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Pillow Talk (Jung Hoseok, One-Shot, Smut)

Disclaimers: I don’t own the image I used for my header 😁 I do own the edit of the header.

A Note from Kutemouse: Basically I need to drink some Hobi water and take a freezing cold shower after writing this. This is an idea that’s been living rent-free in my head for a while. Welp, time for it to pay up 😂

(Basically Unedited)

Rating: R (18+ only)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Holy shiz, okay, here we go… Mutual masturbation, awkward conversations in the nude, oral (female receiving), hickies, biting, Y/n is the softest dom and Hoseok is her sweet baby boy, making out described in exquisite detail, I use sexual words and swears.

Word Count: There are words

Master List

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Pillow Talk (Jung Hoseok, One-Shot, Smut)

You unlocked the door, bobbing to the beat resonating in your headphones, before heading inside your apartment. You tossed your bag on a chair and opened the fridge. Empty. Fuck. Oh well. You grabbed a bottle of water and took a few gulps, sashaying your hips as your favorite song played.

“Smooth like butter,” you sang under your breath, opening a few cupboards. Also empty. Damn. Take-out for dinner tonight for sure.

It was then you heard it. A noise so strange you whipped off your headphones just to make sure it was real. You froze, still on your tiptoes, listening hard. There it was again. It sounded like… like some type of mewling.

“Hobi?” you asked the empty room tentatively. Jung Hoseok was your roommate that you had lived with for the past two years, but you’d never heard that kind of sound from him.

You quietly grabbed a steak knife from a drawer and crept down the hall, intent on catching the intruder. You followed the sound, which seemed to be coming from your room. The door was barely cracked, but you could see someone moving around. When you finally got close enough to peer inside, you gasped, slapped your hand over your mouth, and dropped the knife. Luckily, it fell on the thick carpet, muffling any sound it would have made otherwise.

None other than your roommate and best friend, Jung Hoseok, was straddling one of your expensive, memory-foam pillows, stark naked from head to toe. His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as he slid his hard length along the fabric of your purple pillowcase over and over, moaning loudly. The longer side of your bed faced the doorway, so you had a full view of the show. You raked your gaze down Hoseok’s beautiful body, his golden skin dewy with sweat, his abs contracting as his hips rutted against your pillow. Your eyes finally wandered down to his cock, and you felt your core clench. It was the most gorgeous cock you had ever seen. Long, thick, and slightly curved, just the sight of it made your mouth water.

“Oh god, Y/n,” Hoseok murmured. “That feels so good.”

You had to stifle another gasp. He was thinking of you while he did this? You sidled up to the door as close as you dared, glad he hadn’t heard you. Then again, he was moaning pretty loud. Is this what he did when you were out and about? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t supposed to be home for another hour. You were covering for a coworker, and your boss had offered to let you go home early as a thank-you for volunteering to help out.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Hoseok’s moans getting higher in pitch as he neared his climax. Oh god. He was so gorgeous, with those pretty noises spilling from his cherry-red lips, matching his flushed cheeks. And that cock… With a weeping tip and prominent veins, you didn’t know how you were going to stop thinking about it. You bit your lip, tugging at the edge of your skirt as you rubbed your thighs together. You never imagined you could get so turned on at the sight of your best friend humping your pillow.

Hoseok sped up his pace, rubbing his beautiful cock over every inch of that pillow, his moans getting louder and louder. “Yes, Y/n, just like that, don’t stop,” he whined.

Fuck. Without any more hesitation, you slid your fingers down the waistband of your skirt, moving the fabric of your panties aside to rub the pad of your middle finger along your moist folds. Hoseok’s hips stuttered as he got closer and closer to orgasm, his moans coming out more like gasps. You rubbed your clit in time with his hips, faster and faster until you were sure you were going to orgasm right there in the hallway.

“Y/n, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Hoseok groaned lowly just before white spurted all over your pillowcase, spreading like creamy icing over a hot cinnamon roll. If you were wet before, you were positively soaked now. Hoseok fell back onto your bed, panting. You quickly stepped away from the door, afraid he would see you peeping at him, or worse, see the hand you still had down your panties. You pressed your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing as your impending orgasm slipped away.

You heard rustling noises then footsteps heading toward you, and before you could move, Hoseok opened the door, still completely naked, holding your cum-stained pillow over his crotch. His eyes were on the ground, so you had a second to compose yourself before stepping in front of him. “Hi Hobi.”

You had never seen him jump so hard. “Y/n!” he yelped. “Wh-What are you doing here?!”

“I live here.”

You glanced down Hoseok’s body, his hand clutching the pillow so tight you could see the white of his knuckles. “Whatcha doing, roomie?”

“I was just… just…”

You crossed your arms. “Arranging my pillows for me?”

Hoseok’s eyes darted from side to side. “Uh… yes?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “In the nude?”

“I-I-I was j-just-”

“Save it.”

You reached over and tugged the pillow away from him, clicking your tongue at the wet stains littering the fabric. “Hobi, do you know how much these pillows cost? Not to mention my 800 thread count Egyptian cotton pillowcases!”

Hoseok stared at you in shock, covering his cock with his hands. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n, I was just on my way to washing it-”

“Wash it? Oh baby, you’ll clean more than just my pillowcase,” you said, your voice dangerously low.

You stepped toward him, smirking when he blushed deeply at your close proximity to his naked body. You gently removed his hands and began to stroke his softening length, standing on your tiptoes and putting your lips to his ear. “You’re going to also clean up the mess you made in my panties,” you whispered, relishing in the way he shivered as your breath fanned over his skin. “With your tongue.”

Hoseok gulped before nodding. “O-Okay.”

You crashed your lips into his, shoving your tongue down his cavern, completely dominating his mouth with yours. You hungrily devoured his soft, red lips, enjoying the way he moaned when you bit down on his bottom lip and gently sucked on it. Hoseok slid his palms towards your ass, massaging it roughly before you slapped his hands away. “No, no, no,” you teased, beckoning him into your room with a finger. “No touching until you’ve made me cum with that tongue of yours. You already got to cum, so it’s only fair.”

Hoseok grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his dark, mussed hair. “Yeah, about that…”

You clicked your tongue. “Later. I need you to eat me out, now.”

You lay back on the bed, giving Hoseok plenty to look at as you slid your panties down your thighs, using your foot to toss them elsewhere. “Holy fucking shit,” he murmured, kneeling on the ground in front of you. He didn’t dare touch, just stared at your pussy like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Hands behind your back,” you commanded, glee zipping through you when he obeyed without question.

Hoseok leaned in, leaving wet kisses along the insides of your thighs, working his way up to your core. Your muscles were already trembling from the anticipation, but nevertheless, you stayed propped up on your elbows so you could see every bit of the action. Finally, he licked a long strip up your center, causing you to let out a loud groan.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” you hissed.

He did it over and over again, his tongue dragging from your perineum to your clit, like he was trying to memorize your taste. Without warning, he shoved his tongue inside of you then withdrew it, flicking it back in and out of your pussy, fucking you in a way you’d never been fucked before. “Oh god, Hobi,” you moaned, grabbing a fistful of his silky hair. “More, more, please more.”

You felt him smirk against your folds before he put that tongue back to work, dragging it over your clit before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, hard. “Fuck!” you cried out. “Hoseok, I’m gonna… I’m gonna, fuck!”

He finished his assault on your clit and went back to tongue-fucking you, lapping up the gush from your orgasm, not letting a drop go to waste.

You tugged on his hair, dragging him up to face you before you rewarded him with kisses, tasting yourself as you sucked on his gorgeous tongue.

You felt Hoseok’s hard length against your thighs, but he didn’t dare try anything without your permission. “Hobi,” you murmured, staring deeply into his dark eyes. “Fuck me.”

He wasted no time in unbuttoning your blouse, leaving deep purple hickies along your cleavage as he fumbled with the clasp on your bra. “Awww, baby having trouble?” you giggled, undoing it for him.

Hoseok blushed, shyly turning away from your exposed chest. “It’s okay,” you murmured as you unzipped your skirt and slid it off your body. “You can look at me.”

He took a deep breath before turning toward you, his mouth falling open at the sight of your naked form. You smirked, straddling him. “Your cock is so pretty,” you moaned as you felt his tip prod your entrance.

Hoseok held back a groan, biting down on his bottom lip. You slowly took him inside of you, relishing in the stretch, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. “Oh my god, Hobi,” you whimpered. “If I’d known what you had hidden down here, I would’ve tried to get in your pants forever ago.”

You began to move, slowly sliding up his cock until it was almost out before sliding back down it again. Hoseok moved with you, fucking up into you, making you gasp. Oh yeah. You were gonna be sore tomorrow. You increased your pace, slapping sounds filling the air. You could tell Hoseok was holding back, trying not to get too turned on, biting back his moans as best he could.

“C’mon baby, I wanna hear you,” you said, trying to encourage him to let go.

“Can’t,” he grunted. “I’ll cum.”

At that, you increased your pace even more. “You better not,” you teased, panting. “You’ve gotta satisfy me first.”

You took him as deep as you possibly could before circling your hips, savoring the way his cock felt inside of you. Hoseok kneaded the flesh of your ass, biting down on your shoulder. “Fuck Y/n,” he murmured, soothing the bites with wet kisses. “You’re better than I imagined.”

Motivated by his praise, you kissed him, hard, before bouncing up and down on his cock once more. Hoseok gripped your ass, helping you move as your muscles began to tremble. His dick was hitting all the right spots, the curve of his shaft rubbing perfectly against your g-spot. “Hobi, I think I’m going to-” you moaned, but you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washed over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

You moaned loudly, one hand wound in his soft, dark hair, the other pulling his torso flush against yours as you rode out your orgasm. But you weren’t done yet. Determined to make Hosoek feel as good as you did, you began to move your hips once more, your ass jiggling as you rode him.

“Fuck, Y/n!” he cried out. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up.”

You tugged on his earlobe with your teeth. “That’s the point,” you panted. “Cum for me, baby.”

His moans got higher in pitch and louder, and you knew it was time. Just before he came, you hopped off him and shoved his beautiful cock down your throat, swallowing down every bit of his orgasm. Glee zipped through you, giving you goosebumps, at the sight of his shaking thighs. “Holy shit, that was amazing,” he panted, flopping back on your bed.

“Holy shit, indeed,” you agreed, laying down and snuggling up to him.

He wrapped an arm around you and drew you close. The two of you stayed like that for a long while, almost falling asleep, before you asked the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. “So… how long have you been befouling my poor pillows?”

Hoseok chuckled nervously. “Bout a month now.”

You sat up. “A whole month?!”

“Uh… yes. Since the party at Namjoon’s.”

You pursed your lips. “What changed? You’ve never shown any signs of wanting me before.”

“You did,” Hoseok said, sitting up as well and touching his nose to yours. “Remember when we played ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven?’”

You rubbed your forehead. “Not really. I had a lot to drink that night.”

“Oh, well… you got paired up with me, and when we got inside the bedroom, w-we made out.”

“I vaguely remember this,” you said, frowning. “But was it really so good, it made you want me?”

“I already kind of wanted you,” Hoseok admitted. “We’ve lived together for two years now, so I’ve caught glimpses into your sex life. A thong here, a flash of your ass there. But it wasn’t until then that I realized just how much I wanted to fuck you.”

Hoseok rolled over you, nudging your legs apart with a thigh. “And then some.”

“So… you wanted to fuck me so badly, you came in here and defiled my pillows instead?”

A smile tugged one side of his mouth upward. “Something like that. At first, it was just me jerking off to the thought of you, but then I began to want more. And your pillows? They smell like you. They were the next best thing to having the real you.”

Warmth coursed through your veins at his words. You rolled over, taking him with you, until you were straddling him once more. “That’s hot,” you murmured, kissing him sensually.

You pulled away from him abruptly, making his eyes flutter open. “But Hobi?” you said. “If you feel the need to hump something that smells like me again, just come find me. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

Hoseok smirked. “I look forward to it.”

I Missed You

Disclaimers: I don’t own the gift I used for my header 😁 Creator is credited.

Original Request: “Hi there! A request. Maybe you will do or maybe you wont' but still, can you do a imagine where hobi is a sugar daddy, and he spoils the reader annd you know what happens next😅”

A Note from Kutemouse: Well hello there kutie pie! You’re the first requester I’ve had in so long, thank you so much for sending this in! When I read your request, my first thought was, “Oh hell yes.” I’ve been feeling Hobi lately (hence “Pillow Talk” 😂), but I haven’t written a dom Hoseok fic yet. Thank you, dear kutie, for allowing me to write this. It was honestly such a pleasure.

Btw, doesn’t this amazing gif SCREAM daddy Hoseok? 🥵

(Like half of this is unedited)

Rating: R (18+ only)

Genre: Smutty Smut

Warnings: Sugar daddy Hoseok, sugar baby Y/n, a shit ton of making out described in detail, sexual descriptions and words, oral (m receiving), Daddy/Baby Girl relationship and kink, Hobi softly collars Y/n, dom Hoseok (f*ck yes), swears to the max, bit o’ fluff.

Word Count: There are words.

Master List

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I Missed You (Jung Hoseok, One-Shot, Smut)

Jung Hoseok sighed as he unlocked the door to your apartment. It had been a long few weeks, full of non-stop travel, interviews, photoshoots, and of course, live performances. Now that the pandemic seemed to be ebbing, BTS’ schedule was busier than ever. But this weekend? This weekend would be dedicated to you.

He hadn’t seen you in nearly a month, and except for the occasional text and video chat, you seemed to be keeping busy as well. You joined a pilates class and threw yourself into doing well at university. Your last paper had received resounding praise from your professor, thanks to the hours of research you had poured into it. The truth was, you were keeping yourself occupied so you wouldn’t have time to miss, or even think about, Hobi.

The arrangement the two of you had was unique, that was for sure. Hoseok knew he barely had any time to date, along with the fact that he was constantly in the public eye, and the last thing he wanted was to have to sneak around and subject his partner to possible hate and humiliation. With that mindset, Hoseok kept his eye out for a girl who he could share a few days here and there with, who wouldn’t mind hardly ever seeing him, and who wouldn’t need the type of commitment he knew he could never give.

The pandemic allowed Hoseok to easily go out without being recognized, and one morning he donned a mask and baseball cap to pick up coffee at the cafe down the block. You were nearly at the end of your first shift on the job, thank god. A number of wealthy snobs lived around the area and were extremely particular about their order and service, plus you still had your second job to get to.

You caught Hoseok’s eye the second he walked in. “Hi there, welcome,” you greeted, turning from a table you were wiping down. “What can I get you?”

For Hoseok, there was no going back after that. He visited the cafe as often as he could, always in disguise and always hoping for a brief conversation with you. He enjoyed the way your soft, pink lips would turn up in a small smile whenever you saw him and the way your cheeks flushed whenever he flirted with you. If only he could get you alone.

He finally got his chance. You were taking the trash out to the dumpster behind the building when he approached you. You felt like a mess, what with coffee stains littering the front of your apron and your hair falling out of its bun, but he would’ve taken you right then and there if he could. “Hi Y/n,” he said, lowering his mask to reveal himself at last. You started. “O-Oh! Hey there! Um, this is actually the back entrance, but if you come in through the front, I’ll start on your order right-”

“I wanted to speak to you, actually,” he said.

You stood there, holding onto the garbage bags like they were your lifeline, a flush already creeping up your cheeks. “A-About what?” you stammered, nervous in the presence of such a handsome guy.

“I know this may seem strange, but I’d like to take you on a date. It can’t be anywhere public, though. Would you be willing to meet me at this address?” He lifted the strap of your apron and slid a business card underneath it, staring deeply into your eyes as he bit down on his bottom lip.

Your face was so red it might as well have been on fire. “A d-date? With me?”

Hoseok nodded. “My phone number is also on that card. Text me if you can’t make it. Wear something nice. See you at eight.”

Without giving you any time to protest, he spun on his heel and left. Later that day, the latest BTS song, “Life Goes On,” played over your cafe’s radio. As Hoseok’s heart-warming, mellow voice came through the speakers, you dropped the mug you were holding, ceramic shards flying everywhere. Your coworker asked if you were okay but you couldn’t answer. You couldn’t tell her you’d been asked out on a private date with Jung Hoseok, and you hadn’t even recognized who he was until that moment.

You showed up for your date much too early, wearing a halter-neckline peach-colored dress underneath a black coat. It turned out the address was in a large, ornate apartment building. You had to get through a gate where a security officer checked your ID to make sure it matched a name on a list, as well as be issued a visitor’s keycard that would allow you access to the elevator for one night only. You knocked softly on the door, pulling down your mask so you could be recognized through the peephole. Hoseok opened the door, wearing a custom-tailored suit jacket over a white shirt, the top few buttons undone to show off his caramel-toned skin.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as he slipped off your coat, admiring the soft skin of your shoulders. He couldn’t wait to taste it.

