Tasty Tryst (M)

Tasty Tryst (M)

Summary: Selling preserves at the local farmers’ market has its distractions when your vendor booth is placed next to the one belonging to the young strawberry farmer who’s been sweet on you for years.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 9,643

Warning: StrawberryFarmer!Taehyung, foodplay, sexual themes, profanity

Series: Working Man Bangtan

A/N: Just in time for strawberry season.

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Carnival Rides (M)

→ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

→ Genre: Fluff, smut, summer carnival AU

→ Word Count: 11.4k

→ Summary: Working at your parents’ funnel cake stand during the summer sounds like a decent enough gig. But you didn’t quite plan for the exhausting heat or the cute gelato guy who would make it his mission to get you to like him. Warning: This ride will get you wet!

→ What to Expect: car sex, a little bit of public indecency (again), unprotected sex (wear condoms pls), and bad puns

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Orectic (M)

Orectic (adj) - ‘of or concerning desire or appetite’ 

Pairing: Hoseok x hybrid!reader

Warnings: Gratuitous, tooth-rotting fluff.  Smut; kissing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, ?breeding kink if you squint hard enough.  

Word count: 21K

Thank you @yminie for my beautiful moodboard!

“It’ll just be for the week, and it isn’t like you guys haven’t spent any time together by yourselves before!”

It’d seemed like a harmless enough request when Jung Hoseok’s sister had first called him to request he come play sitter for the week; an opportunity to make some quick, easy cash during the winter months when attendance to the dance classes he taught inevitably started to wane.  

“C’mon, it’ll be fine!”

Sitting was probably the wrong word for it, anyway.  You weren’t so much a pet; his elder sibling had always been very firm on that matter from the very second she’d first brought you home. You were a companion, a confidant - a best friend who just so happened to be blessed with pointed feline ears, a sleek, silken tail, and a propensity for jumping three foot in the air whenever you turn around to find a well-placed snake-come-cucumber that Hobi may or may not have planted there a few minutes earlier.  

Yes, you may have a complete and utter dependence on your guardian to keep a roof over your head and food on the table, but that’s not your fault.  And it’s not as though his sister is wrong; the two of you do get on.  

Well… at least these days you do.  

When the two of you had first met over a year ago you’d been incredibly wary of him, to begin with; almost to the point where you’d visibly flinch whenever he dare address you or if he ever sat just that little bit too close.  Your history hadn’t been disclosed by the shelter when his sister had offered you a home, but it didn’t take a genius to take a guess as to why you might be so nervous at having an unfamiliar male in your home.  

While the practice has recently been made illegal, sexual exploitation remains a grotesque and unfortunate reality for all too many hybrids since they were created less than half a century ago, and it’s something you’ve remained resolutely silent about regardless of the gentle questioning Hoseok’s sister has put you through.  It breaks his heart to think that that might’ve been something that you’d had to face in the past, but if it was something you’d been subjected to, you sure as hell don’t seem about to admit it.  

So, without a legitimate excuse with which to refuse his sister’s pleading request, Hobi finds himself agreeing to keep you company for the coming week ahead.  It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other so he knows you’ll probably take a little while to warm up to him again, but that’s ok; he’s always been the patient sort.  There’s always the catnip he’s stashed in the bottom of his overnight bag, too, should the situation ever be so dire that it’s needed.

The journey to his sister’s place doesn’t take too long - half an hour, give or take - and along the way Hobi isn’t ignorant to the lift in his mood with every mile that passes.  He’ll never say it out loud, but ever since his old housemate Yoongi moved out (a convenience thing, rather than any ill-feeling between the two of them) the apartment has felt far too quiet.  It’ll be nice to have someone to spend some time with; something to break up the monotony of his ever-present thoughts.  

Index finger pressed firmly against your doorbell, Hobi’s narrow hips swing from side to side at the tinny salsa tune he hears coming from the other side of the door to signal his arrival.  There’s a bright smile on his face by the time his sister answers, and when he opens up his arms to her, pulling her into a tight hug, her answering smile is just as wide.  

“Jiwoooooo!” he gushes as the familiar scent of her hair floods into his nostrils.  She smells safe - she smells like home - and Hobi finds himself lamenting it having been so long since the last time he came around.  There’s really no excuse; not when she only lives over the other side of town. “Still just as pretty, I see,” he admires as he pulls away, patting her cheek, and as she grins back he bends to pick up the overnight bag he’d rested down by his feet, stepping over the threshold.  

“Ever the charmer, ‘Seok,” she replies with a fond roll of her eyes, pushing the front door closed behind him, “How’s that working out for you?  Lured any poor, unsuspecting women into your clutches lately?”  

“Not since Soo-In, I’m afraid.”  Hobi laughs gleefully at the expression of disgust that contorts his sister’s features at the mention of the night he’d managed to successfully seduce one of her friends - much to her horror at the time.  “I must’ve lost my edge.”  

Secretly, he’s worried that he might have.  He hasn’t slept with anyone at all since then, and six months is starting to feel like an awfully long time…

“We can but hope,” she snarks, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised as she snatches Hobi’s bag right out from his hand and deposits it at the bottom of the stairs before sweeping past him and into the living room.  She grabs a jacket hung on the back of one of her soft, crushed velvet armchairs (Hobi’s always thought they’re hideous, but then who is he to talk about good taste?) as she goes and promptly folds it into away her own suitcase, unzipped and hanging open upon her coffee table.

“So, New York, huh?  You excited?”  He watches her pack, stowing away all the last few essentials she’ll need for the trip she’s barely stopped talking about since she found out she was going just a short few weeks ago.  Folding his arms, he notes the time on his watch; she needs to leave soon, or she’ll be late for her flight.  Typical Jiwoo, always cutting it fine.  

