Keynote (m)

Keynote (m)

➺ Banner: As usual, the talent hoarder @kithtaehyung​ 💛

➺ Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Non-Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 18.5k

➺ Summary: Sleep was all you had desired, after dealing with an agitating boss, an incompetent coworker and an unsurmountable workload. Right up until your hotel room was flooded with an array of noises from the room next door. Shouting, screaming, begging, moaning. Sleep was all you had desired, but after this night, your desires have grown.

➺ Warnings: (phew lets get this) hard dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, sir kink, voyeurism (she listens through the wall), humping pillow (please don’t let your naked parts touch hotel pillows they are disgusting), nasty dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, masturbation (female), cursing, alcohol, some form of exhibition, name calling, is it siya’s fic if a tie hasn’t been turned into a leash, unsafe driving, we have safewords, grinding on shoe, nipple teasing, pain kink, face slap, spitting, oral (male receiving), seated reverse cowgirl/seated rear-entry/the perch, unprotected sex (for the love of Hoseok, practice safe sex everybody), creampie, spanking, pussy slap, panty stuffing (fiction doesn’t have infection but real life does, please be careful!!), more unprotected sex, tit slaps, missionary to wrap it all up <3, some makeoutz

➺ Cross Posted: AO3

➺ Author’s Note: Depictions of conference is HIGHLY inaccurate, the one I attended was disgusting and online. Big ups to @taegularities and @jimilter for legitimately fixing this whole fic because English isn’t my forte. And @lavienjin for helping me out in the earlier parts (which was in…. July….). They worked almost as hard editing the fic as I did writing, for which I am immensely grateful 💛 Thank you for your patience, and let me know what you think!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

“Soomin, how in the world do you work for a tech company,” you scream into the phone, taking a breath after half that sentence tires you out, “and not realize that the projector needs a connection? Did you think it would photosynthesize?!” 

The receptionist, earlier glaring at you for causing a ruckus, now tones down her frown after hearing the reason for your agony. Even she understands. 

Keep reading

back-burner | 01

sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff

WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, alcohol consumption, drunk rambling

WORDS. 2.8k

NOTE. hey ya'll!!! sorry for being a lil MIA 😓 things have gotten super busy recently but I managed to whip out a lil wip and plan for a lil drabble series hehe. I'll probably add the tags along the way so it's hard to say where this will go lol but I hope you enjoy!!

unedited :-( !!!!

back-burner masterlist | next chapter

"You're staring again."

Jeon Jungkook is a lot of things. Capable, talented, your self-proclaimed best friend, a multi-faceted nursing student, and handsome. What he wasn't, however, was helpful.

"Wow, thank you for letting me know. It's as if these aren't my own eyes that are doing said staring you speak off," you snap sarcastically, tipping the last bit of vodka and rum down your throat as you wince at the burn.

"That smart-ass mouth isn't going to shift reality," he retorts, snatching your glass away as you glare at him.

"Haven't you heard of manifestation? Speak it into existence, they say," you babble on, mumbling to yourself as you slump further down the plush leather seats.

The gala was beautiful, as usual. Rich and accomplished people alike were mingling with one another while their charming smiles reflected off marble surfaces to highlight their apparent brightness. It was both blinding and exhausting to constantly be surrounded by such greatness, especially to a point where people approached you thinking that you were equally as capable of it.

You weren't, and you don't think you'd ever be.

"Hm, sure." Jungkook rolls his eyes at you dismissively before he considers your words with his eyes looking upwards thoughtfully. "Maybe if you actually acknowledged your feelings then something could happen."

You scowl, drowning yourself lower to a point where your face is nearly squashed under the weight of your shoulders, your face morphed into an expression that's commonplace for you. You don't acknowledge the disapproving stares that a few of these socialites give you when they pass you, affronted to witness a woman like yourself allow herself to look as loose-ended as you were.

"Who says I'm not acknowledging it?"

"No one," Jungkook blinks before he's turning to where your line of vision ends, and you're bitterly reminded of what he was referring to when your eyes settle on them once more. "But the fact Yoongi's clinking glasses with Haerin in hand says something."

"So?" you snap, shifting back into a comfortable position before you're waving a waiter down for more booze. "They can do whatever they want."

"And if that's each other?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

You stomp on his foot as he yelps, sending you a lethal glare while you return his gesture with a sickly plastic smile. You don't bother listening when Jungkook begins muttering curses under his breath, and neither do you care about Yoongi or Haerin and how beautiful they looked together. Or how your heart was never with you when he was around, always two steps further than where it should've been. No. You don't care.

Jungkook pushes himself off the seat before shooting you one last once-over accompanied with a deep sigh before he's retreating to where the rest of his peers lay. You had no qualms of him leaving you, in fact, you appreciated the space. You rather be alone now, anyway.

"Another vodka and rum, please," you request from the waiter that bends ever so slightly to catch your order.

"Again, Miss ____?"

You don't appreciate the look of surprise on the waiter's face. You don't even remember if you've ordered from him previously, but the fact that he's sending you very judgemental eyes tell you enough; and your booze-hazed mind sends your mouth running before you can think of giving the man a break.