The date went well. Hoseok had ordered the most exquisite food and a few bottles of wine. After a glass, you loosened up a bit. You had questions, of course. Hoseok answered them all before presenting the idea that had been filling his head since he first laid eyes on you. He said that he wanted the two of you to keep seeing each other but with conditions. You would move to this apartment, only mere minutes away from the apartment complex BTS lived in, and Hoseok would pay all your living expenses. He knew the reason you worked two jobs was to try and save up to go to university, but if you agreed to the arrangement, he’d pay your tuition and fees in full. The only thing he asked in return is that you would essentially be his girlfriend whenever he was in town, providing him a respite from being one of the world’s biggest pop stars. You’d have to sign an NDA contract, of course, but other than that, you were free to come and go as you pleased, free to pursue whatever course of study you wanted at university, and free to live your life without worrying about money.

You could hardly speak after all that, let alone provide him with an answer. He’d pay for everything? Everything? And all you had to do is act the devoted girlfriend whenever he happened to have time off? But Hoseok was clear. This wouldn’t be a typical relationship. He’d be gone for weeks, if not months, at a time, and he’d only have a few days a year to spend with you. You couldn’t get clingy or demand more from him, otherwise, he’d cut ties and let you go. He didn’t have time for arguments or drama.

After a couple days went by with nothing else on your mind, you texted him to tell him you concurred with the arrangement. After all, you really wanted to go to university and study medicine. A medical student’s schedule was extremely busy, so you wouldn’t have time for love anyway. The two of you seemed meant to be.

A year went by without incident, but you found with each visit, you began to miss Hoseok more and more. You missed talking to him, missed his contagious laughter, his bright smile, his jokes. You missed the nights spent tangled up in the sheets, his heated kisses, and the marks he left all over your body. And he, in return, began to miss you as well. He chose to show his affection with gifts, however, trying to hide how he really felt behind showering you with designer clothing and accessories.

This time, he showed up with a bouquet of purple tulips, your favorite, and a scarlet velvet box. “Y/n?” Hoseok called out.

“In here!”

He stepped into the kitchen, where you were stirring a pot over the stove. You wore a white apron over your blouse and skirt, your hair held up in a clip as you cooked. It was enough to ramp up the needy desire for you Hoseok had been feeling into overdrive. He wrapped his arms around you, hands sliding up to grope your breasts, grinding his hips against your backside. “Baby girl,” he murmured against your skin as he nuzzled your neck, taking the clip out of your hair and letting it fall down your back. He began to leave hungry, wet kisses along your jaw.

You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed. “H-Hobi, wait, I’m in the middle of making dinner.”

Even as the sentence came out of your mouth, you knew your protest was only half-hearted. Truth was, you couldn’t wait to get him in bed.

“Let it simmer,” Hoseok growled, reaching over the stove to turn down the heat. “And give me what I’m really hungry for.”

You turned, eyes wide. “Wh-What are you hungry for?”

He smirked. “You.”

Hoseok lifted you on the counter, his palms sliding up your skirt and teasing the edge of your thigh-high stockings as he eagerly devoured your lips. You allowed him to dominate your mouth, moaning as his tongue twirled around yours.

He separated from you, leaving you with eyes closed and breathless, before slowly peeling off each of your stockings, trailing kisses along your inner thighs as he did so. With a sly grin, he sat in one of the kitchen chairs, spreading his legs apart to show off how hard you made him. “Daddy’s had a long week, baby girl,” he murmured. “Why don’t you come over here and make me feel better?”

His words had you slipping off the counter to your knees, crawling eagerly towards him until you got close enough to undo his belt buckle and lower his zipper. Eyes locked on his, you took out his rock-hard length, your mouth watering at the sight. It was, to this day, the most gorgeous cock you had ever seen. Long, thick, with a perfect curve that served to hit all the right spots inside of you, it was safe to say you were addicted.

You licked a long strip up to the soft skin of the head, which you sucked gently like it was the most delectable lollipop. Hoseok hissed in appreciation, his fingertips scraping along your scalp until he gathered your hair in a fist and shoved his cock fully in your mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned, holding himself deep down your throat as you swallowed around him.

Hoseok didn’t let you breathe until you tapped his thigh, causing him to slide his cock out of your mouth all at once before shoving it in again. You let him fuck your mouth, grunting as he set a brutal pace. Occasionally, he let out a moan that sent heat straight down to your core, finding pleasure in his gratification.

He withdrew his cock from your mouth for the last time, panting as you coughed and sputtered. He took a napkin and bent down, gently wiping your mouth and cheeks until the only evidence of your debauchery left was the flush of your skin. “I have a gift for you,” he said, helping you stand.

“You do?”

“Mmhmm.”

Hoseok took your hand and led you down the hall until you both stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bathroom. He drew the velvet box from his pocket, smiling as you gasped. “Oh, Hobi, you didn’t have to.”

“Hush,” he said, stepping behind you.

This gift, unlike his others, was simple yet expensive. It was a gold necklace with a thin chain and a small, emerald-encrusted pendant that read, “Hoseok” in gold lettering.

He put it around your neck, smoothing your hair out of the way. “Do you like it?”

“I actually love it,” you said, touching the pendant in disbelief. “But you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Hoseok met your eyes in the mirror. “This will remind you of me when I’m gone. It even has my favorite color gemstone. Green, the color of hope.”

You smiled. “I noticed.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll wait in the bedroom. I want you wearing nothing but the necklace.”

You nodded, shivers running down your spine. He left you to undress as he also undressed, tossing his clothes in a corner and stroking himself as he sat on the bed to wait. You came in shortly, completely naked except for the necklace as told. Hoseok grasped your hips and yanked you close, twirling his tongue around each of your nipples as you gasped, running your fingers through his dark, silky hair. He nipped at the flesh of your breasts, occasionally sucking and leaving deep purple marks. “Turn around,” he ordered softly.

You obeyed, presenting your ass to him. He sat you on his lap and spread your thighs apart before taking his middle finger and stroking your clit. You shuddered, gasping as he continued his ministrations, relishing in how wet you were for him. “You’re always so ready for Daddy, aren’t you baby girl?”

You nodded, leaning back into Hoseok’s chest as he sped up his pace. He dipped his finger inside of you and circled it around, the pad of his palm pressing against your clit. “Oh god,” you gasped, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer.

Without warning, Hoseok began to rub your clit again with the tips of his fingers, circling your sweet spot faster and faster until you were squirming in his hold. “D-Daddy, I’m going to-”

“Cum baby girl, c’mon, soak these fingers,” he growled.

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you and drowned you in pleasure, cum squirting out all over Hoseok’s fingers and his lap. He didn’t let up, continuing to rub your clit until you grabbed his hand, begging him to stop due to the overstimulation.

You whined when he took his fingers away, the open air flowing over your wet pussy making you shiver. Hoseok turned you around and licked his fingers, the sight of his lips wrapped around each digit driving you crazy. He kissed you then, letting you taste the sweetness of your pussy.

He maneuvered you onto the bed and grasped your hips once more, lifting them until they were level with his cock. “Ready, baby girl?” he asked, pressing a palm in the middle of your back.

You nodded. “Please Daddy, please fuck me.”

Hoseok growled. “I fucking love it when you beg.”

He shoved his cock into your dripping pussy, stretching you out until you didn’t think you could take any more. A whole year of getting fucked by Hoseok and you still could barely take the full length of his dick. He slid almost all the way out of you before shoving himself back in and repeating the action, causing your entire body to tremble with the force of his thrusts. Your legs buckled and began to slide down the sheets until you were practically lying on your stomach, which was just fine with Hoseok as he leaned over you and rammed himself into you even deeper than before.

You moaned into the mattress, grabbing at the sheets until your knuckles turned white, trying to keep yourself grounded as Hoseok fucked you so hard you saw white spots at the edges of your vision. His grunts got louder and higher in pitch, and you knew he was getting close. Just the thought of him painting your insides with his cum had you on the edge, crying out as he hit your g-spot.

“Cum for me baby, squeeze that pussy around my cock,” Hoseok panted, feeling you beginning to contract.

You moaned loudly. “Right there, Daddy, right there, oh my god, I’m gonna-” Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, causing your eyes to roll back in your head, your mouth parted open as your breath stopped, every muscle in your pussy constricting around Hoseok’s beautiful cock.

He couldn’t take it anymore and thrust into you one last time, shooting load after load into your tight hole with a loud groan. He lifted you up as his cock softened inside of you, pulling your sweaty back against his torso, rubbing your stomach affectionately. You rolled your head to the side to capture his lips in a kiss, pushing and pulling at lips with yours. “God, I missed you,” you murmured.

Hoseok tensed. Shit. You weren’t supposed to let him know you felt attached to him and missed him when he was gone. That was the type of commitment he swore he didn’t want in this relationship.

“I mean, I missed this,” you said, backtracking. The way his eyebrows were furrowed worried you.

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling out of you and going inside the bathroom.

Damn it. You lay down, rubbing a hand over your forehead. Why the hell did you say that?

Hoseok came back with a washcloth and wiped down your body, erasing the mess he made from your body. He caught sight of the necklace bearing his name and smirked before laying down beside you, cuddling your body close.

“Hey,” he murmured, causing you to look up at him into those dark, sparkling eyes. One corner of his mouth turned up. “I missed you too.”

Warmth flooded your chest and you snuggled into his side. You didn’t know if he had feelings for you, and you didn’t know if you had feelings for him, but you did know that he cared about you enough to miss you, and that, for now, was enough.

🤌🏻

The Wood | JHS | (m)

❀ Pairing: witch!Hoseok x female reader

❀ Summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

❀ Word Count: 16,786

❀ Genre: supernatural, psychological thriller, southern-gothic

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Creepy town vibes somewhere in the south, unreliable narrator because she’s a dumb bitch, missing family member, descriptions of nightmares and night terrors, allusions to toxic citizens and intolerance in the southern US, cryptic exchanges, being attacked and choked by a strange entity, sleep paralysis, depictions of anxiety and panic and deep fear, manipulation, cat Yoongi.... sort of, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight hand job, a lot of spit and cum, fucking in a nasty ass motel room, mean Hoseok at the end, I don't know why I reference frogs so much please forgive me, ambiguous ending/unexplained ending, implied death of a side character off-screen

❀ Published: May 29, 2022

❀ A/N: Not only is this absolutely a million weeks late, it also is the longest it has ever - and I mean ever - taken me to write a fic. This was so hard for me to write, and I have deleted anad re-written thousands of words for this. The end result is something that I absolutely did not plan. This fic is ENTIRELY different from the original outline and idea, so at times it might seem where this piece doesn’t know where it’s going because it wasn’t until I got to the end of the smut scene last night that I realized what the hell this story needed. 

I want to thank @here2bbtstrash because I could not have written this fic without them, but also for the amazing and thorough beta they gave this. This was one of my choppier/messier pieces and they helped fix this so much and I have giant feelings for M that are very normal. Also a special thank you to @gimmethatagustd for keeping me somewhat sane while really struggling with this piece.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | To Love A Monster Collab | Song Inspiration |

Only God can save us! 

It’s probably the tenth sign of the like that you’ve seen. Your palms feel sweaty on the wheel, the unsettling feeling in your stomach as you drive through God’s Country increasing. For some reason, as you catch glimpses of old abandoned churches at the end of red dirt roads and leaning fruit stands with no seller in sight, you think that perhaps God has forsaken this place. 

The drive has been unremarkable, but the closer you get to Kill Devil you think perhaps the town is aptly named. You can’t help but get the sense - especially when you stop at a gas station with no one inside and a single working pump - that there is a reason the town sports such a unique title. 

It’s hard to imagine why your sister would ever move here, even temporarily. Outside, the locusts whine, a high-pitched buzzsaw hidden in the boughs draped with Spanish moss. The paint on the road has long since faded, single lanes stretching North to South in an endless strip. 

Sticky heat prickles your skin. Though there’s no one else around save for you and the locusts, you can’t help but look around nervously, eyes scouring the oak trees. The door to the gas station is locked, and the other side of your single-station pump has a red bag on the handle. 

The sk sk sk of the pump is a slow heartbeat. Pulling out your phone while you wait, your stomach flips when you see that you have very little service. You’re about thirty minutes away from Kill Devil and an hour away from any major cities. Peppered along the map are small towns like Kill Devil, home to pecan farms, corn fields, and cotton gins. 

You feel a long way from home.

A tingle slides down the back of your neck. You look up from your phone, gaze sweeping back and forth through the trees and over the cracked pavement of the station. There’s nothing else there, but you have the sense that the trees have eyes. 

The pump clicks loudly and your heart lurches, hand flying to your chest as you shriek and turn. For a few moments, your heart beats so loudly in your ears you can’t hear the chirping of the locusts or your ragged breathing as you close your eyes, trying to level out your moment of panic. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, pulling the handle and jiggling it lightly to ensure any dripping gas is shaken off. 

Naturally, you’re a pretty calm person. The jumpiness belongs to your mother, who screams every time someone turns a corner in the house unexpectedly. It’s something about the feeling that clings to you like a second skin as you get in the car that has you shaken. 

Or it’s the fact that your sister has been missing for two months. 

On instinct, your hand goes to the necklace around your throat. It’s a heart-shaped locket, which would seem cheesy to anyone else. But for you, it’s one of the few coveted items you have from her.

It’s also something that you swear burned you in the middle of the night two months ago. You’re not sure if you believe in spiritual intuition or connection between family members, but what you do know is that you haven’t heard from her, and the local police have been no help. 

Trust your gut. That’s what she’s always said. And you do trust your gut on this, this knowing that something is wrong. 

On the road again, your tension continues to increase. The land has turned to steep up and down hills, pines lined on either side of the road, pocked with deep canyons.

Orange tire tracks appear and disappear on the highway, turning off onto clay roads with washed-out shoulders and deep ruts from all of the rain over the summer. Your sister had mentioned the house she was renting was nearly impossible to get to when the rain was bad.

A green sign that says Kill Devil City Limits passes by. No welcome sign, no little plaque announcing the population. Your music skips in and out, the connection to your phone weak. You switch to FM, flinching at the roaring static that comes through, finger jamming on the arrows to skip through to something passable.

Country. Country. Church. Country. Rock. Pop. 

You leave it on the pop station, turning your eyes back to the road. A logging truck comes roaring up the hill, blasting by your sedan at top speed, making your car shake. Your heart squeezes in fear. You’ve passed over two dozen of them and they never drive any slower or any safer each time. 

You’re going to kill Hanna if you find her lounging in her house, making you come all this way.

She had taken up a story there, investigating the town's eerie occult background for the media company that she worked for. Her editor had stopped receiving updates from her around the same time you’d stopped hearing from her. 

When you called the landlord she was renting from, he was no help. Some idiot who owned seventeen houses dotted around the country, renting them out for twice the price they were worth. 

The local police station had been worse. They’d done a wellness check several times after you called but insisted she wasn’t home. No signs of a break-in, no signs of a struggle. No reason to be missing. They refused to make it an official report, as there was no reason for her to be missing. 

Have you considered she just doesn’t want to talk to you? they’d laughed on the phone. 

It was a joke. Somehow you could not believe they refused to file a report, and you threatened to take it to the state police and anyone who would listen to you. The woman you had spoken to had chuckled then, her mirth sending a chill up your spine. 

Have fun on hold, sweetheart.

You could not fathom how not a single person cared. Not the news, not any authority that you could get in contact with, and certainly not the lawyer you reached out to. 

Let law enforcement handle it. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and it was like it didn’t even matter that an entire person was missing. You’d heard about the blunders of the law enforcement system before, but this was a new level of ignorance and oddity.

It was… unexplainable. 

Which was why now, you were driving into the backwater town of Kill Devil in the southern part of the United States. 

Dropping your speed down, you take the chance to look around. There are a few houses on the outskirts of the town, their yards sprawling with kudzu and their homes leaning heavily with brown vines climbing up the eaves. There are several old, broken-down trucks in the middle of the kudzu fields, swallowed by the invasive vine-like devil’s snare. 

You’d heard of one-stop-light-towns but you had never seen one without. Kill Devil is made up of all stop signs. Everything is built around the courthouse, a red brick building dropped in the middle like a fungus growing its roots outward.

The sheriff’s office is just across the street with Crown Victoria model patrol cars. A taxidermist is right next door, the gold cursive font on the front of the glass door telling you it’s been there since the 70s. 

Kill Devil has everything you expect. Antique shops with dusty windows and dry-rotted awnings, a convenience store that looks straight out of retro America, closed-down shops with empty shelves and shattered glass, and a single diner with station wagons and mud-slicked trucks in the parking lot. 

A single motel stands at the edge of the town center. When you pull into the parking lot, you look up at the sign and frown. Like something out of a horror movie, the Lodging Motel is missing several letters in long-burnt-out neon, three letters blinking in the fading afternoon sun: Lodging Motel. 

Die.

With one look at the crusted, three-paneled windows and mold-covered brick face, you think that you just might die. 

Pink sun sinks behind the rolling hills of pine. You get out of the car, stretching and popping your joints as you look at your lodging with a sour taste in your mouth. You pass the ‘vacant’ sign as you walk to the small square building at the end with ‘front office’ on the window. 

“Yeah no shit,” you mutter. You cannot imagine who would stay here out of anything but necessity. 

In fact, it seems like there is no one staying at the hotel. This fact makes you jumpy as you approach the office, which is just a clerk's window and a woman with sunken eyes and a scowl on her face watching you. You swallow thickly as you give her a weak smile and nervous wave, trying to get past the sudden anxiety trembling in your hands. 

