▻ Play With Fire
↳ Arsonist!Hoseok x Criminal!f.Reader
⤜ Crime AU
⤜ Infatuated Lovers
⤜ WC: 8,170
⤜ Rating: MA🔞
⤜ Summary: Together forever- a promise.
I'll never leave you- a guarantee.
Like a moth to the flame, you were drawn in from the moment you laid eyes on Jung Hoseok. Clouds of smoke and ash billowed around him, dark smudges on his cheeks and a wild, manic grin on his face. You had just finished emptying out the safe in the back office when some psycho threw a molotov through the front window of the convenience store. As you scrambled through the window you used to enter, you made the snap decision to run after the pyromaniac.
Little did you know you'd catch fire in an instant and burn hotter than hell. But, you're not the only thing burning. When a job goes sideways, you both vow to make the world burn...starting with the asshole that's betrayed you. He wants to play with fire; so you'll see to it that he burns.
This is the first installment for a new mini-series, Burning Up.
⚠️ Blowjob, theft, dark thoughts revolving around arson and petty crimes, Yoongi is a crime kingpin that you and Hoseok work for, talk of murder, outdoor sex, sub/dom tones, manhandling, fire play, creampie, orgasm denial/edging, praise, restraints, fingering, guns/someone gets shot, blood, it’s all a little dark. Each part will have specific warnings at the top.
Chapter 1. Strike A Match
Chapter 2. Going Up In Smoke
Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ February 2023 “Hearts On Fire” Writing Event.
Where there's smoke, there's a fire. Love burns as easily as it devours. Two firebending prodigies. Two very different flames. A controlled lethal blue vs a playful and pacifistic orange. Will this love be too hot to handle?
summary: Perspective Masterlist | wounds that no longer bleed, sometimes still weep for the pain inflicted. tell me little match-boy, when your eyes no longer see only crimson, do you still leek golden tears?
warnings: fem reader, drugs mentioned, smoking, murder
words: 614
~
“i thought you said they were in recovery!” Mark flinched at the yelling of his closest friend.
“i’m sorry... i made a mistake.” the young man held his head in his hands.
“and i fear it’s going to cost Chenle and Jisung their lives.” Haechan looked up at Kitty as she sighed.
“well, what’s the plan, fearless leader?” Lucas’ sarcastice voice graded on Mark’s ears.
“we cannot leave them there!” Jaemin placed a hand on Renjun’s shoulder as the smaller boy fumed.
“they weren't the only ones taken...” all eyes turned to Jeno. the larger boy shifted uncomfortably. “...i’m sorry Kitty, Taeil’s been missing for almost a day now...”
“what.” a shiver ran up Haechan’s spine at the venom that dripped from the young woman’s words. Jeno shrunk back in fear, hiding slightly behind Jaemin.
“do we know if it was the same people?” the quieter voice of Jungwoo asked.
“yeah, but i doubt they’re being kept in the same place.” Renjun answered.
“i’ve got an idea.” all eyes in the room turned to the girl stood beside Haechan. she grinned, nudging the shoulder of her partner. “pretty sure i know who is to blame for both of their abductions.”
~
she felt her shoulders relax, as she watched the amber flames light up the dark night sky. the smell of the burning building was so satisfying. plaster, wood, burning in an inferno. diamonds, glass, flesh, melting away into ash. she almost felt guilty, almost.
“that has got to be one of the most expensive houses i’ve ever seen.” Haechan whistled as he admired their handy work.
“two of the most expensive people.” Lucas’ deep voice was followed by the click of a lighter. the smoke fell from his lips, cigarette held between his teeth.
“who lived here?” she wondered, turning over her shoulder. Haechan wished she hadn’t asked.
“Mr. and Mrs. Seo.” the young man answered. “i thought something fishy was going on when i bought up a bit of coke off him. he was one of my suppliers.”
“maybe that’s why the place stinks.” she chuckled.
“naw, that’s just how rich people smell. they always reek.” Lucas pulled his jacket closer and started walking back to the car.
the smell of smoke clouded Haechan’s lungs. it burned his nose and stung his eyes. the thought of someone who many have spelled the end of his friends had blinded him before. now however, he could smell the burning flesh.
his own words rung in his ears. ‘cauterize your wounds or be burned at the stake.’ the stench of death and murder hung heavy on his chest.
~
the rage died on his tongue, the sounds of bones cracking in the heat caused him to flinch. it all replayed over and over again, ringing in his ears.
“it’s still bothering you, isn’t it?” her voice was soft beside him.
Haechan cast his gaze down to the floor. “yeah. i feel like a monster.”
“sometimes it takes a monster to destroy a monster.” her arm around him pulled him to lay his head against her shoulder. Haechan curled in on himself, burying his face into her neck.
she played with his hair as she felt the wetness from his eyes dampen her skin. “...we killed someone (y/n)...” his voice shook. she shushed the crying boy.
“they sold off Chenle and Jisung, and Kitty’s brother too. fate had them scheduled for some revenge. we were just the ones to deal it out.” she hushed into his hair.
a small sniffle sounded from the boy curled up beside her.
“i guess you really do either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”
“You know, the funny thing about fire... It can burn anything. Take this rose for example- the one you gave me when you said you loved me. Oops- now its burning. Take this love- burning. This house? Burning.”