"Listen, Steve, my father didn't rent out this entire venue for you to micromanage my drinking habits, okay?" Your eyes narrow at him while his eyes widen.

"No Miss, that's not what—"

"Not what you meant?" you snort, "Come on. I've heard better. Just give me my damn alcohol and—!"

"Sorry, Steve." A voice interrupts apologetically as you recognise it immediately. Your body tingles with warmth at the low baritone of your newly joined guest, but you're still a little too drunk to comprehend it. "I'll take care of her."

Steve leaves, bowing apologetically before shooting you an annoyed expression that you think was meant to be kept to himself. You're just about to climb out of your seat to give him a piece of your mind before a large hand wraps around your waist to drag you back to your seat.

"What the—?"

"Having fun?" When you look up, Yoongi's shooting you an amused smile. It's nothing ostentatious, but it's Yoongi. A little cold but genuine nevertheless. You hate that despite your alcohol-fueled mind, your heart still flutters.

"Go away, Yoongi," you grumble.

"Can't do," he chuckles before he's releasing his grip around you.

You scoff. "Go away. I don't need you micromanaging me either."

"Not micromanaging," he hums, right as he occupies the vacant seat that Jungkook's left. "I care about your liver."

"Do you," you sneer.

"Matter of fact, I do. And so do your parents so I'm doing them a favour by not giving them a heart attack when they find out you're hospitalised because you had alcohol poisoning," he says pointedly as you scowl, "Did you even eat?"

"Yes," you lie.

"An entré from two hours ago doesn't count," he deadpans.

You sigh before you're glaring at him through your drunken eyes.

Yoongi doesn't look mad. You don't think he's capable of being anything but the tempered person he was. Rather, he looks amused, as if your clear distaste for his assistance humoured him than annoyed him like any other person. But Yoongi wasn't like everyone else. You disliked people in general and you didn't like Yoongi.

And unfortunately for your stupid, puny heart, it was the exact opposite of what you felt.

"Come on," he urges you with an extended hand, "You got to eat."

"Who are you, my dad?" you groan.

Yoongi levels you with an unimpressed look before he's making an effort to wrap his palm around your arm himself. You shiver at the contact, distracting yourself from the way your heart stammers in your chest to shoot a menacing glare at the man before you.

"No, I'm your friend and I care about you," he says easily before he's bringing you up with him when he stands up.

You yelp, dizzy on your feet as you stumble into his chest. Yoongi already has his arms extended, prepared for your inebriated stance when his palms rest on your waist to balance you out. He's warm. Cosy like your favourite blanket while all you wanted to do was snuggle deeper into his embrace. But when you peer up at him and see his concerned stare, one that was undoubtedly platonic, you feel yourself scowling at the harsh reality check.

"Aren't you busy?" you sneer bitterly, cocking your head to the side from where you remembered him and Haerin engaged in a rather amorous discussion.

"With your sister?" he raises a brow, "Your father called her over."

You scoff.

Of course. The only reason he was here and the only reason he ever spoke to you was that your sister wasn't available. It was always as if you were the second option, a convenient emblem to gravitate towards when he couldn't get the real thing. It was a bitter thought, that you only ever knew of Yoongi because of Haerin.

You would never be anything more than what you currently were to him.

Yoongi was older than you, as old as your older sister and that meant you watched him graduate before you, get his drivers license before you, attend prom before you. All of the things that you considered milestones in your life. And the worst part was that he did it all with Haerin by his side. The proof of their blooming friendship was there in the pictures of her room, on her social media pages and the friendly relations that both your families had with each other.

You first met Yoongi after a particularly strenuous day in middle school. You were just getting to know the concept of teenage angst and responsibilities when you came back home, exhausted from the load of homework your teachers had assigned you right before your final exams.

Haerin was already at the dinner table at that time, caught up in her senior assignments while she typed away on her laptop.

That time, Yoongi appeared.

You remember stopping in your tracks when you spotted the new guest, dark fringe covering his forehead while a beanie rested on his head. He had a large hoodie on that covered his rather narrow build, but he was still taller than you and your sister. You didn't know who he was, but you weren't blind. He was gorgeous. The prettiest boy you've ever seen and you befriended enough band kids throughout your life at that point.

When Haerin notices you awkwardly hovering by the door, only does she offer you a small smile as a greeting.

"Hey." It's friendly enough, but when she looks over to Yoongi, then to you, you gulp. "This is Yoongi. We're working on a project together."

When Yoongi finally looks up, his eyes are warm and friendly, but they hold a rather cold edge to them. One that sends a shudder down your spine as you quickly blurt out an introduction of your own before you're scampering off to your room.

From then on, the rest was history.

You and Yoongi grew closer the more Haerin and his friendship bloomed. What started as a group project eventually blossomed into a friendship that they labelled as 'forever'. Yoongi was always kind to you, offered to drop you off places, gave you advice when you were the one dealing with senioritis; explained 'adult' concepts like taxes and insurance to you when you were curious; fixed the engine in your car for you when it failed you in the middle of nowhere, and he even was the one that accompanied you to get your wisdom teeth extracted.

