Pairing: Idol, Boyfriend Hoseok X Staff, Girlfriend Reader
Theme: Hurt to comfort au, love quarrel au, Silent treatment au
Word count: 5.5k
Summary:
In which Hoseok yells at you, asks you for space and then goes crazy when he realizes he can never let you go.
Warning: angst, argument, Hoseok is shitty for the first half, reader suffers, jealously, Smut, fingering.
Minors Do Not Interact!
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“Love is always accompanied by loneliness
Despite being together, it can also feel just as lonely”
Music blooms through the huge speakers of the room, the dancers’ loud cheery voices lift up the mood of the rehearsal hall. Even some of your gloomy and tired looking coworkers are now vibing and clapping with the music. Everyone seems to be enjoying the last beats of the day, despite it being ten at night, before going home and concluding the day.
Everyone but you.
Your eyes stay stuck on the one figure that is the center of it all. Jung Hoseok dances like his limbs are made of jelly, like his bones have the flexibility of a sponge and beats match with his rhythm.
He exists like thunder in the sky - luminous, magnificent, scaringly beautiful.
On any other day you would blush to yourself, you would thank all of your lucky stars for making him yours. But today is not any other day - today makes it a month since the rehearsals started.
A month has passed since Hoseok has started acting like you don’t exist.
Now, this is not new. Your boyfriend has always been extremely serious about his work. Whenever it’s the rehearsal season, your time together gets shortened. Rushed calls, small pecks, stealing lunches during work breaks are what is normal during these times.
However, what is unusual is Hoseok ignoring your texts, receiving your calls only to tell you that he is busy and will talk later. It feels like it has been ages since you spent an hour with him, shared food, talked about everything and nothing, gossiped about the company drama. It has been ages since you felt the warmth of his arms, since he has kissed you like he means it with his whole being.
Unlike usual times, his eyes don’t follow you when you two are in the same room, nor does he leave stray touches in the excuse of monitoring moves through the screen. It is as if his affection for you has suddenly dried up.
Or maybe it found a different direction.
You watch him as he high fives with the group of dancers he has recently gotten close to. He loosely hugs the women making them blush. You watch as he laughs with them, jokes with them, being his usual jovial self.
You watch as he doesn’t even look at the direction you are standing in. You watch as he leaves the rehearsal hall with his belongings, without texting you to meet him at his studio.
You get busy tidying things up, rechecking tomorrow’s schedule and preparing yourself to clock out after a particularly long and tough day.
Try as you might, your feet don’t take you inside the elevator. Your heart revolts against you.
You miss Hoseok. You miss him so much that you are starting to tear up right now. He won’t mind if you stop by his studio for a quick hug, will he?
You deserve a hug after a month of ignorance, don’t you?
So, in no time you find yourself at his studio door. Although you know the code, you decide to ring the bell this time.
A few seconds pass before the door opens. His eyes fall directly on yours - an easy smile takes over your face without any effort.
“Hi”, you greet him. However, his face shows no sign of gladness, if anything that stays as stoic as possible and that’s something very very unusual. You start wondering if you have done anything wrong after all.
“Are you busy?” you ask again, given the fact that there’s no reply from his side.
“No. come in.” he replies after what feels like an eternity, removing himself from the doorway. The low rumble of his voice spreads a carpet of chills down your spine. But there’s something laced with his voice - something that’s definitely not want or lust.
You have a very ominous feeling about this. You should be happy but something in your gut tells you to hold your horses.
Hoseok leaves you to close the door behind you and goes to sit on his chair. He starts using his phone as if he has no intention of entertaining you any further.
“Is everything alright? Are you okay?” you start pushing the conversation further, getting the hint that he is not going to be the one to do anything else.
“Yes.” The reply comes short and curt.
Nodding on your own, which he can’t see, you sit down on the couch right behind him.
“Are you going home after this?” The pressure to keep saying something is starting to kill you now.
“Yeah. why?” he still doesn’t swivel his chair to look at you.
You stand up, with just two steps you stand behind his chair and wrap your hands around his neck. He doesn’t react the way you want or expect him to but he doesn’t move away either.
“It’s been so long since we spent some time together, Hoseok. I know you are busy with rehearsals and everything, but can’t you spare an hour for me?”
Placing your head on his shoulder, you push your nose into the crook of his neck. Inhaling his masculine yet comforting scent to calm your fears down.
Hoseok jerks himself out of your hold - your temporary daze shatters like a glass vase.
“I am tired, Y/N. Can you not do this?” he whines as if you have demanded something really serious from him.
You straighten, “I’m sorry. But I just miss you. Am I not even allowed to get a hug? Especially since you have been so distant from me? You barely receive my calls or reply to my texts. I can’t even recall the last time we shared a meal together, Hoseok. You are either working or spending time with your new dancer friends. And it’s starting to get to me.”
Your voice isn’t loud, but it’s not timid either. You know you are not wrong for asking what you are asking from your boyfriend.
Hoseok sighs audibly. He puts his phone face down.
“Just so you remember, Y/N. I have a life outside of you. I am not obliged to spend the majority of my time with you. I need some space to breathe too! Why don’t you understand that?” his voice rises in volume, “each time I check my phone, there is either a call or a text from you. I am not a kid, Y/N, whom you need to monitor all the time. And about my new dancer friends, yes, yes I admit spending time with them. They are fun to be with! We have a lot to talk about, mutual passion and stuff, I can’t talk to you about. Do you get that?”
Each and every word that he spoke pierced straight through your sanity.
Hoseok thinks you are clingy, boring, he needs space, he prefers his dancer friends because you don’t share the same passion as him or them.
Oh.
“Oh. I didn’t know I was bothering you all these times. I- I am sorry.” your voice shakes, tears fill your eyes.
“I am not asking much from you, Y/N. Just give me some space, will you?” Hoseok closes his eyes and leans his head on the headrest of his chair.
“Sure. I am sorry.” you take a step back, then another, then another. Even when you open the door and slip outside - Hoseok doesn’t look at you.
Now, hate is a strong emotion. So, you hardly use the word to explain your feeling towards anything. But one thing for sure is that… You hate crying.
You hate crying for people, you hate being weak to the point where one gentle poke can break you completely.
And currently you are in that very state.
Instead of heading home, you run towards the nearest available restroom. As soon as the stall door shuts behind, you break down. Tears come in a thick trail wetting your entire face, running down your throat, soaking in your shirt.
You wail until your throat hurts from crying too much. By the time you leave the bathroom and exit the building, buses and subways have stopped running and you have promised yourself to stay away from Hoseok’s life as much as possible. Work can not be adjusted. Being one of the production crew during the album formation stage means you will have to see him almost every day.
However, you need to be strong and give him what he wants - space. So, from tomorrow you will only focus on work and ignore his existence the way he has been ignoring yours. If he thinks his new friends are way more fun and entertaining than you, then so it be.
Hoseok can live his life and you will be living yours. For now, the chapter of Hoseok will stay compartmentalized in your brain.
From tomorrow Hoseok will experience radio silence from your end. And that’s one hell of a fucking promise of yours.
Week 1
Thankfully the preparation stage of an album includes a lot of research work and you gratefully take all the responsibilities on yourself.
Researching on album related stuff means staying holed up in the department office and having very little to no filming to participate in. and having no filming means not seeing your boyfriend.
It serves the purpose. Although you end up checking your phone more often than not just to be disappointed with how there’s no text from Hosoek, you are starting to adjust well.
You also get a lot of time to contemplate everything Hoseok had said that day. You kind of hate to admit that he was not wrong about you being boring or less fun than his dancers friends.
What are you even? A very ordinary office worker. A woman in her late twenties, who loves plants and is interested in the stock market.
While the people Hoseok has befriended are colorful, creative, love doing fun stuff, and include him in their tiktok videos, challenges and what not. Just by watching those you can tell Hoseok is really having a great time with them.
There is new content from at least one of them every single day - and each of those has Hoseok. And those are blowing up, benefitting both Hoseok and the company. More exposure during the production means more people are getting intrigued and waiting for the album to release.
So, who exactly are you to object?
You should be grateful for the fact that Hoseok’s eyes have caught you despite you being nothing special. You just should keep quiet and be less privy about what he does in his celebrity life.
Beggars can’t be choosers after all.
By the end of the week, you have accepted your fate and stopped waiting for an apology or at least a text from your Hoseok.
You let life flow and take things wherever it sees fit.
Week 2
The second week arrives - nothing changes.
Except for the fact that you are quite nervous about seeing Hoseok again. Last week you avoided any kind of chance meeting but this week the recording for the second song is to start, which means you need to attend several meetings and see Hoseok, talk to him if needed.
You need to be professional - you keep telling yourself that.
It’s a blessing not to be directly included in the making of the album, you get to choose the furthest corners during the meetings and no one will ever object.
Previously, you always chose the diagonal spot across from Hoseok, those seats always provided you with the clearest views of your boyfriend. And you would catch his eyes in several contacts throughout the entirety of the meeting.
However, you are sure, he will only get annoyed to see you anywhere near him now.
The meeting starts, you see him walking inside the room and greeting everyone. But once he sits down, he is out of your line of sight and you are quite grateful for that.
Because just a sight of him brings back his words from that night, his eyes full of annoyance when he looked at you. You can feel the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away.
You are not going to cry anymore. Not anymore.
Seems like heaven is by your side because you get to stay silent during the whole meeting, taking notes on crucial points, making a rough schedule and all that.
As the meeting ends, you stand up from your seat, asking your coworker to send you the email ID of the sound engineer to notify him of the schedule. You turn your head towards the exit and your eyes meet with Hoseok’s.
He stares at you while talking to one of the producers.
As soon as you catch him staring at your way, you look away and exit the meeting room hastily.
For the rest of weeks, for another two meetings, you make sure not to look at him even by mistake - at least not when you feel his eyes on you.
Week 3
Week three proves to be the most challenging one.
The filming for the first choreography video is scheduled for this week, which means you will have to see Hoseok, and will have to interact with him no matter what.
But most importantly, you will have to go through what you have for the past month yet again. The same ignorance, the same spark of jealousy watching him having fun with his dancers.
You have been taming your ill-feelings. You have been replaying his words in your mind again and again.
And that seemed to help previously, but the moment you enter the rehearsal room with the filming crew and see him stretching, a sudden surge of ache washes your sanity. He doesn’t look at you, of course, you don’t even expect him to. You rather get busy with your work as Hoseok goes through the choreography once before the filming starts.
“Y/N” your colleague taps on your shoulder, “the new photographer is here.” she points towards the guy standing at a corner.
You walk towards him, “Jaehun-ssi?”
The guy smiles at you, bowing in half, “yes, nice to meet you. You must be Y/N.”
You smile back, “Yes, right. Thanks for coming in on such short notice, I had no idea who to call when Shinwon said he was hospitalized.”
“It’s my pleasure. And also, who doesn’t want to be a part of J-hope’s next album." The guy looks at Hoseok in awe. You smile at his reaction.
He is such a polite, cute, young guy, reminding you of your own brother at home. Then you see him bow in a particular direction, when you turn your head to see who he is bowing to, you find Hoseok casually walking towards you.
Your heartbeat matches the rhythm of his steps as he stares at you without blinking. You look away, stepping out of his path and unintentionally standing close to Jaehun.
“I see a new face here” Hoseok comes to a stop right before Jaehun. The younger guy introduces himself but Hoseok’s eyes are on you. Maybe he is asking for an explanation on the sudden change of the photographer.
“Shinwon was hospitalized yesterday with food-poisoning. He referred to Jaehun-ssi. So… yeah.” you don’t look at him, you just can’t find it in yourself to look at him.
“Okay, Y/N-”
“Jaehun-ssi, let’s go, let me give you a brief.” you cut Hoseok’s words without even realizing what you are doing.
“Sure.” Jaehun smiles.
You bow at Hoseok lightly and then leave him standing still. For the rest of the time, before the start of the filming, you avoid looking at him.
Jaehun serves as a great distraction.
Throughout the filming you get so engrossed in managing your own work and helping Jaehun out with his work that you don’t notice how often Hoseok is looking your way.
Usually Hoseok’s practice videos are shot in one take, but today something was off. A total of three takes were needed to perfect things. Then separate shorts for reels and tiktoks were shot. Photos for his instagram, facebook, weverse and other social media channels were taken afterwards. By the time everything ends, the clock strikes seven in the evening.
“It was really nice to work with you, Y/N-ssi. Thanks for all the help.” Jaehun smiles at you while clutching his bag tightly, ready to go.
“Same here, Jaehun-ssi. Hopefully we will meet again.” you smile widely at him.
“Are you free after this? We can grab a coffee-”
“Everyone” Hoseok’s usually loud voice rings through the atmosphere even louder, “thank you for working really hard today. I know I have been a little distracted and made the filming go longer than usual. So, as an apology, I will buy dinner for everyone tonight.” His eyes lock with yours. And again you look away.
“Oh… seems like we are not free anymore.” Jaehun says in apparent delight.
“Yeah, you should go and enjoy the dinner.” you reply to him, collecting your things and preparing to clock out.
“Oh? What about you? Aren’t you coming?”
“No, I can’t. I have some work at home. Gotta go early. Bye.” You wave at him and inform your colleagues that you will be leaving for the day. Although they are mostly curious and concerned because you don’t miss company dinners usually, they don’t ask anything too privy.
You leave the rehearsal hall in haste, heading towards the office to collect your bag and leave.
Right when you are pushing your water bottle inside your bag, you hear someone push open the door of the office floor.
Thinking it might be one of your coworkers, you don’t pay any attention. You turn on your heels to head out, only to crash with a hard chest.
“Ow. What- Hoseok?” your eyes almost bulge out of their socket as you realize it’s Hoseok who you just crashed with.
“Y/N-” he raises one of his hands as if to touch you.
You suddenly recall how he pushed you away the last day you talked to him. The painful and borderline insulting memory forces you to take a few hurried steps away from him.
Hoseok’s eyes widened at your actions, “are you- are you okay?”
“Yeah. I am fine. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” the dull ache that you have been suppressing for almost a month now, starts coursing through your veins in full force.
“I- uh… we're ready to leave for dinner. Are you going to ride with your teammates? Or do you want to come with me? We can make an excuse-”
“I'm not staying for dinner, Hoseok. I have plans already. I need to be home as soon as possible. Thanks for asking though.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. His expression changes in a heartbeat. The lingering smile that appeared sometime while talking to you, is now gone. A frown sits on that beautiful face of his and you have no idea why he's suddenly so disappointed.
He wanted space. You are giving him the same. Why does he want your company now? All of a sudden?
Deciding not to ponder anymore, you bow at him and then try to walk past him.
Hoseok stops you by wrapping a hand around your wrist. Before you can jerk yourself out of his grip, he pulls you towards him and you crush against his chest again.
Hoseok wastes no time in digging his fingers on your waist, pulling you more to himself. He starts leaning down, eyes focused on your lips.
“What- what are you doing? Let me go. Someone might see us.” You try to wiggle out of his grip, but he only holds you tighter.
A smirk plays on his lips, “give me a kiss. I'll let you go, I promise.”
A kiss? A kiss after he indirectly called you boring? No. Never.
Just when his lips are about to touch yours, you whip your head to the other side, successfully avoiding the kiss.
“Y/N…” you can hear the hurt in his voice. He hurt you the very same way, so you try not to feel like a criminal.
“I gotta go.” Getting out of his grip, you walk away. Not looking behind at him is tough but you need to achieve it. This is what he wanted. And you are just keeping his request.
That's all.
If a few tears escape your eyes then Hoseok doesn't need to know about it.
That night Hoseok calls you twice, sends multiple texts but you ignore them. It's not a petty payback. It's just that you're afraid.
You don't know what he will say, how things will unfold between you two.
You hurting him today could be his last straw. He might break things off now, and honestly, you are not ready for it.
Don't know if you'll ever be.
He fucked it up.
Hoseok knows he fucked it up.
He had his head in his ass when he yelled at you, said those mean things that make no sense. For a moment he lost his mind, he forgot how bad he is down for you. For a moment he forgot how empty your absence makes him feel.
Thanks to his dumbness and foolish words, he now feels that same emptiness burning him alive during his waking hours.
For the first week after the fight, he felt nothing. He was still so busy with his dancers, he was having fun. There was a new pub every night, new moves, something new to learn, something new to see - he was way too busy to witness how your texts and calls ceased reaching his phone.
It was one of those nights when he drank a little more than he should have. He took out his phone to look for photos to update on his insta, that is when he realized something was missing.
He complained to you about always texting and calling and checking up on him, but he didn’t really expect you to completely stop.
And then, in his drunken haze, the absence of your “good night”, “get home safe”, “sweet dreams” hit him like a brick. He sat and stared at the last trace of conversation, his decreasing replies and your increasing attempt of getting him to meet you once.
A pang of guilt hit his heart in a flash, and he realized he had been wrong about you being clingy. He basically stopped giving you any kind of attention and you wanting to see him was only a natural expectation from your side.
Deciding to start mending what he broke, the next time he sees you, he closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep.
He twisted and turned the entire night.
The following week he had a few meetings with the production team, which meant you were to be there. And you being there meant he could, maybe, start a conversation with you.
Hoseok even planned a conversation. He thought he would ask you to have lunch with him and then he would bring forth the argument of that day and you guys would talk things out. However, his plans fell flat on their faces as he couldn’t find you at your usual seat in the meeting room.
When he finally managed to get a glimpse of you - you were already preparing to exit the hall. Your eyes met his for a fraction of a second and you pretended like you didn’t even see him and exited the hall without sparing another glance his way.
It hurt.
It hurt Hoseok like a fucking wrecking ball.
For the next meetings, he didn’t even see your face for once.
He was determined to take proper measures and start a conversation with you.
His eyes were on you ever since the moment you entered the rehearsal hall, but he looked away each time you looked at him.
He was about to take his steps towards you just when the new guy walked in, taking your attention and his chance away in just a heartbeat. Still, he didn’t give up, he barged into the conversation you were having with the guy and tried his best to make you listen to him but you were hellbent on ignoring him.
Hoseok could not even concentrate on the choreography for the whole time, his eyes kept going back to you. His internals burned at how the guy was getting all cozy with you and how your attention was on him - only on him - as if you couldn’t see anyone else.
Your attention was his to have. You are his, only his. But he had to fuck things up a big time and now you won’t even look at him.
He had to do something - that is when the idea of a team dinner popped up in his head. He could corner you, apologize and take you to his home and spend the night together.
That seemed like such a good plan in his head but then… you walked out of the hall.
He ran behind you and caught you right before you were about to leave.
“I'm not staying for dinner, Hoseok. I have plans already. I need to be home as soon as possible. Thanks for asking though.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. All of his hopes plunged right into the water. He frowned at your decision. You are so angry with him that you are even ready to skip a team dinner? Something you have never done before?
You bowed at him signaling that you were about to leave, but before you could, he held you back.
he pulled you towards him and you crushed against his chest again. His heart thumped inside his ribcage. How long has it been since he had gotten so close to you? Felt your skin against his?
The last time you tried, he behaved like a jerk and now you don’t seem to be too happy to have him close.
Hoseok’s desires clouded his vision. He held you even tighter, digging his fingernails on your waist. He didn’t even know when he started leaning down, aiming for your lips.
“What- what are you doing? Let me go. Someone might see us.” You kept trying to shake him off, but he wasn’t willing to let you go.
A smirk played on his lips, “give me a kiss. I'll let you go, I promise.”
Your eyes went wide. You looked at him as if a deer caught in headlights. If anything, the fire within him burned even brighter.
Just when his lips were about to touch yours, you moved your face away, avoiding his lips. His lips touched your cheek and his heart broke in his chest.
He can’t even kiss you now? Fuck! Is this how bad he made things between you two?
“Y/N…” his voice trembled. You don’t look at him. His grip loosened and you took the chance to free yourself.
“I gotta go.” you ran away from him.
In Hoseok's defense, you haven't been answering his calls and texts. So, there's nothing left to do but this.
This… standing outside your door wearing a flimsy surgical mask and a ball cap.
Anyone would take him for a thief or a murderer or worse a celebrity, which he technically is.
He rings the doorbell, praying to the god above for you to open and for your neighbours to stay asleep.
It's 1:25 at night, a dangerous hour. His name would make it to the morning news if he's unfortunate enough to be followed by a pap.
However, Hoseok doesn't care about any of those right now. He can't just let you go like this, he can't let you slip through the gaps of his fingers. He would do anything to revive the relationship - he would beg if you want him to.
But first, you need to open the door.
He rings the bell again and waits. A few moments later the door flings open with you on the other side.
You don't look shocked, you don't look sleepy either. If anything, you look furious.
“Have you lost your mind?” Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him in, “what the fuck do you think you are doing here? At this hour? Your manager is going crazy! Why didn't you let him know -”
He doesn't let you finish. He jumps on you, wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in for an embrace.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I treated you that day. I'm sorry for every word I said. I didn't mean any of it. Please… please don't do this to me. Please don't stay angry with me.” He mumbles on your shoulder, ears attentive to every single sound you make.
You sigh, “I'm… I'm not angry with you. Honestly, you didn't say anything wrong.” Placing your hands on his bicep, you push him away a little. He stands before you, tries to search for your eyes desperately. But you just won't look at him.
It kills him from within.
“You are you! J-hope! And who am I? Just no one. It's only expected that you would much prefer a company of your own league. Not someone as simple and ordinary like me. I- I don't know why I thought I could be someone you'd always be interested in. I just- I just don't know.” You laugh, it breaks his heart. “We should break up, Hoseok.”
Hoseok stills. There's no way you are saying this. There's no way you are trying to leave him.
“No. You can't be serious.” He scoffs.
“I am. I am serious about this. I have thought about us… and I- Hoseok what are you doing?”
It's not that his legs have given up, he kneels down on his own will.
He kneels before you, and looks up at you with tears raining down his cheeks.
“I can't. I can't do this without you. I know I fucked things up but I have been dying each time you pretend not to see me, each time you ignored me, didn't respond to my advances. I know it's my doing. I asked for space. I know! I know! Fuck! But I am dying, Y/N. I can't live without you. Please… Please don't break up with me. Please.” His entire body heaves with the force of sobs. He can't see anything anymore, tears have blurred his vision completely.
“Hoseok… Hoseok please stand up.” You hold his arms and hoist him up. Pulling him towards the couch, you sit him down. And then a glass of water is being pushed between his palms.
“Drink it.”
“Y/N-” he cries.
“I'm going nowhere. I'm here. Drink it please.” You rub circles on his back. He calms a little, drinks the water and then looks at you again.
“Please don't break up with me. Please give me a chance.”
Your eyes water as you finally look at him, “okay.” You nod.
He places the glass on the table, peels the cap and mask from his face and whispers slowly, “are you forgiving me?”
You smile through tears, “yeah.”
“Can I hug you now?”
“Yes.”
He closes the distance between you and his body and hugs you tightly. You hug him back.
Hoseok is finally back home.
Week 4
“Hoseok… please… not now” you whine. But your boyfriend is made of stubborn bones. He pushes himself more on you. His tongue drags a strip from your ear to your throat. He nibs on the delicate skin of your neck.
“Don't mark me! We're at work!” You warn, but he still places his teeth sharply, painting bruises right at a spot where anyone can see it.
“Hoseok-” he doesn't say a word, but shuts you off with his lips on yours. He kisses you hungrily. One of his hands sneaks through your t-shirt, pulls your bra-cup down and starts palming your breast. Another of his hands travels south, unbuttons your jeans and plunges inside your panty.
You moan his name.
“Yes, baby. You're mine. Never letting you go ever again.” he says in between the kiss.
You love how he has become the clingy one now. Three weeks of silent treatment and Hoseok can't let you out his eyesight.
Sometimes quarrels, distance, silence and space strengthen a relationship more than constant association can.
bts reaction being very rude towards reader the whole day. please make it angstyyyy
He's being rude ~ BTS Reactions (Hyung Line)
Genre: Angst
Warnings: I'll try to make the scenarios a bit different in each one. quite angsty, lol. brace yourselves. curse words, fights.
BTS Reactions Masterlist || BTS Masterlist
Kim Namjoon:
"So we've come to this now? Walking out of fights?"
Namjoon conveniently chose to ignore your words, continuing to pack his bag quietly.
"Namjoon, can you...can you just talk to me for a moment, please?" you pleaded, running a finger across your eyebrow in frustration.
It had been a long day, and a fight with him was the last thing you wanted, the last thing you needed at this point. But before you knew it, Namjoon and you found yourselves in the middle of an argument over an extremely petty matter, harsh words flying across the room like dirty confetti.
"Babe, just-"
"Don't touch me," he snarled, brushing your hand off of his arm when you tried to stop him from packing his stuff.
"You've said enough, and I can't take this shit anymore. You always do this, (Y/n). You always act as if the weight of the whole world is only on your shoulders and that only you can feel stressed and lonely and everything else you were complaining about today."
"Complaining?" you asked in disbelief, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest at his words. "I just wanted to express my feelings to you, Namjoon! It's been a long day, can I not talk to my boyfriend about my day?"
"You can!" he exploded unexpectedly, turning to face you and giving you a bit of a fright at his sudden movement.
"You can talk to me about your day, you can. But the problem with you is that you don't understand the difference between talking and blaming."
"What do you mean blaming?" you frowned.
"Really?" Namjoon placed a hand on his hip, giving you a look.
"Really, (Y/n)? 'Nobody is even there for me anymore. You're always busy, you can never make time for me. I'm lonely. I can't talk to my friends cuz they're all changed and not the same anymore.'" Namjoon recited your words from earlier. "Shall I continue?"
"How is that blaming? I didn't blame anyone! I just told you how I felt!"
"No, (Y/n)," he shook his head. "This is what you always do. You don't start any conversation with the intention to just vent your feelings. You always jump into how everyone is wrong and only you are the poor soul in the world who is hurt by everyone's wrongdoings. Get over yourself."
"Namjoon," you whispered, not knowing what to say.
Had you really been that way? All you knew was that it had been an extremely depressing and stressful week for you, and every time you tried to talk to Namjoon, he was busy with work. Your friends too began to betray you in ways you did not want to get into at that moment, but the words that Namjoon spoke were nothing less than knifes slicing right through your skin.
He turned back to the bag, aimlessly dumping a pair of clothes and his charger into it.
"You don't always get to play the victim card, (Y/n). Please get over yourself. You're not the only one who has bad days. Are you really that selfish that all you could think about is yourself?"
He suddenly turned to face you.
"Did you not once think about me? Did you never think that even I would want to come home after finally getting some time off from work so that I can talk to my girlfriend about my issues and struggles and maybe feel good about it? I don't ever blame you for not being there? For not asking me about my problems? Do I? Have I said anything until now?"
Your head dipped in shame, not just feeling fully hurt by everything he said, but also knowing that he was partly right. You wanted to make it right, but you did not know how. Yet, before you could say anything, Namjoon zipped up the bag, throwing it over his back and walking towards the nightstand to take his phone.
"You really need to get over yourself. The world doesn't revolve only around you. Stop being so selfish and victimising yourself every single time. I'm not gonna take your shit every time."
Kim Seokjin:
"Babe," you tapped his shoulder as you continued to follow him around the house. "Babe!"
"Yes," he nodded dismissively, not even bothering to turn to look at you as he pulled out random stuff from the cupboard and began to rearrange them in a useless attempt to look preoccupied.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No."
"Then why won't you talk to me?" you questioned, your voice progressively falling into a sad tone with each moment that passed by.
"I am."
"But...but," you looked around desperately, as if it would help you find the words that you wanted so badly to say to him. "But it's not normal."
"It's normal."
"Jin," you whined, walking closer and pulling at the fabric of his sweatshirt. "Talk to me, please."
"I am," he repeated, looking as disinterested as ever as he shut the door of the cupboard and began to walk back to the living room.
"You're being mean," you mumbled, still choosing to follow him into every room that his feet took him to. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
"But you haven't even looked at me properly in the last few hours!"
At that, his movements came to an abrupt stop, his head turning to face you rather dramatically.
"And you still didn't get the hint?"
A low gasp left your chest, plopping down onto the sofa beside him since that was what your plan was before he hit you with this statement.
"For what?"
He chuckled, although it was evident there was nothing that he found funny.
"Maybe I just don't feel like talking to you, or-" once again, he turned to look at you straight in the eye, "look at you...properly. Not everything is about you. Go and, I don't know....live, I guess."
"That's really fucking rude," you spoke, not even caring to hold yourself back. How dare he? After treating you like a stranger for the past few hours, you were not about to take this shit from him.
"Nice choice of words, Jin. You could have told me what you really intended to say, which clearly was to get a life. Why keep that back? You've already proven to be nothing but a butthole for the last few hours, why be nice now?"
"I'm not trying to be nice," he snapped back, but before he could open his mouth to speak again, you held a hand up straight to his face, shutting him up effectively.
"You're telling me to get a life? Alright, cool. Thanks for that, Jin. From now, don't be the amazing boyfriend you were just a week ago begging me to take some time off to spend your holidays with you. And I know that not everything is about me, so hey, go enjoy your amazing life, and I will too. Wasting my time running behind you is clearly what you don't want me to do."
Min Yoongi:
"Yeah, that's fine."
"What's fine?"
"The dress," Yoongi murmured disinterestedly. "Take it if you want."
"Yoongi," you sighed, walking towards the plastic chair that he was sitting on. "Did you even look at me?"
"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes fully trained on his phone as he continued to type on the screen.
"Yoongi!"
His fingers stopped, and you watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"What?"
"Does this look like a dress to you?"
Finally, his eyes trailed over your outfit, noticing that you were wearing a pair of dirty grey jeans and a yellow top shirt with flowers on it. He thought you were wanting to buy a dress for the party that evening.
"Oh," he stated lamely. "Sorry."
"Are you...what - are you even interested?" You asked him in frustration, pulling the hair tie off of your wrist and tying your hair up. The anger that was building up inside of you was beginning to make you feel hot and clammy in the small clothes shop that you brought him to.
"Yeah," he replied simply.
You sighed shakily, not wanting to make this into an argument, yet not knowing exactly how to not do that.
"You were not even looking at the previous outfits I tried, were you? Why'd you say the dress is fine?"
He shrugged, looking back down at his phone.
"I dunno," he mumbled under his breath, "thought you wanted a dress. But this is fine, good thing you didn't go for a dress."
"Why?" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Can you just get whatever you want and then we can leave?" His voice was laced with a tone of annoyance, his eyes naturally drifting to the exit of the store.
"No, what do you mean its a good thing I didn't go for a dress?"
"(Y/n)," he clicked his tongue, running a hand across his face. "Look, it just doesn't suit you, man. I don't know why you have this weird obsession with those kind of dresses, they make you look pregnant."
"What?" You couldn't stop the gasp that left you. "What the hell?"
"No, look, I know how you are. Don't get me wrong, I am not calling you fat. I am saying that the cut of the dress is very weird in the stomach area, it bloats out and makes it look like you're pregnant. I'm not saying you're fat, so don't go down that path. I'm just saying that the dress does not suit you."
"How long have you kept that inside of you, huh?" you questioned him, already feeling too hurt by his words. "It's been a couple of months since I have been wanting those 'dresses' that I know that now how much you think it looks horrid on me, and you only choose to say this now?"
His face changed into one that showed nothing but irritation.
"I knew you'd say something like this. That's why I kept my mouth shut all this time. Can we just go? Or you know what, I'll go. You can continue shopping and get whatever you want."
"What the hell, Yoongi?" you said in disbelief. "Why are you being so rude? What's wrong with you?"
"Look," he sighed, standing up from the chair and looking away from you. "I just wanted to rest, okay? I didn't wanna go out, shopping, movie, lunch, this or that. I didn't want any of that. I even told you. But you insisted and dragged me out here. So don't blame me if I look like I don't wanna be here. Before we left, I told you I didn't wanna go, but you forced me. So deal with it."
"I forced you?"
"Yeah, you insisted and made all those faces and quite literally blackmailed me by saying that I don't love you anymore. You were so wrong to say that, dude."
"I was joking when I said that, Yoongi," you whispered. "I just wanted to go out with you. We haven't been out in almost a month now and we have to go for Hoseok's birthday party anyway, I thought we could get some things for that."
"Well, I didn't, okay? And if you wanted to get stuff for his birthday, you didn't have to say that I don't love you anymore. That's totally unrelated, if you wanted to spend time with me instead of getting stuff to prepare for his birthday, that would be different. I didn't wanna go out, do any of that stuff that you just said. So please, take your time, do all that, I will be in the car."
Jung Hoseok:
Words couldn't describe just how painful it felt to watch Hoseok withdraw from your touch. The people seated at the table fell into an uncomfortable silence, the abrupt action making everyone furrow their eyebrows in confusion and worry.
"I told you to stop doing that, (Y/n)."
"Doing what?" you mumbled rather lamely, not even knowing why you said that when you knew just what he was talking about.
"Stop touching me again and again! God...I-" Hoseok sighed rather loudly, dropping the spoon onto the plate and standing up from the chair.
"Sorry guys, please excuse me."
"Hobi-"
Before you could get out another word, the man was at least three feet away from the table, and all you could do was watch in dismay as he stormed out of the restaurant.
"What's going on?" Jimin asked softly, being the one right next to you. His tone was rather soft, as it was obvious how incredibly awkward and embarrassing this was for you. "Shall I go talk to him?"
"No," you whispered with a shake of your head. "He's just a little sensitive today."
"Did you guys have a fight?" asked Jungkook from across the table, followed by a soft hit to the arm by Namjoon which served as a warning to not cross it.
"Why don't you go talk to him?" the leader suggested, concern apparent in his tone. "We're here, don't worry about us."
"Uh..." you trailed off, looking back at the door to the exit before nodding. "Yeah, maybe."