“Hi,” you say. “I have a reservation for-”

A small window that’s about six inches tall and a foot wide pops open. She hacks, fluid-sounding and phlegmy before saying, “I can’t hear you with the damn window closed. What do you want?” 

You clench your jaw. Slowly, you begin again. “I have a reservation.”

“ID and credit card.” 

You slide the materials through the window. She holds them up close to her face, scrutinizing them. Crickets join the singing of the locusts. Mosquitos fly around your head and you cringe, swatting at them as you wait while she rolls her chair over to a cabinet.

Wordlessly, she puts your credit card on a manual credit card imprinter. You raise your brows, unsure of the last time you’ve seen someone do paper credit card printing instead of sliding it through a machine. 

While you wait, you look past her into the office. It’s dingy inside but you can see a box TV and a window unit air conditioner rattling in the window. There are metal cabinets that form their own little skyscrapers around her office. An episode of I Love Lucy plays on the fuzzy TV screen. 

“Here’s your room key.” She tosses it through the window. It’s room three, the key hanging on a diamond-shaped, acrylic keychain with Lodging Motel written in Sharpie. “We don’t got room service or maid service. If you need more towels, the launder-mat is down the street. Don’t run the hot water more than twenty minutes or so. If the AC ain’t on, hit ‘er a few times.” 

“Great,” you deadpan. “Anything else?”

She scowls. “Mind the raccoons. They got rabies.” 

“Thanks.”

Inside the room is just as expected: peeling wallpaper, red shag carpet with questionable stains and the unmistakable stench of cigarettes, sconce lighting with lampshades that look decades old, a twin with a horrible patterned blanket, frayed at the edges and moth-eaten, and a single, square dresser with a box TV on top and a white, corded phone. 

The bathroom is no better. The tub is stained with limescale, cracked tiles, and a lamp that buzzes when you flip it on. You scream when you see the massive roach hanging out in the tub, gagging and running out to look for anything to kill it with. 

You settle on a sneaker, and it’s a battle involving your high-pitched scream as you try and kill it. You do win, but you’re covered in sweat and shaking after your victory.

A sharp knock on the door startles you further. You drift to the front door, looking out the peephole to find that it is cracked and you cannot see the person standing just on the other side. You slide the chain lock in and open the door tentatively, peering out into the now early night. 

“Everything okay?” a male voice asks. “I heard screaming.” 

The voice belongs to someone who absolutely does not belong in Kill Devil. He’s dressed in jeans with large rips at the knee and a plain white shirt that hangs off his frame stylishly. He has a few necklaces on, a single hoop hanging from his right ear that catches the flickering parking lot light. 

And he’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that stuns you. He has a slender face with smooth, flowing skin. His eyes are kind, glittering brown with flecks of lighter shades throughout. The slope of his cheekbones and jawline makes you think perhaps he’s into modeling, which would explain the taste in clothes. 

But it does not explain what someone who looks like that is doing in this shithole town. 

“I had to kill a roach,” you admit, a little hesitant. Your skin tingles under his gaze, your instincts picking up something that you can’t put your thumb on. “I don’t like them very much and it was fast.”

“Disgusting. I had to buy killer for them - it came in a two-pack if you want?” You don’t answer, watching him warily. He picks up on your anticipation and smiles, disarming. “Sorry - my name is Hoseok. You can call me Hobi, if you’d like. I’m staying next door which is just as gross as your room is I’m sure. I heard you yell and I got worried.”

“That’s kind of you. This doesn’t seem like a place where people would care if they heard  screaming.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not from here.” He looks around the parking lot and his eyes focus on a raccoon meandering near the trash. You grimace, thinking about rabies. “Thank fuck, this place feels right out of fucking Deliverance.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling better at his distaste. “One sec, let me slide the lock off.” You close the door and slide the chain before opening it a little wider this time. “Yeah, this place gives me the creeps. Hopefully, I don’t have to be here long.”

“A night is long enough. You want that spray?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” 

Hoseok grins and holds up a finger, asking you to wait as he jogs to his room. He’s only gone for a moment, leaving you in the poorly lit lot with the tk tk tk of the raccoon pilfering through trash and the crickets creek creek creeking. 

Hoseok’s door opens and he’s back, handing you a large, red can of lemon-scented Raid. “Just make sure you drown them. They did outlive the dinosaurs. Makes you wonder what the hell is in that stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem…” He drifts off, unsure what your name is. You laugh, a little flustered by the way his entire face lights up when he smiles, and give him your name. “I like it. Well, I don’t know how long you’re here, but I’m your neighbor for a few days. Try not to catch any infections while you’re in there and holler if you need me.”

“Thanks,” you grin. You hold up the can and add, “Especially for this.”

With a wave goodnight, Hoseok returns to his room. The buzz of something instinctual fades with him, replaced once more with the unsettling frequency the town seems to vibrate at. 

Closing the door firmly behind you and flicking the lock, you shiver. The eerie feeling that had been following you lingers.

After changing the sheets, inspecting the rest of the room and setting the spray can firmly on the pillow next to you, you lay on your back in bed, mattress lumpy and air conditioner rattling. 

-

Moonlight streams through the curtain, catching dust motes floating in the air and turning them into diamonds. You stand in the middle of the room. Cold but humid air clings to your skin, the air conditioner rattling and dripping as it cools the room but does nothing to suck out the moisture. You don’t know why you’re standing in the middle of the room and you don’t remember waking up and getting out of bed, but you face the window, the curtains open just enough to face the empty parking lot. 

Silence blankets the world. The hum of the air conditioner fades and you stare out into the silver-painted parking lot. Above the lot, a street light flickers on and off weakly. It goes out for a minute and flashes back on.

Someone leans against the pole. You can’t make out any features, just that there is a person there, perhaps facing you. The hair on your skin stands on end but you can’t move. Your instincts begin to prickle and there is a sharp feeling in your chest.

Belatedly, beyond your hypnotized stare, you realize the feeling is fear.

Your ears start to ring. You stare out at the shadow and the shadow stares back. Something is telling you to run run run but you don’t know how. Can’t move your feet. Panic begins to rise, your heart beating so fast that you can hear it over the steady whine in your ears. 

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump. 

You can feel your pulse skyrocketing, your chest squeezing tight with terror as the beating gets louder and louder -

Awareness hits you like cold water. You lurch forward in bed, hands flying to your chest as you gasp for air. It takes a moment to get your bearings, the pounding in your heart so hard it feels like you might vomit. Battling the sheets, you rip them off of you, legs sticky with a sheen of sweat. 

The lamp is still on in your room, the curtains are closed just the way you left them, and the bug killer rolls on the bed as you get up. Several paces away from the window, you catch your breath, running a hand over your face. 

“Fuck,” you pant, realizing you were dreaming. 

When your breathing levels out, you glance at the closed curtains. Something niggles at your brain. Slowly, you walk toward the window, feeling the hairs on your arms tingle and stand on end.

Lifting your shaking hands, you grip the curtain tight. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in and pull open the curtain just a bit. 

Unlike your dream, there’s no moonlight outside. It’s so dark you almost can’t see anything in the parking lot. When the lot light flickers back on, your heart squeezes, expecting to see a shadow leaning against the pole. There’s nothing there, just empty lot and a dumpster. Not even the raccoon is around. 

Blowing out your held breath, you close the curtain again and shake out your hands, trying to get rid of the jitters. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you try to work out the tension as you sit on the end of the bed, staring at the faded wallpaper. 

The dream felt so real. You swear that if you turn your head, you’ll see silver moonlight through the curtains. That you’ll see that person - that shadow - standing outside of your window. 

Exhaustion weighs heavy on you. You crawl back into bed, mattress damp and smelling like mildew even with the sheets that you put on it. You’re under a lot of stress and you hate this motel room as much as you already hate this town that you’ve barely started to explore. It makes sense that you’re having weird dreams. 

Blanket pulled up to your chin, you eventually let your lids flutter shut until you’re taken by dreamless sleep. 

-

Morning sun chases away the dregs of your strange dream from the night before. With daylight streaming between the curtains, the room looks no better. It’s a futile hope, perhaps, to keep thinking that the room will suddenly not look nearly as questionable as when you checked in. 

At least there are no bugs. 

Outside, the balmy air is filled with the voices of the locusts. You lock the door behind you and glance toward where Hoseok vanished the night before. His windows are closed and there’s no sign of him anywhere in the parking lot, so you head to your car, stomach begging for food. 

Kill Devil is small in both size and population. The Diner is easy to find, tucked in the southwest corner of the town across from the courthouse. Folks wander about the parking lot, shaking one another’s hands and laughing as the weekend rush of people meanders up the steps for breakfast. 

Your arrival is noted immediately. Eyes turn your way as you walk through the lot, loose gravel crunching under your feet. The lot is more packed dirt than pavement, full of holes and mud softened by rain. 

Seeing a new face in a wretched little town like this probably isn’t common. Though you’re not familiar with growing up in such a small population, you remember what it was like knowing everyone at school. The same theory applies here when a portly man with raised brows stands, screen door in hand as he stares at you.

The man blocks the way to the inside of the diner. You pause and look up, noting the confusion on his face. After clearing your throat, he realizes that he’s completely frozen from opening the door and coughs, bowing his head and apologizing. 

“You uh - visiting?” he asks, holding the door open for you. When you nod, he seems surprised, though that had to be the only answer. “Well, that doesn’t happen often. Welcome to Kill Devil.”

There’s a small host stand with a pile of laminated menus on top. A girl who looks to be about your age stares back at you, wiping her hands on a red apron tied around her waist. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt that says The Diner across the chest, her hair pulled up and stabbed through with a pen. 

“Just you?” she asks, eyes fluttering to the man who shrugs behind you. You nod. “Right this way.” 

The wooden walls are painted white, some of the paint peeling. There are miscellaneous animal heads with plaques underneath stating the names of their killers with a stamp of Jason’s Taxidermy. You try not to make eye contact with their black, glass eyes as you sit in a chair that wobbles from side to side.

You thank the hostess as she wanders off to get you coffee. The family at the table next to you does their best to whisper about who the hell is that as you look over the menu, flipping it to the breakfast side. The laminate is sticky and peeling at the corners. 

It’s a pretty standard breakfast menu. You put it down on the table, nudging the container holding different colored sugar packets and sweeteners while you wait for your coffee. There’s a breakfast bar with people bent over steaming eggs and sitting atop cracked vinyl seats. 

The door opens behind you at a steady rate as people pay their bills and leave while new customers are sitting. A presence at your back sends a cool tingle up your spine, making you straighten and look over your shoulder.

Hoseok stands in a shaft of sunlight coming through the window, turning him gold. For a moment, the diner around you falls to a hush of murmured voices, muting the clinking of spoons against ceramic and scraping chairs.

He’s dressed well again, in a simple white button-up with the button undone to reveal a strip of golden chest. His hair is slightly damp and styled back, an outrageously good look on him. The same hoop earring dangles in his ear but today he has on a few necklaces and rings on his fingers. Somehow, he makes the delicate pieces carry an edge. 

“You survived the night, huh?” he says by way of greeting and then gestures to the chair across from you. “Would you mind company for breakfast?” 

You shake your head, forgetting words for a moment as he smiles, radiant as ever. Hoseok pulls out the chair and sits down, a twinkle in his eye that makes your heart flutter as he plucks a menu from the holder at the center of the table. You can smell his rain and lavender scent from across the table. 

“Thanks again,” you say, realizing you haven’t spoken yet. His brown eyes look at you over the top of the menu, and you can’t help but admire how beautiful they are. Warm, both dark and light, with flecks of chipped gold. “For the bug killer. I haven’t seen any more but I just know they’re there.”

“That’s the shitty thing about the South. All of God's least favorite creatures are here.” He glances at the table of scowling men next to you to emphasize. You hide your laughter with the plastic menu. “What brings you to this shit hole?”

“I’m… visiting my sister.”

“You sound unsure of that. Does she not know you’re coming?”

“She doesn’t.”

While they aren’t technically lies, you don’t know how much you can trust him. Instinct makes you hold the truth from him. After all, you don’t want him to know you’re in a town where no one knows you, and where no one knows you are. By yourself.

Hoseok looks at you again, his eyes narrowed. You feel tension creep into the air between you, your mouth drying out as he watches you silently. 

The arrival of the hostess who is also your server saves you from another question. You both place your order, and you note the way the girl cuts her eyes to Hoseok, wary. Her hands shake a little.

When she leaves the two of you, you ask, “How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks.”

“Enough to win over the locals, hmm?”

His grin is sly as he drums his fingers on the table. “I’m their favorite - you’re perceptive.” 

“My sister is an investigative journalist. She’s made me watch all kinds of shows and read books about psychology and body language with her. I picked up a few things.”

“An investigative journalist, huh?” Hoseok plucks a sugar packet and rips it open with his teeth. He shoots the ripped piece onto the table with a huff of air and dumps the contents on the table. Leaning on one elbow, he begins to trace patterns in the sugar. “So you’re not from here. No one here is smart enough for that.”

“No, she’s been living here since July.” 

“What’s she investigating?” You hesitate again. He doesn’t look up from the patterns he’s tracing on the table, finger steady as it cuts through the white sugar.

“I don’t really know.” He does look up when you say that, gaze razor-sharp. A chill slides up your spine. So you add, “Something to do with the occult.”

Hoseok stops moving his finger through the sugar. He doesn’t look at you, but he’s fixated on the mess he’s made on the table. You chew on your bottom lip, eyes dropping to his little sweetened artwork. You don’t understand the pattern that he’s traced, but it buzzes your brain when you look at it.

The silence stretches on. He remains unmoving and silent. Anxiety starts to creep in and you wonder if he thinks you’re crazy or is going to get up and leave-

With a huff of laughter, he leans back and smiles at you. 

“The occult huh? Interesting subject.”

“Know anything about it?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I mean, what is really considered occult? Most of these Bible thumpers around here would consider being queer witchcraft.” 

“You have a point there. Don’t tell them I’m a witch.”

He grins. “You can join my coven, then.” 

“Do you think they know there’s more than two genders?”

Hoseok’s laugh is infectious. You laugh along with him, visibly ruffling the feathers of the table next to you. 

For a moment, the two of you share a secret smile at your little table, wedged between the people who go to church every Sunday and swear by Fox News at brunch. It feels good to know you’re not the only person completely out of place in Kill Devil. 

The arrival of your server with steaming plates breaks the moment, but you feel better about your morning nonetheless. Especially when the conversation switches from stilted exchanges about your sister and the occult to things about you and Hoseok. 

Over runny eggs on toast and crunchy bacon, you learn that Hoseok is a shop owner in a small town very far from Kill Devil. He brushes over the fact that he’s visiting family to tell you all about his small corner of the world and all of his favorite plants. 

“Fiona is a venus fly trap,” he giggles with a snap of bacon. “She’s my second favorite, but what I really love is my pitcher plants. They eat bugs, mostly, but they like to devour frogs too. The frogs love to hide in them, but sometimes the pitcher plants take kindly to them and don’t eat them. It never lasts.” 

“I would hate for them to eat the frogs.”

“Hmm, circle of life.”

“But the poor frogs!”

Hoseok isn’t swayed. “There has to be a balance to everything. The pitcher plants will kill the frogs eventually. Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey. Their ecosystem doesn’t make sense. In order to pay back the food the pitcher plants bring them, the frog must die. It pays for power, in the end.”

“How do you mean?”

“Everything has a give and take.” He pauses to sip his coffee. He makes a face, opens a sugar packet, and empties it into the coffee. “In order to have life, we must have death. In order to have water, we must have fire, for earth, we must have air. There is a give and take in existence, and it has to stay that way.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“Chaos.”

“You know, a lot of theology believes that chaos created the world.”

“And perhaps it did. But in order to make the world, chaos needed…” Hoseok takes his butter knife in one hand and sticks out his pointer finger with the other. You watch as he places the knife horizontally across his finger, sliding it just so until he slowly lets it go, leaving it teetering back and forth, but never falling. “Balance. There has to be even weight on the scales to make it work.” 

“Interesting. So you think there is true balance in the world.”

“Not always, which is why we must make it.”

“Hmm. You have some interesting opinions.” 

“I am an interesting person.”

You like Hoseok. Conversation flows easily and it seems that he either doesn’t notice or does not care that he draws glances around the room, particularly when he gives a high-pitched laugh, leaning backward on the metal legs of his chair to clap his hands excitedly. You swear you see the table next to you flinch, though you can’t imagine why.

Hoseok insists on paying the bill, though you fight him all the way to the register. The elderly woman behind the till jams the pricing in from the ticket and slams the cash drawer shut when Hoseok hands over the bills. She makes sure not to tell you to have a good day, and you feel her sharp stare as you leave the interior of The Diner. 

In fact, the stares of the citizens are just as intense outside. Hoseok rattles on about a time he got really high and forgot to feed his cat. “Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you ask, distracted by the way a group of men leaning against a red pickup glare. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

“No, but I’m sure he was very vocal.” Hoseok smirks, toeing the gravel of the parking lot as you reach your car. You glance over at the pickup truck again, seeing the four sets of eyes fixated on the two of you. “Why does everyone around here stare?”

