#SUNSHINE HOBI ☀️ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonclouds · 5 months

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The Price Of A Wish | 5

The third time you meet Jung Hoseok, you realise the last ten years has done nothing to the way you were drawn to him, with a force as sure and inescapable as gravity.

CHAPTER INDEX

Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Idol!Hoseok, Chaebol!Reader, OT7 bangtan show up too,Slow Burn, Unrequited feelings, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Fluff, (we might include some other things later let’s see)

The teacup clinks shrilly against its saucer as it is set down on your desk with a trembling hand. You press a finger to your temple. It's throbbing slowly, and the throbbing will not go away.

“Jungkook. Please stop staring at our guest.”

The comment startles him and the second cup of coffee (that you most certainly had not asked for but he had taken upon himself to personally make and serve) makes the rest of it’s journey to the table with a loud clang. Your assistant clutches the the tray to his chest with a small gasp and folds into a little bow, embarrassed. Though, he still sneaks a glance sideways and turns pink while gasping noticeably when he makes brief eye contact with Hoseok.

“S- sorry, noona.”

“Jungkook." You say, without looking up from your notes.

Hoseok notes that you say this like you’ve said it a million times before.

Hoseok smiles, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Comeon, ____. Give the poor boy a break."

"It's unprofessional, Mr. Jung."

"Oh, so we're on a last name basis now?"

"Unprofessional. I run a business, not a daycare. It's Ms. ____ in the office."

“Sorry! Ms. _____.” The wide eyed boy worries his bottom lip between large front teeth.

It was going to be a long day. With a small sigh, you wave him away, turning back to the documents on your desk.

“Thank you for the coffee Jungkook. We’re good here, you can go now.”

When you don’t hear the door open and close, you look up again to find Hoseok smiling at Jungkook, who looks to be on the brink of a swoon that would put any victorian era lady to shame.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes! Yes!” He snaps out of it, nearly dropping the tray but now standing at attention. “What can I do!”

“We can get a picture together later.” Hoseok stage whispers to Jungkook, and it makes the younger boy’s eyes go even wider. He nods his head vigorously with a wide smile and a scrunched nose. Hoseok suddenly has an image of a little overly eager bunny in his head.

"Thank you, Jungkook." You repeat again, this time with emphasis.

Jungkook's smile fades in a moment of realisation and mouths a silent "ohhhhhh". He nods in determination and mutters something unintelligible under his breath as scuttles to the door. You note that his hair has now grown out to his jaw (when did that happen?), and it’s fluffy at the ends. From behind, he looks like a little bouncing triangle kimbap. It’s just a little bit endearing, you'll admit.

When the door shuts behind him, Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee. Silence sits heavily in the air.

“You don’t use your last name in the company?”

“No, I don’t.” You don't look up from your papers.

“And you let him call you noona?"

A begrudging noise rumbles quietly in the back of your throat. “I’ve known him since he was in diapers.”

“Well, we’re feeling chatty today.” Hoseok mutters from behind his cup.

You ignore his comment, thumbing your way through a stack of manila folders on your desk and slide one across to Hoseok, who sets the cup down and opens it.

“A contract so early on?” He looks a little smug when he flips the folder open to the first page. It's such a good look on him. It's so annoying. You want to slap it right off his handsome face. “Look who's eager."

You resist rolling your eyes because well, it was unprofessional and in this moment you wanted to be the poster girl for Professionally Detached and Unbothered.

Was it just you or had his ego inflated twice its size daily in the past ten years? You can tell he's trying to push your buttons to get a reaction out of you, and he knows exactly where to press. You were just beginning to face the truth that maybe your heart hadn't made all the same changes your appearance had gone through over the years, especially when it came to Hoseok. All it took was a smirk and a sentence to ruffle your feathers; so easily he rendered useless your emotional detachment and the protective walls you'd built around yourself. And in the end... well. You were just you.

"It's protocol for anyone we agree to headline our masterclass series. The contract protects us from any associated damages like unfavourable press, and your intellectual property. If I had this my way, Mr. Jung, you wouldn't be sitting there at all. You're only here because the board voted you in, not me." Technically, the last part wasn't all true because you could have said no if you had really wanted, but he didn't need to know that.

"Mr. Jung?" Hoseok repeats the cordial salutation, and it tastes bitter.

"Yes, that's you."

Hoseok purses his lips. "Feisty."

"No," you counter. Over the last few bits of conversation you realise you've been leaning forward, and you make a special effort to recline back into your chair. "Professional."

With a tiny huff, he opens the folder again, holding it up to his face so that you can only see the top of his head. You make no move to fill the lull in conversation as he gives the contents a cursory read over. At this point, the less you said, the better. After a minute, Hoseok glances at you over the top of the file.