Yoongi wasn't just Haerin's best friend, but yours too. The difference was that the two of them were clearly more than that while you were forced to watch.

So when you return back to reality, eyes slightly unfocused when they rest on Yoongi's face, you're disgruntled in the reminder of where you stood, and who you were to him.

"Of course," you say with an eye-roll before you're pushing yourself off of him, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Yoongi frowns at your stubbornness, especially when your words don't ring true when you take a shaky step away from him, ready to establish distance. Your head still spins but you rather get away from everything when you were loose-lipped than have Yoongi hold his friendship with Haerin over your head like a silent victory.

"Clearly not," he sounds displeased when his hand wraps around your bicep to turn around, "You're drunk."

"And you're being annoying," you snap, "Just—go—back."

You emphasise your points by shoving your finger into his chest, and now when your rage clears your mind ever so slightly, you nearly groan at how devastatingly handsome he looks tonight.

Suits complimented Yoongi's physique beautifully. Especially ones where his dress shirt was tucked in his pants, paired with a silver-toned belt that cinched his waist. The goddamn YSL black blazer that drapes over his shoulder only makes him broader, and you curse the Gods above for making him frequent the gym more recently.

"Don't be stubborn," he sighs, tightening his grip on your bicep.

"Don't be pushy," you throw your words back, huffing while you scowl at him.

"You're drunk," he reminds you gruffly, "Your sister would kill me if I let you go off like this."

And there it was.

You shove his grip off you with as much force as you can as you seethe. Yoongi's eyes widen at your blatant display of strength, especially when your eyes are livid when they rest on his stunned expression.

"Of course you're doing this for Haerin," you scoff bitterly while Yoongi just looks confused. "Guess what, Yoongi? I don't want you doing shit for me because you feel obliged to my sister to take care of her little sister. I'm responsible for myself and not for this hero complex you have, or if you want to impress her. Go fuck yourself and leave me alone."

"What are you saying," he says levelly, unimpressed.

This is the first time you've seen Yoongi look rather ... displeased.

Sure, he's looked annoyed before. He was only human. But this expression on Yoongi looks nearly blazing, and if you were any soberer, you'd drop it. But you weren't, and your mouth moves at its own accord.

"What I'm saying is that you have your head so far up her ass that you don't see anything in front of you!" you exasperate, throwing your hands up in the air. You're mildly aware that your voice is rising and that a few other people were beginning to take notice of your developing argument with Yoongi.

"Listen, let me take you home and—"

You interrupt him with a deprecating laugh, mostly to yourself as you shake your head in disappointment.

"Are you stupid? Do you not know how to take no for an answer?" you ask in disbelief, and Yoongi actually glares at you at your clear jibe at him.

"____, don't test me," he warns.

You snort, waving him off just as you see Jungkook enter your peripheral. Your friend looks rather alarmed and he's making his way over in a hurry, but you're quick with your words.

"Ooh. I'm so scared," you pout, peering up at him through your eyelashes before you're rolling your eyes at Yoongi's stone-faced expression. "Fuck off, Yoongi. Go back to my sister because that's clearly where you belong."

"____—" you hear Jungkook approach you with worry, voice a pitched higher before he's attempting to intercept your and Yoongi's conversation.

"I can deal with it," Yoongi says bluntly.

"Hyung, she's drunk and she's not in her—"

"Oh, I know. But whatever she wants to say to me she can say it to my face," Yoongi laughs tightly before you're scoffing at him.

Jungkook looks panicked, eyes darting in-between the both of you as you find power in driving Yoongi up the wall. Especially when this is the first time you've ever seen him anything less than composed.

"Really? Let me start, then," you smile plastically.

"Do enlighten me," Yoongi blinks.

"Guys I think—"

"You're an annoying asshole," you sneer, poking his chest while your eyes stay trained on his unchanging expression. "You act like you care about me when all you really care about is making yourself look like a good man in front of my sister."

"You're drunk—!" Jungkook hisses, squeezing your shoulder in warning as you drunkenly shove his hand off of you.

Yoongi remains blank in his face and that only irks you even more.

"You always come in and rescue me when you think I need saving but you don't care if I get into trouble! You never do! All the shit you do is cause—cause you want to fuck my sister, want to be this big macho saviour—"

"Okay, that's enough," Jungkook snaps, clamping a mouth over your mouth as you thrash in his hold.

The look on Yoongi's face is menacing. Your eyes widen when you note that it's terrifying that he doesn't move an inch, not even when his eyes slowly drift onto Jungkook's figure attempting to silence your muffled shouts under his palm.

People are staring, but you couldn't care less. Not when Yoongi raises one lone brow that has you shuddering.

"Let her go, Jungkook."

Jungkook freezes, and you take that moment of weakness to bite his hand as he yelps and retreats his palm.

"Ha! See? You're trying to embody this alpha male character," you snort as you feel Jungkook melt helplessly behind you.