“They’ll ignore you soon enough if you ignore them.”

“They don’t seem to ignore you.”

He gives you a wry smile. “I guess you’re right. Going to visit your sister, then?”

Digging around in your bag, you search for keys. “Yeah, she lives out in some place called Grave Hollow. How creepy is that?” 

Silence is your only answer. You look up, pausing the search for your keys to find him staring at you with a blank expression. Your heart skips a beat - it’s the same wiped-clean face he had when you mentioned your sister investigating the occult. 

Licking your lips, you ignore the feeling of a weighted stone dropping into your stomach. Hoseok says nothing.

Then, he’s chipper again. “Well have fun,” he chirps, shrugging and giving a wave as he backs away to leave. “Hopefully she has some cool occult stuff to tell you about. You know where to find me!

It’s hard to keep track of the way Hoseok’s mood flips on a dime. You stare after him, but he’s all smiles and sunshine again before turning on a heel to walk out of the parking lot. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he tilts his face toward the azure sky, whistling a tune with a happy cadence. 

Something sticks to you as you watch him leave. You don’t know what it is, this feeling that you’re missing a critical detail. It’s like your instincts are scratching lightly at the door, but you have no key to flip the lock and no crowbar to force it open. 

Anxiety returns when you remember the weight of the eyes still focused on you. Hurriedly, you snatch your keys from your bag and get in your car, tossing your bag on the seat and starting the engine. As soon as it purrs to life, you feel instant relief. 

You hope that it lasts.

-

According to the research you’d done on Kill Devil, the town had been officially founded in the 1700s. Of course, being ‘officially’ founded didn’t mean much in the way of Western colonization. You had little doubt that the migration of people to the South chased out Native American tribes, as was the story everywhere. 

Kill Devil has been named such since its inception, which occurred a little after Georgia had been named an official state. The abundance of soil for cotton and peanut fields made it a wet dream for the expansion of cotton gins and eventually, peanuts - there was even a rumor that peanut butter had been invented in Kill Devil first, but you knew that to be untrue. 

A small town with a small impact. That was Kill Devil at the heart of its existence. It has always had a small population of sleepy folk. No stop lights, one church, a lot of paper companies coming in and cutting down trees, and some farming fields for various reasons.

There’s no reason that for a tiny little dot on the map, the town should be significant. 

And yet it had called your sister here. 

The car bounces, the suspension whining as you drive down the dirt road. A clay wall comes up on either side of you, roots of trees sticking out periodically. There’s no shoulder to the road, the rain has deepened the ruts on either side. You’re careful to keep in the middle, slowing down as the road tightens on corners. 

Pine stretches as far as the eye can see. You pass the occasional neon tape, marking sections of trees for the paper company to let grow a little longer before hacking them down. Several metal gates with keep out and declaring different hunting clubs flash by. There’s even a sign that says Rucker’s Meat Processing. 

GPS is unreliable out in the sticks where the cell towers don’t quite reach. You keep an eye on the flattened paper map in the passenger seat, marked with your red marker to make sure you take the right road.

A sigh of relief escapes you when you see a little metal post with a turn-off sign: Kill Ditch South. The house that your sister is renting lives off of that, only a mile down the road or so. Long drives appear between the trees, houses parked at the end of them. You feel a little less alone in the woods now knowing that there are people around. 

Though you’re not sure how helpful they would be if something was wrong. 

Worry creeps into your stomach as you slow the car. There’s a little mailbox with the address your sister gave you. It’s at the end of a short drive that’s been layered with gravel to make the incline easier on tires. It crunches beneath the tires as you drive toward the modest, white house. Your sister’s Four Runner is parked outside, making your heart thunder. 

Turning the car off, you slide out into the humid air, hands trembling. Locusts scream, hidden in the trees. The sun is at its zenith, beating down on you as you slowly walk toward the house. It’s a single-story with two sets of windows facing the front. A wrap-around porch that leans to the side stands empty, save for a single bench. 

As you pass your sister's car, you notice that the grass underneath is dead and dry. As if the car hasn’t moved for a while, denying the grass any sun to live. It makes you feel nauseous, feet like anvils as you take your first step up the stairs. 

The creak of the wood makes you flinch. 

“Hanna?” You call, voice shakier than you want it to be. “Hanna, it’s me! Don’t freak out!”

No one answers. Your stomach bubbles like acid, the slow drip of sweat down your neck making a chill rattle up your spine. You reach the door and swallow thickly, lifting your hands and knocking loudly. 

“Hanna?” 

Nothing but the sound of the locusts answers you. 

Your palms feel sweaty as you knock again. This time, your voice cracks when you call, “Hanna? Please answer the door.”

Wind sweeps across the trees. One thing about the wind in a land of pines and hills is that it’s loud, making a whooshing sound as it’s picked up by the boughs of the trees, rattling and letting their needles shake to the floor. 

It’s cool at your back and you feel your lip wobble when you lower your hand to the doorknob. When you twist, the door opens immediately, swinging of its own volition when you let go. 

Inside the house is the kind of silence that terrifies you in horror movies. The air is heavy. Your ears ring, searching for any rasp of sound to tell you that your sister is home. Licking your lips, you step over the threshold, the wooden floor cracking beneath the weight of your feet. 

To the immediate left of the door is an open kitchen. There are dishes on the dry rack and plants in the window, though they are wilted and dry. You chew your lip as you step further into the house, eyes sweeping around.

A blue, painted table stands in the middle of the kitchen. Piles of mail sit on top of it with a fake plant centerpiece and your sister's car keys.

Across from the kitchen is an open doorway with a stacked washer and dryer, and a folding table. It smells faintly of detergent, clothes folded in neat piles as if Hanna had just completed a laundry day.

Everything is silent in the living room. The couch looks cozy, with piles of blankets draped across it. There’s a faint smell of vanilla, though the wick on the candle doesn’t look like it’s been lit in a while. Dust collects on the TV stand and there are sandals by the door that leads to the back porch. 

Chewing your lip, you gently press your fingers to the door of Hanna’s bedroom, holding your breath. The sudden fear that it’s going to swing open and you’ll find your sister dead in her bed nearly incapacitates you, making the room spin a little as the door fully swings open. 

Nothing. No Hanna, no rotting smell of a dead body. Just an unmade bed in a room that smells vaguely of her cherry perfume, a bathroom with the door open, and a pile of clothes near the hamper.

The sight of the clothes on the floor and right next to the hamper slams you with a wave of nostalgia. You walk into the room and you unceremoniously plop yourself down on the edge of the bed. It sags underneath you but you don’t care, letting your face fall into your hands and letting a sob rip through you. 

Hanna isn’t here. You knew she wouldn’t be, but the relief that you don’t find her dead is so poignant that you can barely breathe past the snot clotting your nose and the way your throat constricts as you let out the fear. 

The sobs subside and you wipe your face, hands coming away sticky and wet. Through swollen eyes, you look around the room. With a wipe of your hands on your jeans, you get up and start looking around, pulling open drawers and looking for evidence of the last time that Hanna was in this home. 

It’s slow going. You’re unfamiliar with the space and you don’t know what to look for. It doesn’t seem like she had packed anything, but then again, how would you know if she did? 

There are signs that she hasn’t been in the house in weeks. Rotted food inside of the fridge, molded bread in the pantry. 

Outside, weeds grow around the steps. A cricket pops from the railing to the grass where its green body vanishes. The yard isn’t much of a yard - it’s open to the trees and a kudzu field to the west. 

Back inside, you grab Hanna’s keys and open her car. There is nothing inside that looks like she was trying to make a quick getaway. An extra pair of shoes shoved in the back, and an empty grocery bag she was using for trash - all normal things. 

In the passenger seat, you strike gold. 

Hanna’s journals and folders sit in the passenger seat, stacked in a leaning tower with pages sticking out from the edges of her books and slanted handwriting scrawled on the folder tabs. Gathering all of it, you head back inside and deposit the stack on the kitchen table before looking around the house again to see if there’s any sign of her. 

Something in your gut tells you that Hanna hasn’t been in the home for at least a month, if not more. 

Dread creeps into your stomach as you gather items and pack a bag. Your intention is to keep it on you at all times in the event that you find her cold and alone somewhere. The thought of needing it leaves a sour tang on your tongue, but you pack it nevertheless.

Bag over your shoulder and stack of Hanna’s investigative work in hand, you head off to your room at the motel. The afternoon sun still burns hot over your head, but you have no intention of sitting in the empty house that carries the scent of your sister’s absence. 

-

… While most historical accounts and official state documents indicate that Kill Devil was founded in 1730, journals buried deep in the city’s crumbling library have written records of townsfolk living in this settled town long before it was declared an official town. The journals reference the town as Covenstead and are filled with generations of the same family names. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon. 

Min. 

Generations of these families settled in Covenstead and built what is now Kill Devil. From the description of the town in the collection of journals, it appears that the general layout of the town is similar to Kill Devil’s current city map. 

Throughout the journals, there is a reference to the Wood. It seems to be a place mentioned in reverence, and there are allusions to celebrations in the Wood with entries dated in alignment with sabbats on the Wheel of the Year. 

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe seeing him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Your finger traces over your sister’s writing. She still writes in her cramped, crooked way, with the sabbats of pagan holidays crammed in the margins. You smile, biting your bottom lip again as you go through the written notes of her study. It is dizzying and you’re unsure what exactly you’re looking at, but something tickles the back of your mind as you reread the entry she copied from the long-dead Yoongi Min. There’s something you're missing.

This time, your eyes snag on a word. 

“The Covenstead,” you murmur, reading it over again. “Why would he call it the Covenstead? Is that just an older way of speaking?”

A tingle pricks your neck as you stare at the entry. You can’t understand what made your sister think this entry was odd besides the old-fashioned writing and reference to Mabon, because she writes nothing more on her analysis, and none of the journals she had been studying were anywhere you could find. 

Sighing, you push away her notebook and pull out a collection of folders and papers that she had on the town. It’s mostly renderings of the town in its heyday with maps and newspaper articles. There seems to be no correlation between her clippings of new business openings and random town news. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

The Grove Neighborhood Building Plans Accepted by Mayor

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

Something catches your eye in the article about the mayor’s son who fell into a well and died at the bottom. You reach for your sister's notebook and flip to read the small dates shoved into the margins.

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

June 19, 1781

Litha: Summer Solstice

June 19-23

Grabbing the other newspaper clippings, you climb off of the bed and lay them flat against the sheets, each crinkling under the excited press of your fingers as your brain whirs. It’s a puzzle your sister seems to have figured out already, and one you don’t expect to understand.

But you do. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

February 14, 1899

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

March 19, 1899

Ostara: Spring Equinox

March 19-22

You suck in a breath as you look at the next clipping, using your pointer finger to keep your place on the sabbats calendar your sister has written down to see that the article for the new neighborhood The Grove is dated only a month before the mayor's son fell tragically in the well. 

“Holy shit, Hanna,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your mouth and staring with burning eyes at the dates. “They match with pagan rituals? Something good, followed by something bad… like revenge? Punishment? Payment?” 

The question bothers you. A flutter in your gut tells you that you’re asking the right questions as you stare at the pages, unseeing and trying to understand what your sister is getting at. She didn’t write down her thoughts explicitly - in case anyone stole her work, she’d said - and now you’re wishing she weren’t so paranoid. Or that she at least used a computer. 

It isn’t an easy answer to puzzle out. An ache has settled deep in your temples and your half-eaten dinner has long gone cold. You decide you’ve earned a shower, though you don’t go into the bathroom without the bug spray armed and ready. 

Briefly, you think about Hoseok. Such an oddity to the town. You can’t help but think about the way he changes from light to dark so quickly, face becoming shadowed and eyes masked, expression there and gone so quickly that you’re unsure if you saw it at all. 

Strange. It’s all very strange. 

-

There is a shadow in the parking lot again. This time, it’s closer. The bulb burning above the lot flickers, but stays on. The shadow stands just beyond the silver halo of light it distributes.

No moon hangs in the sky. It is dark dark dark - impossibly dark. You stare through a crack in your curtains, watching the shadow as it watches you. Dread weighs down the pit of your stomach and you feel a fresh wave of terror-laced nausea sweep through you. 

You slide a foot backward gently, preparing to step away from the window. The shadow twitches and cocks its head to the side, not unlike a dog curious about something it’s heard. You suck in a sharp breath and hold it in, air screaming in your lungs, heart racing a frantic staccato. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it seems to say, beating until it’s all you can hear and feel, pumping your system so full of adrenaline that you feel light-headed. 

Your heart turns into a drum, frantic. It beats louder and louder and you feel rooted to your spot on the carpet, the soles of your feet surgical-stitched to the ugly shag carpet. You stare and stare and stare at the shadow and your heart is hammering so loud boom boom BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM-

Sweat-drenched and gasping for air, you sit up. Your heart pounds so hard you can feel it under the palm you have pressed against your chest. But the banging is coming from the hotel door, a steady stream of closed-fist hammering and Hoseok’s voice calling your name. 

Peeling the covers back from your damp skin, you stumble to the door, nightmare-drunk and disoriented. You forget to remove the chain from the door, yanking it open and immediately slamming it to a stop as the chain pulls, refusing to let the door open.

Hoseok is on the other side, hair slightly disheveled, brows pulled together. He’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a casual look by anyone’s standards but still effortlessly put together. 

“Shit, hold on,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth with sleep. Closing the door, you slide the chain out, then reopen it successfully. “Sorry, is everything-”

“What’s going on?”

“What?”

His gaze is thunderous as he looks past you into your room. “You were screaming at the top of your lungs.”

Heat flushes your neck and face. “I-I’m sorry. I was having a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m not mad. What’s going on?”

In the shadow of the night, he looks dangerous, made up of edges and eyes narrowed. “Can I come in?” 

You open the door and move out of his way. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Out of habit, you latch the door when you shut it.

Hoseok is a little out of place in your room. Even when dressed down, he looks like he belongs on a private jet, lounging among soft, polished leather and sipping exotic coffee. Not in a rundown motel room with peeling wallpaper and smoke-stained ceilings. 

“What’s all this?” Your stomach plummets when he sees the journals and papers on your bed. you rush to shove it all under the blanket but Hoseok is fast, plucking a sheet of paper and looking over it, face pinched. “Is this what you meant by your sister studies the occult?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just um- looking over her work.” 

“You know about the occult?”

“Not at all.”

He glances at you, razor-sharp. “Then why would you be looking it over for her?”

The atmosphere shifts. It occurs to you that he doesn’t know your sister is missing. Has no idea that you’re desperately trying to put together pieces of a broken puzzle, without any clue on where to find the remaining parts to view the entire picture. 

You weigh the options of lying, losing precious time as the silence hangs heavy and awkward between the two of you. He watches, brows raised and expectant, fingers gripping the paper. 

“My sister is missing.” It feels weird to say it. Your tongue feels heavy and as you stare over his shoulder at a fixed spot on the wall, it feels like someone else enters your body to tell him, “I came here because no one would help me find her. She was here studying the town's occult myths for work and vanished. I had this… horrible feeling when she stopped calling and answering.”

“Have you contacted the authorities?”

You scoff and throw a glare at him. “Of course I have. It’s useless and frustrating. No one seems to give a shit that there is a missing person, and every lawyer, law officer and city official I talk to don’t fucking care. It’s like they’re all programmed to give me the same answer. They keep telling me that they’ve seen her around or that she’s probably ignoring me on purpose. They make me seem crazy.”

You expect him to tell you to leave it to the authorities. That’s what Hanna’s boss had told you to do. No one seems to be alarmed, no one cares. But you do. Desperately. And you cannot wrap your head around them looking the other way. 

You’re preparing for the same reaction when Hoseok surprises you by saying, “You’re not crazy.”

“I’m not?”

He quirks a brow and his rosebud lips twitch in a smirk. “Well, you probably are. But not for this. Have you asked around town about her?”

You shake your head. “I only went to the house that she was staying at. I wanted to see if maybe she really was ignoring me or maybe just… I don’t know. In the zone for work. She wasn’t there and it doesn’t look like there was any sign of distress.” 

“Take me there.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.” He tosses the papers onto the pile on your bed. “We’ll be safe.”

“First of all,” you hedge. “How do I know that? I barely know you. Second of all, what is going there in the middle of the night going to help?”

“I’m good at investigating. Maybe I’ll see something that you don’t.”

“Sorry, are you a cop now?”

“No, it’s hard to explain but I promise I’m trying to help you.” When you don’t move, Hoseok grimaces. “Look,” he explains evenly. “I really am trying to help you. I haven’t been entirely honest about why I’m here in this town. I came because I was also interested in some things happening here. Now I’m worried your sister is involved.”

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. “Involved how?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping it’s a coincidence. Believe it or not, those do happen. But I’d like to visit her house to see if there’s anything at all that sticks out to me.” You hesitate, chewing on your lip. You don’t really know him, and now you trust him even less with his reasoning. “Please,” he adds. 

You relent. “Fine.” Hanna is your main goal. You don’t trust Hoseok, but you wonder if he really can help you when no one else has. “Let’s go.” 

Damp air rushes through the open windows of your car. You lowered them as you got in for a quick escape if Hoseok attacks you while you drive. He says nothing in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the pine trees rushing behind you. 

