Thanks.”

He’s just about to show you his phone, excited at what he had just ordered for the two of you, but you suddenly remember about your own phone. It’s still in the same spot on the marble where you left it last night, next to your purse, and you scurry over to tap the screen, immediately checking for any new notifications.

Text Message

Yoongi 🤍

Your chest tightens and loosens at the same time, scared out of your mind at what it possibly could say. It was sent an hour ago, around 8:45 AM, and Hoseok is saying something but you couldn’t make it out. You’re too busy debating if you should open the message or not.

“What?” You ask Hoseok, voice sharper than you mean it to be.

He leans against the counter again, nonchalantly, like he has all the time in the world. “Are you going to answer him?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, though it comes out more like a breath rather than an answer.

Hoseok’s mouth quirks, not quite a smile, not quite anything, really, and he crosses his arms. He watches as your hand curls into a fist, a nervous habit of some sort, and you still don’t do anything with your phone.

“You’re acting like he can see you through the screen.”

You swallow, fixing your hand steady. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He asks, tilting his head. “You didn’t seem this nervous last night.”

Last night. The club; dancing together, throwing back shots, sweaty bodies, the heat of his apartment; hot kisses, loud noises, gasping for one another, the way you didn’t stop.

You exhale through your nose and finally tap Yoongi’s unread message.

Morning. Sorry about last night. I drank too much. Call me when you wake up. I miss you.

Your face scrunches up because it’s almost laughable at how normal his message is and how oblivious he really can be. Hoseok watches you instead of the phone.

“What’d he say?”

You lock the screen again, not bothering to respond, and slide the device away from you like it’s nothing. “He wants me to call him.”

“And will you?” Hoseok’s question isn’t jealous or angry, it’s practical, and he steps closer to you.

“I’ll text him back,” you say, and you reach for an empty glass to pour yourself some water. “Later.”

Hoseok hums, his voice low. “Make it convincing.”

You bite your lip, something cold setting in the pit of your stomach. Of course. Convincing. That’s all it takes. So you pick up your phone again, typing quickly and with ease.

Morning. I’m okay. Miss you too. Talk soon.

A lie; wrapped up simple and sweet, and you hit send.

Hoseok’s gaze flicks from your screen to your face. He’s satisfied.

“There,” he murmurs. “See? Nothing happened.”

But you both know that’s far from the truth, and somewhere in Busan, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket because he, too, was waiting anxiously for your reply. He reads your message with a soft smile, still thinking he was loved—completely unaware of how easily you’ve learned to live without him…while the truth sat comfortably in Hoseok’s kitchen.

#bts scenarios #hoseok #yoongi #angst #smut #scenario #bts

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

BTS FILES