"Am I," Yoongi blinks, unamused.

"Duh," you say obviously before rolling your eyes. "You know what. Just fuck right out of here and leave me alone. Let me know if you get into my sister's pants for what you did to me, yeah?"

"Follow me."

Jungkook freezes. You freeze.

And it's all because Yoongi has never sounded like that before.

Like he's threatening you.

"W-What?" you stammer, eyes rapidly blinking.

"We're going to talk," he says calmly, taking a deep breath before he's turning on his feet.

His back is turned to you when you gawk at him. "W-What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"

Yoongi stops for just a beat, hands stuffed in his pockets when the silence quite literally makes your throat dry.

"Because ..." he says in a low tone as you feel your breath hitch, "The shit I'm going to say and do to you isn't going to be in front of an audience."

He throws you a cold look over your shoulder as you nearly cower at his gaze alone.

When he strides forward, you feel compelled to follow. And you hate that your mind decides that you are.

When you turn to Jungkook, he's as pale as you are, but all he can offer is a weak pat to your shoulder.

"Good fucking luck."

Yes please!!!

OTHER HALF Masterlist

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader | Werewolf AU

Premise: Never having had much growing up, or someone to call your own, having to walk away from your true mate is a heart-wrenching trial in itself. Having to pick up your pieces and find your place again, your sense of feeling incomplete is challenged by an enigmatic wolf, Yoongi.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Taglist: @dejavante @ladyartemesia @veronawrites @xjoonchildx @ot7lonelylover @bansheehunteremissary @xius-exos @koalaswillpeeonyou @lyanalvarado @min-yus @sweettaeguk @girlinthemikrokosmos @afangirllikeme-blog @btsmylife21 @btsis7okay

(Ping me to be added here! )

athina’s endless list of fav seokjin fics

welcome! after almost 2.5 years of reading bts fanfiction and almost 1.5 year of deciding to use this untouched side blog as a bts fanfic review blog (bc i hate being a silent reader), i think it’s time to do a list of the seokjin stories that i liked the most! don’t forget to show love to all the fanfic authors!!! thank you for providing us such incredible stories❣️

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Last Man

Hoseok's been sent to investigate a murder in a small town, where he meets you, trying to keep everything around you from falling apart.

Pairing: Hoseok x F! reader

Genre: Non-idol, police detective AU, smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing, sex, murder, mentions of blood, non-graphic violence, investigative police work

Tagging: @lost-lospandos Here's cop Hoseok!

Hoseok’s had a long day, and it looks nowhere close to being over. He’s been ordered down to this one-horse town by his direct superior, assistant director Joan Kim, to look into a murder.

As far as he knows, Joan isn’t just in it to torture him, so there’s more to this than meets the eye. It would have been great if just this one fucking time Joan could give him the information instead of waiting for him to find it out himself, but he’s got to admit she’s consistent if nothing else.

He parks his car outside the police station, taking a moment to look in the mirror and wish he’d taken the time to change prior to driving here.

He’s wearing a black cashmere sweater, not a colour he normally wears, but his sister had convinced him he’d look suave and sophisticated for his date.

His date, a woman who took one look at him and called him for the cop he is and then asked nervously if he had done a background check on her. The date had gone downhill from there.

He hadn’t even had a chance to have dessert, and if he’d been a smarter man he’d have downed the rest of his wine to be over the legal limit for driving down here the instant he got the call.  

As it is, he’s sexually frustrated, hungry and too fucking sober for this.

Hoseok forces himself to stop sulking and get his ass out the car, because the sooner he gets to the bottom of this, the sooner he can get back to his lonely-ass life back home.

He braces himself as he walks across the car park to the entrance of the station. Local detectives, especially in towns like this, are classically hostile to state detectives. He’s used to it, used to the sideways glances, the barely civil mutterings and today he’s on his last nerve.

The first person he sees as he walks in is you, and he almost walks right past you until you stand in his way.

‘Special Agent Jung Hoseok?’ you ask.

Hoseok nods politely because he’s got manners, but he’s already looking beyond you for the detective who’s meant to meet him.

‘I’m Detective Y/N L/N,’ you say, persistent.

Finally, Hoseok looks at you.

Usually, local detectives wear uniform in towns like this.

You’re wearing a slinky black dress and heels that make him wish your beautiful legs were wrapped around him.

He’s one to talk, in his black cashmere and dress trousers.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I wasn’t expecting –’

‘Yeah, I was on a date,’ you say briskly, leading him to your office.

‘Me too,’ Hoseok says.

‘Yeah? Was yours going well?’ you ask, throwing him a friendly smile.

‘Not particularly,’ he replies, honest.

‘Mine either,’ you admit.

Hoseok wonders what kind of fool would mess up a date with you.

You brief him on the case whilst coffee brews in the staffroom across the way.

Hoseok clicks through the crime scene photos on your desktop as you give him the details.

‘The victim was a waitress at the diner down the street, a college student on summer break. She was found in an alley a few streets down three hours ago. The ME’s doing the post-mortem as we speak, but it looks like blood loss from multiple stab wounds.’