He's met with a raised eyebrow.

“Is there a clause you have a problem with?”

“No.”

“Are the payment terms not favourable? That’s negotiable if you wish.“

“No.” He abruptly shuts the folder and puts it back on the desk pointedly.

"What's not to your liking then?"

Hoseok's lips sets in a line, like he's trying to figure out a difficult problem. You could always tell when he was struggling to figure things out - that little furrow in the middle of his eyebrows was such a tell, even when he tried to convince you otherwise. It was a tell then, and it's a tell now.

“Well. I’ll give you a few days to look it over then. You can have someone send me the amendments, but in the meantime - “ you give your watch a glance, and then look back at him “ - we can head over to the conservatory to view the practice rooms if you have time.”

He leans forward on your desk and laces his fingers together, eyes searching your face, looking for even a hit of emotion but your brows are relaxed, mouth straight, and eyes flat and still and dark as a lake on a windless night. There is nothing there and he hates it. Hates it even more when he realises he cannot read you anymore. He doesn’t know why, but it makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you. It gets an itch under his skin, like a pebble in his shoe, rubs him the wrong way -

“We’re really not going to talk about it, huh.” He settles on that, finally. Beating around the bush was pointless right now.

“Talk about what?”

“You. Me. Whatever is going on here?” He gestures between the two of you.

“The signing of the contract?”

“No.”

“Then I have really no idea what you’re referring to, Hoseok -“

“_____. Stop it.”

You set the papers you were holding and stare him down just as strongly so as not to belie the way the tone he's taken with your name still makes you freeze. If the way he’s eyeing you testily is anything to go by, he’s not going to let this go so easily. Hoseok could be the most stubborn, obstinate piece of shit if he put his mind to it.

After a few tense moments, you decide to give in. "Is this about the other night at the opening gala?"

"Glad you're finally ready to stop dancing around this elephant." Hoseok snorts and throws a hand in the air.

“You said your apology, I heard it. We've been through this already, I don't know what more you want." You reply levelly.

“Come on, _____. That wasn’t even close to a conversation.”

“Conversation, implying two willing participants.”

Hoseok gestures at himself. “Willing.”

“Participants.” You correct him, stressing the plural. “In case I didn’t make myself clear, this is me being very unwilling.”

“______, If you’d just let me - ”

Something rises from deep in your belly and presses against your chest- a ball of indignance, anger, resentment, general feelings, because how dare he -

“Has it ever occurred to you that I really don’t want or care to hear whatever you have to say to me?” Your outburst is sharp and so unexpected it makes Hoseok flinch.

"I'll only say this once. Who is this apology really for? Me? Or is it for you? Because somehow, after leaving me in radio silence for ten years, let alone what you did, my working theory is that you suddenly need something from me, so you're trying to get back in my good books. Or even worse, for some godforsaken reason, you grow a tiny shred of conscience so you stomp back into my life and demand that I hear your apologies and explanations. You come in here, upend my life so you can go on with a clear conscience? You don’t get that right. Just because the world hangs off your every word, Jung Hoseok, doesn’t mean that I have to.”

Your voice shakes a little on that last sentence, but that is all you allow him.

For the first time in a long time, Hoseok’s lost for words. There's a slight ringing in his ears. In his eagerness to patch things up, make amends, apologise, what have you, he realises with a sharp and sudden clarity that you were right. He’d not spared a thought if you had actually wanted to hear it or not. That whatever he was doing might be painful for you. That he might have been selfish. He thinks he understands that a little now, as he lowers his eyes to your hands, fingers laced, mirroring his own. You’re only half a desk away, but to him, it feels further than you ever have been in the past ten years.

“Look, Hoseok,” you begin again, using his first name, voice softer now, but back to the level tone you'd opened with before. Leaning back in your chair, you press a hand to your forehead briefly as you tighten the reins on your senses and responsibilities.

“We were... who we were ten years ago. We aren't those people anymore. Now, either way, we’re still going to have to work together, and I really do want the best for this program. I’m sure you do too. It’s going to be good for both of us. Let’s both just… drop this, okay? So we can do this amicably, professionally. Believe it or not, I don’t want to fight with you. I want us to get along well. Let us leave things as they were.”

There’s a sort of quietness in his eyes when he next looks at you, but it’s so fleeting you think you’ve imagined it.

“Okay. I don’t want us to fight either. I won’t talk about it anymore.”

He unclasps his hands and reaches across to extend one to you.

“We can be colleagues, then? Friends?”