"Take your time," Jimin urged with a kind smile, patting you softly on your shoulder. "Talk to him, he will understand. Sort it out properly."
With a stiff nod, you stood up from your chair, making your way towards the exit, knowing that all eyes at the table and even around were trained on you.
It took you about five minutes to find Hoseok, who was leaning against the wall of a building further away from the restaurant, and whatever held you back in that moment just...left, a strange sense of shock and urgency fuelling your next movements.
"What the hell?!" you exclaimed, reaching him in no more than three large steps, your hands moving on their own accord as they snatched the cigarette straight out of his mouth.
"(Y/n)!" Hoseok yelled out, his eyes looking down at the bud that was now in a small wet puddle near your foot.
"What's wrong with you?!"
"What's wrong with me?" you repeated, your tone now matching his. "What's wrong with you Hobi? You smoke?"
"Yeah!" He shouted, pushing your arm off of him that went to grab onto his jacket. "Yeah I smoke! With you on my bloody back all the goddamn time, I have to!"
You let his words sink in, subconsciously taking a step back.
"What part of 'stay away from me' do you not get, (Y/n)? I'm not like you! I need my fucking space and if you didn't get the hint until now, let me spell it out for you! Stay the fuck away from me! I don't want to resolve this fight, I don't. I'm fucking tired and I don't have it in me to deal with your bullshit anymore! Just give me my space, man!"
It took a good moment for you to swallow that painful lump in your throat, the tears not even caring to ask for permission as they simply slipped out of your eyes.
In a hopeless attempt at trying to make this better, you raised your hand up mindlessly, wanting to reach out to him.
"It's been three days, Hobi," you whispered sadly, not really knowing what else you could do. At this point, the man in front of you was doing nothing but add to the misery that you were already drowning in. "What more can I do to sort this-"
"I just told you," he spat through gritted teeth, both hands now clutching his hair in complete frustration. "I don't want to sort this out! Let it be this way. If this is the end, so be it! I don't want to do anything about the fight and our situation right now. So just leave me the fuck alone!"
"What do you mean 'if this is the end'?" you cried, your breaths now ragged and harsh. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"Look, (Y/n)," Hoseok blew out air through his mouth, a very clear sign that every part of this moment was irritating him beyond control.
"I said, I don't want to do anything about this right now. We're fighting, I'm crazy mad, you're upset and crying. I don't want to do anything about it. Just let me be. Let us be. I don't want to do anything, neither end it nor make it better. Just...just let me be. Please, stop following me everywhere and calling me all the damn time. I need space, I don't know what else to say to you if this isn't clear enough for you. I don't want to be near you right now."
summary: to everyone else, he was the sun but to you, he was always the moon, the light you grabbed onto when you could see nothing.
note: grief is something very close to my heart, i've always struggled with it but i'm slowly starting to learn to live with it, i hope everyone who's experienced loss feels like some kind of relief through this, thank you for reading <3
masterlist
-
hoseok was sixteen years old when it happened.
you were thirteen.
and he had thought he was too cool for you then.
you were sitting on the other side of the mary-go-round to him, it was the last but one day of the summer camp you were part of, and you looked at him as if he hung the moon in the sky.
and hoseok felt as high as the moon that night.
but he was also sick to his stomach.
"i like you," you didn't look at him as you said it but hoseok could feel that you meant it, that it took a lot for you to get on that mary-go-round with him, spin with him, build the moon in his eyes and then say the words that he believed were stuck in your throat since when you first saw him.
he knew that your brother wouldn't like that you were saying this.
but he knew, even as a kid, that this was the most honest thing anyone's ever told him.
but he was so cool and so close to your brother, who would kill him if hoseok said anything back.
so, he didn't say anything back.
hoseok pursed his lips and looked away. he swears that, to this day, the tears shining in his eyes were nerves and not the frustration that came with not being able to hold you to the moon too.
the silent rejection didn't yet hit your soft eyes and bare heart.
you kept looking at him, hands gripping the handles so tight that your knuckles changed shades between white and pink and your cheeks puffed, excited and nervous breaths still left your lips.
and hoseok didn't want to be cool for a second there, he didn't want to care about your brother at all, maybe he would just let you take him for a bit, just a bit.
but in your thin eyebrows, he saw your brother.
in your veiny hands, he saw your brother.
in your coily, curly hair, he saw your brother.
so, he got off the mary-go-round, he walked away quickly, not pausing to look at you and he sniffed his tears away, he hugged his jacket closer to his body.
tomorrow, he would be fine.
tomorrow, no one would look at him like he was the moon and he would be okay with it.
but hoseok turned around.
the biggest mistake of his life.
the moon you thought him to be, cast a glow on the tears gathering on your chin and his heart wrenched.
he would fix this, he told himself, he would fix all of this.
but the next day, your brother, his best friend, died.
and you never spoke a word to hoseok again.
-
everything was vibrant when hoseok stepped into your home.
the unkept gardens were now blooming with flowers.
the closed windows were now open and giving a glimpse into the light inside the house.
the home was back to being a home.
he’s seen the transformation take place with his own two eyes over the years and he could confidently conclude that the ten years that cloaked your family and home in darkness were finally nowhere to be found.
and hoseok felt both delight and unease at the development.
“oh honey, you came,” there were few people hoseok could recognize with how they breathed, and your mom, his second mom basically, was one of them.
he didn’t even get to greet her before he was wrapped in a hug that surrounded him with the scent of cinnamon, musky perfume, and somehow, still his best friend.
“of course i did, ma” he kissed the top of her head, his arms not letting her go even if he knew the time for an appropriate hug was up, and she knew it too but she stayed as long as hoseok held her.
and when he let her go, he had to look away from the tears touching her eyelashes.
he probably brought back memories of his friend, maybe he still smelt like his friend too, he doesn’t know but he’s glad if he does.
his best friend’s family was unlike hoseok’s, his own family was distant and cold, and when he became an adult, he cut off all ties with them, he simply couldn’t accept them as family and your mom never let him feel as if he didn’t have one.
“the place is really packed,” hoseok whistled, looking at all the new faces and your mom nodded, “she invited a lot of her friends, i don’t know them but it’s okay, they’re having a good time, you’re here, so it’s all good,” hoseok stiffened at your mention.
you didn’t see him once in the last ten years.
slammed the door on his face.
ignored him even when your mom screamed after you.
locked yourself in your room and never got out if it meant seeing him.
and hoseok learned to accept it, he wouldn’t hang out with him either, especially after what happened.
but it was your birthday and he was invited, by your mom or you, he has no idea but hoseok steels himself to see you at some point in the night.
then, he walks around, introduces himself, ignores the pity that people eye’s throw at him, ignores the sympathetic touches on his arm, ignores the pats on the back and the ‘he must’ve been wonderful to have as a friend’ and he nods because he can’t say that yes, his best friend was an incredible friend until he fucking died.
and suddenly, hoseok wants to punch his best friend, for leaving him with this room of people who didn’t know him but somehow had all the sympathy in the world to shove in his face, for leaving him with no option but to mourn and miss him.
but hoseok was never a good mourner, he was good at going about life normally, good at laughing, good at ignoring his feelings, hoseok wasn’t good at gathering tears in his eyes when he thought of his dead best friend.
after a while, hoseok excuses himself to the bathroom and finds himself in his friend’s room, which remains frozen in time. every poster he hung up, though peeling at the edges on the wall, still stayed, every photo he stuck on top of his bedpost was yellow and faded but again, they stayed.
he doesn’t know how long he stares at their photo, the one they took in the summer camp where hoseok’s head is too small and his arms too thin and wrapped around his friend.
when he ran his fingers over the photo, he didn’t feel anything, he was grazing over hazy memories that he was desperately trying to remember as he got older but they were all slipping away or holding on too tightly at times.
“what the fuck are you doing in jay’s room?”
and he snatches his fingers away from the photo.
as he turns around, he swears he feels his heartbeat in his feet, and no amount of time could ever prepare him to face you.
you’re standing at the door with your arms crossed so defensively over your chest that he’s scared to take a single step forward but something about you, as a sixteen-year-old back then and now, a twenty-six-year-old, always takes his breath away.
and you look so much like jay, from the eyes to the hair to the hands, that he has to look away to breathe again.
“hey,” is all that comes out of hoseok’s mouth and he knows he deserves it when you roll your eyes at him.
“you’re not going to slam the door on me?” he asks and to his surprise, you shake your head, “not this time, my mom might just kill me,” you say while entering through the door and hoseok awkwardly steps around the room to reach where you sit on the bed.
he’s not sure how to feel about your mom having to force you to meet him.
and he’s not sure if he will ever be ready to see you again.
maybe you should’ve slammed the door one last time.
“happy birthday, big numbers now,” hoseok sits five feet away from you on the same bed and he watches your face soften the slightest, “thank you, and yeah, twenty-four doesn’t feel real,” you weakly laugh, falling on the bed and letting your feet dangle off the edge.
“your friends seem fun,” he stayed alert on the edge of the bed, and you nodded half-heartedly, “i guess so, did you meet them?”
“yeah, i said hi and stuff,” hoseok played with his fingers as you sat up again, “they brought up jay?”
“um yeah, they seemed to be very...empathetic about it,” he said, he didn’t know how else to say that your friends' reactions almost made him want to leave the party.
“yeah, they don’t know how to react to dead brothers or best friends, they’re not too bad though,” you laugh again and hoseok just nods, looking away.
for a moment, there’s only silence.
there’s only your breath and his.
there’s only your heartbeat and his.
and hoseok had missed this, he had missed you.
“can you believe it’s been ten years?” he asks because he can’t, he still feels as if it was yesterday that he got the phone call from you.
“i can,” you whisper, “time has been slow for me, so i can,” you’re the one looking away this time and hoseok catches your eyes roaming on the photos stuck above jay’s bed.
“do you want to go downstairs?” you get up from the bed and meet his eyes properly for the first time since you entered the room and he can do nothing but nod.
just before you step out the door, hoseok grabs your hand, immediately dropping it as you stop, “a-are you okay?” he didn’t want to ask you the question that he knows everyone else did but he also wouldn’t sleep that night without asking.
but when you laugh and disappear downstairs, hoseok ends up not sleeping anyway.
-
“thank you so much for coming by,” hoseok shook his head at your mother with the broadest smile and sweat coating his forehead, “of course ma, you can call me whenever you need help,” he pressed a kiss on the top of her head as he passed her and she pushed her face into his arm.
your mom owned a local restaurant and usually, handled everything from deliveries to cooking to serving and hoseok had chastised her multiple times about it.
even now, looking at the full restaurant, hoseok knew he couldn’t leave her to it.
so, after pushing her into the kitchen, he manned the counter for a while and made light conversation with whoever came by.
it felt strange, after so many years, being back around jay’s family, being back in this restaurant where he spent many days and nights.
he shook his head, refusing to let the memories creep back in.
he was used to this, this was just a routine to him, he always helped out, and he knew jay would do it if he was here.
“she loves you a lot already, you don’t have to do all this,” your voice isn’t something he’s used to though, not here, and hoseok’s palms start sweating immediately.
fuck.
he didn’t even put on a good outfit today.
or even perfume, now that he thinks of it.
and he curses himself when you come into view.
“i do this because i love her a lot,” he says with a smile and you roll your eyes, “yeah i know, it’s annoying,” and he frowns, “why?”
but you just wave a hand at him and go into the kitchen.
and hoseok’s left with ten people waving their bills and money at him, so he plasters a smile on his face and continues working.
after some time passes, you come back out from the kitchen with a scowl on your face and hoseok knows this because he hasn’t stopped his eyes from flickering between the kitchen door and the counter in front of him.
“i’ve got it from here, move,” you bark at him as you reach him and hoseok’s frown deepens at you, “it’s only a couple of people, i’ll finish it, don’t worry,” he reassures you but it only seems to irritate you.
“this isn’t your job, hoseok, just move over,” the glare on your face makes hoseok throw his hands up in the air and step away from the counter.
and he goes to the kitchen, he hugs your mom goodbye and he doesn’t bother with saying anything to you while he leaves because he’s sure you will only curse at him. he’s too exhausted today.
but imagine his surprise when the clock strikes midnight, you are at his door with a few soju bottles, snacks, and a sheepish smile on your face.
what the fuck were you doing at his home?
“um, hi?” he adjusts his t-shirt as he greets you, suddenly too aware of his messy hair and pajama pants as his heart once again beats away from his body.
“can i come in?” you ask sheepishly, and he immediately moves away. as you look around his apartment, hoseok still finds it hard to believe that you’re here.
even as you set up the table with soju glasses and food, he can only follow you in a daze.
“come, sit,” you say as if it wasn’t his home, his table, and his chairs but hoseok obliges and sits down.
a few minutes pass with both of you just fidgeting, looking at and away from each other, scratching your necks, and rubbing your fingers together.
until you finally grab the soju bottle and inch toward him.
you take a deep breath in and hoseok lets one out, “i shouldn’t have been so rude at the store, it’s just,” you speak as you pour soju into a shot glass for him and he sits up in his seat, “jay used to be there all the time.” you swallow, moving the bottle away from him and pouring one for yourself too.
“i was there all the time too, you know that,” hoseok says gently, as if to a child and you nod, “yeah, but it was always you and him, not just you.”
always you and him.
not just you.
and the memories that hoseok tried so hard to keep in his head, started creeping their way onto his sneakers and jeans and slipping away like sand.
the nights they snuck in to steal the leftovers.
the days he spent munching down on snacks that your mom generously gave him and jay.
the evenings where they both fanned each other with rolled-up magazines.
the days he spent admiring you at the counter.
but he couldn’t remember the dates, he couldn’t remember the details like what he was wearing that evening when jay hit him with a wooden fan, what was jay wearing when he got dumped by his girlfriend and cried to hoseok, what would jay think of this moment right now, you in front of him with a couple of soju bottles that were bound to be empty soon?
he shifted in his seat, “i won’t come over anymore, i didn’t know you felt like this,” and you purse your lips, “don’t do that, hoseok.”
“do what?” his eyebrows draw closer and you put down your glass to stare at him straight, “be so understanding and nice, just tell me to fuck off and deal with my shit instead of taking it out on you, hate me a little bit because this isn’t fair to you and you know that too.”
hoseok is stunned to silence for a second.
and he has a feeling that these words weren’t just some sudden outburst, you never spoke without letting your thoughts settle so he knows you’ve felt this for a while.
when he catches your wobbling lip and the way you shove food into your mouth to stop the movement, he knows he’s right and his heart softens even more.
“i’m not going to hate you for missing your brother, y/n.” is all he says before he slides your glass towards him and pours you a shot too.
and for a second, you just eye the glass and then look at him with tears so heavy in your eyes that hoseok is surprised they haven’t rolled down your cheeks.
“i think you’re the only one who doesn’t,” you suck in a breath and take the shot, you barely feel the liquid burn down your throat or the tears that finally release from your eyes.
when he raises his eyebrows at you, you shrug with a sniff and look away.
for the rest of the night, hoseok tries to forget that this was exactly how you looked on the mary-go-around ten years ago.
tears on your jaw.
flushed cheeks.
the same coily hair.
for the rest of the night, hoseok stops himself from falling in love again.
-
“again!” your mom threw her hands up in delight after winning one more game of ludo that hoseok had brought over.
you groaned and complained loudly to her, face held up by your elbow and hoseok watched with warm eyes as you and your mom argued about the win.
but he also felt acutely, the empty cushion next to him.
“you’re just a sore loser, learn a thing or two from hoseok,” your mom brought him back to the world, unscathed from his best friend’s haunting.
and hoseok nods proudly, dissolving into giggles when you scoff at him and your mom high-fives him.
“you’re letting her win,” you stare pointedly at him as your mom leaves to bring more snacks and hoseok shrugs happily, “guilty as charged,” and ducks with a laugh when a shower of peanut shells gets thrown in his direction.
“i knew it!” you screeched and he fell onto the floor with a belly full of joy, “mom, i told you, he was letting you win,” you stomped into the kitchen and hoseok heard more sounds of an argument from the kitchen, he rolled his eyes in endearment.
that night, you drop him in your car, and the entire ride, you’re laughing, he’s laughing, you’re speaking nonsense, he’s speaking nonsense, you’re falling on the seat to cover your face and he’s pulling his hands over his eyes to cover his face.
and at his door, you look at him with a face so free of everything.
no lines of worry on your forehead.
no frown between your eyebrows.
no hesitance to smile.
just a hint of moonlight falling over the right side of your face and some of your hair.
and hoseok wonders if he looks the same, if he looks just as beautiful and calm.
but when you keep staring at him with those curious, those tender eyes that he feels you reserve just for him, as if he has the answer to everything, as if he was the answer to everything, hoseok’s heart races in panic and buried love.
both of you realize at the same time, that ten minutes had passed and you were about two inches closer than you were at the beginning of the ride.
he stumbles out of the car, you stutter a goodbye to him and he nods hastily, urging you to leave.
that night, once again, hoseok begs himself to stop falling in love.
-
you only called him once in the many years that he’s known you and it was to tell him that jay had died, it was a freak accident, no one could’ve done anything and hoseok had thought that it was all a dream but your voice, as always, rang true in his ears and he knew that his life, as it was, would change forever.
“hoseok, i-it’s jay, someone hit him with a bike, i don’t know what’s going on, they’re saying they can’t read his pulse, please just come here, p-please.”
your sobs had shaken him so badly that he stumbled out of his camp cabin in his pajamas and he held your mom’s hand the entire time they tried to resurrect jay in the emergency room but once jay flatlined, your mom crumbled in his arms and you ran out of the hospital, you refused to look at him after that night.
and he understands why, he should’ve been there for jay, he should’ve made sure that his best friend didn’t go out for a walk that night or he should’ve gone with jay and been the one to get hit instead.
but it was all over now, and all hoseok was left with was a heavy heart filled with enough guilt for all the years he would live.
so when hoseok’s phone rang in the middle of the night with your name flashing on his screen, his brain unearthed the entire tragedy, the entire night with its roots pulled out of him and he was gasping for breath as he answered.
could it be that something happened to your mom?
did something happen to you?
did something happen to him and everyone else knew but him?
“she’s not letting us call her mom but she said your name, can you come to pick her up?” and twenty minutes later, hoseok pulled up to the only nightclub in the neighborhood to pick you up.
he struggled to hold back a laugh as he saw you draped over your friend’s arms, blissfully drunk, giggling, and utterly exhausted. when he started walking over to you, all of your friends began groaning and complaining to him about you which only made it harder for him not to laugh until your entire weight was shifted onto him and hoseok closed his eyes when you buried your face in his neck, savoring the tender moment.
just like every other minute that he’s alone with you, hoseok can’t believe this minute either.
“i’ve got her from here,” he says, carefully shifting your body to make you more comfortable and you hum in your drunken state, pushing your cheeks further into his collarbones and hoseok tries not to freeze.
“you should join us next time!” your friends all chime in together, their enthusiasm and kind intentions bleed around them and touch hoseok’s heart, maybe he had been too quick to judge them and hoseok gives in, nodding unsurely and they all erupt in cheers which makes him smile.
you had good people around you.
and that made him the happiest person in the world.
as he waves goodbye to them, his hands hold your body closer to him when you start to slide off and all of them exchange looks which hoseok ignores.
he carefully puts you in the passenger seat and pulls off the sidewalk.
he turned up the air conditioner, feeling his body get warmer and warmer as the seconds passed and he forces himself to look at the road and not you.
“hoseok?” the red light glowed on your face when he looked towards you, “yeah, it’s me, just taking you back home,” he doesn’t stop his hands from moving your hair away from your face and caressing your temples with his fingers.
how many years have passed with him missing you?
how many years of loving you has he missed out on?
he doesn’t know how jay would feel about this, maybe he would gag at hoseok’s tender eyes at this moment, perhaps he would tease him but he knows jay wouldn’t hate it.
hoseok pulls back almost immediately as you start to shift, only to relax when your face melts into his fingers.
if it didn’t feel so wrong, hoseok would’ve sat the rest of the night just looking at you and letting the rest of the world pass by.
“don’t take me to mom’s,” you whine and he laughs at your scrunched-up face, “okay, where do you want to go?”
“your’s,” you mumble, and hoseok’s face goes red, it takes him a few minutes and several cars honking at him to come back to earth.
when hoseok carefully lays you on the side of his body and takes you to his bedroom, he bears the torture of your arms tightening around his neck and the torture of your lips accidentally brushing on his skin.
“you like me, right?” you whisper into hoseok’s ear as he covers you with blankets on his bed and he freezes.
when he doesn’t respond, your eyes flutter open, still soft and fuzzy from the alcohol and you ask again, “hoseok, you like me, yes?”
and he’s taken back to the you that asked him out on a mary-go-around, the you that gave him the most honest confession of love in his life, the you that looked at him as if he ripped your heart out.
he nods, “of course i do, we’re family.” and you frown at him.
then, you sit up on the bed and lean forward to hold his face in your hands, hoseok starts sweating under the thin t-shirt he wore, and your fingers touch his face in places that he’s sure didn’t exist before, and every nerve of his melts and burns.
“i’ve always wanted to ask you something,” he says, now that there was no distinction between his breaths and yours and you nod, urging him to go on, “i thought i was always the one who had something to say,” you giggle, falling on his shoulder and hoseok laughs with you.
“why did you start talking to me again? after all this time? it can’t just be because of your mother,” and your laughter vanishes from the air around him, your touch too lifts from his shoulder, and hoseok’s confusion and curiosity grow.
he knows he’s asked the wrong thing, and said the wrong thing, he always does, but why would this question make you so upset?
he just wanted to know why after so many years of ignoring his entire existence, you suddenly chose to come to his home, and suddenly back into his life.
but he also loves that you’re back in his life.
“you don’t have to tell me, go to s-“ he gets up from the bed but is stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist tightly and he sinks back down beside you.
“my reasons are selfish, hoseok,” your tears come back and hoseok is rushing to wipe them away before they ever leave your eyes which only makes them gather faster.
“i don’t care,” he shakes his head and he really doesn’t.
“you should.”
“but i don’t.”
use him, don’t use him, throw him away, or keep him, he’s okay with it all.
your eyes search in his face, any trace of a lie, any trace of dishonesty and you find none that urges you to say, “i need you.”
a strange rush of warmth and bashfulness washes over hoseok as your words run him over.
“it hurts so much and i can’t do this alone, i need you, i just want it to stop hurting,” and hoseok’s heart stops at your broken voice because he knows what’s hurting you and nothing in the world can fix that kind of pain, “i don’t know how to live anymore, every time i come home, i miss him in the space next to my mom, i miss him in the counter that you stand at now, i miss him everywhere and i can’t say this to anyone.”
hoseok barely feels your hands grabbing his as your sobs climb up your throat, “except you, hoseok. no one knows what i feel, it’s pathetic that i miss him still but so do you, i know you feel this too, right?”
and he knows, he knows exactly what it feels like and he also knows that this was building in you since over the past ten years, the same way it’s been building in him.
that sense of loss that never goes away.
that sense of waiting for the relief that comes with moving on, that never came.
that sense of having nowhere to go and cry it out because the rest of the world doesn’t see what it’s lost, only he can and only you can.
“i do,” he finally choked out and your cries grew louder, hoseok winced at the volume and tapped your arms to calm you down but he was barely calm himself.
years and years of his grief catch up to him, run him over, trample over him and his mind ignites with every single second he spent with jay, every single he spent missing jay and then ignoring his memory.
all of it grabs him by the throat and chokes him but he lets your head fall onto his shoulder, and keeps his own tears away from his eyes as your body breaks on him.
when you were kids, hoseok had held you when you were laughing, he had felt your joy go through him, spread onto him, he could feel your happiness as if it was his own.
when you laughed in the car with him, the sound jogged his memory on how to laugh, on how to feel happiness again, he felt it go in and out of him in waves that he couldn’t control.
it was a miracle to him that just by touching someone, you can feel what they feel.
but now, holding you when you were crying, feeling every tear on his own skin, the burden of it all sunk him deeper than he could pull out of but he held you, he wrapped a singular arm around you and buried his head in your hair.
if anyone was going to know that he cried about jay, it was you and if anyone was going to miss jay with you, it was him.
and that night, he let himself fall in love.
-
the next morning, hoseok woke up with swollen eyes but a happy heart, a less lonely heart, he got up from the couch and entered his bedroom where he spent several minutes just staring at your face and stopped himself from kissing your cheek.
he stepped out of the bedroom quietly, padding his feet as gently as he could on the floor, and started preparing pancakes, hot chocolate, and everything else he could remember as something you liked as a kid.
hoseok couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he whisked the batter, stirred the hot chocolate, and put out the plates. every moment that passed reminded him of you in his bedroom, it made him feel fuzzy and warm and ticklish, as if the sun had come to sit on his shoulder.
finally, his life was falling into place.
he almost jumped in excitement when the sound of his bedroom door creaking echoed throughout his apartment. he peeked around the corner to see you dragging your feet with even more swollen eyes than his and he stifled a laugh.
“good morning, pretty,” hoseok sang and giggled when your groan came as a reply.
“what’s all this?” your eyes barely opened to see the spread of food in front of you and he shrugged, “just some breakfast for you, did you take the aspirin beside the bed?”
you nodded and stood unsurely until hoseok got up and pushed you to sit down gently, “sit down, it’s all still hot, have it soon,” he kissed the top of your head and you stiffened under him.
hoseok quickly stepped away, laughing uncomfortably, and sat down as well.
for the next few minutes, he waited as you took in everything in front of you and his heart raced the entire time.
did he do too much?
was he moving too fast?
but he had already wasted so much time over the years, he wasn’t going to make the same mistak-
“why?”
hoseok frowns at your question, leaning forward to see if he heard it right but when he looks up, he sees your tear-filled eyes and he knows he’s fucked up somehow.
“w-what happened?”
“why are you doing all this?” he doesn’t know if you’re asking him or accusing him of something.
“what do you mean?”
“why.are.you.doing.this?” you punctuate every word with quick breaths and hoseok knows he’s pissed you off.
why or how he’s done that, he has no idea.
“i thought some food would be nice in the morning, especially with your hangover,” he stumbles over his words because he didn’t think he would ever have to explain why he made breakfast for someone.
you stay quiet.
he says your name.
once.
twice.
thrice.
then, you get up from the chair and look at him with both the most anger he’s felt in someone and also, the most pain, “i can’t do this,” you mumble and in the next minute, hoseok’s door is left wide open and your seat is empty.
he watches the food go cold and tries to hold himself together as he clears everything up, all the warmth he felt in the morning disappeared down the same drain that his food went.
and all he could was watch and let it happen.
-
weeks passed and hoseok dipped in and out of the restaurant, trying to see you, catch a word with you, and try to fix things, but whenever you saw him, you ran away.
whenever he waved to you, you would hesitantly lift your hand and then look away, engaging yourself with someone else.
whenever he called you, you wouldn’t pick up.
his messages remained on delivered.
and hoseok’s heart broke little by little as he saw you intentionally pull away from him.
he couldn’t understand why, you had such a beautiful night together, you had poured your heart out to him and he had done the same to you but somehow, it was as if that night didn’t exist to you.
maybe he read it all wrong?
maybe you just needed him as someone who felt the same as you, who experienced the same grief and here he was, his heart growing wings and the love he buried blooming again.
but you had loved him ten years ago.
and that confession was still fresh in his mind, still the most honest thing he’s heard in his life.
maybe he was stupid for ever thinking that you still felt the same love from ten years ago?
but as his mind replayed your words, ‘i need you’, it didn’t make sense to him that suddenly, you wanted to push him away.
“take these when you go home,” your mom packed him multiple boxes of side dishes and rice and everything else she could cook throughout the day and he nodded, thanking her with a kiss on her head, and headed for the door.
until he heard your voice.
his entire body froze at your presence.
but he’s had enough.
hoseok turned around and started walking with loud steps towards the kitchen, and when you came into his vision, he didn’t feel the warmth or the love or any of the good stuff.
he only felt the hurt that blinded him that morning, he only felt the pain spearing his heart as he threw everything away, he only felt the loneliness that played with him until the late hours of the night.
hoseok knows he’s not the best person but he also knows that he didn’t deserve that.
“you asked me that day, why i was doing all that. let me ask you now, why are you doing this?” he glared right at you, and in the corner of his eyes, he saw your mom glance between the two of you and then duck out of the kitchen.
he will apologize to her later.
in front of him, you tilted your head at him and tried to appear tough by crossing your arms across your chest and staring back at him.
but hoseok is past this, he’s tired of being lonely but he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to feel lonely when he’s in love.
“look, i don’t know what’s going through your mind and i never will until you tell me, but you can’t do this to me, you can’t push and pull whenever you like, i know you’re hurting somehow but i am too, so figure yourself out and then come to me because i know that i’m not alone in this feeling, i know you feel it too.”
with that, hoseok marched out of the kitchen, hugged your mom on the way out and went back to his empty home, where he might’ve felt lonely but he at least didn’t feel miserable.
you will hopefully find your way back to him.
but if you don’t, hoseok’s just going to have to find a way to be okay with that too.
-
days passed again and hoseok tried to move on.
you didn’t call or message or try to reach him and he took it as a rejection, which was still okay, he would still be okay.
he busied himself with his work, with your mom’s restaurant, and tried to learn how to cook, tried to liven up his apartment with knick-knacks, he took up arts and crafts.
hoseok did everything he could think of and for the most part, he really was okay.
but he also really wasn’t that okay.
he drifted through the days, pushed you out of his mind, and drank a bit from time to time to forget you only to hover his finger over your contact every night, he still kept the blanket you slept on in the corner of his room and not in the laundry basket where it should’ve been.
but still.
he was okay, he told himself, he would go back to some version of himself which was okay.
hoseok walked to the restaurant with his head down, earphones in and counted his steps because he had nothing else to do.
when he reached, he still didn’t look up, he continued to his counter where he removed his hoodie and put on an apron, humming to himself and cleaning the counter up.
until your mom’s shoes came into his view and by the time he looked up, she had grabbed his arm and started shaking him which made him frown.
he looked up to see her tear-streaked face and echoes of her sobs that traveled from her hands to him and the desperate shouts he could only see with his earphones in.
his hands shakily reached up to remove his earphones and then he heard it.
the heart-stopping cries and yells.
hoseok’s eyes went round with panic and he immediately grabbed her body as she fell onto him, he tried his best to soothe her but seeing her tears, was already choking him up.
he tried to keep his panic at bay as he patted her back and tried to make sense of her babbling.
what if something happened to you?
he couldn’t deal with that kind of grief; he wouldn’t survive it.
“she hasn’t picked up a single call,” something did happen to you, and hoseok bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his sobs.
“ma,” he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes, “please breathe with me,” she nodded, timing her inhalation and exhalation with him and when her sniffles subsided, she told him, “she ran away this morning, i’ve looked everywhere and i’ve called everyone, no one has seen her, i don’t know what to do and the police aren’t doing anything until she’s gone for a day but you know her, she never does this.”
she rambled endlessly to him and hoseok held onto her the entire time, feeling only a bit hurt that she never called him but that wasn’t a concern right now.
at the end of it, he offered her a glass of water, removed his apron, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before heading straight for the door.
“hoseok,” he stopped at her voice, “i only didn’t call you because i know you two aren’t doing well right now, otherwise you know you’re like my son.” and hoseok melted, he smiled and took her hands as he said, “don’t worry about that ma, we’re family, you keep calling people and i’ll try to find her.”
he didn’t know what to feel once he stepped out of the restaurant.
in the restaurant, he could focus on reassuring and comforting your mom, he could place all his energy into caring for her but now, he was alone and he didn’t know what to feel.
hoseok got into his car only to realize he didn’t know where to fucking begin, you could be anywhere by this time, even a different city but he has a feeling that you were not too far.
but he didn’t know that with certainty either.
every thought he had only put him in a chokehold as his mind reeled with every worst-case scenario.
nevertheless, he put his fears aside and started the car.
the next few hours, he drove in every street, looked in every club and café, kept checking his phone some one million times, and stopped at the entrance of his summer camp where his life seemed to begin and end.
jay would’ve had a panic attack if he was here with hoseok right now, hoseok smiled as he thought of how worried jay would’ve been and how he probably would’ve cursed you out after finding you, how he would’ve hugged you and hoseok in relief, how he would never let it happen again.
jay would’ve been so many things if he was still there with hoseok and that killed hoseok every day.
he kept staring at the entrance where he ran out of the day jay died, where he held back his tears and shook his head and told himself that it was all a lie, that his best friend was still alive.
hoseok threw his head back on his car seat.
grief was so unfair; it took away so much and left him with so little.
if it was so hard for him, he couldn’t imagine how much more angry or sad grief would’ve made you over the years.
and just as he blinks back tears, his phone rings and he runs his hand over his face to answer it, “ma, i’m still out, don’t worry, we’ll find her,” he starts reassuring only to hear nothing on the other end.
“hello?” he frowns.
“hoseok?”
and he almost drops his phone in relief.
“god, are you okay?” he immediately sits up, starting the car again, “where are you? i’m coming to get you right now, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“why aren’t you home?”
“huh?”
“why aren’t you home right now?”
“are you at my place?” hoseok frown becomes even deeper and he knows your silence only means one thing, he sighs out, “stay there.”
and he’s turning the car, calling your mom to tell her the news, and feeling a hundred different emotions as he reaches the lane of his apartment.
right by his door, he finds you, sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest and the rocks slid off his shoulders, he feels air enter his chest at the sight of you, unharmed and safe and breathing and…alive.
he doesn’t know why he’d even thought as far as you being dead but he couldn’t help it.
it was midnight but the moonlight, as always, found you and your tears, and hoseok sat right next to you and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“why didn’t you say anything back?” he hears you mumble and he frowns, “when?”