Hoseok’s waiting for you to get to the point, because so far there isn’t anything about this case that necessitates state involvement. Why is he here?

It’s like you can sense his impatience, because you say, ‘It’s the third murder in as many days, all the same MO, all young women in the street, all stabbed to death.’

Bingo.

Hoseok sits up straighter. ‘Three murders in three days?’ he asks, voice betraying his concern.

You nod. ‘Technically the last two were within 18 hours of each other.’

Shit. You haven’t just got a serial killer, you’ve also got an escalating pattern of violence. Hoseok doubts you have enough manpower in your force to deal with this, especially not with the time constraint.

He can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline through his bloodstream, the urgency of the situation finally galvanising him out of his sulky, sex-deprived, hungry funk.

This is where he comes in.

‘I’m going to need to make a few calls,’ he says.

***

Hoseok looks out of the window as you drive, street-lights giving him flashes of the town in between swathes of darkness.

So far, nothing seems to stand out about this place apart from the fact there’s a serial killer in your midst and that you’re the best detective he’s had the pleasure of working with in a while.

And it is a pleasure working with you, you’re smart and thoughtful and you don’t seem to have a chip on your shoulder about working with ‘the asshole from state’ as he’s heard himself charmingly referred to in the past.

You’ve changed out of your slinky dress into standard issue khakis and an oversized jacket, which means he can be less careful about where his eyes land when he’s thinking.

Thank God for small favours.

The first crime scene is still taped off, you look at him apologetically as you lift it for him to duck under.

‘My forensics team are on the way, so it’s good that it’s still taped off, for what it’s worth,’ Hoseok says, reassuring. It’s unlikely anything now will be admissible as evidence, given it’s a public location and he knows as well as anyone that a bit of tape never stopped anyone from going anywhere.

‘At least they’ll be able to spot the crime scene,’ you say, straight-faced.

Hoseok isn’t sure if you’re joking or not but it’s funny so he laughs anyway.

He puts you out of his head as he surveys the crime scene. He’s observant, he knows he reads a crime scene better than most. At first glance, there’s nothing that stands out here, the blood splatter on the walls correlates to the deepest pool of blood, the signs of a struggle fit with what he’d expect.

You tilt your head, secure in the knowledge you’ve not missed anything obvious in your investigation. ‘The next crime scene is half a block away.’

Hoseok falls into step beside you as you lead him to the next location.

He’s thinking, trying to put himself in the killer’s headspace, concentrating so hard it takes him a couple of seconds to realise you’re speaking.

He looks at you blankly.

You hold up your phone. ‘A call’s just come in – a domestic, I need to take it. Jungkook’s on the way but he hasn’t been doing this long.’

Hoseok nods. ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘You sure?’ you ask, but you’re already jogging back in the direction of the car.

Hoseok knows you’re still waiting on the post-mortems on the last two victims, and although it’s not ideal, without a lead, you might as well be answering call-outs.

You’re pulling up to the house, cutting the engine, when a loud crash resonates through the darkness.

Hoseok’s out the car, muscle memory from years of being a cop over-riding his natural instincts, allowing him to run towards the danger instead of away.

He’s in the open door, assessing the tableau in front of him in seconds. A man, grappling with an officer, a woman crouched beside an overturned table. Hoseok’s looking for any signs of children, and he huffs a sigh of relief when he sees none.

You’re already next to the woman, and although you’d been worried about Jungkook, he seems more than capable of bringing the man in.

Jungkook ushers the man into the back of his squad car, and gives Hoseok a suspicious look.

‘Are you the date?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok says, before his brain engages.

‘If you fuck with Y/N, you fuck with all of us,’ Jungkook says, a snarl on his lips.

‘This is Special Agent Jung Hoseok,’ you say, voice exasperated. ‘Stand down, Officer Jeon.’

Hoseok doesn’t have any time to enjoy the flummoxed look on Jungkook’s handsome face because you’re slapping a hand on his back, hard.

‘Am I going to have trouble with you?’ you ask. Your voice is stern, but there’s the slightest twitch to your lips, like you’re suppressing a smile.

‘No, ma’am,’ Hoseok replies immediately, because he’s not a complete idiot.

‘Good. Let’s get back to the crime scene,’ you say.

***

The clock above the steel gurney shows the time as 4am.

Hoseok’s switched from coffee to water because his heart feels like it’s about to burst from fatigue.

You’re leading the discussion with the ME, a serious-looking man who introduced himself as Dr Kim. You’ve been calling him Namjoon, Joon even. It seems like you know each other well.

Hoseok’s wondering how well you know Dr Kim Namjoon. He knows he’s tired because he snorts when you say the contraction of his name again.

‘Joon’ and you look at him curiously.

To cover his lapse, Hoseok reels off the facts he knows, like he’s recapping.

Multiple stab wounds, most probably a right-handed assailant, tall, judging by the angle of the wounds. Probably six foot, like Dr Kim Namjoon himself.

Hoseok files that fact under things that annoy him about ‘Joon.’