You consider it, and him for a moment, and against your better judgement, you slide your hand into his.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Friends.”

He squeezes your smaller hand in his for a short moment before releasing it. It feels warm, reassuring, constant. There’s a short but much more comfortable silence as the two of you figure out how to re-orient yourselves to navigate this new dynamic.

“So you said something about viewing practice rooms in the conservatory?” Hoseok starts, and you’re glad for something else to talk about. Work. Yes, you can talk about work.

“Yes, I thought I’d show you some of the rooms today so you can see which you’d prefer best for teaching.”

Hoseok looks at his watch and then back at you apologetically. “I can’t today, I’ve got to start hair and makeup for a shoot on the other side of the city in about forty minutes.”

“It’s okay. Hmm.” You chew on the back of your pen as you flip through your planner. “Next week? Say… Friday, around three?”

“Works for me. There’s a cafe nearby as well, we can get coffee after if you like.”

You tense up, and clearly, it shows, because Hoseok immediately backpedals and you feel a little guilty. The two of you had agreed to try to get along well, and this was him trying.

“I mean, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to, I was just thinking, and I’m sure you have better th-“

“No, let’s do it.” You offer a small smile and he relaxes. “It’d be good for us to get to know what our creative and working styles are."

“That.. that’s great. I’ll text you, what’s your number?”

“You can call my office.”

"You're not really expecting me to -" Hoseok rolls his eyes and holds out his hand. “Give me your phone, ____.”

After a moment of you not responding, he raises his eyebrows and thrusts his hand out to you again, spreading it in a come on, give it motion. You pass your phone over, albeit hesitantly.

He taps away at the screen for a few seconds. His own phone buzzes in a missed call before he offers the phone back to you.

“Text me.”

You reach out to take it wordlessly, but at the last minute he draws his hand back and your fingers close around thin air.

“Text me.” He empasizes knowingly. You try not to feel like a child who’s just been warned not to misbehave.

“Fine.” You concede, grumbling. “Give it.”

He slides the phone into your hand for real this time and standing from the chair. You say your goodbyes, and when the door finally closes, you heave a sigh and clutch your pen just to have something to grip, because if that wasn’t the most emotionally taxing meeting you’ve had this week -

“______!” The sudden exclamation of your name and your office door opening abruptly shocks you to attention. Your drop your pen, eyes wide and back ramrod straight.

Hoseok has stuck his head back through the door, and there's a smile he's biting back, knowing that he’s startled you.

“Text me, okay?”

“Jesus, what the heck. Okay, okay, I’ll text you,” You grit out.

His grin shifts into a lopsided half smile, and it looks so much like what you'd have given up everything for ten years ago that your chest tightens, whether you like it or not.

“Just reminding you.”

And with that he disappears back behind the door, letting it swing shut. You eye it tensely for a few moments. Just in case.

When you’re sure Hoseok isn’t going to come bursting back in, you slump back in your chair, one hand on your chest to calm yourself, heart still going a mile a minute. Unlocking your phone to text Taehyung, you nearly choke when you see Hoseok has saved his number with a little sun emoji at the end of his name. It’s cute and you want to fling yourself out of the window.

Dont you dare. You say to yourself. Don’t you fucking dare.

So you most definitely hadn’t planned your week around having the second half of your Friday free so that you could go home, take a shower, reapply your makeup, and then head back to where you just came from. You’d just felt grotty from a long day, and it was just courtesy to be well groomed, right? Those two full outfits laid out on the chaise lounge in your wardrobe that you’re currently eyeing? If they’ve been picked out with slightly more care? You pride yourself on being always perfectly dressed and all this pomp and circumstance was most definitely not because you were meeting Jung Hoseok, stop it, shut up, leave you alone.

There’s a soft knock on the door, and your housekeeper Madam Han enters with tea and a small plate of cookies on a tray which she sets on the small coffee table.

“Thought you might need snacks for whatever life crisis you’re working through in here.”

You make a vague approving noise in the back of your throat, and when it becomes apparent you’re not listening, she comes up beside you to peek at what you’re staring at.

“Date outfit dilemma, Ms. ______ ?”

“Mmm.” You purse your lips. “Do you think the pinstripe - NO?”

Your voice shoots through two octaves, but Madam Han just tucks the empty tray under her arm with a knowing smile and chucks you under the chin softly. “Never could fool me, little sparrow.”

“Madam Han, stop it, it’s not a date.” You fold your arms huffily and drag out the syllables, but your cheeks color anyway. Your housekeeper had an uncanny way for making you feel like a five year old caught in a lie.

No, hold on, it’s not a lie. This most certainly wasn’t a date.

