Hoseok X Reader Smut - Tumblr Posts

hot rod || (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff

warnings: VIRGIN KINK, semi-public fingering, oral (f), brief handjob, unprotected sex, lots of banter

A/N: SMUT WRITTEN BY @httpjeon AKA THE LOML. Photo of hobi originally by twt user GUWOLJK! Thank you to @mortaljin @please-donts @yoongspeach @haroo–mar @ms-universe @usangie-tsukino @attaeboy and @heartweaver for allowing me to use their names!

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“Seriously, why the hell didn’t Joon drive?” Taehyung whined, pressing two fingers against his already swollen eye.

Hoseok let out a chuckle as he slid into his and his boys’ usual booth.

As per tradition, Fridays called for lunch at Rosie’s Diner.

An old woman by the name of Rosie Salinger was the owner of the joint; she had been running the diner since right about around the turn of the 20th century. Her age didn’t mean much it would seem, as she was as notoriously feisty — her tongue and mind as sharp as the red cat-like glasses she sported on the bridge of her nose.

Hoseok let his eyes flicker over to the annoyed blond.

Taehyung was typically the group’s designated driver, but seeing as he no longer had a car — a result of a drag race gone south — Jungkook had driven this time around. Problem was that Jungkook was what one might call an… inexperienced driver.

On the way over to Rosie’s a squirrel had paused in the middle of the road and with Jungkook being the anxious driver that he was his foot found the break pedal abruptly, sending Taehyung straight into the rearview mirror.

Keep reading

feel the rhythm (리듬 느껴) – jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

to dance is to transcend the boundaries of the mundane, where each movement becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of existence. it's an unspoken language, a symphony of the body that speaks directly to the soul. the subtle arch of a back, the delicate glide of a hand, the powerful leap into the air—all gestures that come together to form an intimate dialogue between the dancer and the rhythm that guides them. time ceases to matter, and the dancer becomes both the painter and the painting, expressing emotions that words could never capture. it reveals the deepest truths of the human spirit, inviting all who witness it to feel, to dream, and to connect.

it was impossible to dance without feeling—the music, the emotions awoken—everything. everything mattered. all the greats knew it, whether it was michael jackson or lee taemin, they enjoyed what they did and they perfected it, because they knew how to feel. each note of the music was a heartbeat, each beat a call to move, to express, to live within the moment. the floor beneath their feet became a sanctuary, a sacred space where they poured out their souls, leaving a piece of themselves with every step. this was not just performance; it was raw, unfiltered emotion made visible. to dance was to connect with something larger, something profound. it was an unending pursuit of grace and power, a testament to the beauty of human expression.

“you're bending your knees too much,” you never meant to come off as strict or demanding. in fact, you wanted to do quite the opposite, but you liked to push him. you liked to push him, because you knew he was a natural talent. you knew it, he knew it—everybody knew it. you had been by the group's side ever since their debut; eleven years of choreographing their songs, eleven years as not just the woman who planned out their dances, because you were practically family to them.

there was no favoritism, either. you made sure to work as a team, to push their limits as a whole. you loved them the same and made sure never to critique one member more than the rest, you knew just how to play fair. hoseok just happened to be their best dancer, and everybody was well aware of it. sure, all of them could work with the same choreographies, but none of them could execute them the way he did. it was a matter of passion, above all else. he never flaunted it; in fact, he was too humble. it was one of his most infuriating traits.

his eyes dropped to his knees, flickering between his pose and yours, paying close attention to what he had previously missed. “just a little bit, you see?” he watched your form carefully, noticing the way you put the slightest of pressure on your knees, bending them to the point where it was barely noticeable, before transitioning into the next step. this time, it was your turn to watch. he kept his eyes glued, moving with grace. this time, he did it just right.

“good job, just like that,” you had found yourself showering him with praise. most of the time, you did it because it was well-deserved. sometimes, you did it just to see the smile on his face. like the one he had on just then, it made you smile, too. “again,” you instructed, stepping back to give him room. “from the top.”

hoseok nodded, a small smile lingering on his lips as he reset his position. the music started, and his body moved with the fluidity and precision you had come to expect from him. every step, every turn, every isolated movement was a testament to his dedication and raw talent. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him to perfect every detail. as he danced, you felt a familiar warmth spread through you—a mix of pride and something deeper, something you rarely allowed yourself to acknowledge. the way he danced was mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion and intensity. it was as if the world faded away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you together.