“that day in summer camp, when i told you i liked you, why didn’t you say anything back?”
and hoseok sighs, the secret he’s held in his heart for as long as he remembers, starts crawling up his throat, “i like you too,” and his lack of using the past tense has you sitting up straight, tears now reduced to sniffles.
“you do?” and the way you ask it almost has him hitting his own head, how did he ever let you think otherwise?
“i would be crazy if i didn’t,” he smiles weakly at you, his heart suddenly exposed and raw and beating louder than it ever has before, and you fall back on the wall, “but you just walked away then.”
and hoseok knows he can’t hide it anymore.
“i didn’t say anything because i went to jay,” hoseok recalls how cold the night was, how quick his steps were to reach his best friend and he watches your face light up and fall, all in just seconds.
“i needed to ask him if it was okay, i needed to tell him that i liked his sister and that i wanted to take care of her, and he didn’t like it,” hoseok shakes his head, a strained laugh leaving his lips, “we fought all night, but i guess he saw how much i meant it, so he gave me his blessing,” he looks up at you and you’re closing your eyes, letting your head fall back.
“he gave us his blessing, y/n, he did and that’s why i’ve never given up on you, he was so dramatic about it, you would’ve hit him if you saw him say it,” he laughs, the memory still so fresh of jay hugging hoseok and whispering to him that he would be dead the next second if he ever hurt you, how jay stopped himself from smiling as he thought of you with him.
he kept that close to his heart and never told anyone about it, it was for him and jay until today but now, it was for you too.
every time he felt bitter over the years that you avoided him, hoseok reminded himself that he loved you and he always will, and jay would love that hoseok loved you.
and you’re holding back sobs that still escape and tear into the world.
“i’m sorry,” he hears you say and he hums before placing your head on his shoulder, he tries not to cry when he feels your sobs, he sniffles and looks at his feet.
“i was so scared that morning, i told you everything i’ve never told anyone the night before and you still treated me with love, i thought you would tell me to leave, that you would finally have had enough but you didn’t and it still scared me. you shouldn’t be in my life hoseok, i will ruin you,” his heart sinks and hoseok moves closer to you because he doesn’t know where he belongs if it’s not beside you.
“i don’t want to be anywhere else,” he says and presses his hand to the side of your head.
“i can’t stop missing him, hoseok, i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you shake your head and he sighs, feeling his throat close up.
“i miss him too.”
“but it’s been so long and i feel like i should move on by now, i don’t know,” you mumble, your tears falling into his shirt and skin.
“jay’s not some ancient history but i think he would hate both of us for being stuck like this.”
“i don’t know another way to live.”
“neither do i,” he shrugs, he knows how lonely he’s felt, how solitary his life was but, “but it will always hurt, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, you lost a brother, a companion for life, i lost a best friend, my soulmate and it’s always going to hurt. but i don’t want either of us to be alone in that pain, we don’t deserve that.”
life can take everything away from him but if we had a few good people and he could love those people, that was enough for him.
“it’s about time we start living for jay, do everything he would’ve done, feel everything he would’ve felt, and keep him alive, don’t you think so?”
and when you nod, fall on his shoulder, and whisper your love to him, it’s just like the first time, the most honest words he’s heard in his life.
hoseok knows his life can sometimes feel empty but sometimes, like right now, it can feel so full that he wouldn’t know what to do with all the love he gave and received.
he whispers his love back to you.
until dawn, you cried on his shoulder, and in the morning, hoseok made breakfast for you, you kissed him and whispered your thanks, he kissed you and whispered his love again, and you smiled and ate the food he made.
and it was calm, normal, another day but everything had changed once again for hoseok.
because this time, he had you and you had him, and in both your hearts and minds, you had jay.
and you learned to live life again, with love, and not just regret, with happiness, and not just guilt.
you lived, not just to grieve and mourn, but to actually live and build a life, with hoseok right by your side.
-
taglist: @blissingtaehyung @cuteipat @hobicorewhore @yoongleskitten @mrjeonghan @greenie-frog @avawants2havefun @an-ever-angry-bi @alyenorgondorwarrior thank you all so much for liking the preview, i hope you enjoy the full fic <3]
Genre: fluff, headcanons, just a bit of angst because you were rejected
Request: Hello! Can you please write headcanons for BTS (they have a crush on the reader) reacting to the reader being sad after finding out that her crush (a coworker or a friend) is in a relationship with someone else?
Warnings: none?
A/n: this was inspired by the "secret crush" series by @7ndipity a bit. If you do not allow this, please let me know and I'll delete this post right away!
Jin
Your friend
That's all Jin wants to be for you right now
Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least an ounce of hope when you said that your friend, your crush, was now dating someone else
But at the same time, he'd hate to show interest in you when you're so vulnerable
So he settles in being only what you need right now: a shoulder to cry on
I believe he'd be the one to wait the longest to tell you how he feels, scared you're not on the same page just yet
Suga
His mind is a mess right now
Nothing breaks him more than seeing your eyes without its usual shine
But he had been praying for the day where you fall out of love with your co-worker
So he really doesn't know how to react right now
He chooses to listen to you talk about how you found out everything and about how you're feeling
Will try to forget his feelings and focus on being the best friend you could ask for now
But as soon as you feel better and your feelings for your past crush start to fade, he might try to make subtle moves on you, scared someone else could catch your attention again
J-hope
I see this going on a slightly different way
He found out about your crush's relationship before you
He just knew you'd be heartbroken
So he tries to let you down gently, saying that maybe the guy wasn't this big of a deal
But when the time comes and you're inevitably sad after finding out, he tries to comfort you as much as possible
Is very hesitant on being flirty right now though
Besides being sad, he'd hate for you to be confused because of him
Namjoon
Honestly, for a second he even forgot he liked you
His mind went blank the moment you texted him about how you were in need of comfort right now
Will fulfill his role as your friend and, before you even notice, you were already laughing through your tears at something he said
Just later that day that he realises what this can mean for your relationship
He finally had a chance now!
Waits for a while though, planning exactly what he wants to do
Jimin
He feels so bloody guilty and selfish right now
Because he's your friend! And you're sad right now!
He should be only focusing on how to make you happy again
But knowing that this means you'll have to eventually move on from your current crush just gives him so much hope
Obviously, he will try to hype you up
But as soon as he can, he will try to make you see him in a different light
Taehyung
Relief floods over him the moment you tell him the news
He was so scared of what could've happened if your crush were to reciprocate your feelings
He had to hold back his smile
Hangs out with you immediately to try to make you forget things for a while
Is already making a plan on how to confess
But for now he's focused on making you feel better
Even thanks your crush with literally no context at all
Jungkook
Deadass smiled when you told him about the situation 💀
Don't get him wrong, he's not happy because you're hurt!
He's happy because he might have a chance now
But he at least was able to hide (part of) his happiness in front of you lmao
And now he's 100% dedicated to make you smile again
He wasn't even that cool, you could find someone better than him anyways
Either way, he makes it his personal mission to distract you from that other guy and make you realise that maybe you're better off without him
And if he ends up being extra boyfriend material throughout it, it was purely a coincidence
Masterlist | you'll probably like: secret crush (by the author I mentioned in the a/n)
Before we fall (Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader x J-Hope one shot)
Summary: One night, one mistake, and the foundation cracked. Loyalty became betrayal. Friendship became suspicion. Love became something sharp enough to draw blood. And by the time the truth came out, none of them would recognize the people they used to be.
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female !Reader x J-Hope (Jung Hoseok)
Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of infidelity, emotional conflict, and mature content that may be distressing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
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Jeon Jungkook was the kind of man who filled a room without trying all confidence, ambition, and that effortless charm that could talk a deal into signing itself. He built his days on phone calls, meetings, and contracts, stacking success like poker chips. But when you’re chasing the next win, you don’t notice the quiet losses. The dinner plates cleared without you. The candles blown out alone. The smile of the person you love fading into something you only see in photos, and that person is Ari, Ari had been his anchor for three years. She knew the rhythm of his days, the smell of his cologne even when he wasn’t home, the way his voice softened when he was half-asleep. She kept their shared life warm while his world spun faster and further from hers. She told herself it was temporary just another busy season, just another deal to close until the spaces between them became more familiar than his touch. Jung Hoseok was the other half of Jungkook’s empire, a man who could take the sharpest edges of business and smooth them into something easy to trust. He laughed easily, spoke gently, and remembered details other people forgot the sugar in your coffee, the name of your dog, the song you said reminded you of summer. He was engaged to Ari’s best friend, and together they were planning a wedding everyone said would be perfect. But sometimes, perfection is only the part people are meant to see. Lianne had been Ari’s best friend since their university days late-night ramen runs, crying in bathrooms over men who weren’t worth it, celebrating each other’s wins like they were her own. She trusted Ari with everything, the same way she trusted Hoseok when she slid her grandmother’s engagement ring onto her finger. She didn’t believe in happy endings because she thought she didn’t need to she was already living hers.
They laughed over shared dinners.
They toasted champagne at holidays.
They called each other family.
It was easy to believe nothing could shake them.
But every story has a tipping point a moment where something small becomes something dangerous. A missed anniversary. A fight that leaves words unsaid. A door that opens to the wrong person at the right time.
One night, one mistake, and the foundation cracked.
Loyalty became betrayal.
Friendship became suspicion.
Love became something sharp enough to draw blood.
And by the time the truth came out, none of them would recognize the people they used to be.
The scent of rosemary and garlic clung to the air, warm and inviting. Candles flickered across the small dining table Ari had been fussing over for the past hour. The lasagna was still in the oven, wine chilling in the bucket, and the playlist she’d curated was soft in the background low enough to talk over, romantic enough to feel intentional.
It was their anniversary.
Ari sat on the couch, knees tucked to her chest, phone in her hand. She scrolled aimlessly just to keep herself from staring at the clock.
He’s probably on his way.
She checked the time again.
9:12 p.m.
Her chest tightened.
The front door finally opened. Jungkook stepped in, black blazer draped over his shoulder, tie loosened like he’d just escaped a meeting.
“Hey,” he said, distracted, setting his keys down. He didn’t notice the candles. Or the table. Or the dress Ari had changed into an hour ago just for him.
“You’re late,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, work went long. Investors from Hong Kong—” He paused mid-sentence, glancing at his phone buzzing in his hand. He replied to a message before continuing, “—needed a last-minute call.”
Ari swallowed. “Did you… forget what today is?”
Jungkook looked at her like she’d just asked him the square root of a color. “What?”
“Our anniversary.” Her voice cracked. “Three years.”
His jaw tightened. “Babe, you know how important this deal is. Why are you making this about—”
“Because it is about us!” she snapped, standing. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, Jungkook! I cooked, I waited, I—God, you didn’t even remember.”
“Ari—”
“No.” She grabbed her bag, shoving her phone inside. “Don’t follow me.”
And she was out the door before he could get another word in.
The night air was sharp, biting at her skin as she walked aimlessly down the block. Her hands shook as she fished for her phone, calling the one person she knew would always take her in.
“Lianne?” Her voice wavered.
“Oh my God, Ari? What’s wrong?”
“I… Can I crash at your place tonight? Please?”
“I’m not in town,” Lianne’s voice softened. “But my place is yours. Hoseok’s probably home, though. You know how he is — big softie. Just knock, he’ll let you in.”
Ari hesitated. Hoseok — Lianne’s fiancé — was nice, maybe too nice. Still, anywhere was better than walking back into that apartment.
Hoseok was in the kitchen when he heard the knock. He expected a food delivery, maybe a neighbor. But when he opened the door, Ari was standing there — eyes red, shoulders hunched.
“Ari?” His brows knit. “What happened?”
She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Lianne said I could stay.”
He stepped aside immediately. “Of course. Come in.”
The warmth of the apartment hit her, along with the scent of something savory on the stove. Hoseok motioned toward the guest room, but when he saw her trembling hands, he stopped.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
She shook her head, then sighed. “Maybe after a drink.”
The wine was meant to soothe, but after the second glass, Ari’s words started spilling. About Jungkook’s absence. His neglect. How she’d felt invisible for months. Hoseok listened really listened without glancing at his phone, without defending Jungkook, without changing the subject.
“I don’t know when I became… not enough,” she whispered.
“You are enough,” he said firmly. “He just forgot how lucky he is.”
The room felt smaller. Closer. Ari’s gaze lingered on his mouth a second too long. Her chest rose and fell, the ache in her heart blurring into something hotter, heavier.
He didn’t answer with words.
The first kiss was tentative a test. But when neither of them pulled away, it deepened. Her glass hit the counter with a soft clink, and then she was on it, his hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer.
“Hoseok…” You breathed out his name in a low, husky tone and Hoseok just reached up and placed his hand on your neck, tilting your head firmly so that you were looking to the side. You swallowed, as he held you firmly in place, nibbling down the soft skin on your neck. The feeling of his lips against your soft, sensitive skin had you letting out a shaky moan. Hoseok chuckled against your skin, a dark chuckle that had your thighs squeezing in arousal. He kept his hand on yourjaw, as his lips trailed up your neck and to the base of your ear, his deep voice sending rapidfire shivers throughout your entire body. “You’re a mess for me already aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear. His voice, his fingers locked firmly against your jaw, had you nodding. You were all too aware of the way you were starting to throb in between your legs, your body yearned for him and you knew it, he even knew it.
“God, yes,” You confessed, Hoseok chuckled again and leaned in with his lower body, pressing himself harder in between your legs. You could feel him- the stirring erection in his pants against your now throbbing pussy. He slowly began grinding against you, his hips moving rhythmically, and you swallowed. You had seen it in the park earlier, the way Hoseok could move, fluid and then sharp, and he was doing exactly that against you right now.
He hummed again against your neck in satisfaction at hearing you whine each time he rolled his hips into you. “You’re a fucking mess,” He continued, punctuating his words with slow, purposeful thrusts of his hips into you. Your mind was a wild mess of thoughts “Such a needy slut,” He continued, his voice dipping lustfully as he slowly nibbled down the stretch of your neck, pressing a hard kiss against your pulse point. Hoseok hadn’t done that before, kissed your neck. He kissed your neck with firm kisses, hungry touches, and you felt your hips buck slightly.
“Hoseok..” You whimpered out his name desperately. Hoseok picked you up from your waist, lifting you and settling you onto the counter. You were so far gone into your arousal that you could barely think straight, your eyes locked on him as he approached you.
“Hoseok, please,” You whimpered. “God you’re hot when you’re whining out my name like that,” Hoseok almost snarled out the words as he let his hand fall from your face. His long fingers gripped your thigh, pulling your legs in so that you were wrapped around him. Moving with a feverish urgency, you wrapped your legs around his waist and let out a softy strangled groan as he continued to slowly, tantalisingly rock his hips into you.
“What, do you want me to beg for you?” You panted out, your voice shaky, as Hoseok glanced up at you. From this angle where you were sitting on top of the kitchen counter, you could see Hoseok’s face, the curves of his shoulders as he gripped your thighs. You felt your core start to slowly throb harder from seeing him stare at you, like you were meal he wanted to devour. His eyes were darkened with lust and he bit his lip slowly, and you realise that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted you to beg. You tensed your thighs and looked down at him, matching the intensity of his stare. “Please Hoseok,” You lowered your voice and gazed at him, enjoying seeing the way his eyes flashed at your words. “I want you so badly, I’ll do anything, please… please give me your cock…” He let out a soft groan and ran his hand over your breasts, hungrily and desperately. He wasn’t delicate, or careful, but you didn’t want that, not now. You felt like your whole body was about to implode from lust and you wanted relief, hard, immediate relief.
The feeling of his hands roughly running over your breasts and feeling of his hips thrusting into you was almost too much to bear. You reached behind you and grabbed at the hem of Hoseok’s shirt, tugging it off over his head. You let out a sigh seeing his bare chest, the muscles in his arms were tensed from his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you in tight to him. He glanced up and met your gaze, a smirk darting across his face.
“What’s the matter, princess?” He said in a sarcastic tone, you met his gaze breathlessly. “You’re so fucking hot,” You admitted. Hoseok’s eyes widened a little in surprise at your answer, as a devilish smile spread across his face. “Is that so,” Hoseok murmured, as he tugged up at your shirt roughly so it was pulled up at the top of your chest. His hands found your breasts, squeezing them lustfully. You let out a little cry at the feeling of his strong hands massaging you, as he leaned down and pulled at your bra cup, exposing your nipple. He let out a moan as he latched his lips over your nipple and sucked, his eyes locked at you. He hadn’t done this before with you and the feeling of his lips and tongue on your nipple, his hands around your breasts as his hard cock throbbed between your legs was insane.
“Hoseok, fuck,” You gasped out, your legs bucking out slightly as he grabbed at your breasts harder, illiciting a loud moan from you. He pulled at the hem of your shirt aggressively, obediently, you held your arms straight above your head as he pulled it off in one smooth motion, andthen your bra, which fell to the floor. You were all too aware of the heavy thud between your legs, the wetness of your slit a heady reminder each time Hoseok grinded against you.
The stiffness of his erection that strained against the fabric was pushing against your wetness, driving you to the absolute edge of your arousal. He leaned down and cupped your breasts, burying his face between them and biting down on the soft flesh of your breast teasingly before returning his attention to your nipple. He took it back in his mouth and you stared down at him, unable to hold back the loud moan the escaped your lips. You tipped your head back, and he reached up, wrapping his fingers loosely around the base of your throat. Your voice hummed against the presence of his hand against your neck, you moaned out his name like you were praying, the urgency in your voice was that of a prayer. The pent up tension was getting to the point of almost unbearable urgency. Hoseok stepped away from where he was standing between your legs and tugged off your pants and your underwear aggressively, desperately.
He unzipped his pants and stepped out of them in one smooth motion, leaving his pants and underwear on the floor. You sucked in your breath as you took in his body. He was lean and muscular, his abdomen taut, his chest heaving slightly with each breath. Your eyes fell on his strong thighs and his cock, which was hard and standing up straight, God he had a beautiful cock, long and thick, and you bit your lip, dragging your eyes up to his face. His hair had fallen in his eyes and he stared at you with the same cocky, confident expression that always seemed to light a fire deep in your core.
“Put that pretty little hand on my cock,” He commanded, stepping closer to you. You immediately obliged, wrapping your fingers around his length. A small shudder went through your body as you pumped your hand up and down his cock, enjoying the way his eyes fluttered closed with each movement of your hand.
You knew he was enjoying this, delaying fucking you, getting you soaking wet with desperatio. But you also knew by the way his eyes lingered on your breasts, and the way he licked his lips that he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer either.
But still, you were desperate, and you decided two could play at this game, a desperate whine escaping your throat.
“Hoseok please… I want your cock,” You pleaded, Hoseok’s eyes darkened in lust at your words.
“Spread those legs for me,” Hoseok snapped out, stepping away slightly and you obliged immediately, Hoseok just smirked. “Look at you. Your legs spread like a good dirty slut for me.” He said slowly, in a low, even voice as he stared at you. You were so aroused you could feel it everywhere, all over your skin, in every cell of your body. “You have such a fucking great pussy…” Hoseok continued, his tone appreciative, his voice roughened in want. He stepped closer to you and put his fingers in between your legs, teasing the hood of your clit and making you hiss. Your legs twitched involuntarily and Hoseok reached up, locking his fingers around one of your thighs and staring up at you with a knowing smirk.
Keeping his eyes on you, he continued to slowly tease your now swollen clit. The sensations were intense, and you felt like you were going to scream. Hoseok stopped teasing you, slowly inserting one long digit inside of you. He let out a little groan, feeling your wetness around him.
“You’re soaking wet for me,” He murmured, before sliding another finger into you. You couldn’t help the cry that came out of your mouth, it felt like your pussy was keening for him and his touch. He was surprisingly slow, slicking those two fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm. Your gaze darted down to your pussy, your breath caught in your throat seeing his long fingers pumping in and out of you.
“You like watching me fuck you with my fingers don’t you?” Hoseok teased, his voice coming out as a low, rough growl, as he used his thumb and ran it over your taint. You hissed in for breath desperately, feeling your body start to tremble.
You felt a shiver run down your spine and you nodded. Hoseok pulled his two fingers out of you and sucked them clean, staring at you intently then entire time. He stepped towards you and lifted you off, your feet settling on the ground beneath you. And just when you were about to protest, he whirled you around and bent you over, so that your stomach was flat against the cold marbled counter top Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed the sides, steadying yourself, and realization crept in that you were moments away from getting what you so badly wanted and been deprived of from your boyfriend of 3 years, and the one who is fulfilling you is your best friends fiancee.
“Hoseok, I want you so badly,” You moaned out. “I need your cock. Please fuck me, please.” You couldn’t stop the begging from coming out of your mouth, the carnal desire you were harbouring was growing so intense that you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by it. It was almost as if you couldn’t see straight, all you could see was him, his name, his voice, and the heavy thud between your legs.
Hoseok gripped your hips with his strong hands, running his palm roughly over your ass before he positioned his cock at your soaking wet slit. He was still teasing you, even now, and you let out a strangled, almost pained moan. “Good little needy slut,” Hoseok groaned, and slid himself inside of you. You felt your toes curl taking in his entire length, you let out a shaky moan at the release, at feeling your walls being stretched out. He thrust into you with hard and slow rocks of his hips as he eased himself inside of you, letting out soft groans of his own.
“Your pussy feels amazing,” He grunted out, and gripped your hips harder. He started thrusting into you with no reservations, each thrust filled the kitchen with a loud slap of his hips against you, with the accompaniment of your loud, keening moans. You were filled with it, want, for him. All the teasing had pushed you to the point of an almost animal fierceness, you wanted Hoseok to fuck you, to slam his body against yours until you couldn’t think about anything but him.
“Fuck me harder, please Hoseok,” You pleaded out, your voice coming out as a rough cry. Hoseok chuckled darkly and reached down, picking up your calves in his hands and positioning you so you were no longer touching the tiled floor with your feet, your ankles wrapped backwards around him. He gripped your hips and pumped into you hard and fast, almost using your body to fuck himself, and the feeling was immense, the trifecta of pleasure and release and satisfaction running through your body.
“Yeah you like getting fucked like this?” He panted out, “From behind, bent over on my kitchen counter? God you’re dirty, fuck I fucking love it…” He accentuated his words by reaching down with one of his hands to squeeze your ass, letting out a loud groan. “How does your pussy feel this good?” He thrust into you harder, deeper, holding your hips in place. He was going so hard that you could feel it in your core and you moaned loudly in approval.
Hoseok reached up and entangled his fingers in your hair, tugging so that your head tipped back, your moans getting louder. You were completely his like this, wrapped around his cock, getting fucked out by him, and the thought of that just turned you on even more.
“Fuck I’m close already,” Hoseok grunted. He pulled himself out of you and lifted you up again, propping you on the floor. He pulled your hair away from the nape of your neck, exposing it, before his lips were there, kissing, biting, nibbling. His hands roamed around to the front of you, his fingers playing with your nipples.
You leaned your head back against him is shoulder, your eyes closed in arousal and bliss. “Hoseok,” You panted out. You turned and tugged on the back of his neck, sitting down on the ground and lying down. The concrete was cool and hard underneath your naked body but you didn’t care, you were too feverish with desire. Hoseoks lean body followed, he hovered above you, one eyebrow cocked.
“On the floor?” He asked in a low voice, a smirk on his lips. You nodded frantically, you wanted to feel his body on top of yours, see the look on his face as he fucked you. “You’re such a dirty little bitch aren’t you,” He teased, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he reached down and ran his fingers along your arms, pinning your wrists above your head. You let out a shaky gasp and Hoseok’s smirk just grew.
“You look good like this,” he told you, slowly sliding his cock back inside of you. You let out a small moan at the feeling of it.
“All mine.”
You nodded, moaning out his name. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at him, his face his slightly sweaty hair falling into his eyes, the intensity in his face, the way his eyes pierced into yours. This is what you wantedhis stare, he stared at you like he wanted to devour you, and it turned you on so much you could hardly breathe.
Hoseok started to grind his hips with each slam of his cock into you, reaching that same easy rhythm that he was grinding into you before. It was a tease, the perfect kind of tease- he was inside of you, deep against your walls, his cock arched up and hitting your g spot, and then he was pulling away, making you breathless and desperate… and then he was inside again. You could feel it, the hot flash of anticipation and pressure.
“God… I’m going to… I’om going to…” You stammered wildly, Hoseok glanced at you, his jaw clenched slightly.
“Good,” He growled. “Cum for me, cum around my dick like a good girl…” His husky voice had you toppling over the edge and your core tightened, the release flowing through your body like cool water.
Your muscles tensed and you moaned out, Hoseok let go of your wrists and you were raking your hands down the broad canvas of his back, mewling out desperate soft moans, calling out his name as you rode out your orgasm. It was all you could think, his name, chanting in your mind and beneath your eyelids in the wake of the incredible orgasm, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok.
Hoseok slowed his thrusts into you, sighing in pleasure. “I love hearing you cum it’s so hot,” He panted out, his words were coming out rapidly, desperate and quick, and you knew that he was close.
“Saying my name like that while you cum around my dick, fuck…” He thrust into you harder, faster. “I’m gonna cum soon…” Hoseok told you. You were still high from your orgasm, so high, and you smiled at him blissfully.
“Fuck!” Hoseok exclaimed, his milky seed shot out of his cock, Hoseok let it a long moan as he fell forward, his body collapsing beside yours ,his body twitching and trembling from his orgasm.
“God…” He groaned, hoisting himself up onto his arms. He gazed over at you, the ropes of his cum on your face, and let out another moan. “Jesus fucking Christ look at you,” He murmured weakly, a smile on his face as he forced himself upright.
“Fuck, wow,” He muttered, swaying a little as he went into one of the closet in his house. He was back in a few moments with a towel, he bent beside you, his thighs quivering from exertion as he carefully cleaned up your face, dabbing at you with a gentleness that surprised you.
For one night, Ari wasn’t lonely. For one night, Hoseok wasn’t the man waiting for someone else to come home.
And somewhere in the city, Jungkook was still oblivious.
Ari woke to the unfamiliar weight of silence.
Not Jungkook’s steady breathing beside her. Not the low hum of his phone notifications at 3 a.m.
Instead Hoseok’s bedroom ceiling. The faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets.
For a fleeting second, she let herself close her eyes again, pretending nothing had happened. But the sting of memory returned — the wine, the kiss, the heat between them.
She sat up quickly. “God…”
From the kitchen, she heard the soft clink of ceramic. Hoseok was up. When she stepped out, he was leaning against the counter in a T-shirt and sweats, coffee in hand. The same easy smile, but his eyes gave him away — they’d barely slept.
“Morning,” he said carefully, like the word might shatter.
Ari hugged herself. “I… shouldn’t have—”
“I know.” He cut her off gently. “We were both hurting. It happened. But it ends here.”
She nodded, but the guilt already felt like a living thing in her chest. By the time she’d showered and dressed, Hoseok had called her a cab back to her place. Neither of them saw the figure across the street — a neighbor, phone in hand, pausing just long enough to snap a blurry photo through the drizzle: Ari stepping out of Hoseok’s building at 7:42 a.m., hair still damp, Hoseok watching from the doorway.
Three days later…
Jungkook hadn’t brought up their fight. If anything, he was softer as though he knew he’d crossed a line.
“I booked us dinner Friday,” he said one night over takeout. “No phones. Just us.”
Ari smiled faintly, relief mixed with unease. “That sounds nice.”
But every time his hand brushed hers, she felt the ghost of another touch.Lianne’s flight landed earlier than planned. She dragged her suitcase into the apartment, calling out, “Hobi? I’m back!”
He emerged from the studio room, heart skipping. “You’re home early.”
“Storm hit Jeju, flights got shuffled,” she said, dropping her bag. “God, I missed you.”
Her hug was tight, warm, familiar — and all he could think about was Ari’s lips. That night, as Lianne scrolled through her phone, she said casually, “Ari texted me she stayed here while I was gone. Thanks for taking care of her.”
“Of course,” Hoseok replied, keeping his eyes on the TV. “She seemed… upset.”
Lianne frowned. “About what?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t say.”
At brunch that weekend, the four of them met Lianne and Hoseok, Jungkook and Ari.
It should have been normal. But Hoseok’s gaze lingered a second too long when Ari laughed at something. Ari’s fingers trembled slightly when she lifted her glass.
Lianne noticed. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes flicked between them once, twice. Filing it away. Somewhere in the city, a woman sat in a dim café, scrolling her gallery. She paused on a certain photo: Ari stepping out of Hoseok’s building in the early morning, hair damp, his shadow in the doorway.
She smiled slowly. This would be useful.Two weeks passed. Ari avoided Hoseok, and Hoseok buried himself in work with Jungkook. On paper, nothing had changed. Until one late night at the office, Jungkook glanced up from his laptop. “Hey, I heard Ari stayed with you while Lianne was gone.” Hoseok’s pen stilled. “Yeah. She needed a place.”
“She didn’t say why.” Jungkook’s tone was light, but there was something probing underneath.
Hoseok forced a smile. “Couple’s fight, I guess. You know how it is.”
Jungkook chuckled. “Yeah… guess so.”
But later, as Jungkook drove home, the thought lodged itself in his mind:
Why didn’t Ari tell me herself?
And that night, Ari found an envelope slid under her door. No name. Inside was a single photo grainy, but unmistakable.
Her. Hoseok’s building. Early morning.
Her stomach dropped. Ari’s fingers trembled as she held the grainy photograph. Her mind spun through every worst-case scenario, her heart pounding loud enough to drown out the sound of traffic outside.
She shoved the photo back into the envelope, half expecting it to vanish if she looked away. But it didn’t. It stayed. Proof. Evidence. A weapon.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number:
We should talk.
A second later, another message:
You and Hoseok. Tonight. Rooftop bar on Sixth. 8 p.m.
Her throat went dry. She didn’t reply.
Across the city, Hoseok sat in a meeting with Jungkook, running through quarterly projections. On the surface, everything was normal. But his mind wasn’t on numbers it was on the text Ari had sent him an hour ago:
A photo. Someone knows.
His pen tapped restlessly against the table.
“You good?” Jungkook asked without looking up.
“Yeah. Just tired.” Hoseok forced his tone casual.
Jungkook hummed in response, but his eyes narrowed slightly. That was the second time this week Hoseok had been… off.
8:00 p.m.
The rooftop bar was quiet, the wind sharp enough to carry away small talk. Ari sat at a corner table, arms crossed, scanning the entrance until she saw her.
The woman from the café. Short hair, a leather jacket, a slow, knowing smile.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” the woman said, sliding into the seat. “Unless you make me.”
Ari swallowed. “What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing too dramatic. I just think… secrets like yours shouldn’t be wasted.” The woman leaned forward. “You and Hoseok look good together. Shame if someone else saw.”
Ari’s voice dropped to a whisper. “How much?”
The woman’s smile widened. “I’ll let you know when I need something. Consider this… an open tab.”
That same night, Lianne was on the couch, scrolling through her messages, when she noticed Ari had viewed one of her Instagram stories at exactly the same time she was supposedly home with Jungkook.
And Hoseok? He hadn’t answered her last two texts, claiming he was “wrapping things up” at the office.
A flicker of doubt settled in her chest.
Two days later, Jungkook and Hoseok were in the company parking garage after a late meeting.
“You know,” Jungkook began casually, “Ari’s been… weird lately. Jumpy.”
Hoseok gave a careful shrug. “Maybe she’s still mad about your fight.”
“Maybe.” Jungkook leaned against his car, studying him. “Funny thing though she never told me she stayed with you. Found that out from Lianne.”
Hoseok’s grip tightened on his briefcase. “Guess she didn’t think it mattered.”And By the end of the week, Ari had received two more messages from the blackmailer. Small, almost insignificant demands sending a confidential company file, “accidentally” tipping off a reporter about a competitor.
She complied. Each time, her chest tightened, knowing she was digging a deeper hole.
She didn’t tell Hoseok. She didn’t dare. Lianne came home early from a shoot, keys in hand, expecting to find Hoseok alone. Instead, she found Ari in the kitchen sleeves rolled up, rinsing a mug.
“I thought you were with Jungkook tonight,” Lianne said slowly.
Ari froze. “He’s working late.”
“Ah.” Lianne’s eyes swept the apartment, her voice deceptively light. “Funny how you always seem to drop by when I’m not here.”
Before Ari could answer, Hoseok stepped out of the hallway, his smile too quick, too smooth.
The silence between the three of them stretched like a live wire.
And within That night, Jungkook was lying in bed scrolling through his phone when a notification popped up — a news tip in his inbox from an anonymous source. It was a blurry photo.
Ari. Hoseok’s building. Early morning.
His stomach dropped.
Jungkook sat in his car outside Hoseok’s building for a full minute before getting out. The photo on his phone was still burned into his brain — Ari, stepping out of here like she belonged.
His jaw tightened as he took the elevator up. The doors slid open, revealing the hallway to Hoseok’s apartment. He didn’t knock. He just walked in.
Ari was at the counter, sipping tea. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Jungkook—what are you—”
“Cut the crap,” he snapped, holding up his phone. “What the hell is this?”
Hoseok, who had been in the living room, stood slowly. “What’s going on?”
Jungkook’s gaze flicked to him, dark and dangerous. “You tell me. My girlfriend… leaving your building early in the morning. Why?”
Ari’s hand tightened around her mug. “It’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Jungkook’s voice cracked, raw with betrayal. “I knew something was off. The late nights. The way you avoid talking about anything real—was it him?!” He jabbed a finger toward Hoseok.
The front door swung open. Lianne stepped inside, grocery bags in hand, freezing at the sight of them. “What’s happening?”
No one answered. Not right away.
“Lianne,” Jungkook said, voice shaking with fury, “you should ask your fiancé why my girlfriend was sneaking out of his building before sunrise.”
Lianne’s gaze snapped to Hoseok, searching his face for a denial. His silence was the only answer she needed.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
Hoseok’s mouth opened, then closed. His shoulders sagged.