M continues, “The marriage is purely business, of course. But, now that our annulment period is over and her uptight accountant has finally signed me on as the sole benefactor of her estate, I don’t find myself much interested in actually being married to the withering old bitch. She stays in the loft above the boutique during the week, so she’ll be there tonight.”
Well, that’s news. “So, are we talking about a lot and luggage, then?” Hoseok asks. You know he and M have their own job-related lingo when it comes to things like this. You’ve pieced together some of it over the years. Lot on its own generally means a building and lot and luggage is a building plus any occupants.”
M is nodding before Hoseok finishes the question. “Lot and luggage. Once the job is done and you’re back from your little vacation, I want you both to consider coming on full-time. I’ll offer you a quarter of Maudette’s estate to split between the two of you.”
That’s big. M keeps a tight circle and it’s a rarity for him to invite someone inside. This is…you’re not even sure what words to use. “That’s— M, that’s a lot of money.”
“It’s inconsequential.” The dismissive way M speaks infuriates you sometimes. “Do the job, take your time off, and think about my offer. Ping me when you’re back on the radar and we’ll discuss it more then. For now, get the fuck off my boat.”
Just like that, you’re dismissed. You know you don’t have to ask about the money, it’ll be in your account, split between you and Hoseok, before you even set foot back on the dock.
“What do you think?” you ask Hoseok once you’re both back in the Chevelle.
A slow smile curves his lips. “We’ll talk about his offer later. Right now, I think you owe me a fuck on the roof of the car and then once the sun goes down we’re going to light up that boutique like it’s Christmas.” You can’t help but mirror his smile at the idea.
There is a perfect spot right off the highway on the way back into town. It’s secluded, a small pull-off over a bluff. You can easily miss it unless you know where to look, as it’s tucked away just after a curve in the road. This spot has easily seen more of your bare ass than an actual bed has.
On the drive, you teased Hoseok by pulling off all your clothes to don the red silk dress you snatched earlier. You loved the way he could barely keep his eyes on the road. There was a hunger in his stare and the way he kept licking his lips. With the car parked, his attention is now fully on you. It has you burning from the inside out.
“Grab the blanket out of the back,” you tell him before slipping out into the chilly air. The sun is setting, taking its mild warmth with it. Being in a strapless, short silk dress has chill bumps dancing along your exposed skin. It feels good, just on this side of painfully cold.
The hood of the Chevelle is still warm. Hoseok stretches out the fleece blanket across the shiny candy apple red surface. He let you choose the color the last time the car got a makeover. It’s a classic color, one that reminds you of fierce passion and dangerous chemistry.
“Get your ass over here,” Hoseok growls, grabbing one of your wrists and tugging you toward himself so hard that you let out a huff of air when you hit his hard chest. “You’re in serious trouble, baby.”
You poke out your bottom lip in a faux pout. “Aw, what did I do?” you simper playfully. You reach up and twist a hand into his dark hair, bringing the one still clamped in his grip to his chest. “Haven’t I been good?”
Hoseok lets out a dark laugh. “Oh, no, baby. I don’t think you could ever be a good girl, not when you’re filthy as fuck…just the way I like you.”
Using the hand in his hair, you force his mouth down to yours. He makes an obscenely primal sound in the back of his throat, more animal than man. His teeth catch your bottom lip in a savage bite making you suck in a stilted breath of surprise. Hoseok takes his free hand and slides it up under the skirt of your dress, trailing his fingers along the inside of your thigh.
“Mmm,” you moan, finally managing to rip your lip from between his teeth. “Fuck me,” you demand. Hoseok shakes his head, a rueful smile on his face. He shoves you around until your back is to his chest. You have no choice but to pull your hand from his hair and use it to brace yourself on the hood of the car when he shoves you forward until the tops of your thighs hit the front grill on the Chevelle.
“I can never decide what I like best; when you mouth off and get demanding or when you poke out that bottom lip and act all demure and shit.” His hands land roughly on your hips, pressing you harder against the car as he slides up your dress to expose your bare ass. The bite of cold steel burns against your thighs with your dress rucked up around your waist now.
You wiggle back against him, teasing. “How about you shut up and fuck me already.”
The blistering smack of his open palm against your ass has all the air leaving your lungs in a whoosh. “Say it again. I dare you.”
There is already arousal pooling along your slit. Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear the rush of it in your ears. “Fuck. Me.” You enunciate the words, taking the bait because you know it’ll be worth it.
Hoseok shudders behind you. You hear the faint hiss of the zipper on his jumper sliding down. His slender fingers glide over the curve of your ass before sliding between your lower lips. “Your pussy is already weeping for me, it knows it’s about to be punished.”
You can barely hear him over your own ragged breathing. But, you’re so familiar with this song and dance you know what he’s saying without needing to hear the words clearly. A cry is wrenched from your throat as those toying fingers thrust inside in one quick motion.
The rhythm he sets is brutal. The air around you quickly fills with the smacking wet sounds of your body under assault from Hoseok’s touch. With his free hand, he gathers your wrists and pins them to the small of your back. You press a cheek against the fleece blanket, loving the way Hoseok dominates your body with both physicality and pleasure.
“No,” you whimper in protest when he suddenly pulls out his fingers, stealing away the orgasm that was quickly approaching.
Hoseok tuts softly, the sound coming out reminiscent of a purr. “What’s the safe word, baby?” he asks softly, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin of your wrists still pinned behind you.