“perfect,” you said softly, as the music came to an end. he was breathing hard, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but his eyes were bright and focused. “thanks,” he replied, a hint of bashfulness in his smile. “your guidance always makes a difference.”

you walked closer, your footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent studio. “you're the one who makes the difference, hoseok. i can only point the way; you're the one who brings it to life.” there was a moment of silence, charged with an unspoken tension. you could see it in the way his eyes lingered on yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly as you approached. it was subtle, but it was there—an intensity that went beyond the dance.

“you make it easy to feel,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. “the way you understand the music, the way you push us to connect with it—it's like you see inside us.” your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. you had always pushed yourself to understand each member, to help them find their own connection to the choreography. but with him, it had always been different, deeper.

“it's because you let me,” you replied just as quietly. “you let me see the real you when you dance. it's a gift, hoseok, and it's beautiful.”

the intensity in his eyes deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with energy. then he broke the gaze, looking down with a shy smile. “let's go again,” he said, but this time, his voice was softer, almost intimate. “let's,” you agreed, stepping back but feeling closer to him than ever.

he moved with the same grace and intensity, but now, each movement felt charged with an unspoken emotion, a palpable tension that neither of you could ignore. you mirrored his steps, guiding him with subtle cues and gentle corrections. the synergy between you was almost electric, and as the music swelled, it felt like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you.

the song neared its climax, and you watched him closely, noting the slight adjustments he made, the way his body responded to the music with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. you couldn't help but be mesmerized by him, by the way he embodied every beat, every note. it was as if you were dancing with the very essence of the music itself.

as the final notes faded, you found yourself breathless, not just from the physical exertion, but from the intensity of the connection you had just shared. hoseok's eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was about to say something, something that could change everything.

before he could speak, the studio door swung open, and a voice broke the spell. “hoseok!”

you turned to see lee bona, his girlfriend, standing in the doorway. she was beautiful, with an effortless elegance that made her presence commanding. you had met her a few times, but it was clear she wasn't fond of you. the way she looked at you now, with thinly veiled jealousy, made that abundantly clear. hoseok's expression softened as he saw her, and he immediately moved toward her, leaving you standing alone in the center of the studio. “bona, hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and affectionate.

she smiled at him, but there was a sharpness in her eyes when they flicked to you. “i thought i'd surprise you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. you forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest. “hi, bona.”

“hello,” she replied, her tone cool. she turned her attention back to hoseok. “ready to go?” he glanced back at you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “sorry, i have to go. we'll pick this up later?”

“of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “go ahead.”

he nodded and, with one last glance, left the studio with bona. as the door closed behind them, you stood there, the silence of the empty studio pressing in on you. you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, the intensity of the dance, the connection you felt, and then the abrupt interruption. how could he have a girlfriend and yet be so intimate with you? the thought twisted something inside you, a mix of frustration and confusion.

to clear your mind, you turned the music back on and started dancing again, but your movements were off, lacking the precision and grace you usually prided yourself on. the frustration bled into your dance, making each step feel jagged and unrefined. you could feel it in your body, the anger and disappointment seeping into your movements.

you didn't realize you had an audience until you heard a familiar voice. “you're dancing like you have two left feet,” namjoon teased from the doorway. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “how long have you been standing there?”

“long enough to see something's bothering you,” he said, walking into the studio with that easy, knowing smile of his. “got a hunch it might be hoseok's girlfriend.”

you scowled at him, trying to brush off the accusation. “it's like you want me to lose my job— strictly professional, joon.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “sure, if you say so. but your dancing says otherwise.” you wanted to argue, to defend the professionalism you always upheld, but you knew he was right. the emotions were too raw, too close to the surface. “it's complicated.”

namjoon gave you a sympathetic look. “i get it. but you know, taking a break might help. we've got the next few days off, and we're heading to a bar tonight. you should come.” you hesitated, the thought of socializing feeling overwhelming right now. but his smile was encouraging, and you knew he was right—you needed to clear your head. “alright, i'll come.”