Outside, the world is painted night-blue from the moon. There’s a weird hue to everything, making it feel as though you’re wading with heavy limbs through a dream. It’s no better when you arrive at the dark house.

It looks terrifying at night. There’s no street light to guide you, only that of the silver moon and the bright halogen lights of your car. You turn off your vehicle but switch the headlights on, turning on the high beams to shine on the house. 

On the edges of where the light fades to shadow, your fear lies. The trees look taller than in the daylight, their branches like craggy limbs and reaching fingers. Anxiety bubbles uncomfortably in your stomach. 

Each crunch of the grass beneath your feet falls too loud against the heavy silence. Here, you notice that the crickets are no longer singing. It’s just the hush of the wind gusting through the canyons and the far-away swell as it blows up the hills. 

Though it’s not cool outside, there’s a chill on your skin. Hoseok walks up to the house, the beams of the car’s headlights throwing his shadow across it in jarring, monstrous shapes. You keep your eyes focused on him and your keys tucked in your hand, ready to use them as a weapon if needed. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem concerned about your anxiety or the silence thrumming around the home. He walks up the steps and opens the door, vanishing into the dark mouth of the threshold. For a moment, you stand in the front yard, getting tunnel vision as you stare at the darkness in the doorway. 

You imagine stepping over the threshold into that cool dark, letting it suck you in. You imagine that as soon as your shoes hit the creaking floor, Hoseok will snatch you by the waist and pull you into the belly of the beast. Once in his clutches, he’ll throw you to the ground and the last thing you’ll remember is-

Hoseok reappears in the doorway. You blink and the waking nightmare melts away, so vivid that you’re shaking where you’re standing, looking at him in confusion. He hops down the stairs, scowling as he crosses the front lawn in a few long strides. 

He pauses when he sees your face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I…” you shake your head, trying to dispel the weird vision you had a moment ago. “Nothing. I just don’t like the dark very much.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you find anything?”

His lip twitches. It’s almost impossible to detect, but you’re so focused on his face and trying not to picture him as the man in the terrifying thought you had moments ago, that you see it. “No.” 

Lying. He’s lying. You clutch your keys and your breath quickens. He moves to round the side of the car and take the passenger seat, but you step in front of him. He pulls up short, eyes narrowing as you stand between him and the vehicle, blood pumping. 

“I think you’re lying.”

“About what?”

“A lot of things.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“My instinct.”

He hums. “Instinct isn’t always a good thing.” He looks you up and down. “I didn’t find anything,” he says again. “I just got a really weird feeling inside of the house.”

“And?”

“And it’s the same weird feeling I’ve gotten in other places where people visiting went missing. Including the motel we’re staying at.” That makes you recoil. You feel the blood drain from your face, making you a little dizzy. You don’t know what’s going on, don’t understand what he’s getting at. “Your sister’s notes were about the covenstead here.”

That word again. The covenstead and not Covenstead, like a town name. “It was the town name before it was Kill Devil.” 

“No,” he corrects. “It was a landmark. A covenstead, for people who lived here. A coven.” 

“A coven.” He nods. “Like vampires and witches?” 

Hanna’s notes had included all of those pagan holidays crammed in the margins of her work. Marking dates of occurrences that coincided with sabbat holidays. “Hoseok,” you say slowly. “Are you telling me that a bunch of witches live here and have kidnapped my sister?”

He regards you for a moment, eyes flickering up and down. His face is unreadable and dark in the night air, eyes shadowed and haunting. “That’s actually exactly what I’m saying.”

“Witches aren’t real.” 

He frowns. “I can prove that they are.” 

“How?”

He gestures to the car. “Let’s go.” 

-

When you were younger, your sister always believed in magic. You remember spending all of October huddled on the couch with crocheted blankets, watching Halloween movies with the blanket pulled warm over scabbed knees, with popcorn-greased fingers tucked under heated thighs. Hanna always picked the movies - Halloween was her time of the year and you were happy to indulge. 

Hanna’s choices were always superb. Hocus Pocus received more airtime than anything else, replayed between Halloweentown one and two, Practical Magic, The Witches and The Addams Family among others. Every night of the month was crammed full of magic and spells and haunted houses, sweetened by candy corn and Butterfingers. 

Those were the nights that you loved the most. There was no fighting, no whining and crying over Hanna stealing your hair clips or you breaking her hair dryer. It was just the two of you, pressed skin-to-skin and spelled by the scrolling movies.

It’s as close to magic as you’ve ever been. You don’t think you were ever closer to her than in those moments. Under the blankets and the dim candles your mother lit, you were one being, melded. You knew when she would gasp at every jump scare and whisper each one of her favorite lines. 

Thinking back on it, you wonder if Hanna was onto something. She always insisted that parts of the movies had to be true. Stories are rooted in history, and though myth and legend changed with culture, colonization and the introduction of new religions, science and ideas, there was something about the concept of magic and spirit that felt real to her. 

It was why she went to school and majored in journalism with minors in folklore and history. She had even started a master's program for occult studies and folklore, spending late nights studying between traveling across the country from haunt to haunt for her job. 

Staring at her work on the bed of your hotel room as Hoseok adds some of his own notes and findings, you have never missed her more. There is a sudden ache inside of your chest, so strong that it takes your breath away. Your hand goes to the necklace at your neck, feeling flushed, heart pounding. 

Hoseok is explaining how there used to be a coven of witches that lived in the Wood long before Kill Devil existed. The Wood, Hoseok explains, is like a living and breathing conduit of power. It was something that gave the coven power but also needed to be fed. 

The Covenstead. You remember the journal entry that had called it the covenstead. A place where witches commune and live together as one functioning body of magic. That much power does things to a place, skews the way the world works a little bit. He gives examples of places all around the world with similar experiences: the Bermuda Triangle, Door To Hell, Reed Flute Cave. All places where an abundance of magic and energy warps the way life functions. 

But the Wood was strange before the witches got here. Hoseok rolls out a map, fingers tracing the lines of the city. Clarity snaps like a rubberband stinging against skin as you stare at it, lips parted, inhaling sharply. 

The city roads make a pentagram, and at the very center is the courthouse. 

“This is on purpose,” Hoseok explains. “There are other places in the world where the way the city or town or village is built is like a pentagram. Usually, these are called portals. They’re different from faerie rings which have their own power and distortions. These portals are for practicing witches and those who know how to use them.”

“Portals for what?”

“Creatures of great power that exist in worlds that don’t belong to us. Part of what gives witches their ability to perform magic is their energy. They are attuned to the world around them in a way that humans are not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you understand the concept of third and fourth dimensions?” 

“Third dimension is what we live in,” you answer mechanically, somewhat familiar with the idea. “If a fourth dimension existed, we wouldn’t know because it moves in a way that we are unable to perceive. The fourth dimension, in theory, is movement and sight we would never have.”

“Exactly. But witches are attuned to that. These pentagrams,” Hoseok murmurs, tapping the map. “Are made to connect to the fourth dimension. Pentagrams are not inherently evil or even paranormal, but similar to sacred geometry, they… radiate at a frequency that other dimensions do. Powerful symbols like this have existed since Mesopotamia.” 

“I… how does this prove that magic is real?”

For a moment, you’re distracted by the way Hoseok’s artful fingers pluck your sister's notebook from the bed. He flips until you’re looking at her journal entries and the newspaper clippings with dates and headlines. 

“Witchcraft is different in every culture and part of the world. These holidays have roots in Celtic and Welsh craft. It was brought over by the pilgrims when people fled England and traveled here. This is old - not as old as whatever lives in the Wood, but old enough that it’s powerful. These dates you’re looking at? They’re sacrifices to keep the Wood powerful.”

“How do you even know all of this?”

“I’ve studied it my entire life.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just something that runs in my family. We’re very spiritual people.” Something about the way his voice wavers makes you look at him sharply. Hoseok isn’t looking at you, busying himself with sifting through papers. There’s a pinch in your gut that makes you think he’s lying, but you’re afraid to push the matter. 

“Get some rest,” he says, breaking your exhausted train of thought. “We can talk more in the morning when you’re not exhausted.” 

“Yeah.” You rub your weary eyes. “Yeah, okay.” 

With Hoseok gone, you crawl into the bed, leaving the light on, staring off into the distance as your hand clutches your necklace. Your lip trembles and your throat constricts painfully. When you close your eyes, you feel tears slide down your face. 

Tucking your face into the pillow to hide your tears, you let out a small, aching sound. You just want to know where your sister is, and somehow you’ve landed in the middle of a hateful little town with strange little people and a strange little fantasy.

Crying is inevitable. But at least it puts you to sleep.

-

This time, you know you’re dreaming. You don’t know how you know, but you do. There’s a watery feeling to the hotel room when you open your eyes. As though you’re both there and you’re not.

You glance at the clock but the numbers are all wrong. You rub your eyes and look again, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t make sense of them.

You want to sit up. You move your arms - no, you try to move your arms. They don’t move, suddenly too heavy to slide under the covers of your blanket and peel it back. Panic sparks in you as you try to shift your legs, but though you can feel them, you can’t move them.

Terror as you’ve never known slides between your ribs, sharp and poignant. You can’t breathe and you know you’re dreaming and yet you can’t move. You close your eyes, brain repeating the same words over and over again: wake up wake up wake up wake up WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP-

It doesn’t happen. You open your eyes and your room still has the dream-glazed light to it, and you still can’t move. Something shifts in your peripheral vision. Your heart seizes in your chest so sharply you think you’ll die. 

You cannot turn your head to look at the shadow that moves just beyond your sight. Tears slip from your eyes, hot, wet and burning. You can’t wipe them. They blind you, turn your vision into an opaque, watery mess as something slides to the foot of your bed. 

When you feel the mattress dip, you try to scream. The sound is locked in your throat, with so much force behind it that you wait for your vocal cords to explode. The fear is raw now, your eyes wild, tears leaking as you mentally thrash and thrash and thrash. 

Weight shifts on either side of the bed and you have the sense that there is someone crawling on you but you can’t see beyond your crying, can’t hear beyond the pounding of your own heartbeat slamming in your ears, blocking out every other noise and-

Something invisible to you grips your throat. You still have the instinct to move, driving you to madness as your brain signals for your hands to fly to your assailant and yank and remove the hold on your neck. 

It’s crushing. You gasp for air, no noise coming out as the grip tightens, and you know with certainty that this is it. Whatever dream this is will kill you, this time. 

The realization that you’re going to die suddenly mutes the terror. It slides behind a glass door, beating its fists, but it's duller now. You have sharper clarity, and briefly you think of what Hoseok said about beings from the fourth dimension, and how the witches summon them through their craft here. To this place. Where you cannot perceive them. 

You wonder if this happened to Hanna. You miss her, your sister, with big dreams and fast smiles and a head full of magic and wondering. This, you think, is how you go. And perhaps you’ll join her. 

Thoughts blend together, sloshed wine in a glass. They’re warm and liquid and have no shape to them, no real purpose. It’s like you know you’re thinking, but you don’t know of what. Darkness pools at the edge of your vision. It feels cold and alone but you drift toward it, away from the pain. 

And then you can breathe. 

Air comes sweeping in, forcing its way into your mouth, into your lungs. Your lungs inflate so painfully that for a split second, you think they’re on fire. Oxygen burns its way through you and bursts of color explode on the canvas of your closed eyes - you don’t remember closing your eyes. 

You roll over in bed, coughing, mouth wet with spit and phlegm as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. 

High-pitched ringing whines in your ears, and there are muffled sounds on the other end of it. The motel room tilts back into vision, melting into place. You think that the room has reloaded into your world wrong - everything is crooked. 

Then you realize you’re laying on your side, gagging and gasping for air. There is a hand against to your back, palm cold, fingertips freezing. The touch, you realize, feels full of energy, your spine tingling where it’s pressed against you. 

Lurching away from the touch, you roll to the side of the bed, looking at the person whose hand had been pressed against you. 

Hoseok’s tangled in the sheets, hair a mess, shirtless and in sweats. He’s panting, flushed, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his body. But it’s his eyes that stop you from scrambling away. They’re dark, burning like two pieces of coal as he looks at you, kneeling with his hands in his lap, palms facing the ceiling. 

Hoseok says something. The ringing in your ears has just started to die down and you shake your head, unsure of what he means and not confident in your ability to speak. 

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“This is my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” 

He lifts his hands and you flinch. The look on his face is pure heartbreak, shrouded in golden light. “Please,” he murmurs. “Let me help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

It’s quiet, save for the sound of the humming air conditioner. 

Trust your gut, your sister had said. 

So you do because he’s offered to help you thus far. You nod, giving him access to you. He sags in relief, shuffling forward tentatively as he takes your face in his hands. His palms are impossibly warm. Your eyes flutter shut at the touch, unable to look at him this close, this boy of light and something, as he cradles your face. 

Warmth pools in your face, saturating down to your neck and chest. The ache in your lungs eases, and the lump in your throat continues to recede. You don’t want to ask what he’s doing. You don’t want to think. You don’t want to feel the terror of moments ago ever again, and with the way Hoseok is touching you, so close that his breath fans your brow, and you can smell him like rain and lavender, you want to embrace it. 

There’s no thought process to the way you lean up into him. Your eyes are closed, your breath shaking as you seek him. Hoseok makes a surprised noise, but it vanishes as you press your lips against his.

Relief sweeps through you. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before, every drop of terror fading away, momentarily forgotten. Every ache vanishes. It’s just Hoseok and the way he burns brighter than the sun, and the way it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

After a brief moment of hesitation, he kisses you back. It’s sweet and soft-lipped, his fingers pressing into the side of your face gently as he pulls you to him. You follow his pull, both physically and something like a tether, getting up on your knees to get closer. 

Hoseok breaks the kiss, nose brushing yours. You open your eyes, half-lidded and feeling dizzy from just the gentle press of lips. His eyes are dark, but you see the light flecks of brown in them, like an entire world of sun and stars exist in their depths. 

“Make it go away,” you whisper.

You don’t specify. The pain, the nightmares, the fear, the weird town, the worry about your sister. You want it all to stop and this person you barely know - you feel as though he can take it away. Or mute it. 

He nods, eyes closing as he kisses you properly. You forget what you were worried about, and it’s all you can do not to fall headfirst into Hoseok. His mouth is warm and wet, tongue soft but greedy as he pries your mouth open, drinking you in. 

Hoseok’s lips tingle against yours, sending a shiver skating down your spine. You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers tangling in the silky strands there. He hums appreciatively when your nails slow-scratch at the base of his scalp. 

Carefully, Hoseok shuffles you into his lap. Your knees dip on the mattress on either side of his hips, straddling his waist. His hands find the hem of your sleep shirt and pull upward. You break the kiss, a string of spit connecting your flushed mouths before the garment breaks it.

The room is cold, air hitting your bare chest and hardening your nipples immediately. You whine but Hoseok is fast, pressing your chest to his as he attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking at the tender flesh sharply. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, letting your head drop backward heavily. Your eyes are shut and the world feels like it’s spinning. He has one hand on your hip, the other on the small of your back, pressing you to him to keep you warm and to rock your hips gently into his. “Feels good.”

He hums in response, sucking wet stains onto your flesh as he moves toward your chest. You push your tits out to meet his searching mouth, gasping lightly when the rough drag of his tongue swipes across your nipple. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Your fingers dig into the back of his neck as Hoseok sucks your peak greedily. You’re grinding into his lap on your own now, panties clinging to your hot, sticky folds as you seek friction. He’s hard beneath you and you want to feel him. 

Letting you rut in his lap, Hoseok drags delicate fingers over the curve of your ass and thigh, and his nails leave goosebumps in their wake. The feeling between your legs and at the base of your spine is heady as he lets go of one nipple with a sharp pop, tongue tracing a sloppy line to the other. 

Hoseok’s teeth tease the tight bud and you whine. “Oh?” he asks, voice rough and low. “Gonna be a baby about it?”

You shake your head, but your lip juts out as you look at him, dazed. “Want more.”

“Tell me.”

Dropping one hand from his neck, you take the hand resting on your thigh, guiding it between your legs. Hoseok presses the pads of his fingers to your underwear and you let out a keen. It’s not nearly enough, but the pressure sends another wave of arousal flooding through you. 

“Hmm,” he hums, dragging his fingers back and forth over the damp cloth. “Soaked from just that, huh?” You nod and he bites your collarbone. Fuck, he’s going to kill you, sending another tremble down your frame. He hooks a finger in your underwear, sliding against your glossy folds experimentally and he curses, “Fuck. Pussy is already messy and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please.”

“What do you want? I already asked.”

“More.” Hoseok presses your clit, letting you drip onto his fingers, but he doesn’t move them. You grit your teeth. “Want your fingers,” you ask through clenched teeth. “Fuck me with them, anything. Please.” 

He grins, face wicked before he kisses your nose. “See, you just had to tell me.” 

You’re tense as he pulls your underwear to the side, shoving the fabric against your thigh. Cool air hits your cunt. You can’t recall ever wanting someone like this, vibrating uncontrollably as he traces your slit with his fingers, lazily circling your clit.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you drop your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder. He lets you sag against him as he plays with your pussy, fingers barely dipping to tease your hole and gather juices before coming back to trace your clit, applying delicious pressure. 