“Burn,” you respond instantly. If Hoseok is asking for your safe word you know things are about to blur some lines.
You pant against the blanket, anticipation adding to the delightful ache between your thighs. There is a rustling of fabric behind you, what sounds like something being pulled against something else. A moment later you feel a length of fabric being wound around your wrists. The belt from Hoseok’s jumpsuit abrades the tender flesh with a gentle heat.
He pulls the knot tight, jerking your shoulders slightly. Satisfied, he hums in amusement as you begin to wiggle and test out the binding. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say you can. Do you understand?”
It takes you a moment to work enough moisture around your tongue to answer him. “Yes, sir.”
“Remember your safe word,” he says into the silence, like what he’s about to do requires a reminder so soon.
The distinct schick sound of a match head dragging along the strike strip on a matchbox is loud in the silence that follows his reminder. This is where the lines can blur. When you both ride a fine line between what you should do and what you actually want to do. You both want to experience the adrenaline rush that comes from the subtle kiss of a flame, but neither of you ever wants to hurt the other.
You feel the warmth from the match, smell the sulphuric burn in the air, before you hiss a breath between clenched teeth from the pinprick of pain as he snuffs the match out between one of your ass cheeks and his hip bone. You groan in unison, shuddering as you both get a hit of dopamine and a rush of endorphins.
The straining head of his cock bumps against your arousal-covered core. You can feel his quick breaths against your back as he lines himself up and then kicks his hips forward. Your forehead drops to the hood of the car and your scream is muffled into the blanket. From this position, Hoseok feels impossibly big. You love it.
Hoseok grips hard onto your hips, immediately setting a domineering pace that has you up on your toes and tears welling along your lash line.
“Oh god, oh god!” You bite into the blanket to keep from crying out too loudly.
“God doesn’t belong here, baby,” Hoseok grunts with a harsh laugh. “Nothing but me, you, and the devil inside of us.” Your walls flutter around him as you fight off the first wave of pleasure that threatens to make you cum. “Don’t you dare,” he admonishes, giving an extra brutal swivel of his hips before practically coming to a stop. “Fight it. That’s my girl.”
Pain meets pleasure and you ride a knife's edge between coherent thoughts and insanity. The intensity of Hoseok knows no bounds. Your ass aches, the small blister from the match getting repeatedly rubbed with every thrust as he renews his efforts once your struggle with control passes.
Though, you’re quickly back on that edge. “Hoseok,” you plead his name. “Please!” The second wave is harder to fight off than the first, your walls pulse in unison with his cock moving along them. He hits you just right, his thick head sliding against a spot that has your eyes squeezing shut. The way his hips press you forward has delicious pressure applied to your clit.
“Not yet, baby, not yet.”
Your response is a sobbed, “Please!” You dig your toes against the asphalt beneath them, never having bothered to put your shoes back on before getting out of the car. It’s a delirious feeling, trying to keep your body from a natural response like an orgasm. With every thrust, you slowly lose the battle. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, Hoseok finally relents.
“Cum for me, let go!” he moans loudly, hips jerking against your ass as his cock surges inside you. You can feel every pulse of his cum, deep within your undulating walls, making your own orgasm shudder through you. The pounding of your heart thuds heavily in your ears, mixing into a sultry melody with the breathy pants from Hoseok as he drapes over your back, boneless and spent.
You lay like that for several minutes, enjoying the comforting feel of each other. “You’re so good to me,” you murmur as he leans back enough to release your wrists from his belt.
Hoseok helps you to turn over so you’re sitting on the hood of the car, heedless of the cum dripping out of you onto the blanket. He takes each of your wrists and gently massages the red marks left behind. “I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me over the next two weeks, I swear it.”
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. You can barely see his eyes in the dark since the sun has long since disappeared beyond the bluff and horizon. What you can see, though, is endless adoration and glittering promises. You press a lingering kiss to his lips before smiling.
“I’m going to be kind of sad to see Ricque’s go up in flames. You think we’ll have time to grab a few things before we torch it?”
That makes him laugh. “Absolutely,” he assures, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you around to your side of the car. “Anything for you, baby.”
The street is mostly dark at this time of night. Restaurant Kim is dark save for the dim recessed lighting above the hostess stand. Park Hotel’s lobby is brightly lit, but you see the night guard is nowhere to be seen. It makes you wonder if M is at work here, ensuring a successful hit on Ricque’s. He holds that kind of power, that kind of sway over an establishment. You’re also fairly certain M is in bed with the Parks or vice versa. The underground rumor mill never ceases on the topic of M.
You changed out of the red dress, draping it delicately over the tiny backseat of the Chevelle before pulling on some black jeans, a long-sleeve navy shirt, and your bomber jacket. The short-heeled boots you wear are comfortable and easy to run in if needed. Hoseok is still wearing his white jumpsuit, but it doesn’t stand out nearly as much as you thought it might.
“Best access point will be between the hotel and Ricque’s, we can go in through the back entrance.” Hoseok talks in a low whisper as you both survey the area around the boutique.
“She went to bed well over an hour ago,” you think aloud. When you and Hoseok pulled up down the street, you watched the lights in the loft flip on and off as Maudette moved between them until all that was left on was a small lamp in what you assume is the bedroom. Then, that too went out. “Should be good and deep in a sleep cycle by now.”