Lianne let out a hollow laugh — the sound of something breaking. Then, in a flash, she turned to Ari.
“You—” Her voice cracked before she could finish. The grocery bag slipped from her hand, apples rolling across the floor. And then she slapped Ari across the face, hard enough that the sound echoed in the apartment.
Ari gasped, one hand flying to her cheek, but didn’t fight back.
“You were my best friend,” Lianne’s voice shook with rage and grief. “I trusted you. I defended you. And this is what you do to me?”
Ari’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I—”
“Don’t you dare,” Lianne cut her off. “Don’t you dare try to explain this to me.”
The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. And then Jungkook moved.
Without warning, he closed the distance between himself and Hoseok and drove his fist hard into his jaw.
Hoseok stumbled back, nearly hitting the wall. “Jungkook—”
“You slept with my fucking girlfriend, Hyung!,” Jungkook spat, his voice low and shaking with rage. “My girlfriend. My family was supposed to be safe with you.”
Hoseok touched his split lip, his eyes dark. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” Jungkook cut in. “You both did.”
The room crackled with fury — Ari’s tear-streaked face, Lianne’s shaking hands, Hoseok’s clenched jaw, Jungkook’s heaving chest — all of it seconds away from another explosion.
“It wasn’t planned,” Hoseok said, his voice rough. “We were both—”
“Both what? Lonely? Drunk? Don’t feed me that bullshit!” Jungkook’s hands curled into fists.
Ari finally spoke, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Lianne’s words were like knives. “You betrayed me. You both did.”
And then — a buzz. All four of their phones lit up at once.
Unknown number:
Since we’re all finally in the same room… enjoy the show.
Seconds later, their phones dinged again — a link.
Jungkook clicked it without thinking. His screen filled with security footage. Ari and Hoseok in the kitchen, wine glasses on the counter. A kiss. Then more.
The air was sucked out of the room.
“You recorded this?” Ari’s voice cracked, eyes darting between them.
“I didn’t—” Hoseok began.
“It wasn’t me,” Jungkook growled. “Who the hell—”
No one moved. The four of them stood there, the only sounds the hum of the fridge and the faint traffic outside.
And in that moment, each of them realized the same truth:
This wasn’t over.
It had only just started.
The living room still smelled of betrayal after the confrontation.
A broken wine glass lay in the corner, red staining the carpet like a wound. Lianne’s hand still stung from the slap she’d landed on Ari. Jungkook’s knuckles throbbed from punching Hoseok.
No one had spoken in what felt like an eternity.
The buzzing of Ari’s phone cut through the silence.
She reached for it, but Jungkook snatched it first. His eyes scanned the screen, brow furrowing.
A single text.
UNKNOWN: It’s been fun watching you squirm. Now it’s time to pay. 50 million won, or the footage goes online.
Hoseok’s head snapped up. “What footage?”
Ari’s stomach turned cold. She didn’t have to ask. She knew.
The kitchen counter. The bedroom. That night.
Lianne’s eyes darted between them. “You recorded yourselves?”
“No!” Ari’s voice cracked. “We didn’t know—”
“That’s not the point,” Jungkook barked, tossing the phone onto the coffee table. “Someone has it. Someone saw you. And now they’re going to ruin us.”
By the next morning, the fallout had already begun.
Jungkook was gone. His clothes, his laptop, his toothbrush—packed up without a word. Ari found his apartment key left on the dining table with a single note:
We’re done, Don’t call me.
Lianne didn’t even wait until sunrise. She took her engagement ring off and left it in Hoseok’s palm, cold metal biting into his skin. “I can’t marry a man who looks at my best friend like that.”
The door slammed, and the apartment felt cavernous, as if the walls themselves recoiled from him.
Two days later, Hoseok and Ari sat across from each other in the dim light of the kitchen—where it had all started. Neither could eat.
“This can’t get out,” Hoseok said quietly, his voice hoarse. “If it does, it’s not just our lives—it’s the company. Jungkook’s career. Lianne’s reputation. Mine.”
Ari stared at the blackmailer’s text on her phone, her thumb hovering over the reply button.
“What if we pay them?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Once you pay once, they own you forever.”
The air between them was thick. Not with longing, not anymore—but with the shared knowledge that one wrong move would destroy them both.
The final message came at 11:47 p.m. that night.
UNKNOWN: Clock’s ticking. By tomorrow, everyone will know.
Ari’s breath caught. She looked at Hoseok. His jaw was tight, his eyes cold.
“What do we do?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. Not right away.
Instead, he picked up his phone, scrolling to a number Ari didn’t recognize. He hesitated for just a second—then pressed call.
And as the line rang, Ari realized the truth:
They hadn’t escaped the fall.
They were still falling.
Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.
Genre: Fallen Angel Au | Angst, fluff, smut (mdni), horror (V lowkey, I swear)
Word Count: 30k
Masterlist
Please read these warnings carefully!!
Warnings: Homelessness, Kidnapping (? is it though??), Suicidal ideation, referenced and described abuse and murder of a child. Hoseok is his own warning. Mc gets drugged and then she gets sick... A bit of religious babble, mc has nightmares (one of which is actually kinda bad...), she almost dies at one point. Hoseok likes playing mind games, but they aren't serious (Honestly debatable...). Implied gang activity and violence. Hoseok contradicts himself a lot, he's really confusing. Smut: oral ( m and f receiving) soft dom Hoseok, i think Hoseok has an oral fixation (or is it ME, the author?????) unprotected sex.
Notes: Phew, welcome!! SO, it's finally here!!! I'm so excited to share this project with you alll! It was such a big project for me, and so much time and effort went into it. Believe it or not, this started out as a smut piece and it had nothing going for it at all. If you've been following me for a while, you'd remember that back in 2021 i posted a teaser for something similar. Tbh back then probably wasn't the right time to post such a thing lmao, i for certain wasn't ready to write it and it wouldn't have been written in the way it was meant to with my writing style back then. It's been a long journey of understanding the characters portrayed here, and a lot of work to get them right. Very big shoutout to @hwaslayer who's - as always - been there with me from the very beginning and has been the biggest help and motivator, please look out for her Ateez's Seonghwa fic that shares this universe!! I won't keep you any longer, but please be sure to leave feedback, a lot of effort went into this project and i'd love to hear what you think and answer any questions! Happy reading!!!
“You sure you don’t wanna stay here with me dearie? I know it ain’t much, but it’s better than being out in the elements.” Abigail takes your hands in hers, hands that – much like yours – are dirt stained and ruddy, but bring you comfort that you wouldn’t find elsewhere. Abigail – or Toothy as everyone else calls her – is a frail woman with wispy auburn hair and a gap tooth smile. Her hair had gone white in some places, the crows’ feet at her eyes can barely help you guess her age. Her eyes are blue and dull but still regard you warmly like she did when she’d found you wandering along the fourth avenue weeks or so ago.
The space where she stays isn’t much; a nook in an alleyway between two rundown buildings that people don’t bother to go into. She’d tried her best to make it into a space that’s comfortable enough, the roof made of termite bitten sheets of ply that’s at least a square and a half wide. An old, mildew ridden tarp thrown over it and held down by a couple pieces of rubble from the building across makes up the walls that offer shelter from cold wind and rain and as much privacy you could get out here. The floor made of giant trash bags Abigail had swindled from some place or another, covered with old sheets that’s definitely seen better days. Even though the sheets had long lost their softness and leave you itching, they kept your butt off the cold concrete.
You’re going to miss the stories she’d tell. You’d lay on the floor, the longest part of the tarp folded over the top, and stare up at the strip of night sky between the buildings, twinkling with the bit of stars you can see and listen.
She’d tell you of her life before she fell to rock bottom, how grand everything was. How, many years ago, she’d won the lottery by a stroke of luck, only to have it turn sour when her fiancé gambled it all away and she lost everything. She never did tell you what happened to him.
You’d miss walking the couple of miles to the river, armed with pieces of run-down bar soaps and plastic bags with the little clothes you owned in them bundled in your arms. Or the nights when it’s cold, you’d go down to the square with her and look around for things to burn and dump them into the steel barrel to keep warm.
There are days when there’s nothing, and Abigail would distract you from your stomach trying to eat at itself with another one of her stories and old cans filled with steaming boiled rain water. There are days when you’d sit with a full tummy, there’s usually one kind soul out there that takes pity on you both to offer as much as they could.
You’ll be forever grateful for Abigail, with her motherly affection and her warm hands. She never once asked how you ended up here too, she simply offered a hand when you needed it most.
You felt as though you lingered too long... this is the longest you’ve stayed in a place. The company was good, but you feel like there’s just so much you’re robbing Abigail of by staying with her. You know she would strongly disagree; she’d probably whack you with her busted up sneaker and send you to sit in a corner until you’ve apologized. It’s simply how you feel, if you’re not here, Abigail wouldn’t have to share the little of what she gets, you feel terrible enough that she gives you more than she keeps for herself.
“Don’t worry Abigail.” You smile, pulling one hand away to pat hers. Her fingers are bony and long, and lacking the warmth they did earlier in the day. “I don’t stay one place for too long.”
It’s a lie, obviously. You’d rather chew your leg off than go out there alone. Away from the safety this little nook had been for the past month, away from Abigail, who’s cared more about you than anyone has in a while. But you care about her too, enough that you’d leave to make sure that she eats well enough to survive and not give it all to you. She’d be better off.
Abigail narrows her eyes at you, the wrinkles of her face deepening as she frowns. She looks sad, you note, the blue of her eyes dark and stormy, but she says nothing, just squeezes your hands for a while before letting go.
You smile softly, and continue stuffing your clothes into an old backpack Abigail had given you a while back. You fold the dirty ones tight, setting them at the bottom, and the few clean ones you had that still smelled like your last bar soap at the top. You don’t have much, and you’ve gotten used to it – as hard as it was.
When you shouldered your bag and stepped out from under the tarp, Abigail follows, worry on her brow, saying that she’d walk you to the mouth of the alleyway.
“Oh!” She says, turning back to duck under the tarp. You hear the rummaging of her old pot wares, the clanking of the metal before she comes back and holds out a can to you. The label looks worn, peeling off in some places, but you make out the bright red ‘canned peach’ on the side. “I was savin’ this for when we go down to the river, but you’d better have it.”
“Abigail...” You sigh, guilt gnawing at your edges, “I can’t take this.”
Abigail purses her lips, smacking the can into your hand, “Yes, you can. It’ll hold you out for a little while.”
“Then what would you eat?” You outstretch your hand, offering the peaches back to her and she narrows her eyes at you.
“I can manage.” She says testily, and then sighs, softening, “Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?” She takes the can and tucks it into the outside pocket of your bag, “It’ll be rough ya know.”
“I’ll be fine,” You say, and then, you hug her. Truly, you’ll miss her. She pats your back gently, “Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t mention it, we gotta look out for each other out here.” Abigail smiles, pulling away. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans, something she’d picked up at a donation shelter a couple of days ago. It’s got a few holes and it’s frayed at the ankles but she’d never complain. “If you fall into luck, don’t forget me.”
“Never.”
You both say your goodbyes and you try your best to not cry at the sadness that clings to Abigail’s form as she hobbles back to her little nook. You take a breath and pick a direction to walk in.
You think about going to the river first, to get a little cleaned up before you go looking for somewhere to sleep for the night. You’re already regretting leaving the comfort that Abigail provided. You know she wouldn’t blame you if you turned right around and dragged yourself back. You’ve already made your mind up, though – it’s better this way.
You don’t have a gauge on the time, but the sun’s getting quite low. It streaks the sky in orange and pink, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud as it makes its slow decent. You might be able to make it to the river and back before night falls completely if you hurry. So you walk, and walk, and it’s a long way past the street Abigail first found you, where the city meets a forest edge.
You once asked Abigail why she didn’t live closer to the river, you worry about her most days, taking her frail self through the streets for such a long walk just to get here. She’d told you that even though some of your street dwelling comrades are friendly, most aren’t, and would do the worst to get what they need. It’s too risky to be close to the river where all manner of folk pass to get to it.
You tuck your bag to your front and keep an ear out for anyone that may be in the area. You grimace as the twigs and stones of the forest floor poke at your feet. Your shoes were on their last, they kept your feet warm most days, but they’re biting holes into your last good pair of socks. The trees get sparse the further in you go, and over the tweeting and chittering of the forest critters, there’s the sound of rushing water.
You break out of the trees and stand on the little edge where the forest pauses and the soft wet dirt begins. The river is a bit wild today, rushing through the rocks as it makes its way from wherever it starts. You know there must be a spring somewhere deeper if you follow the river back, but you don’t have the time to as the setting sun makes the forest look darker already. You wouldn’t like to be out here at night.
You slip out of your shoes and socks, wanting to keep them dry and walk down to the bank. Abigail has a little spot between three large boulders where she hides things. The spot is covered with leaves and sticks, and you dig through it to find the old blue bucket. It’s missing it’s handle and turned over to keep things under it.
There’s a new pack of soap powder that’s already been opened, a little square plastic bowl that’s probably seen better days on a dish rack and half of a soap bar. You pull the bucket out of its hiding place, taking just a handful of the soap powder and tossing it into the bucket. You tuck the powder into a corner of the rock with the soap bar on top of it and carry the bucket over to the river.
You rummage through your bag to find the clothes that needed cleaning, and put them in the bucket with the soap. It takes a moment of scooping water from the river and pouring it into the bucket. All the while you’re wondering where Abigail scored the soap powder from. A lot of things are hard to come by, but some people make trades with the little they’ve got. You feel a little guilty as you watch the water and soap soak into your clothes, though you know she wouldn’t mind if its you – you’re the only two that know where she keeps her stuff hidden – but still.
The soap smells sweet, and fresh in a way you haven’t smelt in a while. With the sun long gone behind the trees but still lighting the sky a bit, you wash your clothes as quickly as you can. You throw the soapy water on the bank and not back in the river, and rinse your clothes out just as quick.
There’s no time to wait for them to dry, with the sun being as low as it is and the wind baring its teeth. So you wring them out and pull out the plastic handle bag you keep folded in one of your backpack pockets to stuff them into.
It’s completely dark out once you’ve put the bucket back and covered Abigail’s things again and made your way back out of the forest. You would’ve liked to take a quick wash, but it’s too dark and the water’s too cold now. You’ll come back tomorrow when the sun’s high and hot.
You walk in a different direction than the way you came, looking for the little park that Abigail mentioned once. Its completely dark by the time you get there, your feet aching from the long walk and your mind muddled with thoughts.
You would often remind yourself not to think too hard, as your thoughts would often lead you to a dark place you find difficult to crawl out of. You would often regret not having people close enough to call good friends, maybe then you wouldn’t be out here.
You didn’t have a difficult life; you grew up in a loving home with both parents making sure that you were happy and not too spoilt by the fruits of their labour. You know the value of things and you know well to act like your parents raised you with some sense. Your mother passed when you were ten, and your father remarried when you were sixteen. You couldn’t understand why, your father loved your mother so much and you thought it would just be you and him against the world. You understood that your mother wouldn’t want him to live the rest of his life overshadowed by her passing and forget to continue living. So when he introduced you to the woman he met on a business trip, looking happier than he had in six years, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that something was off.
Your mother had always taught you to see the good in people, to give them the benefit of a doubt. There was no mistaking the thinly veiled disgust in your step mother’s eyes when she would look at you. She was quite young, compared to your father, anyway, and as the years went by, he spoilt her. He gave her whatever she wanted when she wanted it as long as it made her happy and you could only watch from the sidelines.
Your father fell ill, and everything went downhill from there.
When he passed, your world shattered and crumbled, leaving you standing in the rubble grasping at the wisps of it slipping through your fingers. Things were okay, for a while, grieving the loss of your father and trying to move on and step without him. Then the news of his will came not long after he was buried.
Your father left everything for his wife, the house, his money, and as you’d found on the first night you were out here, the savings account your mother had set up for you.
You had nothing.
You’d always kept to yourself growing up, and never let anyone closer than you would allow. You were home-schooled – all the way up to your tertiary education – and had no friends to speak of. Your parents never spoke of their family, all you knew and had were your mother and father.
It’s been a while since then. A good long while. It was hard to adjust to having everything at the tip of your fingers to having it ripped away all at once.
The first week was hard. You’d worked odd jobs here and there to keep your head above the water. Sleeping in a motel every night wasn’t ideal, especially since you had to buy food and every thing else. The little money you had ran out quickly, even when you pawned the possessions you did own it wasn’t enough.
You’ve had time to adjust since then. You met Abigail and things were as okay as they could’ve been considering. You remember, she had been pestering you about why you were pacing around on that bridge when she found you.
The deep rushing water below it had looked inviting – an easy way out. No one would’ve missed you, anyway.
You take a breath in sharply, and it burns. Cold air fills your lungs with little pinpricks as night fully settles. You try not to think about anything more as you walk through the park.
It looks empty, large trees and neat grass fields and cobbled walkways. There are dark metal benches scattered about, a trickle of water you can’t pinpoint coming from somewhere.
You’d just stay here for tonight, and find somewhere you wouldn’t be in trouble to stay at in the morning. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some law being who you are as you sit down on the bench. It’s uncomfortable, the metal cold and biting, but you’d just have to deal for the night.
You dig through your backpack, pulling out the plastic bag with your damp clothes, a jacket that’s still in good condition and the canned peach Abigail sent you off with.
You spread your clothes out on the back of the bench, and you’re hoping they dry properly even if the air feels a little damp.
With a soft sigh, you lift the circular pin on the lid of the can and pull. The peaches are cut into slices and swimming in a sweet juice, and with some guilt you pick a piece out. It’s sweeter than anything you’ve had in a while, and for a moment you feel like crying.
You feel tears burn your eyes and nose as you chew the fruit, washing it down with a sip of the juice that tastes slightly like the can. It wasn’t long before it was all gone, your fingers sticky with the juice and you stare into the empty can with a frown. You wonder about Abigail and if she’s okay right now.
Setting the can down near the foot of the bench that’s bolted into the cobblestone path, you lay back. The sky is fairly clear, with a little smattering of wispy clouds floating by and stars that twinkle in the distance.
Drifting off slowly, you try to find a comfortable position to sleep in – though there isn’t one with this metal bench. Your jacket thrown over you as a makeshift blanket.
You’re not certain how long you sleep for, but when you wake, its to a tapping on your shoulder. The air is thick with something as you breathe in, and a lot damper than it was when you’d settled.
“Ma’am.” A voice calls, prodding your shoulder again, “Hello, miss?”
You open your eyes and your blood runs cold at the sight of the man in uniform standing above you. You sit up, excuses dancing at the tip of your tongue before you realised you could barely see past your nose.
The officer is holding a flashlight, the beam directed somewhere off to your right. A thick fog had settled while you slept, swirling way past the officer’s head.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t sleep here. This is a private park.” His words aren’t unkind, they come out gentle and a little pitying, as though he regrets having to do his job of keeping the riffraff out. He lets you gather your things, stuffing your still damp clothes back into your bag.
He takes a step back when you stand, “If you need somewhere to stay, there’s a shelter not far from here. Couple blocks that way.” He waves his flashlight behind you, towards the park’s exit, “Can’t miss it.”
You could barely see the guy, much less which way exactly he’s directing you to. You turn, squinting at the way you think he pointed. “Thank you... I’m really sorry about –”
“Don’t worry about it...just keep walking straight and you’ll find it.”
He motions with his flashlight again and you take two steps away before stopping and turning back, “Sorry but...the fog...which way...”
The man is gone, no sign of him having been there in the first place. It’s quiet, not even insects are chirping, you don’t hear any retreating footsteps. You stare at the spot he was just in, but didn’t want to linger lest he comes back and he’s decidedly less kind.
You hike your bag up on your shoulder, squinting to see through the fog as you walk towards the exit. The roads are empty, there’s the soft clicking of the traffic lights and the glow of shop lights and street lamps that make it a little bit easier to see. You still look both ways before walking quickly across the street, keeping straight like the officer told you.
It’s quiet, and honestly, it freaks you out a bit. You don’t think it’s that late, and even so, there should be people out and about. You don’t even think you slept for that long, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. There’s no reason for no one to be around, then again, you don’t know this area very well.
You walk for some time, the sound of your footsteps and your steady breaths your only company. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of the shelter, staring up at the glowing signs and squinting to see through the fog. You passed a convenience store, a pharmacy and a pet shop, all closed and dark inside. You’ve crossed two roads so far; it shouldn’t be much more walking...unless a couple of blocks have two different meanings between you and the officer.
You stop for a moment, taking a breath that settles heavy and damp in your chest. You look back the way you came, look at the signs of the buildings across the street and the one you’re outside of. You can’t see much more than that unless you keep walking straight.
You’re beginning to wonder if he’d only said so to get you out of the park. You take a couple of steps forward and then stop, looking over your shoulder. Your brows furrow and the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end.
It’s said that the mind always knows when you’re being watched, a sixth sense to be aware when someone is staring at you.
You feel watched.
And it isn’t an ordinary feeling.
It feels off, like some primal switch just flicked up in your brain. Briefly, you think that this is how a bunny feels being cornered by a fox. Your heart suddenly kicks against your ribs and something in the back of your mind screams for you to move.
You press forward, the feeling lingers, and intensifies. You walk as quickly as you can, your once steady breaths loud and harsh in the quietness of the night. You try not to look behind you as your ears pick up on the sound of another pair of footsteps. They match yours, and you’re not too certain if it’s just really your own bouncing off the walls of the buildings. When you stop, they stop, and start back up again when you start.
There’s another sound below it. Something snarls like a dog somewhere in the distance behind you, but, like everything else about this moment in this fog, it sounds wrong. Like it’s coming from a creature that’s trying to mimic the sound of an animal.
You stop dead in your tracks, goosebumps rippling along your skin like a wave from the top of your head and downwards. You take a breath, and with one foot in front of the other – you sprint.
Your footfalls are loud in the quiet, and even through your panic you notice the change of the footsteps that mimicked yours. There’s two more with it that falls in rhythm, like a large beast running on all fours.
It’s running faster than you are, the pounding of its feet against the pavement is double the speed of your own. You feel like your lungs are about to burst, your legs burning, and the damp air becomes fire in your throat when you breathe.
Whatever it is snarls again, and it sounds way closer than it was before. You could almost feel the sound rumble through you, and something hot fans at the back of your neck. You nearly trip, stumbling over your own feet in an attempt to run faster. You round a corner blindly, hoping to throw whatever it is off your trail and smack right into someone.
With your momentum, you’d think that you would send yourself and the person sprawling to the hard concrete. The terrified scream you let out rings in your own ears, high pitched and shrill, as you bounce back, falling in a heap. There’s a sharp twinge in your wrist as you brace, and a stinging in your palm when you just barely managed to catch yourself.
“Shit!” the person exclaims – a man, if the deep timbre of his voice was anything to go by. “Are you okay?!”
The man crouches down and you scramble back, then remember that you crashed into him because you were running from something and the panic comes back.
“I—there’s ... Something’s following me! It chased me all the way here...It’s—”
“Hey, hey...it’s okay...you’re fine.” The man seems to look behind you. You could barely see his face, even with him being as close as he was; the fog just seems to get thicker. “It’s just us out here...”
His voice suddenly seems hesitant, and you wouldn’t blame him if he thought you were crazy.
You breathing is still erratic, heart still trying to pound its way out of your chest.
The man’s hands hover at your shoulders, and there’s worry in his tone when he speaks again. “It’s okay. You’re alright, nothing’s out here but us.”
He takes your hand – the one that’s not holding your weight – and presses it to his chest. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, but his own heart is steady, beating a slow rhythm against his sternum. “Breathe with me.”
He takes a deep breath in, and you feel his chest expand as his lungs fill, you try your best. Your throat is burning, and every breath feels like fine glass is swirling at the back of your mouth. It takes a moment, but eventually, your breaths match his and the adrenaline seeps out with your every exhale.
Your brain finally registers the throbbing of your wrist and palm, and the ache in your sides.
“There you go.” You can faintly make out the smile that spreads across the man’s face, heart shaped and pretty white teeth. “Good now?”
You nod, just barely, and he releases your hand. There’s a shuffling and the sound of a zipper and then he’s holding a bottle of water out to you. You eye it with some suspicion, and he picks up on it.
“It’s just water, promise.” He says, wiggling the bottle a little. “The seal isn’t cracked or anything.”
You take your weight off your palm, wincing at the hot flash of pain from the movement. You right yourself a little, taking the water from him with your uninjured hand and a soft thanks.
“Oh...here...” he keeps the bottle steady in your hand with a palm under the bottom of it, and the other cracking the seal with a twist. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you take a sip, and then a gulp, “Easy, not too fast.”
The water is cool, and a blessing, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. When you’ve drank at least half of the bottle, the man puts the cap back on and leaves it in your hold.
“Were you looking for something?” he asks gently, and you nod.
“The homeless shelter...I think I’m lost now, though.”
The man tilts his head, “There aren’t any shelters in this area...you’re on the wrong side of the city if that’s what you were looking for.”
You stare at him for a moment, “...Oh.” The officer really did just say it, then. You’re not sure what to say to the man and you glance around at the street that’s still teeming with the thick fog.
You’re not sure what to say to him, and instead, look around the street for any sign of the shelter even though he’d said there isn’t one.
“I think the fog’s lifting...” The man mumbles. The fog is clearing; it’s easier to see further down the street and the man in front of you. He presses his palms against his knees and stands, looking around for a moment before looking down at you. “There aren’t any shelters around...but...I can help you. If you want, I live a bit that way, and I’ve got an extra room...”
This is a bad idea.
He’s quite tall, on the lean side with long limbs. He’s wearing a long black coat, and his black, suede shoes look just as expensive as the watch that peeks from the end of his sleeve at his wrist. The white tee shirt he wears looks a little billowy, like it would swallow his frame once he takes the coat off. He turns a little and you get to admire the sharp cut of his jaw and the elegant slope of his nose.
“I won’t hurt you or anything. I just want to help.” He says, turning back to you. His eyes are dark, but kind as he offers a hand to help you off the concrete. “I’m Hoseok.”
You take his hand, and there’s nothing in the back of your mind telling you to get away. Nothing in his body language that shows ill intent, and you have to remind yourself that some people are simply kind.
He helps you to your feet and you thank him softly, giving him your name. His smile is soft as he nods, lips turned up slightly at the corners, eyes squinted just a bit.
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. It’s a bit late, though, and you’d have to walk a long way to find the shelter...” Hoseok says softly.
You’re still holding his hand, and the warmth of it grounds you. You honestly shouldn’t, really, you’re smart enough to know you shouldn’t follow random men promising kindness. He really looks like a good person, quietly waiting for your answer as he gives you chance to change your mind should you wish.
He doesn’t rush you, and briefly you wonder if he doesn’t have anything else to do. He was clearly going about his business before you tackled him, though that word should be used lightly considering you’re the one who ended up on the ground.
“Okay...thank you.” When you finally speak his smile broadens, showing pretty teeth and still holding your hand, he leads you in the direction he was coming from before. You feel a bit bad, turning his night on its head and probably inconveniencing him.
The fog is lighter now, the air not as thick with it as you follow along. Hoseok didn’t talk much, not once mentioning your pitiful state of dress, or asking any questions. You’re grateful, not many people would go out of their way to open their homes to someone without one.
The place he leads you to looks expensive and you feel out of place. The road winds and twists into a residential area with houses and three storey apartments. There are cars parked in driveways, neatly trimmed grass and hedges, a fence around every tree. Lampposts dot the sidewalk every thirty or so steps, casting their orange glows across every surface.
Across from there, the road veers off into a more commercial area, with fancier housing and shops and a tall, looming hotel. The streets are quiet, shops already closed for the night and you wonder what time it is. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, save for you and Hoseok making your way towards the hotel.
The doors slide open with a little mechanical whir, and you balk at the sheer size of the lobby alone. Light fixtures hang from the ceiling, bouncing their glows off of shiny surfaces. There are red and black lounge seats along a far wall, coffee tables of black tempered glass between them and the single seated chairs across. On the other side of the lobby is a little open cafe area, closed of course, with comfortable looking chairs tucked under tables.
There are two elevators, one of which you assume to be for staff. The reception area is a counter space of smooth looking white marble, though no one sits behind it.
Hoseok leads you to the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. You’ve let go of his hand now, as you take in the sight of the place. You wonder what anyone would think seeing someone like you in here. With your shabby clothes that’s seen better days, your dirty sneakers and backpack that looks like it’s moments away from just splitting apart.
There’s no one to see you, as the elevator comes down and opens with a ding. You catch sight of your reflection in the elevator walls, and grimace, regretting not bracing the cold river earlier. You definitely look homeless, your last bath was exactly two days ago, you look grubby standing just a little bit behind Hoseok. Anyone who would see you now would definitely turn their nose up at you and outright ask what you’re doing in their pristine hotel. Though, there isn’t much you can do to prevent that.
When the doors slide close you focus on the button panel, and next to it is a key card scanner and a button under it. The word penthouse is neatly labelled on the button in little black letters, and Hoseok fishes around his coat to pull out a key card. You blink, of course he lives in the penthouse.
The scanner beeps softly and Hoseok presses the button that glows a soft blue before the elevator lurches slight and ascends.
You fiddle nervously with your fingers in front of you, keeping your eyes on your shoes. There’s a shuffle and Hoseok turns to look at you, he’s smiling kindly again, something like pity woven into it and you feel a coil of shame twist in your chest.
“I’m sorry...” You say without much reason, glancing at him and then back down, “For the trouble.”
“No trouble.” Hoseok says softly, concern on his brow, his hand reaching out but stopping short, as though he’s not sure if he could touch you. You’re surprised he even want to. Heck, you’re surprised he’s doing any of this at all. “Really.”
“Do you usually take in random homeless people?” You ask, and his chuckle is light and teasing.
“Only the cute ones.” He says and then looks a little mortified, “Sorry. I’m kidding. It’s just...you looked like you really needed help...so I’m helping.”
“You’re very kind.” You murmur and offer a smile.
He smiles back, not as brightly as his other ones, it curls his mouth less, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods, “I try to be.”
The elevator slows to a stop, doors sliding open to a little well-lit hallway. On the other end of the hall is a wide pane of glass that overlooks the city lights, twinkling in a dance of their own making, and an emergency exit sign jutting out of the wall. You follow Hoseok out of the elevator towards the door which he unlocks with a password — the beeps loud in the quiet — the door opens with a soft thunk and a beep and he lets you walk in first.
The lights are on, as though he’d only planned to be out for a moment. You’re not too sure what to do with yourself now that you’re here, staring at Hoseok’s back unsurely as he takes his shoes off and tucks them neatly on a shoe rack.
He turns to face you, “I don’t mean anything by this, so please don’t misunderstand...”
You nod, waiting for him to continue.
He seems to weigh his words carefully, “Do you want to take a bath?”
You flush, yeah, you surely look grubby enough for him to ask that. It’s warranted, so, you’re not upset that he asked. You’d actually love to, when was the last time you took a bath that wasn’t in the freezing river?
Still though, it’s embarrassing. So you nod silently, “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He says, looking genuinely relieved. “You can leave your stuff here and I’ll take care of everything.”
“Okay...” You step out of your shoes, nudging them in a corner before you take your bag off and set it down. The clothes you have are still damp, stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere in the depths of your tattered backpack and Hoseok doesn’t give you a moment before he’s leading you through his home.
The chill of the grey tiled floor runs up your legs through your thin, threadbare socks. You don’t have much time to look around, but you’re aware you’ve passed an open space kitchen and living room, splashes of white, reds and black in the corner of your vision.
He lets you into the bathroom, “Use whatever you need. The towels and things are in the cabinet.”
You turn to face him, “I really can’t thank you enough.” You say earnestly, and he waves you off, turning to leave and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
“I’ll bring you some clothes that you could use.” He says through the door, his voice muffled. You thank him again and his footsteps trail away.
You turn and glance around the bathroom, floor to ceiling glass panes makes up the furthest wall. Before it is a porcelain bathtub that could easily fit three people, on a raised platform of white stained marble, and that platform on another, creating a single step up in order to get into the tub. The colour of the platforms compliments the dark reflective marble floor. The undersides of the platforms are lined with what you assume must be LED lights, glowing a pale white along the bottom.
The same LEDs line the back of the large wall mounted mirror, giving it an ominous glow. Below the mirror is a dark granite sink with a faucet you’re not even sure how to turn on. The cabinet below the sink house only cleaning supplies, and you look around for the towel space.
The shower takes up nearly the whole wall it’s connected to, frosted glass and jets embedded into the wall.
You walk over to the shower and realise that was wall beside it sorts of curve and you let out a surprised sound when you walk the short way towards the back of it. The ‘cabinet’ is more of a little walk-in closet, there’s a few fluffy looking bathrobes sorted by length and colour, and towels and washcloths stacked on shelves that match.
Under those are neat little space savers filled with bath oils and shower gels, sweet scented candles tucked into corners. Bar soaps and toilet paper on their own shelves at the bottom, unopened toothbrushes and what have you.
There’s enough room to turn full circle without bumping into anything if you step into it. But you look at your hands and decide to not touch anything until they're clean.
So you walk back out to the sink, frowning at the faucet with no visible way to turn it on; it’s just a sleek piece of metal that curves back into the basin. You look at it to and fro and wave your hand under it, startling slightly when water sprays from the faucet. You hold your hand away and it turns off after a moment. Now, your parents had money but it wasn’t anything like this.
You can’t imagine the cost of this place.
You find hand soap after peeking into the cabinet below the sink again, taking your time to thoroughly wash your hands clean. It’s hard to see the dirt go down the drain against the dark granite, but you’re grateful. You inspect your hands once your done, and finally allow yourself to touch Hoseok’s things. You take a towel down from the shelf, the one that’s at the top of the pile. It’s a nice pale yellow, and near the bottom right corner is a little blue butterfly embroidered into the fabric. After a little debate with yourself, you pull the washcloth that matches from its pile.