As you’re thanking him, ‘Joon’ breaks into a smile, dimples flashing. He glances over Hoseok, as if assessing if he can be trusted to escort his precious Detective Y/N L/N safely at this hour.

Hoseok doesn’t falter as he meets his gaze. He’s not a cocky guy, but he knows two things. He’s a damn good detective and he’s good in a physical fight.

He realises you’re staring at him.

You put your hand on his arm, gentle.

‘Come on, you can crash at mine,’ you say.

Hoseok’s enjoying the feel of your hand on his arm so much he almost doesn’t notice when you say, ‘bye Joonie.’

Almost.

***

Hoseok wakes abruptly to loud banging. It sounds like it’s coming from the hallway, just outside.

Concern for you has him leaping out of bed, pulling the door open, assessing the situation.

He sees Officer Jeon Jungkook outside your bedroom door and takes two steps forward, looking past his large frame to check on you.

You’re standing in the door, and it takes a moment for Hoseok to regroup, because…

Legs.

You’re in an oversized, soft-looking t-shirt that comes to the tops of your thighs, which look so smooth and soft Hoseok’s got the urge to bury his face between them, use them as pillows to rest his head.

He realises you’re looking at him too, remembers that he hasn’t got anything on his top half.

He spends time in the gym, looks after himself, but he knows that’s not why you’re staring.

The scars on his torso tell their own story, one he doesn’t always want to share.

He’d spent three years under deep cover in Kyoto, Joan Kim had been his only contact with the bureau.

He owes her his life, and she owes him a goddamn raise.

Both you and Jeon Jungkook are staring at him, and you look oddly similar.

‘Are you related?’ Hoseok asks, as though it’s relevant.

‘Cousins,’ you say, closing your mouth.

‘There’s been another murder,’ says Jungkook.

‘Fuck,’ you and Hoseok say, at the same time.

***

The officer securing the crime scene looks relieved when Hoseok and you arrive.

‘Forensics are on the way,’ he tells you.

Hoseok nods and you both approach the body.

It’s another woman, dark-haired, lying face down.

That’s not what has Hoseok dropping to his knees beside her though.

There’s a ripple in the blood pooling around her.

You’re a step ahead, hand under her neck.

‘Fuck!’ you swear. ‘She’s got a pulse.’

Hoseok already shouting for an ambulance, helping you turn her over.

He works on her with you until the EMTs arrive.

***

Hoseok scrubs a hand over his face, phone pressed to his ear.

‘What kind of fucking incompetent idiot called it without checking for signs of life?’ Joan asks. Her voice is quiet, terse, chilling.

Hoseok’s seen grown men, seasoned detectives, crumble under Joan’s icy gaze.

He redirects her attention.

‘The medics have stabilised her, they say they can’t give us a time when she’ll be awake and lucid enough to talk,’ he tells her.

‘Any other leads?’ Joan snaps.

She takes Hoseok’s silence, rightly, as her answer.

‘Call in whatever resources you need,’ she says, hanging up on him.

Hoseok heads back to the waiting room, where you’re on the phone.

‘I’ve reassigned him for the moment,’ you say, referring to the officer who’d made the mistake.

‘I’ve been thinking about links between the victims,’ you tell him.

You bring up your laptop, pull up the files. ‘A student, a grocery store cashier, a librarian and a charity worker. There’s a superficial resemblance between them all, they’re similar in colouring, in their twenties. They don’t have anything in common. They didn’t know each other.’

‘What about where the bodies were found?’ Hoseok asks, considering.

‘Public places. Two in alleyways, one in a park, one near the canal.’ You rub your eyes tiredly.

‘Forensics put a rush on scrapings from under our latest victim’s fingernails, so far there’s no DNA match,’ Hoseok reports, checking his phone.

‘It’s a lead,’ you say. ‘He was sloppy with the last victim.’

‘Any leads from boyfriends, families, friends?’ Hoseok asks.

‘They were all single,’ you reply.

Your phone lights up, and Hoseok watches as you turn it over.

You notice his curious look.

‘It’s my date from yesterday. He’s been trying to get in touch,’ you say.

Hoseok frowns. ‘He knows you’re a cop, doesn’t he?’

‘He won’t stop calling,’ you say, absently, rubbing your neck.

You pick up your phone. ‘I’ll just call him and tell him to stop calling me.’

Hoseok watches as you get up and walk out to make your phone call.

He goes over the crime scene reports again, the interview transcripts.

When you get back, you’re frowning.

‘He wants to meet up later,’ you tell him, although he hasn’t asked.

Hoseok shakes his head, irritated on your behalf. ‘Is this what dating is like for women?’

‘I imagine it’s worse for women who don’t carry a gun,’ you say, matter-of-fact.

Hoseok thinks you’ve made a fair point.

***

The state forensics team haven’t uncovered anything new from their investigation. The DNA is still unmatched.

Hoseok’s spent the whole day reading reports, waiting for the doctors to clear the latest victim so he can take a statement.

It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Jungkook’s brought him some spare clothes, muttering something about ‘having the decency to be dressed when you’re a guest in someone else’s house.’