“Let’s go. I say we have about two hours to get this done before the city starts to wake up around here,” he estimates with one last glance around the quiet street.
It’s a casual thing, approaching the building. You and Hoseok act like you’re just a couple out on a late-night walk, your arm linked through his and grins curving your lips. To anyone that might see you on the off chance, you’d just be another faceless couple on the street.
When the service alley between the hotel and the boutique comes up you both easily slip into the shadows and skirt your way down to the backdoor of Ricque’s. It’s still appalling just how little security there is here. No camera above the door, no bars on the windows, no sensors or alarms to sound when Hoseok jimmies the lock open and pushes inside. Like stealing candy from a baby. Not that you’ve ever done that, you prefer bigger targets and better prizes.
“I know exactly what I want,” you murmur into the dark back room. “Get started and I’ll be back in less than five.”
You leave him there, unloading the small satchel that contains bottles of accelerant. It’s impossible to ignore the small money chest you know Maudette keeps under the front counter. The lock pops easily and you shove the handful of stacks into your jacket pocket before moving on to your main target; the jewelry.
As much as you’d like to grab another designer dress or a blouse, maybe even a new pair of jeans, you know you need to stick to small items that you can grab quickly without worrying about digging through the racks to find your sizes. The jewelry case is near the front windows, so you approach it with added caution.
The faint sound of Hoseok emptying the cans of kerosine carries to you from across the boutique, followed by the familiar yet pungent oily smell you associate with it. You know he’s coating the walls and shoving a few glass bombs—homemade contraptions involving mason jars with spark detonators attached to the bottoms of the lids—in the overhead ductwork. That’s something you both discussed at length, how best to destabilize the structure of the building to do max damage. Taking out the ceiling support tends to do the job most effectively.
Getting the jewelry case open is easy, it’s not the first time you’ve breached it. There’s easily a quarter of a mil in gold and jewels that go into your pocket opposite the stacks of cash. Ecstasy is a fine word to describe how this kind of stuff makes you feel. The thrill, the danger, it’s as intoxicating as Hoseok is.
“Psst, baby, ready to go back here,” Hoseok calls to you in a whisper-yell.
You shut the jewelry case door out of habit but don’t bother with the lock. The leather of your gloves creaks as you flex your hands, taking one last glance around before heading back to Hoseok. Something out of the corner of your eye stops you in your tracks and you backpedal a step, eyes focused out the front window from where you’re crouched by the jewelry case.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper. A cold rush of panic douses the thrill from before. “Hoseok, we got to go!” Not wasting time trying to remain hidden, you spring into action dashing toward the back of the building. You hear shouts from outside following you.
“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, dropping the whispers as you have.
Before you can respond to him you see a distinct red circle light up in the center of his chest. You let your momentum carry you further, a small scream escaping as you hear the front glass of the boutique shatter and the echoing crack of a gun.
Bright white pain tears through your side, matching the bright flare of fire that ignites behind you. You land sprawled on top of Hoseok who’s yelling at you. “What the fuck! The lighter! Oh god, you’ve been shot!” His hands are all over you, tugging at your jacket and shirt.
Despite the blaring pain, you can tell it's superficial at most. “Just got clipped, I’m fine,” you hiss, shoving up into a crouch. The fire roars to life, quickly licking up the wall and leading right to one of the overhead vents. You cup your side, feeling liquid warmth soaking through your clothes. “We have to leave. Now! Before the roof comes down on us. That’s S.W.A.T outside, whatever happens…just go, please.”
Hoseok gives you a wild look, like the idea of getting separated or leaving you behind is ludacris. You know he’d rather die. It’s all or nothing. Together forever.
“I’ll never leave you,” he growls, fisting a hand in your hair and jerking your mouth to his for a quick, searing kiss. “Let’s go, baby, out the office window. That’s the best chance we’ve got.”
The front windows implode as you both scramble into the small office. With the front of the boutique open to the night air, the fire surges and consumes, fueled by the added oxygen. Heat beats against your back as Hoseok shoves open the small overhead window in the office. Smoke billows around you, making you cough and wheeze. Your side aches and every step you take makes you want to scream.
A rumbling crack shudders through the building, the ceiling supports moaning in protest to the fire eating away at them. “Go, I’ll be right behind you!” you have to yell over the roar of the fire and the yells from the S.W.A.T team and screaming horns from the fire engines out front.
You watch Hoseok disappear through the window just for his hand to reach back through for you. A smile momentarily graces your face before it’s replaced with a grimace as Hoseok helps hoist you up. Your side flares with a new wave of pain. A cold sweat breaks out along your forehead and your heart pounds with renewed panic when Hoseok finally gets you out of the window and onto the small roof of the maintenance shed beside the boutique.
“Two,” Hoseok whispers to you, nodding down toward the alley below. “I’ll get the one on the right if you can get the one on the left?” There’s a mild panic in his own eyes that you can tell he’s trying to ignore for your sake. He’s worried about you, you can see it in the way his eyes periodically flick to where your hand is clamped to your side.
You nod, using your free hand to pull out your switchblade. “Together,” you breathe.
“Together,” he echoes.