It feels so good. It’s mind-numbing, letting him do what he wants. Hoseok pants in your ear, breathing stilted between chaste kisses against the side of your head. 

Painfully slow, Hoseok inserts a single finger into your wet heat. The sound you let out is high-pitched and loud. It’s not nearly enough, but you lose all sense of asking for more as his finger slides in deep, pressing against your front wall to massage that delicate spot inside of you.

“Oh shit,” you stutter, unable to help it. 

He laughs, voice deep when he asks, “Yeah? That the spot?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He slow-drags his finger in and out of your pussy, fucking you slowly. He curses, teasing you only for a moment before he gifts you another. The stretch is so much better, and you melt. He thrusts leisurely, not hard and fast but deep. Your walls swallow his fingers, gripping them and begging him not to stop as a tight coil winds in your stomach as he presses hard against your g-spot.

It’s messy, the wet drag of his fingers in your cunt. You feel the slow drip of arousal every time he pulls back, soaking his hand. It drops down your thighs as he picks up the pace. You lift your hips a little, adding a bounce to his motions. 

“Oh? You wanna do it?” He stops moving his hand and you let out a desperate sound. He laughs. “No, go ahead. If you’re so eager, do it yourself. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Seeking balance by holding his shoulders, you grip him tight, face tucked in his neck as you maneuver yourself, using your knees to lightly fuck yourself on his fingers. It feels so good, and you adjust the angle until you feel him hit that spot again, making you see stars. 

It’s electric, this feeling rippling in your bloodstream. It feels different with Hoseok and you can’t place why, but your orgasm is building so sharply in your stomach that you nearly stop thrusting, overwhelmed by the sensation. 

The pressure in your stomach winds and winds and winds until it snaps, every muscle in your thighs and ass squeezing tight, your hands turning to an iron grip, breath stuck in your lungs as you let out a strangled sound, squeezing Hoseok’s fingers as you come. 

Hoseok is whispering something in your ear, but you can’t hear him over the thundering heartbeat of your pulse, shaking as you come down from your high. When you do, you’re vaguely aware that he’s pulled his fingers out, but he’s massaging the tight ring of muscles, making you shiver.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Wanna see you stretch yourself on my cock like that.”

“Wanna,” you mumbled. 

Your limbs are heavy and lazy as you shuffle, uncoordinated. Hoseok laughs, finding you endearing as you scowl and shift off his lap. His touch is featherlight as he pulls your panties off. You need him, completely naked and shivering as your eyes drop from the smooth, carved planes of his chest and abs to the heavy imprint of his cock in his sweats.

And the wet stain mess you’ve made. 

Flushed, you watch as he looks up at you, smirking. “Go on.” 

Scooting toward him with eager hands, you rest with your feet tucked under you. Dipping your touch below his waistband, you grasp him firmly, cock heavy in your hand. He sighs, head tilting back a little while you slide your grip along his shaft.

Brushing your thumb over his tip to collect hot, sticky precum, you spread it, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you stroke him gently, testing the waters. His hips twitch and his mouth parts, gold light of the lamp turning him into Giovanni’s Apollo. He is ethereal, a burning sun and you suddenly understand why Icarus flew to his demise.

Maybe you will too. 

With your other hand, you push Hoseok’s sweats down. Though you could feel the size and swollen weight of him in your hand, it’s still a marvel when you see his thick length, dark tip oozing precum. 

A hiss escapes his teeth when you give him a firm squeeze. He lets you pump him lazily, and your mouth catches the underside of his jaw, teething and sucking sharp marks into his skin. He tastes like something electric and a little bit of sweat, your tongue buzzing. 

“Hmm,” he hums, fingers gripping the back of your neck to pull your mouth back up to his. It’s more spit and him gasping into your mouth more than anything. “You know how stunning you are?”

You feel heat creep up in your cheeks. Hoseok shuffles away from you and you let go of your grip on him, watching his dick slap against his stomach, smearing precum. He sits near the headboard, leaning against the wallpaper and staring at you with hungry eyes. 

“You’re going to make me shy,” you say softly, though you still crawl toward him. You can feel the slick slide of your inner thighs. He pumps his cock lazily, giving you a look that says he doesn’t believe you. “You’re pretty.”

“Think so?”

You nod, a little light-headed and uneven. You tilt toward the side and he catches you, hands sticky from your mixed arousal. Bending down, you capture his lips. Hoseok runs the crown of his cock through your folds and you moan, lips parting. He drinks in your sounds, licking them from the roof of your mouth. 

For a moment, it’s just the teasing and sloppy kissing, pausing to pant into each other's mouths, slick from sweat. He presses the blunt head of his dick into your hole, dipping only a little before retreating and sliding back up to tease your clit.

“Hoseok,” you growl, biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the iron tang blooming in your mouth. He hisses out a laugh and does it again. This time, you lower your pussy, trying to catch him on an angle to sink down on him. “Stoooop.”

“Whiny baby,” he teases again. “Cock-hungry, huh?”

“Wanna be full.”

“Mmm.”

Hoseok repeats the motion, but this time lets you sink slowly on the length of him. The stretch stings, hurt-laced pleasure as you suck in a sharp breath and hold it. It feels like your lungs might burst, shaking as you slide down until your ass rests on his damp thighs and you feel the tip of his cock deep in your gut. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, leaning forward, palms pressed to his shoulders. They slide a little, his skin warm and sweaty. You dig your nails in for purchase and he sucks in a sharp breath, but lets you claw your way back to sanity from the feeling. “Deep.”

His hands find purchase on your ass, digging in and massaging. “Come on, then. You were so eager for my fingers.” 

You lift your hips a little, the slide delicious against your warm walls, and drop down with a wet smack. You both moan at that and you grin, putting the weight into Hoseok’s shoulders as you lift your hips again, hypnotized by the wet schlick of your cunt sliding on his length. 

Everything fades away again. Your thighs burn as you increase your movements, chasing the buzz that has settled deep in your stomach. Hoseok lets you use him, his eyes fixed on the way your cunt drips into his lap. 

His nails bite into the meat of your ass and you feel dragged under by the pleasure, the sting of his grip and the pressure of his cock hitting your g-spot sending you further and further.

Your legs grow a little tired, movements sloppy. Hoseok doesn’t mind, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting upward to meet you, hands supporting your weight under your ass. He helps lift you, pulling you up and down until you’re mumbling incoherently. 

It feels mind-numbingly good, and the tension in your stomach grows taught and tight, your second orgasm oncoming. 

“Come on,” Hoseok demands between clenched teeth. “Give it to me.” 

You nod, sliding a hand between your thighs, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure and speed to get you shaking again. White spots appear in your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take over and fuck up into you, cunt gushing as you come hard enough around him that you fall forward. 

Hoseok lets you lay on his chest, dead weight as he claws at your ass and thighs, rutting up into you. You’re dimly aware of the soaked mess of your smacking bodies, but your ears are ringing and you feel lighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

You begin to whine in oversensitivity just as Hoseok slams into you as deep as he can, cock twitching and filling you up. You shiver as he grunts, hips bucking with a wet squelch as he gently fucks you through his orgasm.

Both of you lay there in a messy pile as his cock softens inside of you. Cum pools between your pressed bodies, but you don’t care. The room is humid, the light dim with the haze of how far gone you feel. Hoseok traces soft circles on your hips with his fingers. Your mouth is pressed against his jaw, breath kissing his skin. 

You could fall asleep here, you think. It’s nice to forget for a while, to let your body feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, the shaking of his thighs against yours, the ache in your muscles. 

Heaviness tugs at you, so close to pulling you under, but Hoseok stirs. You feel drunk, letting him peel the two of you apart until you’re stumbling to the shower. The air makes your tacky, cum-covered skin cold. 

It’s hard to fit both of you in the shower, but you manage it, rotating under the rough spray of the hot water, hands exploring and kneading sore muscles. Your lips are abused and feel bruised, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking the comfort of his mouth, the world turning to static every time you kiss him. 

The motel room smells like sex and sweat when you return to peel clothes back on. Wordlessly, Hoseok takes your hand and leads you to his room on the other side of the wall. It has the same faded wallpaper, the same dusty and stained lampshades, but it looks more lived in.

There are added pieces in the room. A dehumidifier hums in the corner, and there is a hamper full of clothes. Hoseok has added plants near the window, plasticky leaves vibrant green and shiny. Burnt-out incense sits on the plastic folding table he’s erected, books and papers splayed out over its surface. There’s a collection of crystals you can’t identify.

An inviting bed beckons you. You both fall into it, heavy-limbed and sighing. It smells like Hoseok, a mix of rain and lavender. There’s a sense of trepidation as you roll over on the mattress.

Carefully, Hoseok pulls you to him. He presses your back to his chest, one arm going under his head as he yawns and smacks his lips lightly, the other looping over your waist.  

“No one is going to bother you,” he sleep-slurs. “I got rid of them. And they won’t go against me.”

You hum, sleep crawling up and stealing your thoughts. You wonder how he got rid of them and why they’re afraid of him. 

It isn’t until he mumbles a response that you realize you’ve spoken your question out loud. “Because,” he sighs, words slow and soft, as he drifts off to sleep. “I told them you’re mine.” 

Hoseok’s words are lost on you because you’re long asleep. 

-

No dreams disturb you. When you wake up, you feel the weight of the night before on you. It’s cool and empty behind you as you startle, realizing you’d fallen asleep with Hoseok there. You look over your shoulder, blinking away sleep, and see that it’s just you in the dark room.

From the bathroom, you can hear the shower. You relax a little, groaning as you roll to your back and stare up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Your thighs still burn with the soreness from the night before and you bite your bottom lip, trying to conceal your grin. 

Gently, you bring your hand to prod at your neck where it had hurt so much last night. You remember the lock-limb nightmare, the feeling of needing to scream. The thought that you were dying. 

Hoseok had saved you, but it begged the question of how. You remember asking him last night, but you cannot remember what he answered. You’re also surprised to find that you’re not in any pain from whoever or whatever had attacked you. 

Unease turns your stomach but you decide to crawl out of his bed, wandering around his room. A salt lamp casts an orange glow on his makeshift desk. You’re drawn to the mess on top of it, looking at the stacks of books and frowning. They’re not in English - or any language that you know, embossed symbols and shapes on the covers and cracked spines. 

Lifting a heavy, green canvas book, you flip it over in your hands. The edges of the paper are yellow and oxidized with time and there is a gold symbol pressed on the front. Your fingers trace the groove, remembering what Hoseok said the day before about sacred geometry. 

Putting it down, you select another book. It has a pentagram on it. When you flip the book open, the pages are filled with slanted writing, diagrams, and shapes. You recognize sabbat dates and stop when you get to a picture of interlocking shapes. You trace the symbol absently, wondering what it means. 

Why does he have books like this? 

A current of electricity slides up the finger that’s tracing the symbol. You squeak in surprise and drop it, cringing at the loud clatter that it makes against the table. The shower flips off and you look at the shut door. Hoseok moves around before opening the door, sticking his head out. He’s dripping in water, hair slicked back, golden skin glistening. 

Despite the night before, you avert your eyes, shy. He doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything, instead asking. “You okay?” He glances down at the books. “Good luck reading those.” 

“Yeah,” you answer absently.

He grins. “Be out in a second.”

When Hoseok shuts the door, you feel unsettled. Rubbing your arms to fend off a sudden chill, you continue looking through the things on his table. There’s a small glass case with the exoskeleton of a frog. You cringe, thinking about Hoseok’s pet frog awaiting death in his pitcher plants.

Hoseok’s phone starts vibrating on the desk, making you gasp. Your hand goes to your chest, feeling the way your heart pounds violently against your rib cage. Looking at the screen, you see that someone named Yoongi is calling him. 

You hesitate, cocking your head. The name rings familiar, and you watch as the call goes to voicemail. The screen fades to black but you keep staring at it. Not for the first time on your trip, you get the sense that you’re missing something, that there is something right there. 

A text from Yoongi comes in, lighting up the screen. 

Jung, you better not be fucking around with your prey again. We need to prepare. 

It doesn’t sit well with you. When the screen goes dark, you tap it, bringing up the preview. What the hell does Yoongi mean fucking around with your prey? And what are they preparing for? You swear you remember the name Yoongi, retracing your thoughts. 

You feel the blood drain from your face. You do know that name. 

“Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you had asked him. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

Slowly, you stiffen, remembering Hoseok’s words after breakfast. It had seemed silly then, that Hoseok was talking about a cat. But it’s not the only place you’ve seen Yoongi’s name. 

Trust your gut, your sister always said. 

You look at the bathroom door once before turning on your heel and creep from the room. You pull the front door open slowly, wincing and holding your breath as the outside world makes noise. Slipping through, you’re careful not to let the door click loudly before running to your room. 

With the same care, you shut your door, flipping the bolt lock and sliding the chain in the door. The room feels like it’s spinning, your tunnel vision making you dizzy as you sweep your gaze back and forth, looking for the piles of your sister's research. It’s sitting on the floor, shoved off the bed where you let him fuck you last night. 

The urge to vomit flips your stomach as you dive for the papers, riffling through them and scanning, feverish and sweaty. You find the entry you want, finger pressing to the page as you read it multiple times, fear making the words tangle.

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe to see him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Yoongi. 

A sick feeling coils in your stomach as your hands tremble, eyes scanning the list of names your sister scribbled out as old families in Kill Devil. There’s another one you remember, the one that Yoongi used in his text to Hoseok. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon.

Min.

A shaking hand presses to your mouth. Jung. “Fuck,” you squeak, looking at the wall separating you from Hoseok’s room.

It occurs to you that all this time, you thought the citizens were looking at Hoseok with contempt. How easily hatred can be confused for fear. Hoseok, who had shown up every time you were having a night terror. Who seemingly knew all the right things to do to ease you.

Hoseok, who had flashes of darkness that terrified you. Whose expression could go blank as he thought about something, but flip on a dime to a bright, sunny boy. Hoseok, whose presence always gave you a weird tingle, triggering some sort of instinct you couldn’t place. 

Something happens then. With absolute certainty and a razor-sharp resolve that you’ve never experienced, you know your sister is dead. Perhaps you’ve always known. The sudden burning of your locket that night two months ago, the way that it looks like she ceased to exist. The eerie feeling dogging you, nipping at your heels. 

Hanna is dead. The pain is only sharp for a second, a slice of agony as you bend over, arms wrapped around your stomach as you let out a silent scream. The grief is powerful but abrupt as you hear Hoseok call your name on the other side of the wall. 

You stand. Because now you can’t mourn. Now, you must leave as quickly as possible. Because you hadn’t been trusting your gut, ignoring that weird little sense of something wrong. 

Now isn’t the time to scream over what you know. Now you must get away from-

“Was it the books or the phone call?” 

You whirl around. Hoseok is leaning against the wall by the door. The bolt is still flipped and the chain is still in place. You’re frozen to the spot, staring at him. He looks at the papers on the floor and back to you, smirk razor-sharp. Of course, he could get into the room without opening the lock. 

All of the features you thought were beautiful are suddenly terrifying. “It took you way too long to puzzle it together, but I guess you’re not nearly as smart as Hanna.” You open your mouth but nothing comes out, throat constricted. “You were so easy to convince though, so I guess that’s something.”

“I don’t…” your voice is raspy, shaking. 

“When you kept calling the city officials, I knew it was only time before you showed up here. I’ve been living in this fucking shit hole waiting.” He tsks and shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took you forever.”

“The citizens?”

“Stay out of my way and stay out of the Wood. They’re the frogs I let live, so long as I find other ones.”

“Why?” you ask, shaking your head. It’s the only question you can think of. It’s the only question that matters: whywhywhywhy. “Why help me?”

“Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey.” 

It dawns on you that he had said as much at breakfast while he was tracing symbols on the table. He had been talking about his frogs, but he had been talking about you too. How many signs had you missed because he fucking smiled at you? Something dangerous lurking behind light flirting. 

He points to himself. “Pitcher plant.” He points at you with a grin. “Frog. Ribbit.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl, fear replaced by a hatred that burns so hot the edges of your vision flash red. But it isn’t him you’re mad at. It’s you. For being so easily deceived. For being so casually influenced in a matter of days. “Fuck you, and your fucking town.” 

“I did fuck you. You were special, though. I hope that makes you feel better. Didn’t fuck your sister. You’re cute, and I had time to spare.” 

“All of this for what? To get off on the chase? The manipulation?”

He scoffs. “I already told you what this place is. It isn’t my fault you didn’t put it together. I almost hand-fed it to you. The Wood gives us power, and the Wood needs sacrifices.” Hoseok pushes himself off of the wall, his smile like the first light of the morning sun. “I’m taking you to the Wood.”

Masterlist

Reposting or translating my work without my permission is strictly not allowed. Plagiarizing in any form is not appreciated.

Happy reading!

Keys:

F- Fluff

S- Smut

A- Angst

SM- Social Media AU

C- Completed 

Imagines:

Tough love (F,S,A) - Coming soon!

Sometimes all we need is a little tough love.

Imagines:

Sexstasy (S,A) 

He was infatuated by you. Too much for your liking.