She appraises the two outfits for a moment. “I think the dark jeans with the pinstripe blazer. Professional, but casual. Men seem to love that dressed down look these days.” Madam Han smiles fondly at you.

“Yes, I thought the - no, this is not happening.” You take your darling housekeeper by the shoulders with as much love as possible and steer her to the door, grabbing the plate of cookies as a last resort and thrusting them back into her hands. “Here. Please take these back. I don’t want them so you should go put them back in the jar. Or eat them, take them to Jungkook, whatever.”

Before she can get another word out, you’re closing the door in her bewildered face and stomping back to the clothes. You let the decision stew for another minute before you grab the jeans and blazer off the chaise lounge, muttering quietly under your breath.

You’re a leg and a half into your jeans when your phone rings shrilly for the third time in a row. Hobbling over to the little island counter in the middle of the room, you answer it and wedge the phone between your shoulder and ear, shimmying the pants over your hips.

Taehyung’s voice floats through the receiver before you’ve even had the chance to ask who it is.

“I’ve called to offer my services in solving the outfit dilemma you’re currently eyeballs deep in.”

You grab the phone from your shoulder and scowl at it for a moment before putting it back to your ear.

“Why do people keep saying that? I’m not having an outfit dilemma.”

“Don’t scowl at me. You are.”

“Did you install cameras in my house?” You look around the room.

“It was a hunch but thank you for the confirmation. And you always do that ugly scrunchy face when you’re caught in the act anyway. It gives you premature wrinkles, you know.”

“Do not.” You huff, but you relax your face.

Taehyung’s laugh rings crackily through the phone. “So? Have you decided? Send me a photo.”

You grumble a bit, but you figure your fashion afficionado best friend should be at least useful in times like these. Times like these, meaning a very non-date meeting. You finish buttoning your jeans, pull on a white t-shirt, and slip your arms into the jacket. Moving to face the mirror, you snap a quick photo and send it to him.

There’s a short pause and a ping as your message goes through.

“Mmm.”

“What does that mean?” There’s a panicked edge to your voice.

“It’s a good date outfit.” A short pause. “The Dior bar jacket is a nice touch. Makes your waist look small. I’m sure Hoseok will want to put his hands all over it.”

“Taehyung! For the thousandth time, it’s not a date!”

“Don’t sound so scandalised, princess. Thank me for validating your choices later.”

You scowl at your phone and finger mash the end call button, shrugging yourself out of the jacket and chuck it back on the chair. Grabbing your work bag, you sweep the essentials on your dresser in it and head out. The jacket grabs your attention again as you’re about to leave - it looks a little forlorn, tossed aside. You consider it for a long moment before swiping it off the chaise lounge and stomping out of your room, muttering all the way to the car waiting out front.

“It’s not a date.”

PREV / NEXT

#my sunshine hobi ☀️#poaw #hobi fic #hoseok fic #jung hoseok #bts

2 notes · View notes

blog-name-idk · 2 years

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Everything Falls (Into Place) | 24

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 4469

Warnings: Smut

~~~~~

You J-Hoooope! You're not in your room

Hobi Hi! I went for a walk

You Are you free for lunch today?

Hobi I am, are we all doing something?

You I thought it would be nice if we hung out It's been a while since it's just been the two of us :)

Hobi Um, actually I might be busy Let me check and I'll get back to you

You Oh okay! No pressure I just miss my sunshine ☀️

Hobi I miss you too

Hoseok frowned at his phone, feeling a little guilty about lying to you about lunch plans. But he didn't know if he could put on his usual happy face if the two of you were alone together. He knew the thing people liked the most about him was his cheerful nature, and he didn't want to inflict his sad mood onto you. Even if the wilting leaves in his chest were begging for the sunlight in your smile.

"Hyung, what's wrong?" Asked Jungkook, seeing the storm clouds on his face. Hobi just sighed and handed the younger boy his phone. Jin peeked over his shoulder to read it, then also frowned.

"Hobi, you shouldn't avoid her like this," the eldest urged, setting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jungkook nodded, giving him a one-armed hug. "Wouldn't [y/n] be more sad if she knew you were avoiding her?"

"I don't want to avoid her forever," the dancer protested, feeling a little ashamed that he seemed to be the only one truly upset. "I just… don't think I can be happy in front of her today."

"She's your friend, why would you need to pretend?" Jin asked, crossing his arms.

Hobi sighed. He knew Jin and Jungkook meant well, but they didn't understand. They were honest-to-goodness dreamboats with top tier good looks, intelligence, charm, and talent. Of course they thought everything was going to work out. For them, it probably would.

For all his cheerfulness and good humor, at the end of the day he was a realist. It was why he had gone to college for a degree rather than the capital to go all-out pursuing a dance career. And it was why he had to accept that there was no way someone as incredible as you would so much as glance his way when there were guys like Jin vying for your attention.

He didn't resent the others - how could he, when they were the best friends he had ever had - but it did still hurt sometimes. Still, they were right that avoiding you now wouldn't make things any easier in the long run. He would have to suck it up.

Hobi I'm free!

You Yay! I'm at Mina's now but want to meet up around noon?

Hobi Works for me :)