You set the towel on the closed lid of the toilet, and strip out of your clothes. You fold them neatly and set them on the floor along with your socks, stuffing your underwear into the pocket of your jacket. You step into the shower and pull the door shut behind you.
You turn the knobs and adjust the water so that’s it not too hot, and for a moment, you simply stand there. The water flows over your skin in rivulets, washing away the sweat and grime of the past two days. You try not to take too long, but made sure that you’re thoroughly scrubbed clean. You try not to use too much of Hoseok’s things, even though he’d told you to use whatever you needed.
You’re not sure how long you were in there, how long you stood letting the water wash away your tears as well.
When you step out, steam billowing put behind you, you wiggle your toes into the fluffy cotton mat under you, wrapping the towel around your form. It feels nice to be clean, skin feeling a little raw from the hot water. You tiptoe to the door and ease it open, and it pushes lightly against a bundle of folded clothes on the ground. Next to it, a pair of warm looking house slippers that you shuffle into immediately after drying your feet.
The clothes: a dark grey long sleeve crew neck tee that hangs just a little off one shoulder, a pair of boxer shorts still in it’s wrapping, and long fleece lined sweatpants that you have to fold at your ankles.
Near the door is a towel rack where you hang the towel you used to dry, and after taking a breath, you step out of the bathroom.
You walk back the way Hoseok led you, and the air is prickled with the scent of freshly made food and it makes you wonder just how long you took in the bathroom.
The kitchen is a wide space, between the area that makes up the entrance hallway is a kitchen island, and much like everything else you’ve seen, is a long, polished slab of dark marble. There’s a sink in the middle, sleek and silver and soft white light comes from the fixings above it. Across from that is a large refrigerator, an electric stove and more counter space. There are a few scattered appliances, a coffee maker and a small espresso machine tucked under a cupboard over them, and a blender with something or the other in it.
Hoseok stands with his back to you, he turns slightly, looking over his shoulder and startles.
“Oh – shit.” He laughs softly, “Hey, was your bath okay?”
“Sorry...” You apologize for scaring him and he waves you off, turning to face you fully. He scans your form but there’s nothing odd in the action, and he nods to himself at whatever he was looking for. “Oh, yeah. My bath was okay, thank you.”
“Dinner’s ready if you...oh...” he glances to the side, back to you and then to whatever he’s got going on the stovetop. “...This might be too heavy for you right now...” He murmurs to himself, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. He looks sheepish, a little guilty about something he didn’t consider.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll eat whatever it is.” You’re not about to make him waste his food, or be impolite.
“Okay, well.” He presses a button on the stove panel, turning to the island. There’s the sound of a drawer opening and he pulls out a kitchen towel, smiling at you. He nods his head to the right, where, tucked to the wall is a modest sized wooden table. There’re two plates of what he’s made already there, and tall glasses of water. “Go ahead.”
You walk over to the table, pulling out the chair to sit. Dinner is creamy mashed potatoes, a hearty portion of steamed mixed veggies and steak that’s somehow done to your liking and already cut into pieces. Your mouth waters at the sight and it smells so good you could cry. Hoseok isn’t finished at the island, so you busy yourself with folding the sleeves of your borrowed tee-shirt up and out of the way.
When he comes over he frowns a little, “You didn’t have to wait, dove.” He takes his seat opposite you, “Please, eat.”
The random pet name flies over your head, not that you would’ve been bothered by it had you been paying attention. Hoseok was kind enough to open his home to you, let you use his things and now he’s feeding you. He could call you whatever he likes.
You murmur a thank you and dig into your food. The sound you make when you take the first bite borders on erotic, but your gracious host doesn’t seem to mind very much. There’s a pleased glint in his eyes and a small curl to his mouth as he watches you eat for a moment.
You’re too hungry to be embarrassed by the intensity of his stare, but you’re mindful to not choke or look like you left your manners somewhere at your feet.
The food settles in your stomach, heavy but it’s a feeling you welcome. You could barely remember the last time you had a full meal. The bite you swallow brings the odd feeling of it slowing down behind your sternum, and you take a long drink of the cold water Hoseok had set out for you.
The man himself barely touched his own food, seemingly content to watch you scarf yours down. He has his chin propped in his hand, a small curl to the corner of his mouth and a glint of something in his eyes.
“Thank you...for the food.” You stare at your plate, drizzled with gravy and what’s left of your dinner. You can’t meet his gaze and you’re not certain why, and the intensity of it is starting to gnaw on your senses.
“No need for thanks, little dove.” Hoseok says, and there’s a soft clink when he finally picks his fork up and it knocks against the round rim of the plate. “Just doing my good deed for the day.”
The pet name strikes you this time, no longer distracted by the delicious food and your rumbling tummy. The way it rolls off his tongue sends a shiver racing down your spine, one that was decidedly unpleasant. There’s something in his tone, the way he stares when you raise your eyes to meet his, something in his beautiful heart shaped smile.
The fine hairs at the back of your neck raises, and you’re back to feeling like a bunny in a fox’s burrow. It was the same feeling you’d gotten earlier in the strange fog; the primal sense that you’re no longer the apex.
Something like a bell jingles in the back of your mind and grows louder until its a wailing alarm.
You should leave. Thank him for being so kind and get as far away from him as possible.
The look in his eyes unnerves you, but it’s something you can’t put a finger on. Just off the edge of his form something flutters, a shadow that shouldn’t be there, but it’s gone so quickly you didn’t have time to focus on it. The feeling intensifies; tugging, now.
You don’t think he’s blinked.
A shudder runs through you, rippling along your skin like a shockwave and Hoseok is calling your name.
“Are you okay?” there’s concern on his brow, his unoccupied hand raised in a wave as though he’s been trying to get your attention for a while. “Do you feel sick?”
“N... no. I’m fine, thank you.” You try to smile, but you’re pretty certain it looks as strained as it feels. He was almost done eating, though he’s paused to asses you with furrowed brows. You feel like you’ve missed something in the past minute.
“I asked if you wanted more food but you just blanked on me.” Hoseok sets his fork down and you feel like you’re losing your mind. The feeling from before is gone, and you’re not even certain if you felt it in the first place. Maybe you’re tired, or maybe the feeling of the comforts you’ve missed for so long is messing with your head.
Hoseok looks perfectly normal, there’s nothing flickering at his back or anything odd in his stare.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure.” You don’t feel certain, and if Hoseok noticed he didn’t comment on it. You pick up the fork again, scraping up the little left of your food onto it quietly. You feel strange, as though the past two minutes moved by too quickly, or like they happened weeks ago and you’re struggling to cling to the details of them.
Hoseok is focused on his plate, and uncertainty at the hope that he keeps his eyes there blooms in your chest. You’re not sure why.
It’s awkwardly quiet for a couple moments, with Hoseok finishing his meal and you, playing with the folded ends of your borrowed tee-shirt. When he was done, he takes the plates and the empty glasses to the sink to clean them and you sit idly at the table.
He’s drying his hands with a dark kitchen towel when he’s done, settling at the edge of the island and facing you. The overhead lights glow against his form, casting shadows along his visage that makes him look sharper; menacing. It clings to his hair like a depiction of something holy, making his dark hair look russet in the gleam.
You go to thank him again, even though he’d probably wave you off like he’s been doing the whole time, but the lights are too bright. The glow of the lights swells and flood your eyes, you squeeze them shut, trying to dispel the ache that comes with it. You turn your head and it feels like you’re neck deep in mud, it takes too much effort to do something so simple.
Panic wells in your chest, sending your heart kicking against your ribs harshly. You take a breath, well, you try, but it gets stuck somewhere in your throat and you choke on it.
There’s two Hoseoks when you peel your eyes open, and they neatly fold the towel they were using and put it down. For a minute, your vision settles, and the man leans against the island nonchalantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches you spiral.
“You should try to calm down.” He says softly, and you hate the way you cling to the sound of his voice when it’s very clear what’s happening.
“Wh...” Your tongue feels heavy, and the words you try to say are slurred and unintelligible. You move to stand, trying to get away even when your limbs feel like there’s a ball and chains at the ends of them. The world tilts on an axis, doubling as you make to your feet, you’re not sure if it’s leaning or you are.
Hoseok reaches you in a single step and a strangled sound escapes you. He places a hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you back into the chair. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing your body can’t handle.”
You can barely hear him, your ears feel as though there’s cotton in them, reducing his words to a muddled murmur. You can’t feel the way his fingers curl into the hair at your nape, but you notice the shift as he tilts your heavy head back to look up at him.
He’s smiling, you think. Pretty and heart shaped, all white teeth and sinister. And there’s that feeling again, as he says something you can’t hear, can’t focus, your eyes are closing.
There’s something dark and broken that flickers against the light above his head and shadows that dance at his back.
When the morning came and you didn’t wake, Hoseok wasn’t too concerned. He watched over you as once was his duty to another, tucked you into the sheets and the blankets and let you sink into the warmth of them. He sits in a chair at your bedside, simply watching the rise and fall of your chest and the pinch of your brow as sweat beads upon it.
Your body is fighting hard to flush out what he put in, and he admits, he may have given you a bit too much of it. It wasn’t his intention, but nothing can be done now but wait for you to come to.
When the afternoon comes and the first sign of your conscious shows in a weak attempt to rouse yourself, and a jumble of words that Hoseok deciphers with a well-trained ear it; was clear you weren’t fully there yet. Your skin was too warm, eyes not nearly focused enough, barely looking at him, and then the contents of your stomach come in a rush of bile and acid.
Hoseok tends to you gently, patiently, taking you to the bath and settling you in a way so that you don’t slip under and drown in your unconscious state. He cleans your mess, changes the bedding, puts you in a fresh set of clothes and lays you back to rest.
You stay asleep throughout the day, and Hoseok isn’t too concerned.
Humans are such fragile, foolish things. To him, you’re a porcelain doll, pretty to stare at and admire if it sits on the top of a shelf behind a case. Take it out of that case and it’s so easily broken. Hoseok is like a child in a sandbox of his own creation with too much power in his fingers. If he isn’t careful, he could shatter your form and lose you to the dunes.
The fear you felt the night before played you directly into his hands – never mind he had nothing to do with it – and Hoseok knows, you don’t have to be inclined to feel the weight of his presence. Your mind knew that something wasn’t quite right -- unconsciously or not --, and yet, you willingly followed.
Foolish.
Though, it was purely coincidental that you ran into him, he had been on his way to somewhere and wondering about the strangeness of the fog that rolled in out of nowhere. He hadn’t missed the weird quiet and lack of people either, it hadn’t been that late.
He doesn’t know exactly what you were doing in it, running around the way you were like a mouse in a maze. It’s something that sits at the back of his mind.
The morning of the second day brought no change; you were in and out of your drug induced sleep, and now, Hoseok was a little concerned.
::
“How much did you give her?”
There’s a squeak of leather as Seungcheol crosses his arms, when it’s quiet for far too long he gives Hoseok a look.
“A little.”
Seungcheol leans over your sleeping form, raising a hand to rest against your forehead. Hoseok would think you were dead if it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest.
“If it was a little, you wouldn’t have called.” Seungcheol says, shaking his head, the dark waves of his hair brushing his eyelashes.
“Well, she’s not dead.”
“Dude.” Seungcheol looks a little disturbed, straightening to stare at Hoseok with a displeased furrow in his brow. “You can’t just – humans have limitations.”
“I’m aware, Cheol. Thank you.” Hoseok grumbles, and he ignores the raise of Seungcheol’s eyebrow and the clear disbelief in his eyes.
“‘Course you are.” He rolls his eyes and then sighs lowly, he turns back to you, placing his hand on your forehead again until the tension in your face fades. “Don’t give her any more of that shit. She should wake up sometime today, maybe.”
Hoseok knows better than anyone the limitations of humans. Not that he acknowledges them, he hadn’t the need to in a long time, but he should be careful at least.
Hoseok leads the way out of his guest bedroom with Seungcheol following and closing the door gently behind him. Walking to the kitchen he could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head.
Hoseok takes his time, fetching a glass from one of his cupboards and the whisky he keeps stashed away for his more stressful days. “Spit it out.”
Seungcheol braces his arms on the other side of the island, eyes dark. “Hoseok. I normally don’t care what you get up to; it’s not my business.” He says, looking somewhere to Hoseok’s right. “You don’t fuck around with humans. Who’s the girl?”
Hoseok hums, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass with a contemplative stare. “Street urchin. No one anyone would miss or bother to look for.”
“So you just took her off the street?” Seungcheol frowns, but Hoseok could tell from the look in his eyes that he knows it’s not that simple.
“She came willingly.” Hoseok corrects, taking a sip of the alcohol he could barely taste.
He sets the glass down on the island and pours the whisky to fill half. Seungcheol is quiet, and Hoseok hates it. It gives his mind a moment to wonder, to open a box he’s kept locked and chained.
On most days, Hoseok barely knows himself. He remembers what he’s supposed to be – what he was – and sometimes, that part of him rears its head to fight with what he’s become. Wings dipped in gold and divinity at the end of his fingertips battle endlessly with the shadows that encased him.
A memory of a time he held something as fragile as glass in his hands, broken before he could properly hold it by someone who was supposed to keep it safe. The ache of it burns like a rash that never goes away, always there, only hiding under his skin until it flares up again.
“Just... don’t do anything stupid.” Seungcheol says after a while, watching Hoseok carefully.
“You and your moral compass.” Hoseok shakes his head, and just like that, the golden light is bundled up tightly and pushed back into the corner where he long hid it.
Seungcheol heaves a sigh, shaking his head, picking up his bag he threw on the island counter when he got here.
“I need you to do something for me.” Hoseok says, watching the light shine through the glass in pretty crystal shapes. There’s a furrow of Seungcheol’s brows, but he tells Hoseok to continue with a raise of his chin. “Keep an eye out for a fog.”
“A fog? Why?”
“She was in one the night before.” Hoseok sucks air in through his teeth, “and she wasn’t alone.”
Seungcheol hums, “Alright.”
Hoseok drinks the last of the whisky in one go and waves a hand at Seungcheol, “You can go now.”
“Thank you, Cheol. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Seungcheol grumbles and then raps his knuckles against the countertop. “I’ll be over here for a few days, gotta sort some things out. Call if you need me.”
Hoseok watches him leave, stuffing his hands into his pocket as he walks back to the bedroom where you still lay asleep.
He sits on the chair, watching the rise and fall of your chest, every minute twitch of your facial features. Restlessness tugs at his limbs as the sun makes its descent western sky, spraying the dimming canvas in hues of lilac and peach.
Something in the back of his mind asks what exactly he’s doing. There was no reason – there wasn’t a reason for him to take you in. A sprout of boredom, maybe, or something involuntary.
Hoseok stares out the window at the slowly darkening sky and the soft glimmer of early evening stars, until the sky is navy and darkness clings to the room.
Your mouth feels like someone’s stuffed cotton in it, and your throat feels like sandpaper when you try to swallow.
You haven’t opened your eyes, laying on what you presume is a bed, if the softness beneath you was anything to go by.
There’s not much that you remember, even as the fog in your mind clears little by little. You remember eating, you remember feeling strange like someone had shrunk you and shook you around in a jar of water. You remember the fear that quickened your heart and your breaths and Hoseok, standing above you like a malevolent God.
You remember the strangeness of his form, and even now your mind can’t comprehend it. You’re not even certain if what you saw was actually real and not an effect of whatever Hoseok had drugged you with.
Drugged.
He drugged you.
Your eyes open and the room is dark. The blankets are thick and heavy and they make you feel warm. There’s a window to your far left, curtains drawn back to show the city in all it’s glory.
Slowly, you sit up, pushing yourself upwards on arms that feel a little weak, and find – to your horror – the clothes you were wearing before aren’t what you’re wearing now.
You take a breath before the panic could set in. You could feel it rolling under your skin like a rumble of thunder before rain, and you try your best to stay calm. You need to find a way out of here.
The apartment seems to be quiet as you slide your feet out of the bed and onto the floor. You barely register the chill of it when you stand, sock-less feet making it easier to sneak over to the door without making a sound. You don’t know where Hoseok put your things, and you don’t have time to go looking for them.
The door isn’t locked, and doesn’t make noise when you push it open slightly to peek out through the little gap you made. You recognise the hallway, the bathroom is two doors down on the other side, and opening the door a little more, you poke your head out tentatively.
You don’t breathe as you listen, but it’s so quiet, so much so that your exhale seems too loud, and there’s a soft ringing in your ears that set you on edge. Stepping outside the room, you contemplate your next course of action: You can bolt right for the door and get out, but risk making too much noise if Hoseok is indeed here. Or, you can slowly and quietly make your way over and slip out without cluing your kidnapper in on your escape.
Can it be called kidnapping if you were living on the streets?
The door seems miles away as you inch slowly towards the open kitchen and living room area. There are a few lights on, the same LED lighting strips run along the edge of the large pane windows and glows an ominous blue and the lights over the marble island had been dimmed. Both rooms seem empty and you couldn’t be more thankful.
Like a mouse, you skitter across along the hallway space that divides the two, down the little platform at the entrance and take one more step towards the door.
The door that seems further back than it was a second ago.
The stretch of space that was just an arm’s length away was now more than a hallway’s length. You stand still and stare at it, reaching an arm out in case you’re suddenly tripping balls but your hand swipes through air and falls limply at your side.
You look behind you and the rooms and hallway are just as they were, and turning back, the door was right where it was before. You could’ve sworn there was a handle on it. You place your palm against the cool, smooth surface where the handle should be and in the face of your freedom thwarted, you pinch your thigh.
You must be dreaming. The pain flares and grounds you and you realise there’s no explanation for this. You’re wide awake. Still drugged then. But you feel fine. There’s no swirling vision or heavy limbs, your mouth doesn’t feel like someone squeezed glue into it; you’re fine. This doesn’t make sense.
You back away from the door and almost stumble against the raised ledge behind your heels. Steadying yourself with a hand against the wall, you turn, and immediately, notice the darkness of the hallway.
Your breath catches in your throat and your heart slams so harshly against your sternum it hurt. There’s that feeling again, it sends a shiver racing down your spine and scattering goosebumps along your skin. You’re being watched. You are not the apex here.
You want to run, or curl up into a ball and hope the darkness hides you. Fear coils into your muscles and locks them tight, and you’re left standing still, eyes darting around trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark.
There’s a darkness that curls at the center of the space a few feet away from you, undulating and crashing in on itself in an uncoordinated dance of chaos. It’s somehow darker than the darkness – stands out against it like white on black paint. It doesn’t make sense to you, and it could simply be your mind turning against you and scaring you further.
It slowly floats towards you, wraps around you in a languid, bored way, like smoke, no longer as tangible as it seemed before. You don’t feel it’s caress, but it’s cold, like you’d submerged yourself into a tub full of ice and water. You feel as though you’ll pass out, like the black wisps of strange smoke is filling your lungs and carving its way through. There’s fear, which is yours, and something that isn’t.
Something dark and lonely, desperate and afraid. It’s sad, so sad that you feel like you’ll drown in it, that tears would well in your eyes and squeeze your throat tight. There’s anger. It feels as though you can burn the world and revel in it.
The smoke snaps back and away from you, crumples on itself violently and then the lights are on, blinding you.
Hoseok is standing in front of you. There’s a mix of conflicted emotions on his face like he can’t settle on one before the storm in his eyes calm.
There’s a tenseness to his brow, and he studies you quietly with a tilt of his head.
“You’re awake.”
He takes one step forward and you take two back in turn. His eyes dart down to your feet and quickly back to your face, and draws the foot he put forward back to himself.
“I won’t hurt you.”
You scoff before you could help it, fear pushed slightly to the side as your anger rushes forward. “Right. Like I’ll believe that after you fucking drugged me.”
“Like I said, it was nothing your body couldn’t handle.” Hoseok counters calmly, “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”
“Then why am I here? What do you want?” His threat didn’t go unheard, it settles into your mind and buries itself underneath everything else you’re trying to absorb for you to freak out about later.
Hoseok smiles, and its bright in its visage, every bit of sweet and caring as you thought him to be. Dimples you haven’t noticed before sinks into his laugh lines, and you think briefly, it makes him even more dangerous. He looks so harmless, as his smile blossoms and blooms into the heart shape you remember from the night before.
“Just you.” He says, eyes glinting with something you’ve decided is more than a little crazy.
You take another step back and he remains in his spot. If you’re quick enough – just enough – you can make it to the door. You might be able to outrun him.
“You can leave if you like.” He says, like he could tell what you’re thinking – or read your mind – and his smile fades, like a raincloud swelling and covering the warm rays of the sun. “Can’t guarantee you’d get very far, so I advise against it.”
You’re not sure if he’s being honest. Though, he looks pretty damn serious. He stares at you quietly, intensely, like he’s daring you to make that mistake. You hazard a look at the door behind you and the handle is still gone.
“What are you?” you ask, turning to face him and he’s directly in front of you. The startled squeak that leaves you makes him chuckle. Bending at his waist, Hoseok stares right into your eyes and you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest and take off running.
Bunny in a fox’s burrow.
“Hm.” He hums, “Now you’re asking questions.” He straightens with a smile and steps aside, gesturing to the kitchen with a slight nod of his head. “I’ll tell you eventually. For now though, you should eat.”
You stay rooted to your spot and decide that if he wants you to move, he’s going to have to move you himself. He’s insane if he thinks you’d be eating anything he gives you.
“Come now, dove. Don’t be that way.” He sighs, stares at you for a moment later before nodding. He turns on his heel and walks into the kitchen without you.
There’re the soft clangs of him moving things around, doing whatever he’s doing in there.
“You’ve been unconscious for two days, and you’ve been sick. You shouldn’t be standing.” You hear him say from the kitchen, and you think you could make another attempt at the door but the handle is still missing, so you have no choice but to go.
You eye him suspiciously when you enter, watching as he butters a piece of toast and puts it on a plate. He doesn’t look at you as you hover unsurely at the dining table, watching the lights catch on the dark marble island counter.
“I won’t give you anything to drink. Get it yourself if you’re worried I’d try something.” He says softly, and not unkind. There’s a shift in his tone and the way his body moves as he brings the plate over. You feel like the man who was standing in front of you a couple of minutes ago in the hallway had hidden himself away and the man you’d met on the street had crawled his way back to the surface.
He sets it down on the table and walks back around the island, opposite from where you’re standing, and out of the kitchen.
You’ve been here for two days – whatever he’d given you must have been strong as hell – trapped here with...him. You’re certain you can’t call him a man, he’s something more than that and you won’t know until he tells you. Most of the memory of the night you came here are blurry and frayed at the edges, making them impossible to cling to and analyse.
There was something strange in the moments before the drug kicked in and right before you passed out. Something strange about Hoseok, but you can’t seem to recall it. It’s like it happened years ago.
The inconsistencies of your memory leave you on edge, and you eye the two slices of perfectly buttered toast on the plate. He’s given you something light enough that your stomach won’t be upset. As the thought comes to mind you faintly remember being sick at some point, but that too is fuzzy and you aren’t sure if its real. At least now the change of clothes makes sense, though, it doesn’t make you feel any better. He could’ve done anything to you while you were drugged and unconscious.
You wonder what he could possibly want with you. Why you, of all people? You’re just a girl who had everything taken from her and thrown off the ladder, now at rock bottom fending for yourself. There’s nothing left of you that could be given.
You feel Hoseok’s presence before you see him, a sort of odd pressure in the back of your mind and your chest. He pokes his head into the room like he’s checking to see if you’d started eating or not and doesn’t look surprised to see you’d left the toast untouched and you’re still standing.
“The toast is fine, you know.” He says, and there’s an understanding in his eyes when he looks at you. He knows you don’t trust him, though, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He sighs when you don’t make a move and comes into the kitchen. He takes the same route as before, walking around the opposite side of the island – away from you – until he’s standing at the other side of table.
“Okay.” He says, picking up one of the toast slices, he bites into it and stares at you while he chews. “Make something yourself then.”
You blink, “Huh?”
“The bread is in the fridge if you want. There’re oats if you prefer that instead. Stick to light things. I’d rather not be cleaning up after you.”
You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.
Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.
You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.
“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?
Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.
It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.
You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.
As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.
Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”
“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.
“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”
A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.
“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.
“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.
He stares at you like you’re a complex puzzle he’s trying to piece together. “I used to be an angel. Fallen from grace.”
You’d laugh at the absurdity of his words, but he has that look again. He has that look that makes you believe him, and everything seems to click into place and make sense, even if you barely understand it at all.
“Okay.” You nod, and then take a seat. You focus on the gentle waves of his dark hair and not his eyes, “Why am I here? Why can’t I leave?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You can if you want to. I said that I can’t guarantee you’d get far; You weren’t alone out in that fog.”
You’d almost forgotten about that. Recent happenings had been enough to push it to the back of your mind. You knew you weren’t losing your mind that night, something had definitely chased you and you’re positive it wasn’t a regular animal.
“But that’s another topic.” Hoseok mumbles, more to himself than you, and it looks as though his thoughts strayed elsewhere for a moment before he focused. “You should be thanking me.” He says, tilting his head to meet your gaze with a smile.
He couldn’t be seriously wanting you to thank him. For what? Saving you? For all you know it could’ve been one of his tricks. Why would you thank him? He says that you could leave if you like – him messing with you since you woke up says otherwise. He’s not actually giving you a choice. You’re not going anywhere unless he lets you.
When you remain silent, he leans forward, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “There’s nothing for you out there, though.”
You know he’s right. But that doesn’t justify what he’s doing. You assume he doesn’t care, if you were him, you wouldn’t feel the need to abide by law either.
You’d never been much for fantasy stories, growing up you were well aware that they were just that – stories. Your parents weren’t very religious, but you’d say grace before meals, pray before you go to sleep and when you woke up. Your parents would sometimes quote the bible when you were being naughty and every now and again you’d find yourself in a church for Sunday mas.
Your father used to say that the bible is a book of stories and lessons, and even if you aren’t to abide strictly by it, you should at least heed it. There’s someone up above, watching always.
The angels in the bible were described differently than the man before you, you think. Can angels really do things so bad that it gets them casted out?
Did he do something bad that got him sent here like some wayward child sent off to boot camp?
Even if a part of you is ever doubtful, his existence proves the existence of a higher being and you have some choice words for them.
In the days that go by, you remain wary of Hoseok. You don’t trust him, but you appreciate him letting you hover about him anytime he makes you something to eat. He makes everything from scratch and you wonder most of the time if it’s a skill he just has or was it something he had to hone on his own.
He barely bothers you, goes about his business, which really, entails him sitting in the living room and ignoring you.
Some days is another story entirely. You came to realise quickly that Hoseok is fond of games, usually at your expense. A shadow following you here, whispers that come from no where and bounces off the walls.
There are moments when you catch glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye – a figure lurking in the darkness, just beyond your line of sight. When you turn to look, there’s nothing there, leaving you to wonder if it was ever really there at all. You’ve seen shit at the corner of your vision way too many times for it to be a coincidence. You try to brush them off as tricks of the mind, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.
Hoseok is always there when it happens, some sort of mirth in his eyes like your suffering is amusing.
The feeling of being watched becomes a constant presence, a weight on your shoulders that you can’t shake no matter how hard you try. Every time you turn around, you half expect to find Hoseok lurking in the shadows, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.
For the first week it’s been this way, and when the second week started, he’d leave at one point during the day. Bored of you most likely, not that you’re complaining; at least he was no longer trying to send you crazy.
He’d give you the same instruction he did the night be brought you, use anything you need with additions of ‘Don’t cause trouble’ and ‘Stay put’. You always roll your eyes at that, the door remains the same; missing it’s handle. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to.
You would stand in the living room, which looks much like the rest of Hoseok’s penthouse apartment; sleek and dark. There’s a few accents of white and red, black leather couches and clear glass tables. A flat screen TV you’ve never seen used mounted on the wall, a fluffy white rug covering the space between it and the couch. You’ve seen no other electronics besides that, nothing that you can use to contact anyone.
He’d left you things to occupy your time – like you’re a child – books and puzzles and what have you. And you found that the TV works if you become bored of the other things.
Weirdly enough, there’s people outside and below, unlike the night you came when it looked like a ghost town. You can see the glint of the sun bouncing off of shiny cars driving in and out of the hotel’s compound. Little people walking around as they go about their days, oblivious to your plight.
Sometimes you would hear someone out in the hallway beyond the door, like someone coming to clean and you would bang on the door and be as loud as you possibly could. It’s like you’re a ghost. You asked him about that once, and he told you that he can mimic spaces, make it seems as though something is or isn’t there.
Sometimes Hoseok would come back from his little excursions and be as normal as he could be. He’d talk to you like he isn’t holding you captive, ask you about what you did for the day as though there’s a million and one things you could do while there. You’d answer as to not be on the wrong side of him, even though it’s clear that he doesn’t quite mind you not saying anything back. He’d ask you what you’d like for dinner, and he’d eat with you.
On days like those it feels... normal. You feel comfortable and the nature of the situation escapes you. Like this had been your life for as long as you could remember. And sometimes you think, that maybe, if things were different. If perhaps he hadn’t kidnapped you, ‘helping’ you or otherwise. Maybe if your life had gone a little differently and you’d met him under different circumstances...then maybe.
Sometimes on those days he’d sit quietly as you give him little pieces of you; telling him about your childhood and not so important things. He’d clear the coffee table to put a puzzle together and ask you to help him with it.
Some days he’d come back and he wouldn’t be in a good mood. He’d stand and brood at the large windows looking out, lost in thought. On those days he’d look gone, vacant, as though whatever going on in his head was paramount to the reality around him. His eyes are sad then, and he’d be so quiet you’d forget he’s there. He’d make dinner, and he would not eat.
On days like those, if you wake at night and venture out of your room, you’d find Hoseok as you did the night you first woke up. A swirling ball of shadows and smoke somewhere about, and the lights are always off. It scares the hell out of you every time. It reminds you of what he is, despite the nature of his existence, there’s something very dark about him. He scares you mostly, even when he’s being nice, it’s unnerving. You’d try to stay clear of him then.
Something in your mind had been made aware that he is beyond your understanding. He’s stronger and faster than you, can do things that makes your brain grind to a halt trying to process. Sometimes it feels like he’s in your head, watching your every move and surveying your every thought. It scares you.
On days like those, the last thing you want to do is sleep.
Sleep evades you and when you do finally catch it, your dreams are wrought with nightmares of shadows and screams and blood. Sometimes Hoseok is there and he’s less kind than he’s ever been, and you’re lost in darkness and can’t find your way out.
Sometimes it’s a man with red hair lurking at the corners of them, smiling and taunting you. You feel like you could never escape them, like your dreams lasts the entire night and leave you exhausted when you wake up.
The room you woke up in so long ago was yours; Hoseok stays clear of it and never enters without knocking. One day Hoseok had brought you clothes you’re certain costs more than your life, they’re mostly comfort clothes as you have nowhere to be at no point in time. From sweaters to tee-shirts, lounge pants to bicycle shorts and an assortment of underwear that made you scowl at him.
That day you asked him just how long he was going to keep you captive – he didn’t much like the use of that word, prefers ‘keeping you safe’. He told you about the mysterious animal that chased you in the fog, that he and a friend are looking into it and reminds you that you wouldn’t get very far should you leave. You reminded him that he’s not letting you go anywhere.
You stare up at the ceiling, counting the swirling pattern from one corner to the next. You’ve lost count of them every time and you’ve lost count on just how long you’ve been here. Hoseok remains the same, fluctuating between rivalling the sun and being the moon that sometimes eclipse it.
It’s the morning of yet another day, and you can hear Hoseok moving about already. Sometimes you wonder if he ever sleeps...does he need sleep? He eats...that much is for certain, so by any rate he functions partially human.
You sigh softly, getting out of bed and shuffling your feet to the house slippers Hoseok gave to you. There’s the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen, the sound of Hoseok moving about, and it sounds like he’s in a good mood if his humming is anything to go by.
You wash up for the morning and get changed before carrying yourself out to the kitchen.
Hoseok looks devastatingly domestic and the smile he directs at you is enough to send your mind haywire. These past few days has been confusing for you. Though the initial fear you felt for him was there, lately, it’s been less. You’ve found yourself missing him when he goes off to do whatever he does during the day and you’re excited when he comes back. You’re chalking up the reason for that being that he’s the only person you’ve been in contact with for possibly a month or two.
On some of the days where he would come back and be less than happy, and the lights go out like they’re scheduled to and Hoseok is no longer tangible. When he hovers in a little ball of controlled chaos that blends into the darkness, you sit and wait. You wait until he’s there again and the lights are back on and he looks at you like you’re something he’s lost.
It confuses you as much as his smile that sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage in a dance that isn’t out of fear. You actually can’t remember when you’d stopped being afraid of him.
“I’m going out today.”
Your brows furrow, he’s never told you that he’s leaving before. He brings over a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sliced fruit. A sealed carton of orange juice and a glass for you.
“Okay...?”
Hoseok smiles, “Okay.”
::
When lunch came around, you’re sitting at the island watching Hoseok prepare the ingredients for whatever he’s going to make.
You don’t really feel the need to watch him as closely as you did when you first got here, now you simply do it because there isn’t anything better to do.
He moves in the kitchen like it’s a dance, turning to and fro with a grace you could only hope to have.
He’s already got something on the stove, some sort of sauce you think. It smells amazing and you’re looking forward to whatever it could be.
He looks a bit in his head, brows furrowed as he concentrated a little too hard to just be cutting an onion into crescent slices. He mutters something under his breath, turning to stir the contents in the pot before going back at the onion.