Series:

Deception - Mafia AU (F,S,A) 

You were just a pawn in the play. Things took a twisted turn when you fell in love with the one you were supposed to cheat on. He was your mission.Was. Chaos as usual, ensues.       

Imagines:

Hot cop (F) - Coming soon!

You have a very interesting encounter with an insanely hot cop.

Imagines:

Blueberry Muffins (F) 

He’s stressed. You decide to brighten up his day with the one thing that brought you two together.

Imagines:

Make it right (A)

You both have made it through the ups and the downs. Life is now testing you big time, will you both make it, one last time?

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

cheering hearts - j.hs.

genre : fluff (award show au!) (3.5k)

summary : you have a big, pathetic crush on jung hoseok.

masterlist

you sat down with your group, tugging your infuriatingly short dress down, trying not to reveal anything for strategically placed cameras, you've tuned out the loud cheers and bright lights by now, you turn to glance around the crowd, noticing more than a few lightsticks of your group, a warm smile spreads across your face as you eye your fans lovingly, very grateful for their support.

you heard your members murmuring about the next performances, you only cared about one performance anyway so you focused on bowing and giving polite smiles to your fellow idols. all of them looked dashing, in sparkling dresses and well-fitted suits. you smiled brightly at your friends and had small conversations with them to pass the time.

then you heard the cheers get significantly louder and the waving of lightsticks got more intense and almost hypnotizing. that could only mean one thing.

they were here.

your member and friend, suya nudged you with darting eyes and you immediately looked around to see the seven men enter the area, intimidating faces with an air of power surrounding them. you stiffened, trying to prepare yourself to see him.

jung hoseok.

your crush since god knows when.

all your members knew and often teased you about it, not in public of course because that could get you slaughtered almost immediately. you tried not to give your posture away, knowing the multiple fancams that were watching your every move, your hands tightly twisting each other in nervousness and eyes trying not to glance at him but failing.

you finally gave in and saw him, looking as incredible as ever. he was wearing a light grey suit, a crisp white shirt peeking underneath, and a thick belt cinching his petite waist, hair brushed to the side and away from his pretty face, his features seemed to be highlighted with the slight pink tinging his lips and his gaze was as sharp as ever. you remember him, as he probably does you too, you spent many of your trainee days together, going over your dance practices, exchanging ideas for lyrics even if it was frowned upon by your respective entertainment companies.

you felt it, your heart racing wildly and goosebumps rising, stomach sinking in the best way possible, the feeling all too familiar, something you've experienced for years now, yeah you definitely didn't let go of your crush. you quickly turned your head, keeping your eyes focused on the performance. you had no idea which song it was but you still bopped your head to the beat, forcing your breathing pattern to be more calm.

out of your periphery, you noticed them greeting everyone with varying smiles, polite smiles to idols they didn't know enough, and happy eye smiles to their friends, exchanging short conversation with them before heading in your group's direction.

oh no.

your eyes quickly found the seven vacant seats right behind you and you cursed whoever was responsible for the seat arrangement. you sunk into your seat, wanting to hide away or run back home, you could still see them occupied with others, and suya smirked at you, thoroughly amused with your reaction and the situation. then the leader of your group reminded you to sit straight and at least try to hide your flustered state. you scolded yourself for forgetting to be professional and sat up straight, composing yourself again.

soon, bangtan sonyeondan was right in front of you, they all bowed, making sure to lock eyes with every member, showing their sincerity and also maybe their secret way to make anyone feel weak, you were doing fine until your crush locked eyes with you, giving you an eye smile at recognition.

your smile faltered in his gaze, blushing cheeks very obvious but hopefully, people would pass it as makeup, as for your lovesick eyes, well hopefully they can blame it on the eyeliner. you bowed and he did too, looking up at you with a small smile which didn't help the pounding in your heart, you returned a weak smile in return, your insides fluttering with every passing second.

just like the moment started, it ended, they were soon seated comfortably behind you, the cheers hadn't died down since their arrival, their ARMY never calming down and honestly, you understood how they felt with all your heart.

i wish i could scream out loud right now too.

you tried not to shift so much, you could feel your dress riding up again and groaned. as if you didn't have enough problems already. the rest of your members had been sharing blankets, trying to cover their skin too but there were not enough blankets to share with you and suya, so you both agreed to at least let the others be covered. then you felt a slight nudge to your shoulder, you turned around in instinct to see hoseok handing you a blanket with a gentle smile on his face, eyes slightly shifting to your exposed legs before pushing the blanket over, you gave him a grateful smile and with shaking hands, took the blanket, being careful as to not let your fingers touch (you didn't need a heart attack) immediately covering your's and suya's legs. she turned back to give him a bow and smile too.

this will be all over the news tomorrow.

"so your crush is both handsome and a gentleman? what a catch" suya leaned over to whisper in your ear, giggling at your reddened face but you just shook your head, keeping your focus on the performances to avoid the jitters creeping on your body.

yeah, i wouldn't survive a conversation with him.

you were surprised you used to spend all that time with him back in the day and now you can't even look at him without internally spasming. behind you, you could hear his honey-like voice commenting about something occasionally, or laughing with his friends, and how you loved that sound.

soon, it was their turn to perform and you were literally bouncing to see it, they never disappointed, always on top of their game in terms of vocals and choreography, even their props were some of the best, you were not alone though, every fandom, every idol, looked forward to see them perform. you had to keep reminding yourself of the multiple fancams, you had to be cautious and not let a single emotion show on your face and that was okay, you were trained for this.

then you heard the music, and you watched with wide eyes and mouth slightly ajar as they effortlessly shifted from song to song, each performed with the same punch, the same power, you were worried that they might get too tired later, that's how vigorous the choreography looked. you had to admit, you spent almost the entire time only looking at hoseok, his intense gaze much more prominent during the performances, his sharp steps, you always admired his dance. it was undeniable that he knew just how to move his body and you were never more in awe.

you thought they blew the roof off last year, but this time, they absolutely obliterated the stage, completely claiming every inch of it and deep down, you felt really proud of hoseok, he always dreamed big and to see him live his dreams made you very happy.

when they finished, the entire venue erupted in loud cheers and screams, their fanchant being repeated again and again, idols around you clapping loudly just like you, and they looked incredibly happy too, tired definitely but the adrenaline still ran through them as they exited the stage. you wanted to get up and scream at the pure energy you felt from just watching the performance but refrained from it by just forcing a tight, barely containable grin much like all the idols. you had to blend in. your members got up, signaling that it was time for you to get ready for your stage too, you quickly followed them, eager for your performance.

backstage, you were more than a little scared that you might run into hoseok, so you hid behind your members or urged suya to cover you as you walked.

"hey suya!" you heard and internally groaned, knowing she'll abandon you now, suya excitedly greeted them too, leaving your hand, so you chose to just duck and move around until you reached your dressing room, just when you were about to grab the handle and enter, you heard a loud announcement of your name, you froze, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. you turned around to see hoseok heading your way with a large grin.

"hey you" he was sweaty, slightly out of breath, but still looking as bright as ever, and you waved back pathetically and then he stopped right in front of you.

good lord, he looked even better up close.

"hey hoseok" he gave a disapproving look at that.

"come on, you've always called me hobi" he reminded you and you nodded sheepishly.

that you did, but you just couldn't focus on anything when his shirt was slightly see-through from the sweat and you had to keep forcing your eyes on his face. you were just hoping he didn't notice.

"right, hobi" you murmured loud enough for him to hear and he grinned in response.

"see, much better" he beamed and your heart hammered against your chest.

"anyway, when is your performance?" he asked, sipping from his water bottle in an almost sinful way, you cleared your throat before answering.

"after two more groups" you answered, hating how your voice seemed to break a little in the middle and he nodded, thankfully not noticing it. he turned around when he heard his members calling for him and he signaled to them that he'll be there, your palms were getting sweaty so it was good that he had to leave, he looked at you with an almost apologetic smile.

"i'll leave you to prepare then, you'll do great don't worry, good luck y/n" he gave the last of his endless heart-stopping smiles and you thanked him quietly, then watched as he made his way to his group, his presence in a room was so strong that everyone turned to look who the tall glass of handsome was. you sighed, mentally slapping yourself for how awkward you were, and your mind kept replaying the incident in flashes, the conversation, his face never leaving your thoughts even as multiple brushes tugged your hair, other brushes gliding across your face and hands fitting things on your body.

about 20 minutes from your performance, you went over the choreography and songs again, making sure everything was perfect, sure you had a big, fat crush on jung hoseok but you were also a professional, you were still an idol that wanted give your everything to the performance. before you knew it, you were ushered onto stage and your song started playing, you gave it your all, making sure that your moves were fluid and graceful, that your voice was at the right pitch and tone, that your face was making the right expressions, all the while worrying about your tight and uncomfortable skirt riding up and your top suffocating your breath but you powered through like every idol did. and just like that, your group was posing as ending fairies and you were done.

you were definitely out of breath, as staff rushed to fan you and give your group water bottles, your group leaned on each other for support and quickly were escorted to your respective dressing rooms. you felt so much relief when the tight clothes were pried off your body but it was short-lived as they put you back in your tight dress and heels.

soon, the actual awards show started when you were seated again, your poor legs finally getting some rest, BTS winning almost everything, only leaving out the awards which they were not nominated in, this had you brimming with pride, almost crying at their acceptance speeches, it was clear how hard they had worked to get to here. and hoseok looked so ecstatic, quite literally shining even in an all-black outfit, he kept looking towards the crowd, smiling at the waving ARMY bombs. your group had won an award too and you were close to crying as your leader gave the acceptance speech, you did the same with your fans, grinning at them, promising that you'll work even harder for them.

it was time to take the final group picture with all the idols and then they would leave to separate after-parties, everyone gathered on the stage, happily embracing and congratulating each other, you made small talk with your other friends, promising to meet for lunch dates when your schedule allows it. you noticed that everyone started getting ready for the picture, huddling together and your friends dragged you with them to the front, the male idols all crouched in the front or sat down, some even standing in the back.

you bent a little so that people in the back would be shown too, you didn't even notice hoseok not even two feet away from you, he noticed you though and turned to look up at you as you happily laughed at whatever your friends were saying, he felt the familiar warmth spread across his cheeks so he quickly turned back around. feeling someone looking at you, you confusedly looked around, trying to find out the source but shrugged it off. multiple flashes went off, triggering your headache and you just wished that this would be over so you can change to more comfortable clothes.

the ceremony wrapped up and you could see how relieved everyone was without cameras and lights surrounding them, many were very excited for the after parties and so were you, you always had a good time with your members and friends, you were also sure that hoseok wouldn't be at the same after-party as you but maybe you were wrong, you were none the wiser though. you got changed into a more flowy dress and boots, and you were on your way to the club with your members, all of you were a little tipsy but not enough to be drunk.

the club was filled with idols, being reserved for only them today, and there was heavy security to make sure no sasaengs would enter it, and you were all giggles entering it. almost immediately drinks were placed in your hands and you drank while taking a look around, trying to find your friends but almost spit your drink out when you saw hoseok and the rest of BTS scattered around the room.

they never come to this club, in all these years of award shows, they've always gone to the one across the city, so what the fuck were they doing here?

you quickly ducked, trying not to be seen by hoseok, walking away from the center of the room and into the bathroom after you gave your drink to suya to watch.

in the bathroom, you kept pacing, your mind was in shambles, if you'd known he was coming, you would've dressed better or you would've prepared yourself in some way. you took a deep breath, convincing yourself you can't stay in this bathroom for the rest of the time so you had to gather yourself and just make sure that he didn't see you, so you would have to spend the night ducking away and hiding.

sounds fun, you muttered bitterly to yourself before pushing your way out.

"hey, i was looking for you" you heard from your right, and you hated that you knew who it was, you quickly glanced to see him, leaning against the wall, drink in hand, sleeves pushed back, jacket resting on his shoulder, and you tried to hide that you were literally ogling him.

"y-you were?" you nervously stuttered, hands already pressing against each other, he seemed to smirk at you and you wanted to take a picture to keep for the rest of your life.

"yes y/n, i was" he said, sounding almost smug as he folded his arms across his chest and your mind went blank at how hot he looked.

"for what?" your voice surprisingly remained calm and steady, hoseok scratched the back of his neck while hesitating to reply, his confidence seemed to evaporate.

his nervous habit.

"i was wondering if we could have a drink together?" he looked at you with hopeful eyes and a weak grin on his face and your entire body froze, red creeping on your face, never in a million years, you expected him to ask you for a drink. you internally slapped yourself back to reality and nodded furiously.

"yeah definitely, let's go" and then you were making your way to the bar together, making sure your arms were not touching though you definitely bumped into him a couple of times because of how crowded the club was, each time stuttering out a small apology and him giving you a reassuring smile. you sat down on the bar stool, wanting the ground to swallow you up while simultaneously loving that you were finally spending time with him after a long time, you made small talk until your drinks were given to you.

"i almost forgot, your performance was amazing" hoseok complimented you, you blushed red again, muttering a small 'thank you'.

"you guys absolutely owned the stage, like it was insane, it's like every year you get better and better, i didn't even think that was possible" you gushed and hoseok let out a shy laugh.

"that means a lot coming from you" he said, in a soft tone, locking eyes with you and you felt warm all over, the tingles returning to torture your senses.

"anyway" he clapped his hands, drawing your full attention to him again. you raised your eyebrows in question when he got out of his seat and stood in front of you.

"now that i'm drunk enough to be confident, can we go dance for a bit, you know for old times sake?" he held out his hand for you to take and you swear your heart dropped like a ride on a roller coaster. you put your shaking hand in his and he immediately intertwined them, his hands were soft and invitingly comfortable to hold. you let him guide you to the center of the club and he placed his other hand on the small of your back, turning you around and placing both of his hands on your waist while you put your hands behind his neck.

this felt all too familiar, the small training room which he'd sneak you in and you'd both dance to the most random of songs, you remember all of it, the inside jokes, the childish flirting, the songs you especially liked because he'd pull you close during them, the giddiness of maybe getting caught, you remember it all, almost painfully. you just hoped that he did too.

were we both ever just friends?

maybe, you'd never know, now all that mattered were the loving eyes looking at you and hands holding your body perfectly, it was like the rest of the club disappeared into thin air, it felt like it was only you two trapped in a beautiful pause, the memories flashing all around you.

"i couldn't do this all those years ago but there's something i have to ask you" hoseok whispered, swaying you while making sure only you caught what he was saying. at that moment, you felt like your entire body was on fire, each part warming up dangerously, you didn't even care if he was going to say something about being friends, you were too in bliss to even care about the 'what ifs'. you slowly nodded, giving him an encouraging smile, he seemed to struggle with whatever he wanted to say so you decided to say it instead.

"i like you hobi, not just as a friend" you told him slowly, a broad smile taking over your face, with cheeks hurting, at the sheer relief of having this off your chest, and his eyes widened, his hands gripping you tighter.

"you know, it's rude to interrupt" hoseok teased you but it only made you panic.

shit maybe this was not what he wanted to sa-

he then took one of your hands and laid it across his chest, you felt his racing heart much like yours. you flattened your hand, caressing the area a little.

"i like you too, not just as a friend" he said, leaning in, dangerously close as your noses brushed against each other and you took in a deep breath, feeling nothing but happiness and relief.

"you are just copying me, you need to at least try to be original hoseok" you teased him and he chuckled, kissing your cheek, leaving you slightly stunned.

"it's hobi for you and maybe i can make it up to you by taking you out on a date?" he had a happy glint in his eyes and you acted like you were thinking for a bit, making him push you further against him, both of you laughed and you finally nodded.

"give me a kiss first and i'll think about saying yes" he broke into laughter again before leaning in, aligning your faces.

"anything for you" he mumbled, capturing your lips with his own. your hands went to push into his hair while his roamed your body, the kiss was slow, desperate and sweet.

and your heart never cheered louder.

BTS reaction, Hyung Line: you being clingy / cuddly

a/n: this is my second bts reaction, i hope you enjoy

warnings: swearing, hints at smut, lowercase is intentional, unedited

Bts Hyung line reaction to you being cuddly / clingy

Maknae line

Masterlist

S e o k j I n

the dorm’s heater was broken and unfortunately, winter was approaching and it was approaching fast. the days were darker and much, much colder. the boys seemed mostly unaffected by the lack of heat in the infamous bts dormitory. you on the other hand? not so much.

everyone was dressed in some type of hoodie or jacket and perhaps cuddled up next to some one to keep warm. you had slipped into your favorite sweater Jin owned, his famous pink hoodie. 

the long, long on you at least, sweater had been just barely enough for the past half hour, but as the sun set and sunshine no longer shone through the blinds, shivers began to rack your body. 

you closed your eyes and wrapped the blanket and sweater tighter around you. the living room was not silent, but it wasn’t hella loud either. 

you could hear Overwatch being played by Jungkook and Taehyung in the background along with their slight banter. you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but you could hear Jimin, Hobi, and Namjoon whispering amongst themselves with Yoongi’s head on Hobi’s lap.

as you grew colder by the minute, you began to wonder where your boyfriend was at the moment.

you brought your head up, opened your eyes and looked around the room for Jin. 

Jimin saw your furrowed brows and spoke up, “he’s in the kitchen, noona.”