~~~~~

You fidgeted nervously while you waited for Hobi by your usual taco place. You had somehow managed to slip out of the house to visit Mina without running into anyone, which was a relief because you were still a little embarrassed that basically everyone had heard you last night. You knew you'd have to face them eventually, but a little time would help.

The largest cause of your current nerves was your impending conversation with Hobi. Despite the way Jimin and Tae assured you of his feelings, it was still terrifying to put yourself out there. Still, Jin had asked you to talk to him and he wasn't one to make requests lightly.

A familiar head of hair appeared around the corner and you perked up, waving. He waved back, but when he reached you you noticed that his smile seemed a little dimmer than usual.

When you hugged him hello, his embrace was also looser than normal, and he pulled away almost immediately. You hid a worried frown as your nerves spiked higher and followed him into the small restaurant.

"Is everything okay?" You asked after the two of you sat down at your usual table.

"I'm just a little tired," he replied with a smile that should have been reassuring. You flushed a little at the implication and looked down at the table, feeling awful at having beem that roommate.

"Er, I'm really sorry about that," you stammered in embarrassment.

"No it's fine, I'm happy for you guys."

There was that faux-smile again, and his voice had developed a tight quality that made your heart sink. The others had told you he had feelings for you, but that didn't mean they knew how he stood on the whole house situation. Could he be disappointed in you? Disgusted? Still, you had told the other boys you would do this.

"Oh, um, I was kind of hoping…" You tried to catch his eye, but he avoided your gaze and studied the five-item menu that the both of you already knew by heart. Fuck, this was way too hard, you couldn't do it.

"Um, do you hate me now?" Your mouth blurted instead, making you wince. That caught his attention, and his head snapped toward you, eyes wide.

"What? Of course not," he protested immediately, and it felt like the most honest thing he had said to you all day. He hesitated, looking as if he was fighting an internal war, before taking your hand with a smile that was feeble but genuine. "I'm sorry, what were you saying before?"

"Iwaskindofhopingyoumightactuallybealittlejealous."

He blinked in confusion, and despite your fear your heart fluttered at how absolutely adorable he was. It really wasn't fair.

"Er, I didn't catch that," he said apologetically, and you sighed.

"Um. What would you think if… hypothetically… I also had feelings for you… hypothetically…" You were such a fucking loser. His mouth fell open in a cute "o" and you fidgeted.

"Hypothetically!" You added again, wincing at how awkward you were making this. "So don't worry if-"

"Really?" His voice was a squeak and he was looking at you incredulously. Oh god, he thought you were insane. You had to get out of here.

"Uhh nevermind, I just remembered I have to go do something!" You jumped out of your seat to flee like a coward but his hand shot out to grab your wrist. He immediately let go, looking panicked, then grabbed it again more gently when you turned to leave. He pulled you into the chair next to him and stared at you while you tried to look anywhere but at him.

"You… hypothetically… like me?" He whispered softly, and at his tone you finally met his eyes. There was so much emotion swirling in them that you felt your cheeks flush at the attention.

"Yeah… hypothetically," you whispered back, feeling like you were under a spell. His face broke into a brilliant grin at your admission.

"I would say - hypothetically - that the feeling is mutual."

And then his lips were on yours. You didn't know how it was possible for someone to taste like joy, but he somehow managed it. His kiss made you feel like you were basking in the warmth of the sun and you leaned eagerly into him. You felt the corners of his mouth turn into a smile against your lips and couldn't help but giggle and break away.

"I know you guys are regulars and all but can you save that shit for later?"

The unamused, underpaid high school student who was here helping out his parents stood at the table with his arms crossed. You and Hobi grinned at him apologetically before ordering, and you moved back to the other side. He reached over the table to hold your hand a little bashfully, and his blush was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

"So you're okay with the whole… others situation?" You asked tentatively, though you felt too giddy to be nervous anymore.

"I think so," your friend responded with his more typical chirpiness. "Enough to try, anyway. Is there anyone else other than Tae and Jimin?"

You flushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

"I... kindoflikeallofyou," you said in a rush, just wanting to get it over with. Hobi just smiled and rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles. "The only other one who knows is Jin, though."