Hoseok had muttered something back about ‘letting yourself into someone’s house without permission’, to which Jungkook had given him a dark look.

You’d mediated by fixing dinner for all three of you.

After dinner, you’d given them both instructions to call you the instant they heard from the hospital, and had left to meet your date.

Jungkook had offered to go with, and it’s the first thing Jungkook’s said all day that Hoseok’s in full agreement with.

You’d rolled your eyes and gone out the door before either of them could stop you.

***

Hoseok’s trying to call you, but your phone keeps going to voicemail.

The fourth victim’s woken up, and she’s lucid enough to talk.

Jungkook glances at him as he signals to turn.

‘She’s not answering,’ Hoseok says.

Jungkook’s surprised. ‘She always answers.’

Hoseok’s got a prickling at the base of his neck.

Jungkook tosses his phone into Hoseok’s lap. ‘Maybe she’s screening your calls,’ he says, petty.

Hoseok gives him an exasperated look but tries using Jungkook’s phone anyway, pointedly ignoring the gym selfie he has as his wallpaper.

The kid’s cut, but that’s got nothing to do with anything right now.

Hoseok tries to keep the smugness out of his voice as he says, ‘No answer.’

‘She’s never not answered a call from me,’ Jungkook says.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at the pout in his voice.

The prickling’s getting stronger.

Jungkook pulls into the hospital car park.

‘Where did she say she was meeting him?’ Hoseok asks.

Jungkook’s back straightens at the note of urgency in Hoseok’s voice.

‘The diner near the park,’ he says.

Hoseok says, patiently, ‘What’s the name of the diner?’

Thinking about it, you fit the description of all the victims.

Down to being single.

Hoseok hopes to hell he’s wrong and it’s just that your phone’s out of battery, but he doesn’t think he is.

***

Hoseok’s out of the car before Jungkook comes to a complete stop. He scans the area, years of training kicking in, adrenaline pumping, heightening his senses.

He’s shouting, ‘Police’ before he even rounds the corner to the alley between the buildings, because he wants to be able to swear in a court of law that he announced himself before kicking the ever-loving shit out of the fucking asshole who’s on top of you.

‘Knife,’ you shout, and Hoseok takes a moment to be really damn glad that you’re alive, and conscious enough to warn him, before he’s disarming the man, shoving his face in the ground, arms behind his back.

Jungkook slaps handcuffs into his palm.

‘Check she’s all right,’ Hoseok grunts.

‘I had him,’ you grumble, before you pass out in Jungkook’s arms.

***

Hoseok props his phone up next to you so he has a reason for looking in your direction if you were to wake up suddenly, but he’s really just looking at your face.

You’re a little banged up, but you’re still the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while.

To be fair, he’s only seen junkies lately because Joan’s been a hard-ass about sending him to investigate meth labs in mountain towns, but still.

You’re beautiful.

Jungkook looks up from the selfie he’s just been taking.

‘Stop staring at her,’ he says.

‘Stop staring at yourself,’ Hoseok counters.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. His phone rings obnoxiously.

Hoseok glares at Jungkook as you stir.

‘Yes, auntie,’ Jungkook says, meek as he answers. ‘She’s fine. She’s in hospital but she can go as soon as she wakes up.’

He listens. ‘Yeah, the state detective is here too.’

Hoseok’s brow furrows, but before he can ask Jungkook to clarify, he realises you’re awake.

You’re looking quizzically at the phone propped on your chest.

Then you smile. ‘I knew I needed to worry about you,’ you say.

***

Hoseok manages to convince Jungkook to go out and bring back breakfast before you wake up the next morning.

He’s lying on his bed in your spare room, staring at the ceiling, thinking of all the paperwork he has to do, when you push the door open.

The bruises on your face are a little darker, but you’re still beautiful.

Hoseok thinks it’s encouraging that you’re just in a t-shirt.

He’s not sure if you’re wearing panties, but with the way you’re straddling him, thighs either side of his torso, he thinks he’s about to find out.

You put a hand on his chest, right over the scar from the stab wound he was dealt in a suburb outside Arashiyama.

Hoseok holds his breath as you trace over the pale furrow in his skin with your finger.

You’re looking at him.

Hoseok steadies you with a hand, and lifts his head to nip at your inner thigh with his teeth.

He curls both hands under your ass and pulls you forward so your core is right where he wants it.

Oh.

You’re not wearing panties, and Hoseok falls a little in love with you right there and then.

Your pussy looks so fucking juicy, right in front of his face.

Hoseok licks up into you, and you cry out his name.

He likes the sound of his name when it falls from your lips, the way you say it breathy, needy.

He kneads your ass as he licks up again. He slides a hand round to flick your clit, and suddenly you’re so wet he can feel it on his cheeks.

You’re not shy about rocking against his face, and Hoseok’s encouraged by how slick you are, how disinhibited your moaning is.

He wonder if he can get you to scream his name.

The thought gets him so hard.

He pinches your inner thigh, bites the softness of it, and you jerk.