“Hoseok?” You call softly as he sets the onion aside in a bowl and pulls something else onto the cutting board. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s heard you, with just the steady sound of the knife hitting the board, he hums, glancing at you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
You can tell he’s in one of his moods, but he’s actively trying to be pleasant. He fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove and then turns the oven on to heat up. “What is it?”
His tone isn’t harsh, just a tad bit impatient.
“Is cooking just something that you can do? Or did you have to learn?”
He turns, pauses, stares at you for a moment and then chuckles, “It’s a skill I acquired through a lot of trial and error. I had a long time to perfect it, though.”
“How long are we talking?” You’re a little intrigued, besides him telling you that he’s a fallen angel, he hasn’t told you exactly how he became one or how long he’s been here.
He tilts his head and smiles gently in the way he does when he’s thinking if he should answer you honestly or not before shrugging, “Long enough.”
You sigh, “Fine. Don’t tell me. You’re probably older than dirt anyway.”
A surprised laugh leaves him, high pitched and a little untamed. The sound is infectious and now you’re laughing too.
Happiness looks good on him, you wish he wore it often.
When it was about four in the afternoon, you hear the closing of Hoseok’s door and the sound of his footsteps walking up the hall.
You’re curled up against the corner of the couch, tucked under a yellow blanket with a book in your hand. You smell him before you see him; the cologne he’s wearing reaching the room before he does.
He steps in and stands near the entrance, the end of his coat brushing against his shins while he secures a watch to his wrist. His hair’s grown longer since he brought you here, curling against his jaw and the bangs are long enough to almost hide his eyes if not for the middle part. The rings on his fingers catch the light of the sun, and he finally settles, a serious look on his face as he watches you for a moment.
He seems to be contemplating something, the muscle of his jaw tensing as he grinds his teeth. He lifts a hand and crooks a finger at you.
Unwrapping yourself from the blanket, you walk over to him. He doesn’t say anything, but levels you with a look and guides you into the hallway with a hand at your back. “I’m leaving the door alone.”
The door is practically singing your freedom, the silver handle looks like a lighthouse at a stormy sea at night. Hoseok is looking down his nose at you when you finally tear your eyes away. His eyes narrow as though he can hear your thoughts and steps away from you.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
And you didn’t. You messed around with the TV, got bored, read another book, and decide to take a nap. Doing it all to ignore the door. You wouldn’t get very far. You really don’t want to know what Hoseok meant by that.
There isn’t anywhere you can go, you have nothing to your name. You get three square meals, clean clothes and a bed to sleep in when night comes – you think about Abigail, you wonder if she’s alright – you’d actually be quite dumb to go out there. Hoseok hasn’t done much but mentally exhaust you, you aren’t chained up in a dank room and being made to do things against your will. It’s actually quite pleasant.
You shuffle to your room and crawl under the covers, suddenly too sleepy to keep your eyes open. You would usually take naps when there’s nothing else for you to do, but you’re never this sleepy. It’s like your body is demanding you close your eyes and pass out right now.
You open your eyes a couple of minutes later and realise you didn’t know you fell asleep. It’s dark out already.
You throw the covers back, scoot to the edge of the bed, and put your feet right into water. You look down at it confused – did you leave a tap on? Hoseok would probably throw you out a window for flooding his place. Or maybe he’ll start up his silly mind games again and drive you nuts.
You’re not too concerned about it, strangely enough, as you get up, the water soaks into the legs of your pants. It’s high enough to lap against the middle of your shins and you curse softly, how could you forget to turn the tap off?
You swish through the water, reaching the door and pulling it open. The water is gone and you’re standing in the living room. Hoseok sits on the couch, one leg lapped over the other, bobbing idly as he turns the page of a thick book balanced on his thigh.
“Hoseok.” You sigh, “Stop it. I’m not in the mood for your stupid games.”
He turns his head slowly to look at you, crooks a finger like he did at you earlier. You stomp over to him, not caring that you probably look rather childish doing so. When you stop in front of him, he gently puts the book aside and then wraps his fingers around your wrist.
Your pulse flutters and you pray that he can’t feel it. A soft squeak leaving you as he tugs you to him, you fumble to catch yourself, trying not to trip over your feet and the carpet. Your hand lands beside his head, sinking into the leather, his eyes meet yours through his hair, and when he pulls you down, you follow without question.
He settles you in his lap, one hand gripping your waist and the other snaking upward to bury itself into your hair. He leans forward, nosing along the underside of your jaw and when the warmth of his tongue streaks against your pulse, a shiver races down your spine before you catch yourself. You push against his shoulder, “Hoseok.”
His chuckle sounds dark to your ears, his grip on your waist tightens enough that you fear you’d bruise. His teeth drag against your earlobe and yours sink into your bottom lip. “Don’t act like this isn’t what you want.”
His words wrap around your head, burying themselves under your skin and makes home there. The hand in your hair slowly slides out of it, moving down until it’s wrapped around your throat. His thumb presses against your racing pulse, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You want me to break you.”
It’s a moment of bliss, warmth spreading through you before it instantly chills. It’s all fun and games until he’s actually trying to choke you out. Your breaths come in shallow gasps as Hoseok’s grip tightens around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic surges through you, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ll pass out from lack of oxygen.
He’s going to kill you.
Desperate, you claw at his hands, trying to pry them away, but his strength overwhelms you. Your struggles intensify as you realize the danger you’re in.
He stands swiftly and lets you go, and you crash unceremoniously into the glass coffee table, nearly breaking your wrist trying to catch your weight. You cough and gasp, clutching at your throat that burns with every breath you take. Your eyes sting with tears as you scramble to put distance between you and him.
He watches you, amused, taking slow steps towards you. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and you realise – there’s nowhere to run.
You look up at him, and you’re now facing the windows. The LEDs that line the perimeter of them are glowing a sinister red and they’re the only source of light. There’s something slick under your palms, something you slide in as you try to get up. Inspecting it in the lighting does nothing, as it simply looks dark against your skin, but, there’s no mistaking the scent of copper.
Gazing around, you’re sitting in a pool of blood. Hoseok is nowhere to be found. The pool stretches off like something was dragged through it, going out the living room and down the hall.
You follow it, against your better judgement. This is the worst trick he’s ever played.
Your pants stick to your skin uncomfortably, and you wipe your hands hurriedly against the front of them. It doesn’t do much but spread the mess of blood around. The trail leads into your bedroom, and you stand outside the slightly ajar door with your heart pounding against your ribs.
Raising a hand, you push the door open, but plan to go no further than the threshold. The lights are on, dimly, it doesn’t give you much vision, but you could see Hoseok standing over someone.
It’s you, well...it was you. You’re not sure if you could call that you anymore. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles, sharp ends of bone sticking out from your bruised skin.
You stumble backwards, slipping in the still wet trail of blood and falling against the door behind you. Tears blur your vision, you feel sick.
“You see?” a voice whispers, echoing and bouncing around in your head. “This is what will happen.”
There’s someone else here.
“He’ll kill you.” The voice snickers, crawling along your skin like poison ivy. “Run. Get out.”
You startle awake, gasping for air, searching your body for any sign of blood. The sun is almost setting, preparing to make its descent in the west and you dart out of bed. Your skin feels tight, like you’re too big for it and it makes you uncomfortable. Your breaths are harsh barely making it into your lungs before you’re forcing it out again.
You make for the door, yanking it open and running down the hall. You didn’t stop to think, you just want out. You push the entrance door and it opens and you stumble out into the hallway you haven’t seen in ages.
You run up to the elevator, the overhead floor indicator is blank. And the elevator doesn’t budge when you push the button frantically. Hands caught in your hair you spin around, there must be a way.
The green exit sign glows like a beacon of hope. You trip over your feet getting to it, almost face planting on the expensive rug that lines the hallway. The door opens with a click and your footsteps echo in the stairwell as you take them two at a time to get as far away from this place as possible.
You don’t stop until you’re three flights down, breath ragged and vision spotty. You lean against the wall to catch your breath, panting and wiping the sweat off your brow.
There’s a loud bang that echoes from somewhere below and you freeze. Taking careful steps you peek between the railings and see nothing.
It might be Hoseok.
Or, it could be someone else in the building and your only hope of getting out of here.
“Hello? Is someone ther—” There’s another loud bang, and you take a couple steps down the fourth flight and look over the railing again. A thick fog swirls just a floor below.
The hair on the back of your neck shoots up at the low growl that dances up the stairwell. You nearly go tumbling down it in your haste to turn around and go back up.
As you turn to go back up the third flight, the fog surrounds you and you stop as it becomes impossible to see. You grip tightly to the stair railing, tentatively stepping up – You’re trying not to breathe too loudly.
There’s something scraping against the ground on the stairs below and your heart kicks. You step faster, at the same time trying not to trip and break your neck. There’s a low snarl and you bolt, taking the stair two at a time back up the way you came.
The floor vibrates beneath you as whatever it is gives chase. You make it up to the first landing, pulling the exit door open with a grunt. You’re just about to step through when what feels like three hot butcher knives slices through your back. The force of it sends you pitching forward, smacking hard into the wall on the opposite side before you crumple against it.
You could barely feel it, you’re aware you’re hurt...you could feel the pulsing, open wounds at your back. Your mind is trying to process as you struggle to move, taking a breath aches as you push yourself upward and away from the wall just enough to turn. You don’t manage much more than that, sliding down the wall until your butt hits the pretty red carpet.
The metal door of the emergency exit swings open harshly, banging loudly against the wall before it leans forward; one of the hinges broken. The thing that stands in the doorway looks like it crawled out of some deep, dark part of hell. It’s standing on it’s hind legs before it drops forward, claws that look at least nine inches long scraping against the linoleum.
It looks like a giant dog, honestly. It’s hard to tell when all you could focus on was that you could feel your heartbeat at your back, and the slick warmth soaking into your ruined sweater and pants. Shock maybe...or adrenaline, was keeping most of the pain at bay, you’re pretty sure you’d be dead otherwise right now.
With a guttural growl, the creature emerges, its form contorted and twisted, as if it were forged from the very essence of nightmares.
Its body is a grotesque fusion of twisted flesh and sinew, its skin a sickly shade of mottled grey, stretched taut over bulging muscles that ripple with every movement. Sharp spikes protrude from its spine, glinting menacingly in the dim light, while its black eyes burn with a fiery intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul.
The creature's mouth curls into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth stained with blood. Its breath is a noxious cloud of decay and sulphur, filling the air with a suffocating stench that makes your stomach churn.
As it lurches forward on all fours, its movements are unnaturally fluid, each step sending tremors through the ground beneath you. It’s trying to squeeze its way through the small space of the doorway, too big to pass through, and you could do nothing but watch.
Your vision goes hazy as you simply stare at the creature.
The adrenaline is fading and you’re starting to feel your wounds, but maybe if you could crawl towards the door...
At six pm on a Friday evening, Hoseok isn’t at all surprised to see the line of people waiting to get into the club. It’s still a long way to opening, but with the prestige of this place, again, he isn’t surprised.
He was with Yoongi when he bought the place, watched him build it from the ground up. Watched his taste for the interior bounce around erratically until he settled, as the clientele flickered from the common club goer to people – if they had enough money – buying their way in.
Haegeum is on the high-end of the city, the type of place where you’d wonder if folks had enough money to burn just because. Yoongi doesn’t discriminate and all are welcomed.
The queue is a mix of people: folks dressed to the nines just to step a foot in the place, those of which would most likely be sitting pretty in the VIP section. People just looking for a place to escape to for a while, teenagers holding tight to their fake Ids and clinging to their friends. They mingle in groups or alone, their chatter filling the air with a soft buzz of voices and hushed giggles.
Hoseok takes everything in with an air of nonchalance as he strolls by.
The bouncer at the heavy black door stands stoically, clipboard in hand for VIP clients. Hoseok breezes past him when he opens the door to let him in, stepping into the entrance foyer, illuminated by dim red lights. He walks down the hall, and down the dark metal staircase into the main floor of the club.
The above head white florescent lights do nothing to take away from the grandeur of the club, though, Hoseok likes it better when it’s late and the lights are off. The main floor is usually accented in lights of blue and red, casting shadows streaking along the sitting area. Embedded into the walls are velvet couches that flow with the design in a sort of snake like shape, a short-legged coffee table and single seated chairs dotted between every inward curve. There’s a wide enough walkway for two people walking side by side to pass, a partition of glass, and on the other side of it, black leather couches and even more glass coffee tables.
The walls are interesting, and Hoseok thinks this because he doesn’t know why Yoongi likes it so much. In large arched alcoves sits head statues of Greek gods of mortal tales, staring lifelessly into the distance, bathed in dark blue light. Between every two are columns that resembles those of a temple, and smooth grey stone. Hoseok honestly doesn’t know which vibe Yoongi is going for, not that he’d say it to his face.
He walks down the little walkway, down another set of stairs and across the dance floor. The bar is tucked in a corner, glasses being wiped by one of Yoongi’s employees behind it. Hoseok offers the man a nod of his head, moving towards the staircase that curves with the wall and upwards.
Yoongi’s office veers just off the VIP lounge, set behind large mahogany doors. And Hoseok doesn’t bother knocking. The room looks pretty much the same as it’s always had: dark walls with darker patterns, a maroon carpet lining the floor, abstract paintings hanging on the walls that allude to a darker nature, and in the far corner on the wall between two paintings is a golden blade dagger behind a mounted glass case.
“...Pick your side, kid. It’s either you’re with me, or against me.” Yoongi’s voice is cold, not angry per se, but reeking in annoyance that chills rather than burns. “And trust me when I say that you don’t want me as your enemy. I don’t play nice.”
There’s a young man standing in front of Yoongi’s large desk, his hands behind his back where one hand squeezes the other in bouts of nervous jitter. There are bruises on his knuckles, and even from behind, Hoseok could tell that he’s trying to fit into a crowd that doesn’t suit him. Haegeum isn’t just a club but a base of operations so to speak, in the middle of this high-end city, its easy for Yoongi to wrack up a certain clientele. People who seek a different ease of mind and has a different lifestyle.
Hoseok leans against the door, watching the scene play out, as the young man bows slightly and Yoongi waves his hand at him.
“Keep shadowing Seonghwa and Hongjoong for the week, and I don’t want any trouble this time.” He says dismissively, and the boy turns to leave. As Hoseok catches his eye, something akin to a bolt of lightening shoots down his spine. It isn’t noticeable to the more ordinary folk, but Hoseok isn’t ordinary, and neither are Yoongi and the rest of his boys.
The air crackles with static, raw, untrained power that itches Hoseok the wrong way. The boy stands there clearly a moment too long, and Yoongi’s knuckles raps against the table top. “Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun gives a soft apology, and quickly walks towards the door. Hoseok opens it for him, not out of kindness, but purely to give him a long unbroken stare. He smiles as the boy struggles to hold his gaze, even as the hair on the back of his neck stands on end at his proximity.
When he shuts the door behind him, Yoongi is already watching him with a raised brow. Hoseok wanders over to the leather armchair at the front of Yoongi’s desk and sits, shifting around until he’s comfortable in it. “I thought they were a myth.”
“Obviously they’re not.” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head as he sieves through a stack of papers scattered on his desk before he finds what he’s looking for. “Kid wanted in, so I let him. More trouble than it’s worth, honestly. But, the Nephilim are stronger than the order, so I gave it a shot.”
Hoseok hums, and Yoongi seems to catch himself, narrowing his eyes at him. The scar that runs through his right eye looks pink and irritated in the motion and the overhead lights. “What are you doing here?”
“What? I can’t visit?”
If Yoongi narrows his eyes any more, he’d close them, “I think you know better than anyone that you’re never here.” He says, “You’re absent more often than not, so I have the right to ask. Did you do something? I’m not cleaning up any more of your messes.”
Yoongi pushes back his chair, walking across the room to the mini bar he has tucked in the corner. He pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of whisky from a long necked crystalline bottle. He takes a sip and turns leaning against the bar’s edge. “Last time was enough trouble.”
“You’d clean it up anyways.” Hoseok says, leaning his head back against the chair, tilting his head to look at Yoongi. “I found something fun to do.”
Yoongi stares at him for a moment, quiet, contemplative, “Causing a different type of trouble, I see.” He chuckles, “Don’t break her.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Hoseok smirks, and then frowns a little. With all Yoongi’s prowess and danger, he’s gone a little soft around the edges, and he could see that softness in his eyes as he looks off into the distance. Surely thinking about the mortal girl that has him wrapped around her little fingers like bubble gum.
“You’ll learn.” Yoongi says cryptically, and it reminds Hoseok that he’s never really sure what Yoongi is thinking. Sometimes he’s an open book and Hoseok could read him like one, easy to figure out in the way that he moves, and sometimes he’s sealed tight.
Yoongi drains his glass of whisky, setting it down with a clink on the bar top before walking back over to his desk. “Since you’re here...” He opens a drawer and pulls out a thick black file, “Give this to Seonghwa.”
Hoseok takes the file and opens it, reading over the contents. There’s a man on Yoongi’s black list that’s due a checking in. “You let him and Joong have all the fun.”
“You’re too messy.” Yoongi retorts, “I said I’m not cleaning up after you.”
Hoseok shrugs, and gets up, skirting around the back of the chair and walking towards the door.
“Hobi.” Yoongi calls, “I don’t have to remind you that there’s a meeting at the end of the month, right?”
“I’ll be here.” Hoseok says, as the look in Yoongi’s eyes gave no room to say anything else.
He leaves the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click and lets the tension roll off his shoulders. He goes back the way he came, black file in hand, towards the VIP section where he knows Seonghwa would be lurking. He walks down the little walkway, through the identical couches and tables on raised platforms that overlook the main floor of the club.
At the end, there’s a small section of booths, black velvet and low lit, and standing with his back to him is Hongjoong. He seems to be busy, twin pistols in pieces on the booth’s table, cleaning supplies set up neatly in a little row. Hoseok saunters over, and throws his arm over the man’s shoulders.
Hongjoong doesn’t spare him a glance but sighs softly through his nose. “I’m busy, Hoseok.”
“Where’s your shadow?” Hoseok asks, and waves the file at him, “Yoongi has work for you two.”
“When doesn’t Yoongi have work for us.” Hongjoong slides away from under Hoseok’s arm, sitting down in the booth to avoid him all together. There’s a dull glint of light as the fixtures catch on the gold diamond studded crucifix that swings against the white of Hongjoong’s tee-shirt.
Hoseok clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
The dark bangs of his hair, which are usually styled away from his forehead, falls into his eyes when he glances upward at Hoseok. He picks up the cleaning solvent and pours a bit of it into the cap before dropping a cotton patch in to let it soak, then, he wraps the patch around the bristles of a small bore brush.
“Seonghwa isn’t here, he’s out back.” Hongjoong picks up the dismantled gun barrel, sliding the bore brush through until the now dirty cotton patch pokes out from the other end. The scent of the solvent burns Hoseok’s nose, and he leaves Hongjoong be, going back down to the main floor and through the emergency exit. The exit sits in the middle of an alleyway that connects two streets, and Hoseok catches sight of Seonghwa’s faux fur coat on one end.
Smoke curls away from his form with a light wind and brings the scent of a cigarette as Hoseok walks with quiet steps towards him. He’s laughing at something, phone in hand, and Hoseok drops his hand heavily on his shoulder and feels the way he immediately tenses.
“I’ve told you one too many times, Seonghwa.” Hoseok says, stepping to the side and around him, “Always be on your guard.”
There’s a glint in the way that he sneers, pulling away from Hoseok’s grip. He takes a couple steps back, watching Hoseok as though he spat at his feet.
“Aw, don’t look at me like that. Makes me all tingly.” Hoseok teases mockingly with a smile, and then offers the file to him. “Here.”
Seonghwa shoves his phone into the pocket of his coat, taking the file and looking through it. He takes one last drag of the cigarette between his fingers before tossing it. He raises a perfect brow at Hoseok and tilts his head, something like amusement in his eyes. “You don’t show up for weeks, and now you’re just Yoongi’s errand boy.”
Hoseok chuckles and it’s dark, low in his throat. “Seonghwa.” He takes a step closer, “Don’t forget your place.”
It’s irritating how Seonghwa doesn’t back down, the way he looks at Hoseok as though he’s beneath him. He stands tall and proud with his chest puffed out like a peacock, and Hoseok knows he’s about to say something stupid without using that brain of his first.
“Don’t act like we’re not in the same boat.” Seonghwa scoffs, and even before he opens his mouth, Hoseok could see the thought in his eyes, glowing like an ember in the dark. He sees the minute curl at the corner of his mouth and the glow of the street light that catches on the pretty studded silver of his teeth. “You got your ward killed, and killed the man that killed her. There’s no hierarchy among murderers.”
Hoseok takes a breath, and he feels the heat rising from the tips of his toes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the images he’s locked away floods out of the steel box he’s put them in. The little girl he’d been guardian to, her short, miserable and painful life. Found end at the hands of someone she had the misfortune of being born to. It was too late – he was too late, when he’d found her. And just like then, Hoseok sees red.
Warm, gushing red that spill into the creases of his fingers when he swings his fist at Seonghwa’s face. The black file and the papers within scatter on the wind.
Hoseok doesn’t let the surprise and force send the younger man stumbling back too far, and grabs hold of the front of his coat, curling his fingers into the material tightly. He kicks at his knee, and when he’s forced to kneel, Hoseok leans down to his height.
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who lost his wings for something so trivial; your sin and mine are two different things.” Hoseok sneers, and he’s so mad he could set Seonghwa on fire and watch him dance. “But I can remind you exactly why Yoongi doesn’t bother to have me involved.”
Someone pulls Seonghwa back, dragging him up to his feet. “The fuck are you two doing?”
There’s a tick in Seonghwa’s jaw that doesn’t go unnoticed and his eyes stay locked with Hoseok as he straightens. He should think twice, Hoseok knows he knows better.
Hongjoong shoves at Seonghwa’s shoulder, “Go pick that shit up.”
Yeonjun stands at the open doorway of the emergency exit, watching with wide eyes, looking like he’s halfway to backing out on his choice to get into Yoongi’s ranks. Hongjoong eyes Hoseok warily, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Seonghwa was doing as told.
Hoseok’s gaze burns a hole into the back of Seonghwa’s head as he moves around to pick up the scattered papers while Hongjoong stands like a watchdog.
Hoseok shoves his hands into the pockets of his black coat, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. “You boys be good, now.” He says in parting, turning on his heel and walking out of the alley.
“What the fuck did you say to him?...”
Hoseok walks up the street, through the throngs of people still waiting to get into Haegeum. His phone vibrates in his coat pocket, with a sigh he pulls it out and answers.
“Yes, Cheol?”
“Hey, remember when you asked me to tell you when I’ve seen that weird fog?” Seungcheol sounds distracted, there’s a sharp sound from his end that has Hoseok pulling the phone away from his ear with a wince. He says something to someone else, voice too far away for Hoseok to catch, before he speaks again. “Couple of nights ago, it was in my area. Whatever’s in it is pretty good at hiding. It’s not the only thing in it either.”
Hoseok crosses the street, going in the opposite direction of which he came from. The people that line the sidewalk give him a wide berth as he weaves through them; unconsciously reacting to him being near.
“Didn’t see much of the guy, some twinky-looking redhead.” Cheol sighs, “I think the fog is like a domain. If you get lost in it, it’s like there’s no-one in there but you. Like a mirror realm.”
‘They who fight monsters should be careful, lest they become a monster themselves. And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’
What defines a monster? Something that goes beyond human comprehension, something that stands outside the bounds of what is morally accepted. Something that a person fails to understand and is therefore scared by. Something that make stories entertaining because they’re meant to be defeated in the end. They’re meant to be slain and mounted like trophies, pinned up for grotesque display of heroism.
What defines a creature that goes beyond human comprehension? White coloured morals and the freedom to help in the way it needed. He stopped being what he was created to be, and instead became something that someone needed the most. He did everything right. He had his head in the right place, he was determined to see it through to the end.
He was a little too late.
Over the years, Hoseok could no longer recall just how late he was. If it was by seconds or minutes, or an hour by a half. When he was finally strong enough to move, he traced the memory of a place he’d seen for years, all the way to a house where his charge waited inside.
She was always afraid. Alone, trapped with a monster of man’s making. A child he’s watched since the moment of her birth, watched her grow to be afraid and the light never reach her. By the laws of his nature he was forced to do nothing.
He was restricted to assisting in the only way he could. He couldn’t shield her physically, so he instead manipulated the monster in her closet. He made sure that his mind was changed, that he didn’t swing his claws as fiercely, that he slept deeply so that the child can have a night of rest.
He started to question, as he watched the monster that called himself a father, prey upon what he was meant to protect.
What’s the point? Is he not allowed to stop this? Why can’t he stop this? He could stop it because he has the power to do so.
The ideology was shared by another, and together, hubris.
Hoseok fell with pride; he fell with the intention to seek his ward out and help her. Even if he had no idea what was to come afterwards. Stripped of his grace and the feathers of his wings burned away, it didn’t matter to him.
He went as quickly as his wounds allowed, which in retrospect, wasn’t quickly enough. She was only six. An awfully short time to the likes of him, even shorter to mortals, not enough time to live and laugh – she wasn’t allowed to even do that. He’d stood there, in the broken doorway of a broken home and watched as the monster of his ward’s nightmare became a man before him. Hoseok’s vision had tunnelled and in the centre was the broken body of the child he’d sworn to protect.
When the shadows on the walls grew tall and Hoseok’s mind closed in on itself and allowed those shadows to encase him, the man cried. He pleaded on his knees at the sight of his reckoning, begged for mercy when he gave none.
Then, Hoseok shattered. Scattered like tiny specs of dust floating on the wind, and under the heat and pressure of his own realisations, he turned into glass. With his sharp edges he cut into the man and reveled in it. The sounds of his pleas like the gentle strum of a harp’s string, and the warmth of his blood was a bath Hoseok sunk into.
What he was, was something that was no longer needed, and with his hands covered in blood and gore and mess he held tight to his reasons for being and cried for her. He became something else that only protected himself. While he locked everything away and allowed the shadows to stay. The light he’s trapped struggles to glow, to breathe, and some days Hoseok wants to snuff it out for good, to become the shadows he plays in.
He wouldn’t allow himself to reach that point, though. He still has a sense of himself, however skewed.
He owes Yoongi a lot, his partner in crime that he would follow to the ends of the earth. He never turned his back on him even as Hoseok changed to suit his troubles.
Hoseok remembers Yoongi standing at the doorway, catching up much later than he had. He stayed there quietly while Hoseok mourned the death of his ward and his tears made tracks in the blood that coated him.
Hoseok buried her away from her cursed home, far away and as deep as the roots of an old oak runs and salt floats on the air. Wild flowers bloom there, giving her the beauty in death she wasn’t allowed in life.
His chest aches as he stands there now. Under the shade of the oak tree where little speckles of the setting orange sun spills through leaves and dances along the space that he occupies. There’s a crinkle of plastic and Hoseok stares at the small bouquet in his grip. He chose every flower that reminded him of her: daises and lavender, lilies and snapdragons.
He lays it gently on the patch of grass that’s long grown over between two large protruding roots, mutters the same apology he does every time he comes by, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat as he straightens.
He’s sorry he wasn’t there in time.
He wished she was given a chance, and wondered if her death was his punishment. He wonders what it would’ve been like to watch her grow, safe and happy. What her favourite flower would’ve been, if she would’ve valued the little things. He would’ve given her everything – pulled the moon from the sky if she so desired it. He would’ve taken the stars and put them in her little hands for her to watch them shine.
He wonders if it would’ve been better had he waited a little longer. That maybe the slightest change would’ve brought about a different outcome.
Hoseok sighs, turns his head to watch the sun set, dragged behind the ocean’s edge far off in the distance. Something at the back of his mind wiggles and tugs. He knows something’s wrong and he’s in no mood to deal with it.
You’re dying...you think. Your hand slides against the floor and it takes a moment to realise it’s your blood you’re slipping in. You can barely feel the rest of your body, adrenaline pumping your blood out of the wounds at your back. The doors of the elevator doubles and swarms in your vision.
You see them open but it’s so hard to focus. Hoseok steps out and walks slowly to you, you can’t see his expression, but you faintly hear the long, drawn-out sigh he releases. Your eyes focus on the darkness that surrounds him, the way it curls like smoke. The shadows at his back are clearer to you than they’ve ever been – wings. Dark plumage that glitters with something silver in the light, the feathers are long, long enough that they drag behind his steps. If he were to unfold them they would easily span to the ends of the hallway.
He hardly gives you a glance, stopping in front of you. You can’t see the creature now – blocked by Hoseok’s wings – but you hear it growl, and the scraping of it’s claws against the floor. Something glints in his hand against the flickering lights, a short sword that looks like it was dipped in gold from the hilt and it ran down the edges of the blade.
He’s a blur as he moves and your tired eyes can barely keep up with him, if it weren’t for the small space and shadows his wings casted you would’ve lost sight of him completely.
The creature snarls and lashes out with its razor-sharp claws, but Hoseok is already one step ahead, dodging with effortless grace. He moves with a speed and agility that seems impossible in the space he occupies, closing in on the creature that growls and snarls at him. It’s forced to dislodge itself from the doorway, pulling back into the stairwell that gives it even less room to defend.
Hoseok’s wings fold tightly to his back as he follows, and you could only hear the sound of his weapon sliding through the air, the sound of the blade whistling and the increasingly irritated sounds from the creature. Hoseok ducks under a swiped claw, makes a spin on his knee, and switches the hands that holds his blade. It slices through the creature’s gigantic paw like it’s made of something soft, and through the other as it comes back down. The severed limb drops heavily on the ground before it dissolves into ashes and float upward.
The sound it makes grate on your ears, loud and sharp and you can’t bring your hands up to cover them, something warm trickles out of each.
Without it’s two front legs to support it’s weight, the creature drops forward, and Hoseok grabs hold of the first spike at the top of its head. With a flick of his wrist his weapon spins in his palm and he points the blade right between the creature’s eyes and pushes.
Golden light flashes, nearly blinding you on top of everything else, you can just barely hear the cry it makes this time as it writhes in agony. It’s monstrous form twists and contorts before finally collapsing to the ground in a heap.
Hoseok stands over the fallen beast, his weapon clenched tightly in his hand, watching intently as it’s body dissipates like ash from a fire.
With a satisfied nod, Hoseok sheaths his weapon and it vanishes, and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a mixture of something. You can’t tell, everything seems so dark and it’s hard to breathe. He approaches you slowly, his movements cautious as he assesses the extent of your injuries.
Hoseok crouches and you slowly look up at him, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth.
“I told you not to go anywhere, little dove.” He says softly, calmly, as though he’s telling you about his day and you’re not bleeding out in his hallway. “You’re so troublesome.”
You try to respond, but the words stick in your throat, drowned out by the rush of blood and the overwhelming sense of impending darkness. Hoseok’s presence feels both comforting and ominous, his wings casting elongated shadows that dance across the walls. You try to focus on his face, to find some semblance of reassurance in his eyes, but all you see is a blur of shadows and flickering light.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own laboured breathing.
Hoseok’s expression softens slightly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. He reaches out a hand to gently brush the hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the underlying tension in the air.
“Jesus...” Another voice says, the sound of footsteps hurrying close and the last thing you see is the shift of the hallway.
The night he found you out in the fog wasn’t the first time Hoseok had seen you.
By now, it would’ve been at least three months ago. You were alone, pacing around like a worried mother on a bridge over your perceived peace – had you decided to take it.
Human lives were no longer any concern to him; no consequence. He and his kind were here before and would be long after your kind has crumbled to dust and returned to the earth. He stopped then, and watched you contemplate the height of the bridge and the chill of the water below it; whether or not you’ll receive the mercy you seek. You’d cried for a long time on that bridge.
Hoseok is many things, but cruel is not one of them. He changed your mind and sent you away into the arms of someone that would care.
Hoseok has many contradictions. The darkness that he allowed entry fights the light, beating it into a corner where it cowers on most days. On those days he’s distant and struggling to contain it, he could taste malice on his tongue and the bitterness of it. The steel walls he painstakingly built with bloody and broken fingers are nothing more than barbwire fences; they do nothing to protect the glass figurines that make him whole.
Sometimes the glass are shards, sharp and unforgiving and willing to cut anything that gets too close. Sometimes they’re splintered panes and Hoseok is cutting his fingers to keep them in place. He curls in on himself, draws himself away, pushes everything outside his barbwire fence and tries to reinforce the walls. The darkness that swirls outside it seeps in and he can’t keep it out so he lets it fester and churn and he becomes intangible.
You weren’t there, and then, at some point, you were.
Sometimes...
Sometimes he’s standing in a grass field full of wild daises and the sun is warm and there’s salt in the air. The light peeks through the leaves of an old oak tree, and there’s a little girl who’s placed her life in his hands, who skitters about in the grass like something wild and free. She glows in her happiness, and nature stains her hands and the bottom of her white dress. She makes faces at him behind the trunk of the tree, smiles and hold his hands and tell him that it’s okay. It wasn’t his fault and he’s forgiven, he could let it go and be.
On those days, Hoseok feels like a still pool of water. The ones with lily pads and life, and everything’s alright. You’re always there then.
Hoseok knows of the fragility of humans. How easily they could shatter and break and suddenly be no more. He was something once, and then he became something else, and sometimes it’s hard to not be what he is. His darker nature prevails, and he doesn’t do much to stop it. Sure, sometimes he’s done things simply because he’s feeling particularly malicious and thinks that everyone should suffer – it’s almost always harmless.
He has a sense of himself, he knows when to stop, when things are taken too far and you can’t take much more of it. You eventually learnt to take it in stride and Hoseok was proud of that, though, a part of him thought it wasn’t nearly as fun anymore.
He would walk your dreams some nights when he was bored and had nothing better to entertain himself, his presence would sometimes bring his darkness and your dreams would not be as pleasant. He tried to walk through them less often.