"Okay," he said simply, gazing at you with adoring eyes. You internally swooned at how handsome he looked. How many people had you saved in a previous life for you to be this lucky?

The high schooler set your food on your table with a tired sigh before heading back to the counter. Well, you'd definitely saved more than this kid apparently. He sounded even more world weary than Yoongi at his grumpiest.

The two of you finished eating and left with no more incidents, though your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Hobi was being almost as clingy as Taehyung at his worst and you loved every minute of it. You hadn't realized just how much the dancer had been holding himself back. It just never occurred to you that someone as wonderful as him might feel the same insecurities you did.

You held hands the entire way home, and Hobi couldn't stop himself from pausing every couple minutes to squeeze you in a hug or press light kisses all over your face. At one point he even stopped and twirled you around in his arms like a ballroom dancer. He couldn't help it, you were just so cute and sweet and he had wanted to be able to hold you like this for so long.

By the time the two of you got home, you were both giggly and red-faced. Incredibly, no one seemed to be home and he was selfishly grateful to keep you to himself for a little longer.

"Can we have another sleepover like Festa night sometime?" he asked shyly as you closed the front door. It had been impossible not to relive that night over and over, if not for the feel of you in his arms then for the easy laughs and conversation until you had fallen asleep.

"Jung Hoseok, are you trying to get me into bed with you?" you asked sternly, putting your hands on your hips. Panicked by the implication, he didn't notice the twinkle in your eye.

"No! I didn't mean it like that!" he protested immediately, feeling horrified that it had come off that way. Oh no, did you think that he was some perv that was only interested in sex? Well, he did find you incredibly attractive, but what he really wanted was to wake up with you in his arms again.

"O-oh, you don't want me like that?" you asked sadly, face falling. Again he missed the amusement in your tone and panicked further.

"What?! Of course I do, you're gorgeous, I just-"

He stopped talking when you broke into giggles. You were teasing him?

"You're so mean," he complained, trying to look offended but too enchanted by your laughter to manage it. He still did his best to pout, making you smile and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," you chortled, pressing your lips against his in a sweet peck. "You're just so cute."

"Hmph." That was the best he could do as he tried not to melt completely into you.

"Besides, I wouldn't mind."

He froze as his brain raced to catch up to his ears. Really? Lovely, gorgeous, amazing you really felt that way about him? His mind flashed to all of the half-formed images he had never dared to fully imagine, including ones inspired from the torturous symphony of sounds he had heard the previous night.

He crashed his lips down on yours, suddenly ravenous, and you gasped sweetly into his mouth. Unlike his previous chaste, almost shy kisses, this one was hard and deep.

You tasted so, so good and Hobi thought he could drown in your warmth. He threaded one hand through your soft, fruity-scented hair to deepen the kiss and you gave an approving noise halfway between a moan and a whine that sent shudders down his spine straight to his groin.

He licked into your mouth with hot strokes, only growing more enthusiastic when you reciprocated. One of his hands went to your lower back to bring you closer, and your soft curves molded into him perfectly. He was half on auto-pilot, in awe that this was real and he was touching you and you were enjoying it.

"C-can we go upstairs?" He gasped, pulling away before he lost all of his mental faculties. It was hard to keep himself under control when you looked like this, ruffled and breathless and looking at him like you wanted to eat him alive.

"I don't know, can we?" You asked, blinking up at him as innocently as you rolled your hips against his. He couldn't help but groan at the way you rubbed against his growing erection, and grabbed a handful of your ass to press you harder against him. You gave a cute squeal of surprise that only served to make him harder.

"You're really asking for it," he breathed, his tone full of dark promise. He watched in satisfaction as you flushed pink and your pupils dilated further. It was his turn to be surprised as you grabbed his hand and almost dragged him up the stairs and into your room.

As soon as you closed the door, he was on you, pushing you against the wood as he kissed and nipped the soft skin of your neck to add his own marks to the pretty collection you had acquired. You were pliant and perfect, moaning while grabbing fistfuls of his shirt in weak tugs. You rolled your hips against his again, and he cursed at having picked such tight pants in his rush to leave this morning.

Then, because you were an angel (or perhaps the opposite, but he wasn't very picky at the moment), your hand dipped between your bodies. You briefly palmed the uncomfortably tight crotch of his jeans before clumsily undoing the zipper. Your fingers dove under the waistband of his briefs to wrap around his cock and he groaned into your shoulder. He couldn't believe this was really happening. Then you pulled his length out and dropped prettily to your knees and he wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

The sight of you kneeling before him, eyes wide and adoring and hungry was almost enough to make him come then and there. When you took him in your hands to guide his tip to your parted lips he thought he had to be dreaming. He had no idea you were feeling a similar awed wonder that you were the one to put such a wrecked expression on your sweet sunshine Hobi's face.