Killing people isn’t exactly something you enjoy. But, you don’t hesitate when it comes to your or Hoseok’s life for theirs. Hoseok executes a perfect drop-in, landing right on the shoulders of his guy and silencing his startled gasp by effortlessly snapping his neck. Your attack is slightly less graceful, but despite your bad fall, you make sure your blade lands true; right between the bottom of the guy's helmet and the top of his vest. His spinal cord shreds like damp paper beneath your blade.
Both guys fall with muted thumps to the ground. “Go!” you urge again. Hoseok wastes no time grabbing your free hand and hauling you along behind him toward the only viable escape now, along the backside of Restaurant Kim. The Chevelle is parked a few blocks away, thankfully in the opposite direction from the cacophony of activity and emergency vehicles.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
You’re pretty sure this is one of those piss-your-pants moments they talk about in movies. Though, your body is so high-strung with panic and adrenaline that you’re certain it’s lost all ability to function as it should. Hoseok doesn’t stop. You don’t want him to, either. But, you can’t help casting a glance back at the person who called out. If you’re going to get shot, again, you want to at least see who’s pulling the trigger.
“J.” His pseud comes out in a whisper but you might as well have screamed it. You’d recognize that hulking mass and stoic jawline anywhere. He’s dressed in full gear, a rifle raised in his hands pointed right at you. It’s silly, but you can feel his finger on the trigger, you know what’s about to happen.
But the shot never comes. Your gaze snaps from the gun back up to J’s espresso-colored eyes and you see at that moment he has no intention of pulling the trigger. That moment of hesitation is all you and Hoseok need to disappear out of sight.
The shouts of others joining J behind you carries faintly down the alley, barely heard over the pounding of your and Hoseok’s feet. He half-drags you all the way to the Chevelle. There are no words exchanged, just quick and near-panicked movements as he turns the engine over and peels away from the curb.
“Fuck!” he curses, slamming a hand against the steering wheel. “Baby, are you okay?”
You make a noncommittal noise because you, in fact, aren’t sure if you are okay. You’re pretty sure the bullet only clipped you but the pain in your side says it might be worse than you thought. Not life-threatening, though, unless infection sets in. You can’t go to a hospital. The small first aid kit in the trunk will have to do. But first, you both need to get as far away from here as possible.
Hoseok keeps driving, veering down another street, heading toward the outskirts of town and the coastline. When he slows down to take another turn, you glance out the window and meet the intense stare of M through a lowered car window. You can see the hatred there, flaring brightly as he realizes who he’s looking at.
“Hoseok,” you say softly into the quiet din of the car but loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the engine. “It was M.”
“What?”
“M must have ratted us out. The guy that almost got us in the alley was J and we just passed a car with M in it. It can’t be a fucking coincidence.” It’s hard to keep a level head and not scream at the top of your lungs.
Hoseok shifts in his seat. “I’ll kill him.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, making the leather creak and groan.
“We will kill him.” You say with barely restrained reverence. All the years of loyalty and big-brothering? Nothing compared to the betrayal you feel now. “He wants to play with fire? He’s going to get first-hand experience as to why they say when you play with fire you’re bound to get burned.”
The sounds of police sirens and fire engine horns are ones you’re intimately familiar with. Crude smoke still lingers in the air long after the flashing lights and blaring alarms have faded. The fire is out but the remnants continue to slowly smolder under the lazy eye of a few sleep-deprived firefighters. It’s not the first time you’ve been able to slip past the flame sentries and caution tape without detection. You’ve learned from the best, after all.
“There’s my girl,” Hoseok’s voice drifts to you from a dark corner. “Did you bring it?”
You heft the fifth of vodka that you lifted from the corner store up so the clear bottle catches in the moonlight slanting through the now missing roof space overhead. “Just like you asked.”
Hoseok half laughs, half groans in appreciation as you hand over the bottle. “You never let me down, baby.” He plants a smacking kiss on your lips and a playful swat on your ass with his free hand.
He’s wearing black leather pants and a black trench coat. It’s typical attire for him on nights like this. “Are we staying here or moving next door?” you ask, looking around at the heavily dilapidated structure of the burnt-out warehouse. You tug the front of your bomber jacket up to cover your nose. Hoseok might luxuriate in the burning stench of the aftermath, but you are more partial to actually being able to breathe unimpeded.
“Aw, baby, is it really that uncomfortable to breathe here? The fire wasn’t nearly as hot or smoke heavy as the last one and you let me fuck you right under that one smoldering high beam.” He pouts out his bottom lip while twisting off the cap to the vodka. “Just a taste, please? I know we shouldn’t but I’m already so painfully hard.” Bringing the vodka up with one hand he takes a swig from the bottle and firmly grips the bulging erection pinned in the front of the leather pants with the other.
It’s impossible to say no to him, especially when he encourages your more depraved side. “What do I get in return?” you ask, playing coy. You drop the jacket from your nose and slip your fingers into the top of his pants, tugging him a half-step closer.
He offers you the vodka, bringing the bottle to your lips and tipping it up. You take a generous swallow, grimacing slightly as it burns down your throat. “I’ll take you to that little boutique you like so much, Ricque’s.” Hoseok’s eyes sparkle with mischief and naughty promises.
He knows how much you love Ricque’s. It gets you every time. “You’re not playing fair,” you chide, dropping to your knees in the thin layer of ash and debris covering the floor.
“It’s worth it, though, baby. Fuck, you’re so pretty on your knees surrounded by my carnage and smoke.” He takes another hefty swig from the vodka and jerks his chin at you in a silent command. You open your mouth, poking your tongue out in invitation.