Hoseok soothes you with a sloppy kiss over the bite, tongue swirling over the mark he’s made.

‘You’re mean in bed,’ you say, but you sound like you like it.

Hoseok squeezes your ass. ‘Get my dick wet so I can make you scream,’ he says.

You’re turning around, licking your way down his torso to the waistband of his borrowed sweats like a good girl.

You hum with pleasure as you pull his dick out, letting it slap against his abs. You slip a hand into his sweatpants, cupping his balls, and squeeze, so hard he almost yelps.

He definitely likes it.

You tongue the slit of his dick, swirling around his head, teasing.

Hoseok lifts his head to bury his face in your cunt, thumb pressing against your ass, hard.

You’re so wet you’re smeared all over his face now.

Hoseok hisses as you take him in. The angle’s not perfect, but he doesn’t give a fuck because he feels like he’s lodged so far down your throat he can feel you swallowing him down.

You pull back, and turn to look at him, saliva and his precum smeared over your lips, hair falling in your face.

Hoseok wants to see you covered in his cum, spurt it all over your pretty face, all over those tits that he’s neglected thus far but that he can’t wait to see.

‘Let me see you bounce on me,’ he says, voice coming out raspy because he’s so fucking turned on he can barely see.

You slip your t-shirt off, and your tits are as pretty as the rest of you.

You cup your breasts, flicking at your own nipples, and Hoseok already knows that however this ends, he’s going to try his damnedest to get you in bed again, because there are so many ways he needs to fuck you to make his life complete.

Hoseok nearly cums there and then when you hover just over him, and ask him, ‘where do you want to fuck me?’

‘Every fucking where,’ Hoseok replies, honest.

You give him a wicked half-smile and roll a condom over him, and sit down on his dick, which feels hard enough and hot enough that he’s worried he’s going to hurt you.

Your eyes are closed, and you sound like you’re enjoying his dick so fucking much that Hoseok pinches your nipple, hard.

You cry out, then your hips jerk, rocking back and forth and he realises you’re cumming, having an orgasm on his dick that you’ve only just put inside you.

Hoseok doesn’t tend to give a fuck where he is during sex. Top, bottom, upside down, he doesn’t give a shit.

The only reason he grabs your hips and turns you over, underneath him, is that based on how much you seem to be enjoying his dick, he’s pretty sure he can make you cum again.

Hoseok fucks into you, determined, rhythmic, changing his angle in response to your pretty moans, until you’re squeezing so tight around him he knows he’s nearly got you there.

You seem to like when he’s mean.

‘Hey,’ he says, hoarse, so close now he’s about to burst.

Your eyes fly open, and Hoseok pinches your clit, hard.

‘Fuck, Hoseok!’

Your scream as you cum again makes him spill so hard inside you it’s like an out of body experience.

Hoseok buries his face in your neck and floats until the ringing in his ears stops and the white behind his eyelids fades to black again.

***

By the time you both get downstairs, there’s cold coffee and croissants on the table and no sign of Jungkook.

Hoseok wanders in your living room whilst you heat up your coffees.

He rolls his eyes at a prominent portrait of Jungkook, a group photo featuring ‘Joonie’.

He stops dead at a photo of you with two people who look like your parents.

He yanks the frame off the wall and brings it into the kitchen with him.

‘Are these your parents?’ he asks.

You give him a funny look. ‘Yeah.’

‘Joan Kim is your mother?’ he asks, pointing with a shaky hand.

‘Assistant director Joan Kim is your mother?’ he asks again.

At your nod of affirmation, he lands on a dining table chair, feeling like his insides are collapsing.

You’re frowning at him.

‘Fuck me,’ you say, drawn out. ‘You’re Hobi?’

Hoseok feels faint.

‘Am I.’ His voice comes out croaky. ‘Am I going to get in trouble for fucking you in the ass?’

You look like you’re torn between amusement and horror.

‘Does my mother scare you that much?’ you ask.

‘She’s Joan fucking Kim,’ Hoseok splutters.

You shake your head, pitying. ‘Wait until you find out who my father is.’

Hoseok buries his face in his hands.

‘Who is he?’ he asks.

‘Kwon Ha Woon,’ you say, looking worried.

‘Supreme court justice Kwon Ha Woon?’ Hoseok practically shouts.

He gets up. ‘It was nice knowing you, Y/N.’

He makes it two steps out your front door before he’s turning around again.

You’re still sitting at the dining table, sipping your coffee.

There’s the faintest spark of mischief in your eyes when you see him.

‘On second thought,’ Hoseok tells you, pulling you into his arms, ‘I told myself that fucking you would make my life complete.’

‘It’s not the most romantic of propositions,’ you remark, letting him walk you backwards back up the stairs to your bedroom, ‘but I’ll take it.’

‘I’ll show you romance,’ Hoseok growls, pushing you back on the bed, climbing on top of you.

‘I’ll protect you from my parents,’ you promise, eyes bright.

From what Hoseok’s seen of you, he’s pretty sure you can.

©hamsterclaw 2022

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