Your tongue flicked to capture the salty liquid gathering at the tip of his cock and he threw his head back with a soft groan. You couldn't necessarily say you loved the flavor, but the stars in his eyes were more than enough to make it your new favorite meal.

You dove in determinedly, spurred by the gasps tearing themselves from his throat, and using your hands to lave attention on whatever you couldn't fit into your mouth. Hobi's fingers threaded into your hair, more for him to ground himself than to direct you, which you appreciated. Still, you couldn't help but want to see what would happen if he lost control. So you teased.

You alternated between pulling off to give kitten licks, to engulfing him back into your waiting mouth with harsh sucks that had him gasping, all while staring up at him with best "fuck me" eyes you could under the circumstances. It seemed to work, because soon he ripped you off of him and tossed - tossed! - you onto the bed.

You barely had a moment to appreciate just how sexy that action had been because he quickly shed all his clothing, leaving you staring and once more.

"You're so hot, it's not fair," you complained, reaching out to rake admiring fingers down his toned abs. Your words brought a flush to his face, but the smirk that tugged at his lips was anything but cute. The glint in his eyes reminded you of the blatant sexuality he had exuded during the dance showcase and you gulped audibly.

"I'd say the feeling's mutual," he murmured into your ear as he leaned down, before giving it a hot, wet swipe of his tongue. You gasped and wriggled against him, and he slid his hand under your shirt to squeeze your breast over the fabric of your bra.

"O-oh, Hoseok," you whimpered when you gave your nipple a hard pinch. A low, sexy growl sounded from his throat and he nearly ripped your shirt and shorts in his haste to remove them.

"I could hear you say my name like that forever," he said hoarsely, taking a second to admire your almost-naked form before descending upon you again. His mouth was hot, wet, and sloppy against yours and his roving hands were everywhere. You weren't much better, eagerly mapping out every inch of skin you had dreamed of since walking in on him in the shower so long ago. You squeezed a handful of his toned ass and he bucked into you, making you both moan as his length rubbed against you.

"I'm assuming Jimin and Tae took care of that little issue you mentioned during Festa night," he rasped as he rubbed his fingers against the cloth covering your entrance. His eyes darkened when he realized just how damp it already was. "If they didn't I'll murder them."

The threatening tone in his voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard, and it made you impossibly wetter.

"T-they did," you managed, wriggling against him in hopes that he would give you more.

"Good," he said simply, though his eyes were simmering. He grabbed the edges of your underwear, slipping them easily off your hips, while you hurriedly moved to unclasp your bra and toss it aside. The way he licked his lips when he saw you in all your glory was nothing short of sinful. It was hard to feel self-conscious when he was staring at you like you were the most delectable thing he had ever seen.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," he groaned, leaning down to take a pert nipple into his mouth. The noise you made was enough to make him thrust involuntarily against you, making you both gasp at the wet slide on your lower lips, but he controlled himself and held his hips back off of you. Your complaint was cut off as he let his fingers play against your entrance instead, collecting your arousal before he slid a digit inside.

You were having a hard time figuring out where to set your concentration. As soon as you focused on the way his tongue was licking flat stripes against your nipple, his finger would give a wicked twist inside of you. When your hips bucked against his hand, he would give your chest a sharp but enjoyable nibble.

By the time Hobi pulled away, he had reduced you to a trembling, needy mess capable only of gripping your sheets and staring at him with glazed eyes. That lethal smirk widened further as he took in his handiwork.

"I think you still need to make up for lost time, though," he purred. Before your overwhelmed brain could understand what he meant, he had buried his head between your thighs and begun licking at you in earnest.

"F-fuck, Ho-seok," you keened as he gave your clit a flick with his tongue. He thought he might get addicted to the way your breath hitched and voice cracked. You tangled your fingers in his hair, whether to yank him off or shove him closer, you weren't sure. All you knew was that he was eating you out like it was his last meal and all you could do was give his hair weak tugs that he seemed to enjoy by the way he was moaning into your pussy. You felt the coil in your gut wind tighter and tighter with each swipe of his talented tongue, and when he slid a finger into you again you thought you might explode.

"H-holy," you choked as he curled the finger inside of you just so. "H-Hobi."

He pulled away from you momentarily, though he never stopped the ministrations of his finger, even slipping another into your waiting warmth.

"Holy Hobi," he teased. "I like it."