The vodka in his mouth hits your tongue with a wet thwack, stray drops splattering on your cheeks and chin to dribble down onto your chest. “Fuck,” you moan, loving the dirty feeling that comes whenever Hoseok indulges in your more taboo desires.
Your fingers make quick work of the fastenings on his pants and have them snug around his thighs soon after. He’s bare beneath, as always. The long, veiny length of his cock, now free from its confines, bobs in the air before your parted lips.
“Quick and dirty, just how I like it,” Hoseok grunts and flexes his hips forward to smear the bead of precum on the head of his cock across your lips. “Choke on it.”
“Mmm.” You open your mouth, welcoming his invasion right into the back of your throat. The sound of your gagging is covered by the moan that emits from Hoseok. He withdraws almost to the tip before snapping his hips forward again. You wrap a hand around his base, following your lips in a corkscrew motion that you know he loves.
It’s apparent he’s been on edge for a while. Hoseok gets off on setting the fires, nothing gets his dick harder than the strike of a match. Well, except maybe you. So you know he’s been tight in his pants for over an hour at least. From the first glimmer of flame, he's in a constant battle of wills over how his body reacts. At first, it alarmed you. But, over the years, you’ve grown to love his burning enthusiasm; pun intended.
A few thrusts are all it takes, accompanied by your zealous sucking and licking, to have him grunting and releasing hot streams of cum into your mouth. You swallow greedily, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.
“Fuck,” he pants. “I’ll never get tired of that.” He helps you tug his pants back into place before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. Hoseok moans into your mouth. He tastes like vodka and woodsmoke, a potent combination that promises a good evening ahead. “Come on, baby, I have a blanket ready for us on the rooftop next door.”
The sentiment isn’t lost on you. Of course he’d take care of you. You never should have doubted his intentions. After nearly five years on the run together, you feel like you know him better than you know yourself sometimes.
Ricque’s sits on the corner between a ritzy hotel and an upscale restaurant. It’s on the bougie side of town, one you never would have dared to venture through before meeting Hoseok. He makes you feel invincible and as if you belong anywhere he says you do. And right now, you belong in a swanky boutique that makes your fingers itch and your skin prickle. You never aspired to be a criminal, but there’s just something about taking something that isn’t yours that gives you such a rush that’s hard to find anywhere else.
The little boutique sports high-end jewelry and brands you’d typically find on the runway at Paris fashion week. But more than that, despite the tens of thousands of dollars in merchandise that they lose out thanks to your sly hands, they still haven’t installed a proper security system. It’s laughable, just how easy it is to lift whatever you want from the shop, right under the snooty nose of Maudette Ricque, the owner.
“You should try on that red one,” Hoseok says, nodding to the strapless red number hanging on the rack behind you. “You know I love you in red.” His tongue prods at the inside of his cheek as he waggles a brow at you.
You grab the hanger holding the garment, marveling at the buttery soft silk of the dress as you run a finger along the dipping neckline. A quick glance at the price tag has you suppressing a snort. Of course it would cost more than a middle-class family's monthly mortgage payment. You carry the dress with you toward the dressing room.
Maudette clears her throat, her rheumy blue eyes narrowing on you as you approach the counter. “Are you actually going to buy this one?” she asks with a soured tone. “You’ve been in here every other day for nearly a month now, trying on my inventory but you never purchase anything. I’d almost think you didn’t have a dime to your name if it wasn’t for your boyfriend over there.” She tilts her head toward where Hoseok is flicking through a rack of men’s designer jeans. “I’d recognize a Patek Philippe watch anywhere. Man has to have some money to afford that.”
It hurts to press your lips so tightly into a firm line to keep from laughing. If she only knew you lifted that celestial sun and moon watch off some jackass who had the audacity to glare at you after he bumped into you on the street. He kept walking, yelling at the pitiful soul on the other end of his cell phone as he stormed away, wrist just a little lighter. You gifted it to Hoseok as a celebratory reward after the big bank job you worked on together. It’ll take months for them to rebuild the city bank that’s now half charred brick and timber.
An equally sour retort is poised on your tongue but you just give her a saccharine smile and step around the counter and into the dressing booth instead. The soft murmur of Maudette talking to Hoseok carries through the thick curtain. He laughs at something she says and it makes you scowl at the purple fabric as if he could see you. You know he’s just playing the game, keeping Maudette occupied while you do what you need to.
The crotchety old hag may have good taste in designer brands but she has poor taste in people if she thinks Hoseok has any more money than you do or better intentions for that matter. It makes your scowl turn into a sly grin to think of him out there charming the dust off her shoulder pads while you’re in here trimming the security tag off the red dress. It easily tucks into your purse while you pull out the slightly less expensive burgundy dress you snagged off the pitiful clearance rack before slipping into the dressing room. You’ve done this enough to know Maudette, being the blind bat she is, will be none the wiser.
You did some digging into Maudette Ricque a few years back while you and Hoseok took a small hiatus up the coast. She’s a trust fund baby and has no living family. Widowed with no children to leave her fortune to so she wastes it away with this boutique. It’s no wonder she’s never noticed the missing merchandise the way she throws money around. That and you’re certain she can’t see more than 3 feet in front of her. This means she’ll see the burgundy dress over your arm and assume it’s the same one you went in with. It’s so easy.