“You have no idea,” she grins maniacally, pausing with her case half zipped up, one sleeve of something hanging out the side, “People are actually gonna see my designs, Hobi.  Finally!  Important people!”

“So I hear,” he smiles back, and underneath his crossed arms he feels his chest swell with emotion, “Proud of you, sis.”  

“I know.”  She stuffs the sleeve back in and hurriedly seals the case the rest of the way, patting it firmly once it’s done.  “Maybe when I’m a famous fashionista you might actually listen to some of my tips.  God knows you need them.”  

This time it’s Hobi’s turn to fondly roll his eyes.

“Anyway, the fridge and freezer are fully stocked, all you gotta do is get stuff out in the morning to defrost and try to make it through the week without giving yourself food poisoning.”  She hauls her case off of the table with a groan and it thuds heavily on the hardwood floor as she sets it down.  He dreads to think how much she’s paid for the extra luggage allowance… “There’s plenty of fish, plenty of lacto-free milk - but you don’t need to worry about that.”  

Nodding, Hobi unfolds his arms and takes a glance around the room at the mention of your rather specific dietary needs.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’s not noticed you when entering a room; sometimes you sit so silent and still that it’s almost as though you’re not really there until you chose to reveal yourself.  He swears you do it on purpose, actually, just to watch him jump and shriek when you suddenly appear, an amused little smile tugging at your lips as he clutches his chest in fear.  

“Speaking of; where is my ward?”

“Kitchen,” she replies shortly, exhaling a sigh, “She’s busy doing that whole ‘cold shoulder’ thing she always does whenever she knows I’m going away.”  

“Oh.”  Taking a few steps forward, Hobi’s able to lean forward to peer round the door to the kitchen which stands slightly ajar, and through the gap he can just about make out your stiff form sat at the kitchen table, back straight and pen in hand.  

“Ah, she’ll be fine,” his sister dismisses with a wave of her hand, and as her hand passes her face Hobi notices her eyes suddenly widen as she catches a glimpse at the time.  “Hooo shit.  Will you shove this in the car for me while I say bye?  ThankyouIloveyou,” she gushes, thrusting her suitcase towards him, and like the obliging younger brother he is Hobi does as she asks, lugging her case out onto the drive and stowing it away in the ridiculously small trunk of her equally ridiculous car with an exaggerated groan.  

By the time he finds his way back inside and into the kitchen, his sister’s whole torso is wrapped around you from behind, your face almost entirely obscured by the blanket of long, black hair that surrounds you.  

“Gonna miss you,” he hears Jiwoo say, squeezing you in her grasp as Hobi watches you attempt to huff her hair out from your face in a series of heavy, exasperated exhales.  

“You better,” comes your snarky reply, and after a moment more your pen is begrudgingly laid down and you’re squeezing his sister’s forearm as you quietly insist that she fly safely.  When Jiwoo releases you, standing straight, Hobi’s is both surprised and oddly moved by the glassiness he sees in your eyes when they dart his way, your lips parting, embarrassed at being seen in such a way.  He wishes that your spine didn’t stiffen again so suddenly on seeing him, or that your tail didn’t immediately increase in size where it hanging through the slats of the kitchen chair on which you sit, glossy fur standing up on end.  

It’s only a temporary reaction - he knows that - but it still kinda hurts.  

“Hey kitkat,” he smiles, raising one hand in a lame, gentle wave that you slowly return, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you nervously look him up and down with eyes that are just a tiny bit too large for your face.  He’s been calling you by that nickname for almost as long as he’s known you, and though you’d initially bristled on hearing it, Hobi couldn’t help but notice over time that a light blush that had started to colour your cheeks whenever he’d say it; a sweet little glimpse at the softness that lays underneath your somewhat frosty exterior.  

“Hello Hoseok,” you answer softly, and oh, Hobi had forgotten the way the hairs on the back of his neck always stand up whenever you say it that way.  You’re the only person in his life who ever, ever addresses him by his full name, and if he’s honest with himself, he’d happily keep it that way if he could.  

Neither of you says anything then, after that, and in the seconds that follow Hoseok’s sister looks back and forth between the two of you, curiously chewing her bottom lip“Well,” she announces to break the silence, walking from the space she’d occupied behind you to approach Hobi instead, her arms held open wide in invitation to a parting hug, “I’ll just leave you two chatterboxes to it, shall I?”  

“Love you,” he mumbles into his sister’s hair, embracing her with all the strength he can muster.  He may be the younger sibling, but he’s always been fiercely protective of his big sister, and he has a sneaking suspicion that no matter how old they get that’ll always remain the same.  “Have fun, alright?”  

“Oh you bet your ass I will,” Jiwoo grins as she extracts herself from his arms.  She looks between Hobi and you, frowning slightly when she sees the way you’re shyly staring down at the crossword puzzle you’ve been working on for the majority of the morning rather than at her brother stood opposite, a pen in your hand and your pointed ears flicking anxiously this way and that.  “You two will be ok, right?” she checks, and Hobi gives her his best, most reassuring smile.  

“Course we will,” he enthuses, directing all the positivity he can muster your way and smiling even more broadly when you meekly return it, tail swishing gently behind you from side to side, “Right, kitkat?”

“Sure.  Right.”  

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160907 · JHOPE

about last night (m)

prologue

⇒pairing: jimin x reader

⇒genre: enemies to lovers | explicit smut, fluff and angst

⇒length: 15k

⇒summary: you had promised yourself; if you were to ever hook up with that asshole park jimin, it would be just a one night stand.

a/n: dis was a monster to write im so tired. i stayed up until 12pm to finish this and now its finally done :) also how does every new fic i write get dirtier and dirtier?? idk. 

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no obstacle can stop him