"Shut up," you said, halfway between a gasp and a giggle. You gave him a feeble punch in the chest, unable to summon the motivation for anything else in the wake of his teasing fingers. You pulled him in for a kiss, uncaring of the way his lips were still glistening with your arousal. You rolled your hips against his, brushing his dick again, and he groaned into your mouth.

"Want you," you murmured against his lips, bucking up again. "Please?"

How could he deny you when you asked so sweetly? He scrambled up briefly to lunge for his nightstand, making you giggle again, though by the time he had ripped the foil packet open and rolled the condom down his length your eyes were wide with anticipation. God you were so perfect, lying there soft and ready for him. You gave an impatient wiggle of your hips when he took too long admiring you for your tastes, and he felt his heart flutter with joy.

"I'm coming," he assured you, scooching over to line himself up with your entrance.

"Not immediately, I hope," you quipped back with a grin, before gasping and letting your head fall back as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.

"You make it hard, but I'll do my best," he responded impishly as he teased your outer folds. He couldn't wait long either, though, and soon he was sinking into you inch by torturous inch.

"Oh," he breathed as he worked his way in. You were whimpering and giving weak bucks of your hips to help him along, and it was driving him insane. "You feel so good."

Hobi stilled as he bottomed out, just basking in how warm and wet and perfect you felt stretched out around his cock, until you rubbed against him.

"Move, please," you begged, and again he was helpless to deny you a single thing. He began slowly, wanting to savor the moment as he drank in your whines and moans. It was clear you wanted him to move faster, but he was beginning to enjoy the needy, desperate expression on your face.

"You're so beautiful," he groaned, his slow pace torturing himself as well as you. To distract himself, he reached forward to palm your breasts. You whimpered as he pinched your nipples between clever fingers, bucking up again in a futile effort to get him deeper.

"Hobi, please," you begged, your tone going straight to his dick.

"Hm? What's wrong?" he asked in mock concern, knowing he was being a little mean but unable to help it. You were just so sensitive and pliable, how could he not play with his food for a little bit? He slid slowly in and out, enjoying the snug fit and the absolutely frustrated look in your eyes. You couldn't believe this cruel, cruel tease was your sweet Hobi. But fuck if it wasn't hot.

"Please fuck me like you mean it," you managed to choke with another frustrated buck of your hips. His mouth fell open at your brazen request. Then his eyes darkened further and he licked his lips.

"Well, if that's what my gorgeous girl wants."

You barely had a chance to blush at his words before he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach. You were quivering with anticipation as he dragged your hips up so you were on all fours, and he thrust into you with little preamble, setting a hard, vicious pace that had you arching your back against his chest. You couldn't help the squeaks and moans that spilled from your throat as he gave you exactly what you had asked for.

One of his hands wrapped around your throat from behind and you let out a surprised whine as he used his grip to pull you flush against him. He squeezed, not enough to cut off your air but enough to restrict your blood flow, and your vision fuzzed with pleasure. Who was this Hobi and where had he been hiding the whole time?

"You think you can come for me, pretty girl?" he murmured wickedly against your ear as his other hand inched down to rub lazy circles over your clit. You moaned helplessly at all of the sensations assaulting you, locked into place and unable to do anything but enjoy it as he continued to pound into you.

You felt like Icarus, enthralled by the new heights you were reaching, and completely enraptured by your closeness to the sun. Hobi wound your body tighter and tighter as he took you to the brink, and with one final stroke of his thumb on your clit your wings melted and you plummeted into an ocean of pleasure. He swore as your walls spasmed around him, his own pace growing erratic, until he joined you beneath the waves.

The two of you collapsed sideways onto the sheets, already in perfect spooning position, and you sighed in satisfaction as you turned your head to nuzzle his neck gently.

"I didn't hurt you, right?" he whispered, dark bedroom Hobi apparently having gone back into hiding. You giggled at the duality, turning to fully face him even though it made him slip out of you.

"No, I loved it," you confessed, kissing him on his sweaty nose. "Though I think my lower regions are off-limits for at least the rest of the day, I need to recover."

"Should I thank Jimin and Taehyung for leaving enough of you for me today?" Hobi teased, the gentle look in his eyes taking away any potential negative implications of his statement. Still, you pouted and flicked his ear.

"I can make my own bad decisions, thank you," you said primly, making him laugh. "And you guys make it very difficult to be good."

"I don't have a problem with that."

There was that smirk again as his more domineering alter-ego peeked through, and you shivered a little. No, no, you had to calm down or your body wouldn't be able to take it. So you reluctantly pulled away so the two of you could clean up and confront the rest of the house.

Oh fuck, the rest of the house.

~~~~~

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