“Mau, do you think you could get this dress in gold?” you ask, pushing through the curtain and sighing dramatically. “This tone of red makes me look washed out.” You’re careful to hang the dress back onto its rack, but carelessly enough it would look like you’re truly distressed over it.
Maudette waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Not like you’ll buy it then either, but sure.”
Hoseok gives Maudette a charming smile and a wink before he mouths ‘see you later’ and turns to slide an arm over your shoulders and walk you out of the boutique.
“I hate her,” you mutter once you’re back out on the sidewalk.
“But you love her pompous carelessness,” Hoseok sing-songs lightly.
You huff a breath. “You’re right. We’ve been skimming her shit on and off for almost three years now and with just a little makeup and a haircut, she’s never recognized us. Nice eye for this dress, by the way. It’ll look perfect when you’re fucking me on the hood of the car later.”
“Oh, you fucking tease,” he crows, giving your ass a slap before firmly squeezing a handful. “I’d fuck you right now if it wasn’t two in the afternoon on a Tuesday with a bike cop sitting just across the street.”
You laugh together, continuing down the sidewalk toward the ‘67 Chevelle parked around the corner. Hoseok’s made sure the car is nice enough that it doesn’t catch unwanted attention on this side of town, looking like just another vintage from a collector. What he’s got under the hood, though, would make any classic car lover cry in modernization.
It changes paint colors nearly as often as you and Hoseok change hair colors. It’s not always easy being wanted criminals, but a box of hair dye or a few days in a dingy body shop can do wonders for evading the law.
“We should head down the coast for a bit. I’m sure after last night we should lay low for a while. I could use a week on the beach somewhere,” you muse, pulling away from Hoseok to skirt around to the passenger side of the car.
Hoseok gives you a roguish grin after sliding in and pulling his door shut. “My baby wants sex on the beach, huh?”
“Ugh, no! Never again. You don’t know anything about discomfort until you’ve had sand in your vagina.” You grimace, remembering the last time Hoseok talked you into fucking on a sand dune. “Let’s just cash in with M and get a nice hotel or something. Please, babe?” It’s not beneath you to beg. In fact, you know Hoseok thoroughly enjoys it when you push out your lips and give him puppy dog eyes.
His bottom lip catches between his teeth as he takes in your pouty lips. “Fuck, baby. You could ask me to burn down the world with that look and I’d ask you how quickly you wanted it to be ashes.”
“Yes!” you whoop, pumping a fist in the air. “Let’s go now. The faster we cash out the faster we can be down the coast.”
You open the glove compartment and pull out the burner phone you and Hoseok use whenever you need to reach your contact, M. He’s a notorious crime lord that reigns supreme all along the coast. His reach is far and wide, which makes him the perfect place to find quick and easy money.
M, whose real name you know to be Min Yoongi, uses Hoseok to take out buildings being used by his rivals, anyone who so much as thinks about starting up their own lucrative endeavors on his territory, or in some cases anyone that’s simply done him wrong in his eyes. You actually introduced them. M’s been in your corner since you ran away at seventeen. You tried to pickpocket him, only to end up with a bag over your head and a 9mm pressed to your temple.
That was a long time ago, and now M’s like a big brother to you. He runs a tight ship and won’t hesitate to let your ass drop if it comes down to that, but he’s as good as it gets in this line of work. “Where to, baby?”
“East side wharf, dock seven,” you read off the location in the text message you received.
The drive to the east side is filled with you and Hoseok belting out your favorite songs blasting through the stereo system he installed last year. Spreading your fingers lovingly over the soft black leather of your seat, you think once again about maybe trying to get a driver's license. Hoseok says you don’t need one, it’s not like you don’t already know how to drive anyway. Plus, it might be hard to legally obtain one considering you don’t have a single document that says who you really are. Sure, you’ve taken up different names and personas over the years, but no one—not even Hoseok—knows who you were before you ran away. That’s how you plan to keep it, too.
“Hopefully he lets us cash out and doesn’t give us another job instead.” Hoseok taps his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat of the song playing. “You remember what happened last time, the only way he’d give us a week out was if we did that one last hit for him.”
You shrug, luxuriating in the wind whipping in through the small crack at the top of your window. Regardless of how cold it gets outside, you enjoy keeping the window down just half an inch to circulate air and the kiss of cold makes you feel alive. “If a quickie gets him to let us cash out for a week then I’m okay with that.”
“Quickie, huh?” Hoseok teases. “I’ll take you up on a quickie, dealer's choice.”
Laughing feels good. “If I can make you cum before we make it to the dock, you owe me ice cream.”
Hoseok grabs at the front of his white jumpsuit, quickly thumbing down the full zipper. “Fuck, I love when you talk like that. Ice cream and one of those Valentine's chocolate boxes you really like if you swallow.”
You earn your ice cream, chocolate, and then some. Hoseok is a sweaty mess by the time he pulls the Chevelle into a dark parking spot near dock seven. “Need a minute?” you tease, licking your lips and smirking when he glares at you.
“I said suck my dick not suck out my soul. Hot damn, baby, you’ve ruined me.” He absently pulls a match from his jacket pocket, twirling it between his nimble fingers. “Hopefully, if he gives us a job to do, it's a small one. An easy in and out. I can’t wait to get you away from here, I’m going to destroy that pretty pussy of yours.”