When you were jumping at every little sound, the silence that Hoseok moves with and the way you’re less of yourself some days – he realised something. Not every nightmare was his doing, and the whispers in the walls of your dreams spoke of something else entirely.
The far, fuzzy edges of your vivid dreams where he’s reminded of things he’s tried very hard to lock away, lurks something red and more sinister than he.
He’s every reason to believe that hellspawn didn’t find it’s way here on accident, and for it to go undetected until the very last moment. It bothers him like nothing else has.
Though you lay peaceful now and Seungcheol had left after doing what he does best, the unease lingers in bouts under Hoseok’s skin, skittering about like electricity on a wire. His feelings where you’re concerned contradicts each other. Like oil on water he’s stuck in between wanting you close and keeping you at arm’s length. He likes when you’re near, but he likes when you’re far. A consequence of his nature, he toes the line of something sinister and could get dangerous and down right evil if he doesn’t reign himself in.
At a point he wasn’t quite sure what to do with you. He was just as confused on why he stopped you from ending your own life that night on the bridge and why he took you in that night in the fog. At first, he was just as wary of you as you were of him, despite the way he acted. He can’t help what he is.
On the days where he feels like splintered glass and he’s choking on his despair, you’d waited. You were there until the smoke cleared and your quiet presence helped put the glass back up and straighten out the posts in his fence.
He told Yoongi, there’s no fun in not breaking you. Yoongi said that he’d learn.
He can’t help what he is.
He could try, though.
He doesn’t want to break you, it’s a matter of cause and effect. You’re here with him, evidently, you’d be broken regardless. The most he could do is try. He could try to not be the straw, and try to not let outside forces become it.
He cares. He cares so much that sometimes he could taste it on his tongue. He cares that you smile when he’s earned it, that you eat well, that you greet him like a friend and then somewhere along get shy when you do. He cares if you live or die.
Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, opening them to blink away the image of you, helplessly laying in a pool of your own blood.
Fear. He’s has only felt it once, the fear that you would die and he would’ve failed again to protect someone.
He sips slowly at his glass of whisky, drinking in the sight of you. He thought you were smart enough to listen to him at least, trusted that you would stay out until he got back. Perhaps it was his mistake, but he wonders, and he ponders as you give a minute twitch in your sleep. Your eyebrows draw together and you murmur something unintelligible.
Hoseok sets his tumbler on your bedside drawer and pulls his chair closer. This is something he could easily do from another room, though, for what he’s about to do he would need to be touching you in some capacity.
Your dream had started off vividly, as most of your dreams have since you came here. Hoseok stands just in the corner of it, watching you wake within your dream and put your feet down into water.
He walks along the edge of it, watching it play out like a simulation, following behind you as you make your way down the hall towards the living room. He’s there and Hoseok isn’t surprised – it’s not the first time you’ve dreamt him.
He watches as your dreamscape version of him pull you into his lap and he feels a little offended and rolls his eyes – he didn’t even try to make it look sexy. Is this what you think of him? He isn’t half as tactless. Seduction takes finesse, and you clearly have no idea what that is.
Hoseok turns, gazing at the darkened edges of your dream.
There’s a shift and he feels it. It’s heavy like a wet blanket and seeps in like mist, and your dream changes accordingly.
He knows this feeling too well – the intrusion of an external force manipulating the dream, it’s faint enough that he knows it wasn’t in his apartment or anywhere nearby, but strong enough to reach so far.
Hoseok hovers hesitantly between the doorway of the living room and the hallway, and closes his eyes against the image of him hurting you.
He follows you as you follow blood, and he wishes you weren’t so frightened. He stays close to you, stepping where you’ve stepped as though he could protect you from something that’s already occurred. You push the door to your bedroom open and he wants to stop you, turn you around and shake you awake, but he can only watch.
You’re there and he is too, whispers skittering along the walls like mice, and Hoseok yanks himself out of your subconscious mind.
He feels like glass.
When you wake it’s dark and your back is sore like you fell from a high place and splatted against a body of water. The moment feels like déjà vu regardless as you swing your legs over the side of the bed with a wince.
The broken projector of your sleep-addled mind flickers in black and white cut scene imagines of the evening. Hoseok, the fog, the dog that crawled out of hell specifically for you – as you can only assume – things considered, you’re pretty certain you died at some point.
The dark unnerves you, it makes you feel like a kid as you pull your feet back up onto the bed, and pull the blanket up over your head and pulled tight between your fingers at your chest.
You scoot back, wiggling a bit until your back is pressed flush against the headboard. There’s no light seeping in from under your door, and you sink lower, curling into yourself and hold the blanket tighter.
There’s a prickling at the back of your neck that sends a shiver racing down your spine. Your head turns slowly to the left and notice the unnatural darkness of the space between the edge of the wall and the window pane. Relief blooms in your chest at the sight of it.
“...Hoseok.” You call softly, waving a hand into the dark. You wait for a moment, but the lights don’t come on and he doesn’t appear as he usually would.
Carefully, you unwrap the covers from around you and place your foot on the ground. Taking a moment, you count your fingers – it’s always hard to count them in your dreams. All ten are there, and you take a breath before standing.
The floor is cold, and you notice the carpet that’s usually under your feet is missing, and the silhouettes of the things you’ve made yours are different; this isn’t your room.
You approach the ball of chaos carefully, and stand five steps away from the space it occupies. This is the second time you’ve been close to it, the first time had been much closer and you hadn’t understood it then. You reach a hand out, and gently: “Hoseok...”
It slows, the shadows and wisps shifting gently like a leaf on a soft wind. It elongates into a vague outline and then, Hoseok stares through you before he sees you. He’s still wearing the clothes he left in earlier, coat and all, looking a little more than rattled even in the dark.
He raises a hand and it hovers by your cheek, thumb ghosting the skin like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The lights didn’t come back on and it’s hard to decipher his emotions in the dark.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft, barely a whisper in the darkness. Somewhere behind you, a lamp flickers on dimly and Hoseok looks like he’d shatter if you touched him.
“I’m okay.”
Hoseok’s hand drops slowly from your face as he blinks, as though waking from a dream. His gaze focuses on you, but there’s a vacancy in his eyes. For a moment, he seems almost confused, as if he’s not sure how he ended up here or what to make of your presence.
His touch is light, gentle, like he’s handling something fragile when his fingers brushes yours. You feel his fear, a palpable thing, thick and heavy. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure what to do with it.
He exhales softly through his nose, nods once and then his eyes are somewhere above your head. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” Your back sings a low hymn, achy and sore, but it’s nothing to fuss over. “I’m okay.”
There’s a lot of things you want to ask, but you can’t seem to pick one. You want to ask him about the fog and the creature, about his wings or how you’re even alive to mull over said questions.
Instead, you ask: “Are you okay?”
Hoseok looks unprepared for that, his eyes snapping back to yours and he flounders. His mouth opens and closes before he stares at you in that unnerving way he had your first couple of days here, like he’s trying to understand you. Like he could strip you down to atoms and see what makes you act the way you do and therefore comprehend the bases of your human nature.
“I’m...” He blinks, looks away, and a muscle beneath his right eye twitches, “I’m okay.”
He doesn’t sound convinced and you aren’t either, and where his hand brushes yours you reach out first. His fingers are cold and he looks down, staring at your hand like it’s something foreign, but his grip tightens. It’s quiet for a moment, he takes a breath that doesn’t seem to ease the weight he carries.
“You almost died.” He says quietly, brows furrowed as though he can’t understand his own concern. “When I brought you here...I did so with the intention to keep you safe.”
It’s quiet again and you wait, and wait.
Hoseok’s eyes mist, his breath shudders on the exhale. “I wasn’t here in time. Again. I—”
His hand in yours tremble, he’s looking through you again, not entirely here and he looks like a man haunted by ghosts he alone could see. You stumble a step back when he falls to his knees before you, but didn’t get far as his arms wound tight around your waist. There’s something strange about a creature such as him with all his prowess and tainted grace kneeling at your feet, and his words tumble from his mouth like his tears that soak into your borrowed shirt and he lets you hold the chain that drags behind him.
The weight is heavy, heavy enough that it grounds you and you listen to it rattle as Hoseok tells you everything. In a broken tone about a broken home and a child he couldn’t reach in time to save, about the shadows that he let hide the light and now he struggles to find it. The things he’s done since that would make the most wicked men cower.
You make the connection, as he lays himself bare before you. He peeled back the layers of his being himself and let you look inside; the bases of his nature, the connotations of his own sins. It makes sense to you now. The way he would change like the tide and his near obsessive, compulsive need to wrap you in bubble wrap and put you in a glass case. He’d long stopped scaring you and somehow became a comfort despite himself.
Maybe it’s circumstantial, or something else entirely, but you’ve grown to care for him and he’s been caring for you from the start. However skewed that was.
When he’s stopped his babbling, and he’s no longer crying, he still holds you tight, whispering apologies against the dampness of your shirt. You meet his height, gently pulling his arms away from you and you kneel, too. He blinks away the last of his tears and you catch them with your thumbs just under his red-rimmed eyes.
He’s no longer looking through you, one of his hands covers yours, his lips brushing delicately against your wrist when he turns his head; your heart flutters. He whispers something you didn’t catch, he closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them, he repeats: “You can leave if you want.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Will you stay, then?” He looks away when he asks, pressing his fingers against your palm in a way that tickles and distracts, and studies the lines of them quietly. “Stay here with me.”
There’s something like hope in his eyes that glints against the shadows that linger, shining like flecks gold in cracked rock. You nod slowly and he smiles easily, all teeth and heart shaped and his hand is warm when he cups your cheek with the one that isn’t holding yours.
“Your dream...” He says softly, and later you’d find that it troubled him the most; he would never do something like that – not to you. “I’m sorry.”
You store the fact that he knows about it at the back of your mind for later – later when he’s not pressing the pad of his thumb against the fullness of your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it. You’ve learnt to ebb and flow with him, a boat on his tide, taking the shift of his mood in stride.
There’s something in his eyes now that has nothing to do with how you found him earlier, something that makes you follow his lead, leaning in when he pulls you towards him. Deja vu accompanies the way he shifts, easing back and turning you as he does, leaning against a dresser you hadn’t noticed. He keeps his eyes locked with yours, directing your leg over his with a hand, and he settles you on his lap.
“This feels familiar.” He giggles, lifting his head to nose along your jaw and you’re reminded that he knows. Heat flares at the back of your neck and races up your ears, and when you push against his shoulders, he steadies and keeps you still with his hands on the top of your thighs and a click of his tongue against his teeth.
“I’m teasing.” He gives a crooked smile, tilting his head, “It’s cute that you think it’ll play out that way.”
“Isn’t it, though?” You blurt out, embarrassment forgotten. Honestly, the only thing that’s changed is the room, and when Hoseok pauses you smirk.
He smirks right back, something dangerous, and he chuckles, “Keep talking back. I like that.”
His hand slides up your back, and you don’t suppress the shiver that follows after it. The air grows heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You’re vaguely aware of your heart pounding, the rhythm matching the erratic thrum of your blood. He leaves a kiss where your jaw meets your neck, sucking lightly on the spot.
“Hoseok...” You start to say his name, but it comes out as a breathless whisper. You’re not sure what you intended to say, but the words get caught in your throat.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “What is it?” he asks, his voice rough with desire and darker still. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head, unable to form words.
With a low growl, he takes your silence as an invitation, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss you gasp into. It quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, as if he’s trying to devour your very soul. His other hand finds your hip, squeezing possessively.
You’re lost in the sensation, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours. The world has narrowed to the two of you, to this moment.
A soft moan escapes your lips, and he takes that as a cue, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sets your entire being ablaze.
His touch ignites a fire within you, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless, his hand sliding from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.
He pulls away slowly and you chase, he smirks against your kiss, and when he lifts his hips you feel the press of his arousal. His kisses trail, ghosting along your jaw, his tongue warm where your pulse thrums. He directs the shifts of your hips, grinding you down against clothed erection with a curse growled against your skin.
You follow the light tug of his hand in your hair, tilting your head back and to the side to give him more room to work. He hums appreciatively around your skin between his teeth and you hiss softly at the sting of the pull.
“So good for me.” He whispers when he pulls away. His fingers tap at your hip before he wraps his arm around, bracing the other against the dresser behind and stands easily.
A startled squeak leaves you, wrapping your arms around his neck even though he’s holding you steady. He reaches the bed in two strides, and drops you there, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
You bounce a bit amongst the soft sheets with a soft giggle before you settle. His index finger curls beneath your chin and tilts, thumb brushing along your bottom lip again, “Ah.”
You comply easily, and then his thumb is pressing against your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth and he hums when you wrap your lips around the digit. There’s a tick of his brow and the dull glint of his teeth when he smiles in the dim light of the singular lamp, and a darkness in his eyes that doesn’t scare you.
He tests the boundaries of what you’d allow, sliding his thumb along your tongue. His palm lays flat against your cheek, thumb reaching far until you feel the lurch of your stomach and pull back with a gasp.
He coos softly, leaning down just as he slips his finger out of your mouth to capture your lips in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. He nudges you back softly, large hands sneaking their way under your tee to reach your skin, desperate in a way that makes you think he’d die if he doesn’t.
He stops just shy of the undersides of your breasts, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. His breaths are shallow, he whispers your name, “I can get intense.”
“I know.”
“I could hurt you.”
“I know.”
He studies you for a moment, then, tugs gently on the hem of your tee-shirt, “Up.”
As you shift to sit, you’re not surprised to find you aren’t wearing anything underneath the tee-shirt and cotton shorts he’s put you in; dressing you properly must’ve been the last thing on his mind.
Hoseok stands back to shed his coat, dropping it carelessly on the floor. There’s a metallic clink as the buckle of his belt jingles, and the sound of it racing through the loops of his pants.
You – oddly – don’t feel ashamed under his gaze that sets a heat wherever it settles as he roams over your exposed upper half. Putting your weight on your hands, you lean back, watching Hoseok roll the long sleeves of his tee-shirt up his forearms.
His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he closes the distance again, climbing into the bed on his knees and coming up until they’re on either side of your thighs. Silently he trails a finger down the slope of your neck, it tickles across your collarbone and his fingers spread and palms your left breast.
Your breath hitches and he chuckles, and you know very well he could feel the shifting of your thighs as you rub them together seeking friction. It’s been ages since anyone’s touched you like this, all of Hoseok’s teasing isn’t doing you much good.
His lips meet yours, licking into your mouth, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. His fingers lightly pinch at your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand roams, goosebumps following it’s path down your side and stops where his fingers tease the band of your shorts.
Your hips buck as you whine and Hoseok pulls away, eyelids heavy, pupils all but gone, panting softly; looking drunk on you.
He smiles and makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. “Patience little dove.” He tuts, tilting his head at you, “I’ll give you what you need.”
He trails his fingers along the edges of your shorts before pulling them down and off, leaving you exposed to his touch. His hair tickles where it drags against your sensitive skin as he moves downward. He avoids where you need him most entirely and you squirm, a soft whine building in your chest.
He kisses and licks his way up your thighs, teasing you until you’re begging. Gently, he spreads your legs, kissing the inner thigh of your right before he rests it over his shoulder, pushing your other up and holding it there with a palm.
His dark gaze meets yours and you can’t hold it when he licks a hot stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. Your hand shoots down to grip his hair, back arching when his responding growl vibrates against your core.
With each stroke of his tongue, Hoseok explores every inch of your most sensitive areas. He laps at your clit, drawing out a series of gasps and moans that fill the room. You’re shaking and swearing as he eats you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit in figure eights and then dipping into you. He moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.
Your hands curl into the sheets, fingers digging in as if to anchor yourself. You’re lost in the sensations, a whirlwind of pleasure that leaves you breathless. And you wonder, briefly, if this was just something he was good at or something he had to hone.
His arm draping over your hips was the only warning you got before his lips wraps around your clit and sucks. Your back arches with a pitched moan and he slips a finger into your heat, and groans when you clench and gasp his name.
Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your vulnerability. Yet, paradoxically, it’s this vulnerability that fuels your desire, pushing you to new heights. You’re a wild thing now, driven by pure, primal need.
From between your legs, Hoseok watches your reactions, a dark-haired god feasting on your pleasure. His gaze is intense, a silent promise that he’ll take you to the edge. He adds another finger and they curl against your g-spot and it brings about your undoing.
If your arousal was a fire, Hoseok just threw gasoline on it just to watch it explode. He keeps hips lips around your clit as it throbs, fingers dragging along your fluttering walls and your eyes squeeze shut. You could barely breathe, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you gasp his name.
“Good girl.” Hoseok praises, lips brushing your clit and your thighs tremble. He rubs his hand gently over your stomach while you come down, and evilly, bites your thigh with a dark chuckle.
“Hoseok...” you whine as he laves his tongue over the stinging spot.
“Hm?” He smiles, “Want more, little dove?”
You almost cry as he changes course, pulling away entirely, and makes it clear he revel in your suffering when he coos mockingly, standing now.
He slowly unbuttons his pants, slowly pulls his legs out of them one after the other, smirking at you all the while. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the strain his cock against his black boxer briefs and you don’t miss the near inaudible sigh of relief from Hoseok at the change in pressure.
He crooks a finger at you, and shuffles closer as you do. He stands at the edge of the bed, and he sinks his fingers into your hair, brushing it back as you look up at him. He looks down his nose at you, and raises a brow, “Be a good girl now, dove. Or do I have to teach you?”
“I know how to suck cock you ass.”
Hoseok shrugs, a playful smile shifting his expression as he gently squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, “Is all that little mouth good for talking back to me?”
“You said you like that.” You say defiantly.
Hoseok hums, “Have your fun then,” He says, smiling, “Won’t be able to say much in a bit, anyway.” He tugs on your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to signal his impatience.
Funny, he was preaching patience is a virtue a while ago.
You scoff softly, holding your weight with a hand and tugging his boxers down with the other. His cock springs out, long and thick enough that you wonder if it would fit anywhere. It’s flushed red at the tip and leaking pre that beads and dribbles down the underside, and maybe if you focus enough you could just about see the throb of the vein that runs along side. A breath hisses through Hoseok’s teeth when you wrap your fingers around him, his eyes shut and his head tilts back.
Your eyes meet his when you slowly drag your hand down the length of his shaft, teasing him like he did you; turnabout is fair play. His hold in your hair tightens just a bit, eyes narrowing.
“Dangerous game you’re trying to start.” He murmurs, “I don’t take well t – fuck.” He hisses, the word tapering off into a low groan as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.
The slightly salty taste of him bursts against your tongue and you hum, twisting your wrist as you bring your hand back up to meet your mouth and follow it down again. The saliva that escapes from the corners of your mouth helps with the glide.
You take a breath through your nose and relax your jaw, taking him in until he hits the back of your throat and you gag. Hoseok’s thighs tense and a stuttered breath leaves him.
“Easy there.” He soothingly runs his fingers through your hair, though it does nothing for the involuntary tears springing at your waterline. You decide to play it safe, not taking more than you can handle. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind, letting you set your own pace, whispering swears and your praises.
Heat pools in your gut as your head bobs back and forth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, swirling around the head every time you pull back.
Slick with spit, your hand strokes the rest of him, and his groans vibrate in your ears. His fingers tighten in your hair, and it’s the only time he directs; holding you still.
“Take a deep breath for me, dove.” You do as told, and as you inhale, Hoseok slowly pushes forward, his cock reaching the back of your throat in no time at all. He groans above you, cock throbbing against your tongue, “There you go.”
He holds you there for a moment, only easing you back when your throat tightens with the need for air. He lets you breathe for a bit before he’s going again, thrusting slowly, once, twice and then holding you still. He keeps you there, cock throbbing at the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the neatly trimmed hair at the base.
When you gag he pulls you back, barely letting you breathe before he’s leaning down to kiss you, catching the string of drool that hangs from your bottom lip with his tongue. He lets you catch your breath, stepping back to pull his tee-shirt over his head and your mouth goes dry at the full expanse of his lithe frame.
Sitting back on your heels, breath a little ragged, you admire the sculpted lines of his body. Every movement is fluid and graceful, his muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin.
His chest is defined, the faintest sheen of sweat highlighting each ripple of muscle. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders, the way they flex as he moves. There’s a raw, primal energy about him, but it’s tempered by a quiet confidence.
Hoseok comes back to you quickly, cupping your cheek and kissing you fervently, moving with you as you shift back, cock smearing pre-cum along your inner thighs as he slots his narrow hips between them. He nibbles at your bottom lip, fingers sliding through your slick folds before the head of his cock nudges against your entrance.
For a quiet moment he stares then, kisses you tenderly as he breeches. It’s an easy glide, but it stings none the less, and you give an appreciative squeeze to his wrist when he goes slow. The stretch is bearable and soon the slight discomfort dissipates when he bottoms out and gives you a moment.
“Good?” he breathes out, hips pressed flush against yours. The same breath sucked back through his teeth when your walls tightens around him, his cock throbs in response and you keen. He grinds his hips down, pelvis pressing against your swollen clit and the sensation is almost too much and not nearly enough.
He’s close enough that you can run your tongue along his collarbone and feel him shiver. Leave your own marks there with your teeth and revel in the growl that rumbles in his chest.
He hooks an arm at the back of your knee, pressing it against your chest as he raises and balances his weight. You’re spread open for him, his cock sinks deeper, rubbing against a spot that makes your eyes roll back. He gives shallow thrusts at first, pressing kisses and bruises wherever he could reach.
“Fuck.” Hoseok hisses between his teeth, hips still, palm against your cheek, and he watches you with something other than lust in his eyes. Something gentle as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, such a good girl. Taking everything I give you.”
His hips snap forward and you cry out, hands gripping the sheets between them at his sinful groan. He keeps a relentless pace, and you could feel him everywhere. His fingers on your skin, leaving you cold and hot at the same time, gripping your hips so tightly you fear they’ll bruise. It would simply add to the ones he’s already placed, scattered on your neck and chest like mismatched constellations in a dark sky.
He brings your hands up above your head, holding them there, together with his free one.
“You’re so good to me, Dove. And all mine, hm? Say it.” He grunts, “Say you belong to me, promise me that you’ll stay here with me.” He says this softly, tenderly, grinding his hips against yours in slow movements, tightening the coil in your stomach.
“I’m yours, I’m yours. I promise.” You babble, hips moving against his on their own accord. “I’ll stay. I promise. Please.”
Hoseok groans at your words, leaning down to capture your lips with his, tongue finding yours with ease. “That’s right. You’re mine. Fuck. All mine. Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Hoseok.”
He curses under his breath, straightening his form and brings his hands down to grip your hips tight, and sets a brutal pace. Head tilting back to reveal the marks you left on him, groaning before he looks back down at you, “Close? Hm? You’re squeezing so tight.” His words taunt, as did the smirk on his pretty pink lips, “Make a mess for me, Dove. Cum all over my cock. That’s it, good girl.”
White lights dance behind your tightly shut eyelids, a ringing in your ears. And Hoseok was fucking you through it, fast and hard, his praises a rumble in his chest. You lay there boneless, taking what he gave with a haze over your mind, a weak moan leaving your parted lips when his hand met your throat. Your heart spikes for another reason entirely, but he doesn’t squeeze. Fingers just there, barely any pressure, as he chased his own end, cock kissing your cervix with each trust, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach.
His thumb finds your clit and you jolt, catching his sinister smirk that curled his lips. “There’s no going back after this, baby. Fuck – you’re mine, understand?” You can feel him throbbing, feel the way his hips stutter on the draw back, he was close and you wanted nothing more than him marking you, claiming you in this way. When your eyes meet his, a shiver goes through you.
He comes undone with a low groan, hips flushed with your own, still thrusting through it, and you can see them with your own eyes, as he shudders and stills. His wings uncurl, dark feathers, darker than anything you’ve ever seen, dipped in silver, spreads out behind him and flutters. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, gentle, barely there and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
Your eyelids were heavy, and sleepily, you reach out to brush your fingers through the feathers that encased your forms. Hoseok stiffens before your fingers reach them, and chuckles, nipping softly at the flesh of your neck, “Go ahead, Dove.”
He relaxes, when your fingers touch, and you feel him shudder, groaning softly against your neck. They’re soft, your fingers disappearing in the inky blackness of them. With a final brush of his lips against your neck, Hoseok pulls back, his wings shimmering away like a mirage and your hand passes through air before lands limply at your side.
He squeezes your hip gently, mindful, and then he’s gone, walking out his room and into the hallway. The light that spills in helps you see a lot better than the dim lamp, and you notice that Hoseok’s bedroom looks much like the rest of his apartment; sleek and dark. There isn’t much to it either, the basics, more utilirian than a comfort space. You wonder if he uses it at all.
Hoseok comes back and gathers your boneless self into his arms. You rest your cheek against his collarbone, the sound of running water reaching your ears when he steps out into the hallway.
The tub is filling, steam rising from the bubbles that form at the top of the disturbed water. It smells like mint and some sort of fruit, and the temperature is just right when he steps into it and lowers you down. He positions you so that your back is against his chest and turns off the water when it’s high enough. You sense that he’s in his head again, not quite here even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
“Feeling okay?” he asks suddenly, tracing a mindless pattern along your arm.
You hum softly, “Yeah. Sore, though.”
“I expected that.” Another kiss, apologetic, against your shoulder. “Also...” Hoseok pauses, “I finished inside you. I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”
The realisation dawns on you too and you shift a little to look at him, “I don’t mind, but....is that a bad thing?”
There’s a strange half smile on his lips and he lifts a hand to tug softly on one tangled end of your hair, gently sifting his fingers through until he’s satisfied. “It can be, if it takes. But, I’ll get something for it tomorrow.”
You notice that the marks you left along his skin have begun to fade already, and you poke at them with a finger. He heals quickly, you figured. He chuckles softly, taking your hand to press kisses along your finger tips and then to your palm. Your finger brushes over the mole on his upper lip gently and watch him melt.
He studies you for a moment, the same way he did before he left earlier, though, it’s softer now. “Would you like to come with me?”
You brighten, perking up with a nod, “Is that okay?”
Hoseok hums, mischief in his eyes, “If you promise not to run off as soon as you step foot outside.”
You roll your eyes and turn around, and Hoseok pulls you back to him with an arm around your middle. “I have nowhere to go.”
“I know, I was only teasing.” He chuckles.
You’re both quiet for a while, and you simply relax, almost falling asleep against him as the warm water soothes your aching muscles. You aren’t aware that you did, and only wake when Hoseok was just done tucking fresh clean sheets up to your chin. You’re back in his room but you don’t mind, the thought of going back to your own unsettles you right now. You haven’t forgotten your nightmare, and it’s something you’d definitely have to unpack another day.
You wait until he’s crawled in behind you, the warmth of him encasing you gently. His form melds against your back like he belongs there, an arm slipping under your head and the other over your hip. “Hoseok?”
“Yes Dove?”
You worry at your bottom lip, fingers finding his under the covers and they squeeze your own encouragingly. “There’s a friend of mine...I was with her before I met you.”
“I can help her.” He murmurs, and he sounds...sleepy. Today was a lot for him as well, you suppose. “I can get her a job here.”
You shift, turning to face him, he tucks you to him when you settle, chin resting on top of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”
You hear the smirk when he answers, “Do you think everything I have magically appeared? I own the hotel.”
“Wha—”
“Shh.” Hoseok squeezes your hip, “Go to sleep.”
Sometime later you’ll realise that Hoseok needed you more than he would admit. When you learn his tells he would help put himself back together with you instead of trying to do it alone.
Sometime later he’d take you to see her. When the wind is cold and the old oak tree reaches it’s bare, spindly arms to the frosted sky. When the day marks yet another year and he lets you put the flowers between the roots. He looks like a shadow against the glittering white, and he tells you he’s okay.
He’d take you to meet his friends at a club on the high-end and you’d would realise that he’s soft only with you and the guy who reminds you of a cat. With the others he’s closed off and friendly in a way that seems a little odd.
You’d see Abigail often and would skirt around how you actually met Hoseok when she’d ask. Anyone would think you’re crazy if you told them.
You spend most of your time at home while Hoseok goes off doing god knows what when he’s not there. It’s something to do with his friends and you never ask.
Then he’s there and everything beyond him and you and the space you both occupy doesn’t matter. And it’s kind of easy to forget where it all started – it’d been so long since you’d wondered where you were going to get anything to help you get by.
He’s made of cracks and splintered glass but he let you sink into the spaces, filled the pieces with you and settled. There would always be cracks in the glass that he’s made of, and there would always be a post in his fence that he needs to hammered in to fix. Despite the unconventional way you’d both started, the abnormality of his existence, you’d be there.
summary - You used to say that a little romanticising never hurt anyone, turns out you were wrong. So wrong. (Unless...?)
pairing - Hoseok x reader
genre - university!au, fluff, a little angst, crushing & pining <3
word count - 7.4k
warnings - swearing :o, y/n goes through serious introspection, y/n goes through it
You always loved romance and love. You loved when your friend finally revealed his feelings to his crush after endless (and progressively annoying) pining for each other. You love when you see your regulars have their weekly Sunday date night at the restaurant you work at (you also love their tips). You love when couples share an umbrella when walking in the rain. Heck, you even love the socks with the tiny magnetic arms that when you stand next to someone with the same socks they hold hands! Like! Who cares if they are just inanimate socks? (They are holding hands!) You just love love!
Okay, so your friends/housemates might make fun of you for it. They might roll their eyes when you fawn over some minor interaction between two strangers in the street or when you dote on something slightly romantic that your professor said about his wife. Some of your friends may say you are overoptimistic. Or as Yoongi would call it: unrealistic.
But, you would argue that a little romanticising never hurt anyone! Can it be annoying sometimes? Yes! Do your friends have to mentally prepare themselves before confiding in you about anything to do with their romantic life? 100%! Can your romanticisation border on delusional? I mean, maybe sometimes? Or as Yoongi would say: all the time.
It's a little running joke in your friendship group that little Y/n is a little hopeless romantic who would even romanticise two street rats eating rotting food in a dumpster together (but also that is kind of cute, like they live in awful conditions but they still stay together?!).
So maybe that's why you keep your crush on a certain man in your class a secret. Or as you would say (then giggle and hide your face into your pillow), your secret.
You would admit that the sole reason that gets you out of bed for your Monday 9am lecture is the fact you can spend an hour glancing at the most perfect side profile to ever bless planet earth (oh, and sometimes the cute stories your professor reveals about his wife).
After 5 months of this class, you have perfected the routine to get the most out of this one hour experience. First, you (struggle to) get up at 7am. Then, do all your business and get clean. Then, you agonisingly choose your best outfit that is both (a) comfortable for an annoyingly early lecture and (b) also cute so that when he looks over to you, he thinks woah this hot babe knocks it out the park every time with their insanely cool yet effortless look like woah I need to propose or whatever. Then, you (maybe too excitedly) stroll to your lecture and get there with (and this is very important) exactly 4 minutes before the lecture begins. This is because exactly 5 minutes before the lecture begins, a certain someone (cue you giggling and hiding your face) finds a seat in the lecture hall. And that means you can choose the optimal seating position to be able to have sneaky glances at the most beautiful face you have ever laid your eyes upon (in a not creepy way). The said optimal seating position is around 1 or 2 rows behind and a good ten seats on either side of him. Both effective and not suspicious at all.
If they knew, your friends would call you crazy. Or as Yoongi would say: this would actually be great evidentiary support for a restraining order. But you swear if they have ever seen this man, they would be doing the exact same thing. You would also argue that you are not the only one who does this! Two weeks ago you noticed that a girl, who sat 5 rows in front of you (so 3 rows in front of him), spent most of the lecture staring at the man and it was very obvious. Clearly, someone needs to get an optimal seating position! And just a month ago, after the man answered one of the professor's questions, a group of people let out a very audible tee-hee at how unbelievably attractive his face was.
And, my God, what a face.
It's otherworldly and beautiful. And that side profile? His perfect nose? His heart-shaped lips? His amazing jawline? His somehow always sparkly eyes? And his kissable cheekbones that protrude a bit more when he bursts out into the most bright and breath-taking smile? Stunning.
It's even more stunning when it's directed at you. Tee-hee.
Plot twist! You aren't one to brag (you are going to fully brag). But there have been a few instances where your glances are requited.
Now it's time to replay them in excruciating detail!
The first time it happened, you were mid-sentence in typing some notes on the lecture slides when you habitually glanced over to Mr. Beautiful man. But when you look up, you find yourself already caught in the depths of his gaze. You nearly choked on the air at the realisation that this man was looking at you with his sparkling eyes that seemed to hold a playful glint within them and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. For a heartbeat, time seemed to still as you held his gaze, and in that fleeting moment, you swear you felt a connection, a spark that made you bashfully look back to the lecture slides.
Another time this happened was when your professor was talking about the story of how he wooed his wife (every time he saw her, he pretended to trip over something so she would always remember him). You couldn't help but to accidentally let out a laugh louder than the rest of the class. But before you could cringe at yourself for the way your chuckle echoed around the room, you found yourself locking eyes with him, whose smile widened as your eyes met. You felt a warmth spread through you, as if his smile was meant for only you, and you couldn't help but smile back as he turned his head back around to the professor.
Not only that, but (not bragging at all) you have spoken to him a good two times.
Plot twist again!
He actually definitely knows who you are!
It's time to recount these events in even more excruciating detail!
1.
The first time he spoke to you was in the second week of the semester and it was also the first time you ever noticed him. As everyone stood up to pack their bags, you noticed that the person in front of you had left his water bottle behind on his desk. Noting the back of the man already half-way down the stairs, you grab the metal bottle and try to dash out of the lecture hall, scanning the corridor for any sign of him. Finally spotting him nearly walking out of the building, you hurried to catch up to him. As he opened the door, you shouted an 'excuse me' to the man.