“ahh, thanks, Chim Chim.” he smiled and hummed in reply.

you wandered into the kitchen and found Jin sitting at the island scrolling through an article on his laptop. 

you found your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head in his upper back.

this is what you were talkin ’ about, he was so much warmer than the couch was. 

“hey there,” he murmured, tilting his head back towards you, a small smile gracing his plump lips.

“hmm,” was the only reply you could muster, finally getting some heat that you had desired.

his warmth seeped through both his and your- actually his again- sweaters. you nuzzled your face deeper into his back, humming in content at his smell and comforting presence.

“you cold, love?” he asked, feeling the chill of your hands through the soft material of his jumper. 

“mhm.”

although you couldn’t see it, he smiled, removing his hands from the granite countertop to take your hands into his own.

he unlocked your hands that had intertwined with themselves and tucked them into his connected front hoodie pocket.

Jin felt you smile against his back as you intertwined your hands with each other again.

he smiles to himself thinking about how cute you are when your cuddly and continued to scroll down the Buzzfeed article that was most likely about food.

Y o o n g I 

Yoongi had been working a lot more recently, composing new songs left and right. he’s been doing so amazing, along with the rest of BTS, with the recent comeback and the end of the Wings Tour. 

listen, you didn’t wanna sound clingy… but goddamn, you missed yo mans. and you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try to gain his attention.

you crept into his room to see him at his computer, his black, noise canceling headphones on, light clicking noises and soft breaths being the only thing filling the quite room.

you felt bad that you were going to startle him in his peaceful, focused state… actually… no you’re not.

you wound your arms around his waist and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. 

he jumped a little, shoving his headphones off and turning his head towards yours.

upon seeing your smiling features, he relaxed into your hold. removing his hands from the keypad and onto your hands that were still resting on his midsection.

“hey,” you mumbled into his neck.

“hey,” he murmured back, “you need something baby?”

“yes.”

“…you gonna tell me what that is, sweetheart?”

“cuddles… with you.”

“i’ve gotta finish this tr-”

“mmmmm,” you hummed loudly over his response, the vibrations cursing through the sensitive skin of his neck, making his relax further into the leather chair and your embrace.

…..

you eventually convinced him he needed a nap, which was not that hard, that boy was always down for a nap.

you sighed contently as he tightened his embrace around your waist and let out a hot puff of air onto the top of your head.

you smiled and giggled, snuggling further into his hoodie clad chest.

“what’s got you so giggly?”

“my man’s paying me attention, what’s there not to be happy about?”

he only hummed in response.

“hyung! Namjoon broke like three glasses when we were emptying the-ahhhh, my eyes! my innocent eyes!” Jungkook interrupted himself as he entered Yoongi’s room, immediately regretting it and slamming the door, running back into the kitchen.

you giggled again, and covered your mouth with one of your sweater paws in an attempt to stifle your laughter.

“I suppose you should go deal with that, babe,” you managed to get out around your giggles.

he only huffed as he unwillingly rose from his place, his has jutting out to tickle your side in an attempt to cease your teasing.

you watched him leave with a smile on your face, patiently awaiting his return.

H o s e o k

Hoseok had invited you out to dinner with the rest of the members. you had agreed vehemently, jumping at the chance to spend time with your adorable boyfriend. 

getting out of the car, you laced your hand with Hobi’s, smiling up at him when he looked down at you. 

entering the restaurant you felt a cold shiver wrack your body. you wrap your arms around the muscular arm that beheld the hand you were holding earlier and cuddle into his shoulder.

the eight of you were set at a table towards the back near a window, the lighting very dim and the moonlight cascading down through the window onto the glittering champagne glasses, creating a relaxing ambiance. 

as everyone looks at the menu you subtly nuzzle your fave into the crook of Hobi’s neck. 

he looks down at you, “are you okay, love?”

you nod against his neck, “it’s just cold in here.”

he chuckled at you and shrugs off his red jacket, “for you m’lady”

“aww, Hobi! that’s so sweet, thank you,” you aww over his gentlemanly-ness and his good hearted nature.

…

as dinner was served and the meal was in full swing, conversation flurrying around the table, you found yourself looking out the window.

you weren’t antisocial, it’s not that you didn’t like the other members - you loved them with all your heart - you were just… sleepy. 

the weight of Hoseok’s jacket on your shoulders, the sent of him wafting off the jacket along with the aroma of the dinner laid on the table in front of you, and the warmth of Hobi’s hand on your thigh made you begin to feel sleepy.

when you were sleepy, you became needy. not sexual needy, but affection needy, and not only affection needy- but Hobi’s affection needy.

your hand slithers from its place on top of Hobi’s hand that’s ontop of your thigh into the crook of his elbow and lift your head from the window onto his shoulder and sigh contently.

he gives you a side glance, then looks back up at Taehyung putting one finger up indicating to give him a second to speak to you.

“are you sleepy, jagiya?”

“mhm.”

“we’re almost done, sweetheart, then I’m all yours,” he hums, kissing the top of your head.

“awww, hyung, your so good to her, where can I find a man like you?” Taehyung giggles, his boxy smile manifesting on his flawless face.

you smile sleeply and burry your face deeper into Hoseok’s shoulder.

…

the two of you had eventually found your way into bed, his arms wound tightly around you and you head buried in his chest and your breaths slow and even, neither of you caring about all the commotion rumbling outside in the dorm’s living room.

N A M J O O N 

Namjoon was driving the two of you back from the studio in your car. you had come to visit him and bring him some dinner and wait for him to finish up whatever he was doing at that moment.

you were pretty sleepy, the two of you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. he’d kept you up with multiple orgasms last night, hey - you weren’t complaining! but despite your love for orgasms, and your dominant boyfriend, he wore you the fuck out.

Namjoon’s thumb began rubbing slow circles on your jean clad knee, his other hand staying at 12 o’clock on the steering wheel.

the combination of his slow circles and the soft music on the radio lulled you into a light sleep, your head rolling to lay on the car window.

“baby, we’re home, it’s time to wake up,” Namjoon’s soft voice and light shake of your shoulder rose you from your peaceful slumber.

once you came to, you brought your loosely curled fists to your eyes and rubbed your eyes lightly. you opened you eyes to see Namjoon to your right, you door open and him crouching down to your level between the car and the car door.

“hey,” he whispered, wanting more than anything not to startle you in your adorable sleepy state.

“wassup,” you slurred back, your brain not yet functioning properly.

“let’s get you inside, yeah?” he murmured to you and he reached over your waking form to unbuckle your seatbelt.

you giggle as his hands brushed your side and his head rests on your breasts for a split second.

he managed to get past your grumbles of ‘i can do it myself, Joonie’ and helped you out of the car. as soon as your sneakers hit the pavement of the driveway and the car door was shut, Namjoon literally swept you off your feet and carried you bridal style into the dorms. 

once you were safely in Namjoon’s room, after he had to endure the plethora of teasing from the other members.

 ‘Ahhh hyung!!’ 

‘cute… I guess’

‘you carry that princess, boi!’ ‘you do too much, Tae’

Namjoon being the gentleman he was, he asked if it was okay to undress you and redress you for bed, you said “boy, you can do more than undress me tONIGHT, if you know what I mean!” then proceeded to plop down onto his bed and burry your head into the pillows.

he took that as a yes.

once he dressed you in a cozy hoodie of his- which was very hard by the way, you continually made grabby hands at him and latching onto his shirt, tugging at the material in an attempt to get him to lay on top of you and cuddle, he slipped into his basketball shorts and stole away into the covers with you.

he pulled you closer by your waist, your head immediately nuzzling into his neck, his sent filling your nose instantly, his almost, and I mean almost, unbearable warmth lulling your right back to sleep.

send in requests and feEDBACK, PLS

thank you!! -samantha

life’s sweetest moments

pairing: (bts) ot7 x reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: swearing, probs shitty grammar, THE TERM BITCH IS USED ENDEARINGLY and if that triggers you, sorry,, my friends and I do that so its a habit, plus I think it’s cute....

a/n: ya girl been seein Black-haired Bangtan™️,,, and ya girl has been VERY triggered, they lookin like snaccs,,,, I was also inspired by @hepataetis ‘s jiae’s ot7 head cannons which were *kisses fingertips* beautiful. also... sorry bitches I been GONE I feel soooo bad, dude. this blog has been a desert, I been so gone and I got zeRO excuses. sorry b

masterlist

▫️game night▫️

“boy you needa stop, yo fine ass is cheating so hard right now,” you exclaim as you shield your cards away from Taehyung’s prying eyes.

“bitch! what about him!” Tae exclaims and points at Jungkook accusingly.

you whip your head around in just enough time to see Jungkook quickly look away from your cards which were angled towards him in an attempt to hide them from the original cheater.

“DUDE! what the fuck? you were supposed to NOT cheat on me!” you pout at kookie with a stink eye.

“Woah! whose cheating on our little angel?” Hobi asks as he comes back into the room with Yoongi in tow, caring a large red bowl of popcorn for the six other residents on the floor of the dorm’s living room.

“hey, I thought I was the little angel!” Jimin huffs from the other side of the circle the eight of you had formed.

“you are, baby, the cutest angel we’ve ever seen,” Namjoon smiles at Jimin and pinches his cheek affectionately.

"what about me? what am I, chopped liver?” you joke winking at Jimin, who smiles at you shyly after your wink.

“you’re our little girl.”

your head shoots up at the response. Tae smirks at you as he brings his hand up to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. He leans down and kisses the shell of your ear, hot, wet pants leaving his mouth as he smirked against your ear.

“yah! Tae stop it, this is family friendly game night. does someone need to be put in-between the two of you?” Jin smiled at the two of you, seriousness creeping into his tone. he may or may not have been a little serious at separating the two of you.

once everyone settled down, it was Yoongi’s turn to go. 

“I believe I know who did it, it was the yellow guy-”

“his name is Colonel Mustard.”

“get the fuck outta here, Kook. the murder was Colonel Mustard with the candle stick, in the mother fucking bathroom.” Yoongi pulled out the three cards that were placed in the little yellow confidential folder at the start of the game. he looks at the cards and proceeded to flick them across the room victoriously as he got up and danced his adorable little victory dance.

“damn, I was about to guess the same thing.”

“that’s too bad, babe. ya snooze, ya snooze, Hobi.”

you giggled as Yooni continued to shake around and taunt the others.

you love game night. correction, you love your boys.

▫️soft mornings▫️

your eyes flutter open to see Namjoon beside you still blissfully asleep, his eyes moving behind his eyelids, his eyelashes brushing his cheekbones softly.

the harsh morning rays of the sun filter through the curtains and bathe the room in a soft golden glow. the sunlight makes Namjoon’s skin glow as you admire him through sleepy eyes. 

you raise your hand to lightly brush the hair that had fallen into Namjoon’s eyes. as you rake your hands through his black locks, his eyes flutter open to meet your adoring eyes.

“g’ ‘morning,” he croaks in his husk morning voice.

“a good morning it is,” you smile at the beautiful man in front of you.

you lift your head off the pillow just enough to look around the room in search for the other boy who should be in bed with the two of you as well. but alas, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen. 

the sound of socks sliding then stumbling on the hardwood floor outside in the hallway turn your attention to the door before Jungkoook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin are in the doorway, looking quite disheveled.

Jucgkook’s face light up at the sight of you and Namjoon cuddled up together under the duvet. his smile turns into a smirk as an evil plan formulates in his head.

Jungkook and Taehying smile at each other as they join hands and run creep towards the bed.

“no, don’t, c’mon, its like nine in the morning,” you whine as you realize what the two are up to.

Tae’s boxy smile appears along with Kookie’s bunny smile as they dash to the warm bed in which you reside. the two children men giggle as they jump onto the bed and on to you and Namjoon.

Namjoon smiles sleepily at Jungkook as he wraps an arm around the maknae’s waist after he fell atop the rapper.

Taehyung flashes you his adorable boxy smile as he looks into your eyes that makes you absolutely melt into the bedsheets. you wrap your unoccupied left arm around his neck as his head falls into the crook of your neck and giggles.

Hoseok grins at their antics and spring into the middle of the small dog pile on the soft sheets of the bed. Hobi wiggles himself in between yourself and Namjoon, a very difficult task if I must say. He lays himself on his back as he looks up at Jungkook and Taehyung.

“aish, you guys are too cute.”

the five of you turn your heads towards the voice coming from the doorway. 

Seokjin is standing there in a large, soft pastel pink sweatshirt with handsome embroidered on the left breast accompanied by a small rose. you had gotten it for him for his birthday two years ago. despite it’s two year- and counting- lifespan, it was still in pristine condition thanks to Jin’s delicate care whilst washing it. 

he smiles gently at the sight in front of him, he couldn’t stop grinning if he wanted to.

“breakfast is almost ready, you guys are the last to get up,” Jin winks a the two of you, well aware of the activities that happened in this room last night between you, Namjoon, and Tae. he’s well aware that himself and Jeon did just the same thing in the latter’s bedroom. 

“even Yoongi-hyung is up before you guys,” Hoseok lifts his head up from where it resides in your neck to beam up at you with adoring, sparkling eyes.

Seokjin saunters towards the pile of limbs on the bed and lightly shakes Kooke’s and Tae’s legs, compelling them to get up. the two boys reluctantly untangle themselves from yourself and Namjoon, followed by Hoseok. 

the trio practically bounce of the room, excitement running through their veins at the anticipation of the breakfast Seokjin has prepared for the eight residents in the dorm.

Seokjin sits down beside you on the bed, leans over you, and kisses Namjoon on the forehead and brushes the hair out of his eyes, a product of Jungkook’s playing and messing with it when they were cuddled on top of each other just moments ago. 

Jin then leans down and kisses your forehead and brushes a stray hair behind your ear.

“the others are waiting for you in the kitchen, my loves.”

▫️the arcade ▫️

“we promise we’ll be good! best behavior, we swear it. just, please can we go?” Hoseok pleads with you. the dancer has been itching to play skii-ball and pac-man for what seems like ages. he does not plan on letting up on you anytime in the near future. 

you look up from your book and into Hoseok’s eyes. he's kneeling infront of you with big pleading eyes, eyebrows furrowed with the pout painted on his face. 

you close your eyes and let out a sigh of defeat.

once the sound enters Hobi’s ears, he leaps to his feet and shouts out in victory. this causes a few heads to pop up and broad smiles to spread across the faces of the rest of the boys’ faces. 

“don't get excited too fast, boys,” you say as you shut your book and rise to your feet.

shoulders slump as disappointed sighs and annoyed groans fill the room.

“you seven have to be on your absolute best behavior. I will not be scolded again by Bang for your rowdy behavior like last time. the world is your playground, but sometimes that playground is in public and around other people and have rules about wearing shoes,” you look pointedly at Taehyung, “just pinky swear you bunch will be on your best behavior.”

the boys light up at your statement. shouts of agreement fly out of the hyper boys’ mouths.

Hobi surges forward and swoops you into his arms and swings you around as he giggles in excitement. you smile fondly at his actions, your slight annoyance melting away at the sight of his happiness.

the rest of the boys follow the dancer’s lead and form a group hug around you and bask in the love.

“hyung, come join, we wanna hug you too!” Jungkook exclaims. 

heads turn to look at Yoongi who was hovering around the back of a chair, unsure if he wanted to join the love fest happening in the middle of the living room. 

hearing Kookie call out to him, a small smile forms on his lips as he feels himself go soft, though he would  deny it ever happened if confronted. he saunters towards the seven of you laughing at the cheers everyone lets out.

. : .

things go smoothly at the arcade, much to your surprise. you’ve been at Dave and Busters for about an hour and you’ve decided to take a break and sit at the booth that Tae nicknames home base, cause we’ll comeback here for our food and more money for coins and it’s where we’ll be together, just like our real home!

you’re scrolling on your instagram feed for the time being, you were in dire need of a break from six consecutive rounds of skii-ball with Hobi. 

Yoongi slides in the booth beside you. you look up at him and he smiles down at you. you lean up and slowly mold your lips to his. the kiss is slow as the two of you pour your love into the kiss. you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip affectionately and pull away with a smile. 

he smirks down at you and pulls you closer to his side, his warmth seeping into you, his scent engulfs your senses and lulls you into a relaxed state. 

a few minutes later, the rest of the boys scramble into the booth, their energy giddy with happiness and excitement.  

“have you boys been having fun?” you ask, already knowing the answer from the smiles on their faces.

their smiles grow wider, if that was even possible. the maknae line giggle and scoot closer to each other, smiles so wide their cheeks hurt. they finally look up at you at the same time.

Jungkook and Taehyung glance at Jimin, then at you. Kook nudges Jimin’s side, coaxing him along.

“what are you three hiding?” you eye the trio suspiciously.

“we won you this, noona!” Jimin exclaims as he holds up a small, pink whale plushie. 

you awe and coo over how adorable the three of them are.

“oh, you boys are so sweet, aww, that’s so cute of you guys,” you gush, still glued to Yoongi’s side.

you sit up and lean over the table and accept the plushie from Jimin. you grab his hand in yours before he can retract it and give it a chaste kiss.

Jimin blushes at the praise and sweet kiss with a wide smile.

. : .

as the eight of you eat your meal, you look around the table and smile to yourself. well I'll be damned, these boys are all mine.

-fin-