The passenger door on the car swings open and you climb out into the chilly February air. “Better get to it, then. Come on, babe.”
Hoseok ambles around the car, taking up your hand in his. You know the two of you are a sight. It’s a rare occasion when Hoseok wears something other than black, but tonight he's in a full white jumper that is open to the waist with a thin white shirt underneath. White dirties easily, but sometimes he likes the way smoke and ash smear over it. He enjoys making clean things dirty; enter you for example.
There is a single boat anchored at dock seven. A monstrously ostentatious gold yacht with black and dark ochre accents. “Hello?” Hoseok calls out as you near the boat.
A moment later M emerges from below deck. His slight frame is clad in a charcoal suit and blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. There is a glass of some amber-colored liquor in one hand and a pistol held casually in the other. “Ah, yes. My favorite couple, H and Y. Welcome, please join me.”
Hoseok helps you up the small gangway onto the yacht. He maintains a position in front of you as you both approach the stairs leading down where M disappeared. At the bottom of the steps stands J, the burly bodyguard you’ve come to associate with being attached to M at the hip.
“J,” Hoseok nods in greeting to the stone-faced pillar of a man.
“You know the drill, empty your pockets.” J’s voice is gentle and soft, always surprising to you given his appearance.
You and Hoseok turn out your pockets. J confiscates Hoseok’s box of matches and your switchblade. You know you’ll get them back when you leave, but it always leaves a bitter taste in your mouth to be completely unarmed in the presence of M.
The interior of the yacht is just as garishly obnoxious as the outside. It screams money and makes you cringe a little on the inside. “Drink?” M asks standing beside a small card table, hefting up a decanter of honey-colored liquor. It looks like there is a half-finished game of poker dealt out on the table, four abandoned hands all face down beside varying amounts of colored chips. The pistol M had is discarded haphazardly in the middle.
“I’m good, thanks. Did we interrupt anything?” Hoseok asks, nodding to the game. You also decline a drink, better to play it safe that way. The last time you saw someone accept a drink from him, they ended up taking a long trip with a short rope after they insulted the aged whiskey. M is like that, sadistic and unpredictable at the best of times. He’s also completely and utterly untouchable.
“Not at all. Please, have a seat,” M gestures to the lounge couch beside the erected card table. “What is it you’d like to discuss?”
Only after you and Hoseok have taken a seat on the couch does M deign to join you. He throws an arm along the back of the couch, crossing one ankle over the other knee, and eases back, lifting his glass up for a small sip.
“We wanted to cash out for a week, take a trip. After the job last night, it’d be a good idea for us to lay low for a while.” Hoseok offers up the truth, plainly. There’s no use in playing word games with M, he knows everything; somehow.
M nods, taking more of the amber liquor into his mouth. You watch the way the muscles in his cheeks and jaw work like he’s rolling the liquid around in his mouth before his throat contracts as he swallows. “Very well. I’ll cash you both out for a week.” He leans forward slowly, bringing his arm off the back of the couch and his ankle off his knee. His eyes are serious, dark irises glinting in the overhead lighting. “But, there is one thing I’d like for you to do for me, first. A small job. Easy. Do this and I’ll let you have two weeks.”
You both knew this was almost a guarantee, that M would request one more job before you’d be allowed to take a hiatus. That’s just how this business works. To turn down the job would be as good as signing a death warrant. Hoseok gives your hand, still clasped in his, a small squeeze.
“Of course, anything you need.” You give M a pleasant smile, returning the small squeeze from Hoseok.
“I’ll give you twenty off the top, for your cash out and the first week you’re asking for. The job will secure you another thirty and an additional week.”
If it wasn’t for the years of experience under your belt dealing with M, you’d probably have laughed in his face. He’s offering an additional 30k for a small and easy job? That’s a giant red flag if there ever was one.
“What’s the job?” Hoseok asks casually. He’s just as good at keeping his game face on as you. But you know internally he’s probably just as alarmed.
“You know the Park Hotel and Restaurant Kim?” M asks, finally relaxing back again and taking another sip from his glass. His eyes watch the two of you, flicking back and forth like he’s looking for any indication you’re going to lie to him.
“We do,” you answer, sticking with the truth yet again. What worries you is whether or not he’s about to bring up the little boutique you enjoy so much that’s nestled right between them.
M nods. “So, you’re probably also familiar with the boutique called Ricque’s between them?”
Cold dread slithers down your spine. It can’t be a coincidence that M’s bringing up the boutique, where you lifted a several thousand dollar dress from just hours ago and have been frequenting with your sticky fingers for years at this point.
“We know the place,” Hoseok offers up. “It’s a favorite of ours, actually.”
M nods again, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “So, it is true then. You’re responsible for the depleted inventory.” He laughs then, a full laugh that has his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut.
You chance a glance at Hoseok, noting the eyebrow he has raised. He’s just as confused as you are. “Look, if there’s some sort of issue—“ Hoseok begins but M throws up a hand, silencing him.
There are laughing tears in the corner of M’s eyes. He thumbs them away, still shaking with the residual chuckles vibrating from his chest. “Oh, that’s fucking rich. No, no, there’s no issue. Not really, at least.” He sighs, gaining his composure once again. “In fact, this probably works to your advantage since you already know the layout of the shop. You see, Maudette—as of ninety days ago—is my wife.”