As if it was in slow motion, he turned around and you don't know if you were hallucinating, but you swear you were nearly swept off your feet (it may have been the strong wind that the opening door let in). That was the first time you were graced with the most beautiful face you have ever seen, as he looked at you surprised and confused with his soft-looking hair flowing with the breeze.
You stutter at the sight of him, briefly forgetting why you even chased after him in the first place.
"O-oh, you forgot your bottle." You bashfully state, lifting the bottle towards him.
You look up at him (sigh he's tall) and you actually feel your heart stop when his lips curve into the most heart warming smile.
"Wow, thanks a lot", he gratefully says, taking back his bottle, "I'm Hoseok, by the way."
Hoseok.
You mirror his smile and try to not turn red as you reply "Y/n."
"Nice to meet you! Thanks again." He coolly says before continuing on his way.
He leaves you windswept and heart-stricken in the middle of the doorway.
(You quickly break out of it when annoyed students try to squeeze and push past you taking up the whole exit).
2.
The second time you converse with the man was 3 months after. And after a few exchanged glances, you're confident in saying that your attraction to this man has exponentially grown to unfathomable amounts.
You can safely say that you think you have a serious crush on this man.
This man being Hoseok. Because that's his name and he told you himself (tee-hee).
When you arrive at the lecture hall, you are greeted with an unfamiliar sight: people waiting outside of the room. When you walk up, you see the familiar faces you regularly see standing around and you deduce that the room must be locked (sometimes security forgets to unlock the lecture halls in the morning). As you lean against the wall and look down at your phone, you are surprised by the sudden voice next to you.
"This feels so weird standing around."
You look up and unconsciously let a smitten smile smother your face at Hoseok (tee-hee <3) next to you. You let yourself gaze at his breath-taking face for a moment. You feel your heart start racing again, as you stumble over what words to say.
"Yeah definitely, I'm so used to just sitting down before the professor gets here."
He glances at you, surprised you replied. In that moment you realise: he was talking to himself. That's awkward.
"No, yeah, I like to prep myself before a 9am lecture. I'm just wondering, who schedules 9am lectures on a Monday?" He light-heartedly comments, offering you one of his sweet smiles.
"You and me both, Hoseok. I'm wondering the same thing", you shyly respond, your smitten smile slightly burning your cheeks. Omg this is the longest conversation you have had with him!
You watch as his brows furrowed in confusion and his perfectly shaped head tilt to the side a bit. He lets out a bashful smile.
"Sorry, have we met before?" He lets out an embarrassed laugh and continues when you mirror his confusion, "You know my name?"
Oh...
You feel your heart sink a bit (a lot) and your lips move into a self-conscious smile. He doesn't remember you.
"Oh... Yeah we met briefly before." You look down, trying to cover your disappointment, "It was like at the beginning of the year so..."
You're surprised you can hear the sounds of people shuffling to move into the now unlocked lecture hall over the volume of how embarrassing this situation was. You both slowly trail behind the rest of the class into the room.
"Right, sorry, sometimes my memory is not the best!" Hoseok quickly reassures you, his tone devoid of any awkwardness, "What was your name again?"
It should be embarrassing at how quickly your mood elevated under his interest in knowing your name.
"I'm Y/n", you beam.
"Y/n", Hoseok says, more to himself, "I promise I won't forget next time".
He gives you another smile and a playful poke to your cheek, which makes you feel like the only one in the room, as he strides up to claim an empty seat. You feel yourself float up to your OSP (optimal seating position), unable to stop smiling from the brief exchange.
"I promise I won't forget next time"
Tee-hee, you have promises. And he touched your cheek! Tee-hee.
You spent the whole lecture divulging in the potential possibility that your crush might not be one-sided.
Tee-hee.
So here you are, five months deep in being the strongest trooper in your secret infatuation with this stunning man. You can’t help but give yourself a mental pat on the back for successfully keeping your mouth shut about it.
The pat on the back becomes even more vigorous when you manage to maintain your composure every time you spot him around campus, which has strangely been frequently lately. Surprisingly, this increase in sightings had nothing to do with you and everything to do with Yoongi.
You’ve been on high alert around Yoongi ever since he casually mentioned that he had a crush on someone in his classes. However, knowing you and your nature, he refused to divulge any details, nevermind the identity of the crush. It stung a little (okay, maybe more than a little) when he brushed you off, but you totally get it. After all, out of everyone, Yoongi was never the one to entertain your romanticising shit and especially not your meddling ways. Yet, there were instances where you could work out the object of Yoongi’s affections:
When Yoongi, out of nowhere, wanted to start sitting outside for lunch, near a particular group of friends (even though he hates sitting too long in the sun).
When Yoongi insisted you accompany him to watch the musical theatre society's dance practice (even though he was the conductor and didn’t really need to be there).
When Yoongi dragged you along to the dance society's performances, under the guise of "oh, I like the music" (not that you're complaining because Hoseok is also a part of that society tee-hee).
The common factor?: Jimin.
You couldn't blame Yoongi: Jimin was undeniably a sight to behold. And he is so lovely! One time your bag got stuck in the library’s revolving doors and you spent a good 5 minutes panickedly running in circles before Jimin stopped the whole crowd to come rescue you <3 (you never really talk about it because the situation actually made you want to curl up and never see the sun again). And every time Yoongi tries (emphasis on tries) to casually talk about Jimin, a cute little blush paints your friend's face, which makes you <3. And every time you see Jimin's smile it makes you, and the rest of the population just <3. And every time Yoongi sees Jimin from afar, you swear you can see the hearts jump out of his eyes <3.
The man wasn’t exactly subtle.
You also should thank Yoongi (and the gods) as Jimin is friends with Hoseok, meaning every lunch you could discreetly sneak glances at him, his perfect smile, his contagious laugh, the way his whole body would light up as he animatedly recounted a funny story to his friends and-
Anyways, since you were constantly looking that way, you, being the ever-vigilant detective, also noticed that someone else was also sneaking peeks at someone. That someone sneaking peeks being Jimin and the someone receiving said glances being Yoongi. Hee-hee. Jimin totally has a crush on Yoongi. And Yoongi totally has a crush on Jimin. They both totally have a crush on each other!
Even though you tried your best to not meddle, you just couldn’t resist. Much to Yoongi’s annoyance, you proceeded to bombard your friend with retellings of every single occurrence that Jimin so much breathed in his way in, of course, excruciating detail. You insisted for your friend to ask him on a date or confess or do anything, but only if he wanted to, of course.
You only seized your pestering when Yoongi finally grumbles a quiet “fine”. You also decided to seize any teasing of the growing excited smile on his face.
And so, it was on the fateful Thursday before Valentine’s Day week (which was just the heart-shaped cherry on top) Yoongi shyly asked Jimin on a date… And he said yes.
:)
Apparently the date went really, really well :) So well that since they had known each other for a while, Jimin thought it only fitting to ask Yoongi if they could be boyfriends :) To which your friend broke out in his signature gummy smile and said yes :) Yoongi got a Valentine’s :) Yoongi, Mr. Stop-being-annoying-with-love-Y/n, was about to be annoying with love :)
-
The weekend anticipation for Monday was nearly unbearable. Not only did it promise the chance to catch up with Yoongi and extract every detail about the date - how did Jimin pop the question, Yoongi’s response to the question, Jimin’s response to Yoongi’s response to the question, etc. - but there was also the added excitement of Yoongi suggesting that the two friend groups sit together. One friend group including you and one friendship group including Hoseok. Tee-hee.
But when the clock struck 7am, you woke up with an odd feeling.
Something had felt off the previous day too, almost as if the world shifted its axis. Firstly, when your regular couple arrived at the restaurant, only half of them sat down at their usual table. The man sat alone, tears streaming down his face as he ordered his usual sirloin steak, nearly choking up as he had to stop himself from ordering his partner’s usual vegan burger. Or should you say, ex-partner… Turns out they weren’t the happy couple you saw them to be, they were actually going through a divorce. Instead of going home at closing time, you found yourself awkwardly comforting the man (i.e., stiffly patting his shoulder) as he worryingly wailed loudly into the table while you tried to find a way to ethically and morally make him pay the bill (though, he did leave his most generous tip ever, but you guess it's likely because the bill was half its usual price). Your heart couldn’t help to ache as you saw him braving the rain without an umbrella, all by himself.
You would be lying if you said that the couple’s breakup didn’t affect you in any way, you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling it gave you. You swore, every time you served them, they were a couple madly in-love, did you really misread the whole situation?
As you walked through campus on your way to the lecture, you tried to not think about the couple and you tried to distract yourself from the strange feeling, reminding yourself of the excitement of today. Today was the day you could finally talk to Hoseok (cue you giggling and hiding your face). You could finally get to know him beyond what you see in the lectures, beyond the brief mentions about him in passing conversations with Yoongi, beyond his dance performances, beyond your fleeting exchanged glances. You finally will know Hoseok as a friend, or maybe something more (tee-hee).
Just before you start to daydream (or as Yoongi would say: delude) about the potential conversations with Hoseok. You feel yourself still at the shattering sound beneath your feet. When you look down, you feel that odd feeling creep throughout your body; you accidentally crushed a pair of glasses on the ground. You don’t know why you remain staring at the broken lens (you also realise they are one of those expensive Ray Bans - yikes sorry to the owner). After you stood there for what felt like an eternity, it hit you why they look odd: they were rose-tinted glasses.
You just broke a pair of rose-tinted glasses.
Huh.
The distraction caused you to arrive 2 minutes late for the lecture, having to sit on one of the only available seats right at the front of the lecture hall (no OSP today guys). Much to your sadness, this meant you were not able to sneak any glances at the man and his beautiful side profile. :(
Maybe it was the fact you didn’t have Hoseok to distract you or maybe it was the strange feeling that made you really listen to your professor without your usual optimistic bias. But you finally realise how lowkey (highkey) misogynistic your professor was about his wife.
“Now, as an example of positive reinforcement, I can’t help but talk about a perfect one from my own experiences. I’ve talked about my endless efforts to win my lovely wife over, the gestures, the flowers, the compliments. But now that I’ve won her heart, she associates me with all that lovey-dovey stuff so I don't need to do any of that anymore! Like, why bother doing anything extra when she’s already fulfilling her role and doing all my laundry? This type of conditioning gets you an endless supply of clean underwear! Or is that too problematic to say these days? Am I going to get cancelled?” Your professor laughs.
You feel your mouth gape in pure shock (and cringe), as your ears pick up the awkward and fake laughs throughout the lecture hall.
Huh. That wasn’t very romantic.
The professor continues on and leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth. That strange feeling intensifies throughout you for the rest of the hour and carries on until lunch.
-
As you joined the group of people, you took a seat and offered smiles in response to everyone’s greetings. You noticed Hoseok had not arrived yet, and you tried not to react when you heard Namjoon, one of Jimin’s friends, complaining about his professor holding Hoseok back. From the 15 minutes you spend sitting with them, you deduce that Jimin’s friends are really nice: Namjoon was particularly endearing and Taehyung was charmingly entertaining. If it weren’t for the strange feeling nagging at you, you’d be more talkative, but instead, you could only muster occasional contributions to the conversation.
Feeling a nudge from your friend Molly next to you, you turned to her as she quietly asked if you were okay, worried because of your unusual silence. You quickly offer an excuse about stress from your group presentation and she nods, not entirely convinced. You also feel a brief comforting squeeze from your other friend, Lia, beside you. However, they both know you well enough to know that they shouldn’t press anything further. You meekly look around the table and you notice Yoongi already looking at you, a hint of concern forming on his face. You tried to reassure him with a big smile to indicate you are perfectly fine, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. Curse your friends and their perceptiveness. But before he could press further, Jimin, being the angel that he is, distracts him with something funny on his phone, and you find yourself zoning out of the conversation.
“Well, I thought the movie was very good!” Taehyung argues.
“Of course you would think that movie was good, Tae,” Namjoon scoffs, “It was right up your hipster alley, a failed attempt at a romance movie disguised by some weird, unconventional filming techniques.”
Your attention snapped back when Taehyung gasped loudly.
“Failed attempt?” Taehyung repeats with disbelief, “I’ll have you know, that movie was the epitome of romance!”
“Tae, the most romantic thing about that movie was that it was caring enough to only put us through 1 hour of it,” Namjoon deadpans.
Chuckling spread around the table, leaving you a bit confused. You don’t even know what movie they’re talking about.
“Don’t talk about romance in front of Y/n guys” Lia teases, “We won’t hear the end of it, especially so close to Valentine’s day.”
Suddenly, all the attention is on you, your friends fondly looking at you, ready for your usual response. Normally, you’d play along and potentially bond with Taehyung over whatever movie this is. But instead, you stutter, unsure on how to respond.
“Well-” You start, before being interrupted.
“Oh my god, hey guys”, you hear from behind you, the voice slightly out of breath.
As everyone greets him back, you feel Lia, who was sitting next to you, shuffling to her left, making space for Hoseok to sit down. Next to you.
Instantly, the strange mood seems to dissipate into thin air. Omg he’s sitting next to you! Being a bit shy, you stay frozen, not turning around to look at the man. You feel yourself start to smile at the feeling of him next to you, and you nearly unconsciously moan at how good this man smells. Have some dignity Y/n, you think to yourself.
“Sorry I’m late, my meeting was supposed to be only 30 minutes but the professor went over an hour,” he laughs out, then looks towards his friend and his boyfriend, “I hope the in-law’s meeting is going well.”
Everyone around the table, including you, laughs, assuring him that it’s going well. You can’t help but let out a dreamy sigh - he’s so hot. Hoseok proceeds to go around to learn the names of the new faces, saying a nice to meet you to Lia, jokingly reintroducing himself to Yoongi (apparently they’re actually friends), and then mentioning to Molly that he is pretty sure they are in the same assignment group for one of his classes. Your face breaks out in a smile with how well he gets on with everyone. He is just so bright and sociable, you can’t help but feel your heart warm at the thought.
Finally, you muster the courage to turn towards him, intending to break the ice with the weird comment your professor said in the morning lecture but Hoseok starts before you.
He starts with the same gut-wrenchingly gorgeous smile,
“And what’s your name?”
Oh…
You feel yourself speechless at the question, colour draining in your face. If this was any other day and if this was anyone else, you would tease saying you’ve met before, joke about him already asking that question, maybe even fake hurt and dramatically ask if you were really that forgettable. But it did hurt, and you don’t feel like you have it in you to embarrass yourself, so instead you introduce yourself again.
For the third time.
“I’m Y/n”, you reply with a tense smile.
“Well it’s really nice to meet you!” He beams.
Throughout the entire lunch, silence envelops you like a suffocating blanket, muffling the chatter around you. All your senses are surrounded by Hoseok, yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you. You watch him interact effortlessly with others, his eyes light up with warmth and his smiles so familiar, you once believed they were reserved solely for you. But now, you realise those looks and smiles are merely part of his default demeanour, unfairly extended to everyone without second thought. The realisation cuts straight through you.
It’s not that he intentionally excludes you; he offers small nods and fleeting smiles of acknowledgements when your eyes meet. He just doesn’t fully register your presence or, better put, is interested in your presence more than he’s interested in anyone else. You don’t know what’s worse. Either way, the pang of insignificance hurts you deep as you sit there feeling like an idiot.
Meanwhile, your friends are engrossed in getting to know everyone else, and for the first time, you don’t bother deciphering the subtle exchanges between Molly and Taehyung, or analyse how well they bounce off each other, jokingly debating about something. Instead, you feel a bit irked by the sight of Jimin and Yoongi being so shyly cute with each other.
And it’s when Lia’s friendly tease prompts Hoseok to playfully poke her cheek, just like he did with you, you quietly stand up, wanting nothing more but to leave. The table suddenly grows quiet, your feigned excuse about seeing your professor being the only thing that is heard. After giving your friends a pointed look that says ‘please don’t follow me’, you pack your uneaten lunch and make a hasty exit, ignoring the worried gazes of your friends.
The truth hits you like a bus - he didn’t even know who you were. He treats everyone with the same warmth and friendliness, all those supposed shared moments weren’t special at all. You just convinced yourself they were, romanticising all those supposed connections to mean something. Did your brain really deluded you into thinking your foolish crush on him was actually requited?
Perhaps Yoongi was right about you. Unrealistic. Delusional. Now that you think about it, probably needs to be served with a restraining order. You didn’t just imagine that Hoseok was interested in you too but you also imagined that he actually knew who you were.
You feel like a fool.
As you fight back tears from spilling from your eyes, you trudge home, neglecting your next lecture. You’ll catch up on it later.
As you quietly slip away, a concerned silence settles over the group. Your friends exchange glances, each wondering if anyone knows what might be troubling you.
“Is she okay?” Namjoon breaks the silence, his brows furrowing with genuine concern as the group’s gaze follows your retreating figure.
“I actually don’t know…” Molly answers, her voice laced with worry, “She was so quiet. She said something earlier about a presentation but I know she doesn’t have anything like that coming up, so…”
“Shit, I should’ve said something earlier”, Yoongi mumbles with a loud sigh, reaching for his phone to send a message in your group chat.
Are you okay? Are you going back to the house? We’ll come meet you - yoongi
“We should go check on her.” Lia suggests, already rising from her seat, with Molly and Yoongi following suit.
Just then, the group’s phones all ping. Yoongi instantly reads the notification
I’m fine! I just have a headache :( - y/n
Don’t you dare move away from that table, Yoongi. You guys better have fun for me! I’ll see you guys at the house! - y/n
With a small scoff, Yoongi is about to ignore your pleas and continue to pack his things but then the phone pings again.
Please don’t come meet me - y/n
As Yoongi reads your last message, he sits down with a dejected sigh, everyone watching him curiously. The other two pull their phones out to read the messages, also sitting back down.
“I think she just wants to be alone.” Yoongi clarifies.
“Are you guys sure?” Jimin cautiously asks, “We don’t mind if you guys have to go.”
The other three men agree with Jimin, their concerns evident. Reluctantly, Yoongi shakes his head and assures the group that they don’t need to leave, mentioning that he’ll talk to you later at the house. Silence descends on the table once more.
“I hope everything’s alright,” Jimin voices, “maybe something happened during her classes?”
“No, she only had that intro to psych lecture this morning and she always mentions how that’s pretty chill,” Molly dismisses, looking down deep in thought.
“Oh, I’m in that class” Hoseok suddenly interjects, drawing everyone’s attention, “I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
“Yeah, I forgot you’re in that class” Yoongi remarks, “I’m surprised you haven’t run into her.”
Hoseok nods silently. Suddenly, realisation dawns on him. He knew you looked familiar - you’ve literally spoken before. He guesses he didn’t remember cause it was a long time ago, and he never sees you in the lecture hall. Perhaps you always sit in the back? Now guilt weighs on him, remembering your face earlier. Your eyes lit up in familiarity and a cute smile grew on your face, until he asked for your name. Then you looked embarrassed, your eyes slightly dimming. He didn’t recognise you. Hoseok falls silent, consumed by his thoughts.
“Well,” Jimin starts, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, “I hope she’s okay! You always talk about Y/n so I can’t wait to get to know her.”
Yoongi smiles warmly at Jimin, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, Yoongi talks about how endearing Y/n is,” Jimin continues, addressing his friends, “I actually met her once before! I think she got stuck in the library doors, and I helped her out. I was so surprised because most people would be really embarrassed but she was so grateful and optimistic. It really threw me off guard. No idea why she would be friends with you, Yoongi”
The conversation shifts and the table bursts out in laughter as Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully.
“No, really, sometimes she’s the complete opposite of you, Yoons,” Lia adds with excitement, “I literally remember when Molly was ordering our drinks and started to argue with one of the guys at the bar, so we were gonna go over and help her. But, Y/n stopped us, insisting that they were clearly just flirting. Then, Yoongi and Y/n started bickering about whether or not they were about to fight or kiss. Then all of a sudden we heard a scream and realised Molly threw her drink on him and they started to fight.”
“I’ll never forget Y/n’s face,” Yoongi heartedly laughs, reminiscing the incident, “I’ve never seen her more mortified.”
Everyone joins in the laughter. Hoseok looks around, noting how just the thought of you brightens your friend’s faces.
“Oh my God, that day got us banned from that place!,” Molly added, “I swear, she can romanticise anything.”
“Sounds like Taehyung with that atrocious ‘romance’ movie”, Namjoon jokes, earning a playful jab from the man.
“That’s it, someone bring Y/n back. I need someone to back me up on this”, Taehyung jokingly whines, eliciting more laughter, “I’ll force her to be my new movie buddy.”
“As long as it’s a romance movie, she won’t need much convincing”, Lia adds.
“With the movies Tae enjoys, we can only pray for her”, Namjoon sarcastically comments, dodging another hit from Taehyung.
“Well, Y/n finds joy and beauty in most things,” Yoongi starts, his eyes softening as he reflects on your unique perspective “I’m jealous of her, she can find love in anything and everything.”
The table falls into momentary silences, Yoongi’s words hanging in the air. Hoseok’s gaze flickers with intrigue as he processes the sentiment. His perception of you subtly shifts when Lia, with a mischievous grin, adds,
"Well, she loves love".
So you have actually decided you hate love.
Upon arriving home, you collapse onto your bed, letting your tears flow freely. You found yourself unable to stop crying. You don’t know if it's from the sheer humbling experience or the sorrow of mourning your imagined relationship with Hoseok. You just couldn't believe that he would do that to you? After everything you’ve imagined been through?
For the remainder of the week, you choose to avoid your university commitments, wallowing in self-pity within the safe confinement of your bedroom. Despite sharing a house with your three friends, you surprisingly succeed in avoiding conversation with them. Occasionally, when you attempt to sneak out to use the toilet, you find sweet treats left at your bedroom door - a silent reminder that they’re there whenever you’re ready to talk. But three whole days pass without a word. You even miss Valentine’s day.
On Thursday, a knock interrupts your solitude, and you fully intend to ignore it, not yet ready to face the outside world.
“Y/n, I’m coming in whether you like it or not, so you have 30 seconds to not be naked before I open this door.” Yoongi announces from outside, anticipating your refusal.
“Come in.” he hears you mumble from inside.
He enters to find you cocooned in your blanket on the bed. You both share a silent gaze and Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight of your eyes slowly filling up with tears. As your lips start to quiver, about to burst out in tears, Yoongi rushes over and envelops you in his arms.
Yoongi isn’t known for giving hugs, but as you sob into his shirt, you realise he should do it more often; he’s a really good hugger. And in the second that you feel your friend give you a comforting kiss on the crown of your head, you let go completely.
Yoongi remains silent the whole time you reveal your crush on Hoseok. The only sign you know he is still listening is when he tightens his grasp on you whenever your story elicits harder sobs. Yoongi knows its best to not say or question anything, especially when you start blubbering about some acronym he’s never heard of (something about an OPM), which means 2 rows behind and 10 seats to the left? He decides to not probe further, understanding that right now you just need someone to listen.
"I’m so stupid, I should've known this would have happened, I always get carried away, I always do this,” You sob tiredly, messily wiping your snotty nose, “I need to stop being like this, I think there’s something actually wrong with me Yoongi. I feel like a complete idiot”
Through your swollen eyes, you see him shake his head.
“No, Y/n, stop it. You’re not stupid, you’re not an idiot, there’s nothing wrong with you, and you definitely don’t need to stop being you.” Yoongi scolds, pulling you in for another hug.
“B-but you even said it yourself, I’m unrealistic with these things,” You choke before bursting out into full-on wails, “I made myself believe that he actually liked me back and he didn’t even know I existed.”
You both remain hugging for a while, and with the feeling of Yoongi soothingly rubbing your back, your sobs gradually calm down.
"You know," Yoongi begins quietly, "I love you and I love that you love love because your love for love pushed me to try to be with someone I'm in love with. Only you could've done that.”
The room falls quiet as you digest his words..
“And I also hate how many times I said love in that sentence"
"You said it at least 6 times" you sniffle, smiling up at your friend, “Thank you, Yoons.”
He mirrors your smile.
“Don’t even mention it.” He says, pulling you in for a side hug, “And to hell with that man. Surely if he doesn’t even appreciate my best friend, he’s not worth it. What’s even so great about him?! Huh?” He shouts out, as you let out a small sniffing giggle.
"He's got really great cheekbones", you start, and a beat of silence passes as Yoongi meekly agrees.
"Yeah, he does.”
In an attempt to cheer you up, Yoongi invites you to join him and Jimin for lunch on Sunday before your shift, promising a rather unconventional third-wheel experience. Despite your initial hesitations, as you watch the undeniable cuteness between them, your temporary barriers crumble, and you watch their interactions with joy and just the faintest tinie-wine hint of bittersweetness. Perhaps it’s because Jimin’s genuine concern for your well-being radiates comfort or maybe it’s his angelic aura, you find yourself confiding in him about your crush on Hoseok.
As you share your sorrows with the two men in front of you, you release a sigh of relief as he takes in the information with nothing but open-mindedness and kindness. His reassurance and comfort that Hoseok’s forgetfulness is not a reflection of you, but rather a quirk of his character - or, as Jimin admits, an annoyance - brings you comfort, leaving you feeling better as you make your way to work.
Throughout the rest of your shift, a sense of peace settles within you. Perhaps, deep down, there’s a part of you that just thrives on romance and love, a factor ingrained in your disposition. As you clean tables, you come to the realisation: who cares if romance seems a bit elusive to you right now? It undeniably exists in the world, evident all around you. In your friends, in love songs, and even in those silly magnet socks. And that brings you happiness - a fact made abundantly clear by the joy you feel knowing your friend is experiencing it.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s just not your time, and you muster the courage to admit, with a shaky exhale, that perhaps Hoseok simply wasn’t meant to be that person for you.
But you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, getting distracted by your divorced regular walking in with a new woman.
-
You stride to your Monday lecture actually feeling really great. I mean, you acquired a new friend (Jimin <3), you have a feeling Molly may have a little thing for Taehyung (which you’ll undoubtedly observe with unsolicited interest at lunch), and your Sunday regular (who strangely moved on from a whole marriage in just a week) still gives good tips. You feel ecstatic even.
On your way to your lecture, you pause briefly. Your eyebrows furrow at the sight of two rats sitting together on a bench, their tails somehow strangely interlocking. It was oddly and bizarrely romantic, prompting you to send a picture in the groupchat. For once, everyone actually agreed, even Yoongi.
So, who cares if you romanticise things? It got you this far, even through countless 9am lectures - a victory for someone with your habit of missing lectures. Perhaps you could still appreciate Hoseok's face, it's still a gorgeous face. And besides, when you really think about it, you don't actually know anything about him! He might actually be an awful person! You try to tell yourself that, but there’s still a small part of your heart that remains unconvinced.
You enter the lecture hall surprisingly 10 minutes early, say goodbye to OSP, hello to sitting wherever the fuck you want (which is kind of a relief considering Hoseok tended to sit really far behind and you really struggled to see the board sometimes).
Absorbed in Yoongi’s latest post of him and Jimin, you’re startled by a familiar voice beside you.
"Is this seat taken?"
Oh?
You look up to see the devastatingly handsome ray of sunshine himself, gesturing to the seat where your bag is on. You try not to inwardly scream at how good he looks. He’s wearing glasses you’ve never seen before and a really fluffy looking red jumper, which just makes him look so boyfriend and so, so gorgeous.
"No, it's not actually", you hesitantly move your bag and offer a polite smile.
You watch him sit down next to you and give you another earth-shaking smile, to which you offer a timid one back. You curse your heart for speeding up.
Don't get your hopes up, Y/n.
In order to distract yourself, you look down at your phone again and answer some messages from your family, unaware of Hoseok stealing glances at you.
He notices just how cute your nose is, how sparkly your eyes are when you gleefully read whatever is on your screen. He is a bit embarrassed to admit how much he would love to know how to make the corners of your lips move upwards like that. He also notes his sudden urge to grab your attention away from your screen and onto something else. Or maybe someone else.
He also feels the need to giggle and scream into a pillow. Huh.
Before he opens his mouth to make conversation and apologise for what happened last week, the professor begins his lectures, interrupting his chance.
As the lecture progresses, your professor makes another weird ‘joke’ about his wife, which makes you halt your note taking to stare at him in disbelief.
"I’m so surprised his wife hasn’t left him yet" Hoseok whispers to you.
You giggle at the remark, your head instinctively dipping down to avoid drawing attention. Hoseok's eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh, completely captivated by the sound. If you looked at him at this moment, you would notice that his face lit up much more than usual, a glint of endearment painting his smile. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, time stands still. You’re struck with how breathtakingly pretty he looks up close, it’s almost unfair. Your eyes are drawn to details you never noticed before - like the charming mole on his lips that makes you <3 (also ignites the desire to kiss it).
Although you know the lesson from the past week was that you can sometimes be delusional in your romanticising, but this time you are 100% sure you see it objectively: Hoseok briefly looks down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. It’s clear you didn’t imagine it, as you catch a sudden look of embarrassment wash over his face as if he got caught out. That’s because he did just get caught out.
You both look away from each other’s eyes, the intensity of the moment becoming a bit too overwhelming. But you both continue to sit together in silence, your shoulders brushing, with wide, bashful smiles plastered on your faces. The same thoughts (or lack thereof) swirling in both of your minds:
Tee-hee.
a/n: tee-motherfucking-hee :) Thank you for reading!
You stood on the balcony overlooking the neon city lights while Hoseok was standing behind you, silently smoking his third cigarette. Neither of you said a word but it was evident that a lot was lingering on his mind. You felt the cold summer breeze on your naked skin, shivering lightly.
Hoseok flipped the cigarette aside and hugged you from behind, sharing his body warmth with you.
„Why do you still keep seeing me, y/n?“, he muttered softly.
There it was. The question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for a very long time. He was right to ask as there was no plausible reason for you to keep doing that. Doing him.
„I guess I kind of like it“, you mumbled truthfully.
The grip around your waist got harder as he was leaning into you more.
„But you do remember our conversation from the first time?“
You sighed heavily, still remembering every word from that night. You had moved to Seoul for a fresh start, a fresh beginning in life, love and moreover in yourself. It didn’t take long for you to meet Hoseok as you had a mutual friend but you never had predicted the outcome of your serendipitous meeting. Shy glances turned into passionate gazes accompanied by coy kisses that turned into lustful sex. He wasn’t your typical type but you felt a pull towards him like never before.
Your first real date, or rather spontaneous hook up, ended in your apartment drinking and getting to really know each other. He never intended to spill all of his secrets but the booze loosened his tongue just as much as your safe energy ripped up his shields.
„I got cheated on three times, actually.“, he confessed out of the blue. „The last time was the hardest. We were together for almost a year and I planned on marrying her but you know, she had other plans.“
Hoseok’s eyes, usually shimmering with positive energy, suddenly turned dull.
„Do you want to know how I figured it out? She moaned another guy’s name in bed. That’s how I figured it out.“, he explained flatly.
You threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could. All you could feel was empathy and sorrow - how could someone do that?
„It’s okay, y/n. It is what it is.“
„It’s not okay. It really isn’t“, you protested.
„That’s just how my life is. It’s shit.“
His eyes got even gloomier, making you shudder with heartbreak.
„No really, just ask around. The others already know. My life is a piece of shit.“
Hoseok pained but fascinated you at the same time.
„I wondered why that happened, you know. I wondered if I was too outgoing, if I should have been stricter with her. As soon as I left town she cheated on me. So, that’s what I figured. Relationships just don’t work if someone is away for a while and since I’m traveling often, relationships are just not for me.“
There it was, the ugly monster that was roaring its head. Hoseok sounded just like you when you got your heart broken by the last guy who dumped you as soon as you got out of town. You were too taken aback by this coincidence to really understand what he was implying though.
Instead, you felt an even stronger pull towards him, one that would bring you to your knees often. Slow, sad kisses turned to more and before you knew it he was inside of you, fucking the sadness away. Loving him like that was risky, for your body and heart but you didn’t care. Hoseok triggered another side within you, one that was reckless and risky.
„Why do you like me?“, he asked while placing soft kisses on your temples.
„This is going to sound so cheesy but uhm….I like you because you feel like sunshine.“, you confessed.
A small giggle escaped his lips before the mood changed for the inevitable.
„You need to find someone else, y/n. Someone who’s decent.“
You held in your breath, not knowing how to respond.
„You remember what I told you? I’ll be leaving town soon for two weeks, so because of that nothing more, nothing serious could ever happen between us.“
Remembering it brought up the pain you felt back then, still after weeks of seeing him.
He told you to stay away, yet both of you couldn’t resist the other. Endless nights spent under the sheets turned into your little secret.
„I do remember.“
„Then why do you do it? Why are you wasting your time with me?“
You turned around and faced him, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.
„I can’t leave you alone because I see myself in you, Hoseok.“
He frowned in response, not really getting your point.
„How so?“
„We’re both very similar if you think about it. Both of us have been hurt in love which is why we tend to be attracted to people that are unavailable, we’re not even risking getting our heart broken. At least not that much, so it would really hurt. But there’s more than meets the eye.“, you explained softly.
„More?“, he asked curiously.
„Yeah.“, you nodded. „Remember what I said when you asked me why I liked you?“
„Cause I feel like sunshine..“, he muttered under his breath.
„Exactly. You have this radiating aura, full of good vibes and positivity. But that’s all just an act. If you look closely enough, you’ll notice that you’re broken and sad. Hurt and disappointed. All that sunshine persona is just a facade. Just something to cover up how you really feel on the inside.“
Hoseok’s eyes started to glisten instantly, he let go of you and turned around.
He felt caught, suffocated even. All these years he was cautious enough to not let someone see beyond the surface, yet you caught on instantly.
„I am right, aren’t I?“, you asked cautiously.
He looked over his shoulder, staring directly at you while tears were streaming down his cheeks.