“good,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “we'll see you tonight then. and hey, try not to think about it too much. things have a way of working themselves out.” you nodded, watching as he left the studio. alone again, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. namjoon was right. for now, all you could do was dance, let the music guide you, and hope that the rest would fall into place.

the evening came, and you prepared for a night out, hoping that some time away from the studio might clear your head. you put on a simple but stylish outfit, something that would let you blend in yet still feel confident. the bar wasn't too far from the studio, so you made your way there, your thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and confusion.

as you entered the bar, you immediately spotted the group. they had secured a large table in a corner, and you made your way over, greeting each of them with a forced smile. the atmosphere was lively, the air filled with chatter, laughter, and the hum of background music. it felt like a world apart from the quiet intensity of the studio, but the tension you carried with you seemed to cling, regardless.

hoseok was already there, seated with his girlfriend by his side. his eyes met yours as you approached, and for a split second, the world seemed to shrink around you. there was something electric in his gaze, a reminder of the connection you had shared earlier. but it was quickly broken when taehyung, always quick with a compliment, spoke up.

“so, your performance with taemin?” taehyung’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “it's an understatement to say you killed it.”

the table erupted in praise, with jimin and yoongi both chiming in to agree. the enthusiasm was palpable, and you managed a genuine smile, though the praise felt hollow. you were used to being recognized for your work, but the absence of hoseok’s usual support stung more than you had anticipated.

jungkook, ever the tease, leaned in with a smirk. “so, what’s the deal with taemin? you two seem pretty close. maybe more than just coworkers?” you laughed it off, the sound feeling forced. “no, it’s nothing like that. we just have a good working relationship, that’s all.”

hoseok’s silence was almost palpable, and it was unlike him. normally, he would have been the first to voice his support or offer a playful comment. instead, he stayed quiet, a tight-lipped expression on his face that made you feel uneasy. then, to your dismay, he finally spoke up with a tone that felt almost accusatory. “she isn’t crazy; that would be totally unprofessional.”

the words stung more than you expected, cutting through you with a sharpness that made you flinch. you forced a nod and tried to mask your disappointment. without saying another word, you excused yourself and made your way to the bar itself, desperately needing a drink to calm your nerves.

you ordered something strong, hoping it would dull the edge of your hurt. as you waited, you could feel hoseok’s eyes on you, even from across the room. it was a constant reminder of the tension that seemed to hang between you like a thick fog.

namjoon noticed your departure and followed you to the bar. he joined you as you sipped your drink, his presence both a comfort and a distraction. “you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but perceptive. you managed a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “yeah, just needed a break.”

he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push. instead, he leaned in, a glimmer of an idea in his eyes. “you know, i think i might have something that could take your mind off things. my friend wonho is working on a solo track, and he needs help with the choreography. would you be interested in collaborating with him?”

you hesitated, the thought of diving into a new project both appealing and daunting. but the distraction might be exactly what you needed. “i’d love to,” you said finally, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “thank you for thinking of me.”

namjoon’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a quick hug. “you're our girl, dancing's your thing. of course i'd ask you.”

as you made your way back to the table, your mind was already spinning with ideas for wonho’s track. you knew that this was a chance to refocus, to move forward from the confusion and disappointment of the evening. and although the night was far from over, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to balance the complexity of your feelings with the passion for your craft.

the next day, the dance studio was alive with activity. the boys were immersed in practice, their movements synchronized in a display of impressive skill and energy. you were usually a central part of these sessions, but today, your absence was noticeable. hoseok seemed particularly restless. his eyes darted to the door every few seconds, as if expecting you to walk in at any moment. it was clear that your absence was affecting him more than he let on. he performed each step with a certain rigidity, a subtle but noticeable contrast to his usual fluidity.

namjoon, who was busy adjusting the playlist, finally broke the silence. “just so you all know, (y/n) is working with wonho on his solo track today. she’s helping him with the choreography.”

the announcement was met with a chorus of supportive remarks and curious glances. taehyung and jin voiced their encouragement enthusiastically, while yoongi and jungkook nodded in approval. however, hoseok’s reaction was markedly different. he remained silent, his face betraying a hint of something—perhaps jealousy or frustration. his movements, which had been sharp and precise before, now seemed to lack the usual confidence, as if he was struggling to find his rhythm without your presence.

the practice session dragged on, and it became increasingly apparent that hoseok was out of sync, his performance reflecting the internal turmoil he was evidently experiencing. the studio buzzed with energy, but his mood cast a shadow over the atmosphere.

back in wonho’s studio, the environment was different—intimate and focused. he was a striking presence, his muscular build and handsome features adding to the allure of the space. the track he played was a vibrant, engaging mix of beats and melodies, capturing your attention immediately. as you listened, the rhythm sparked a flurry of ideas in your mind.

wonho, noting your engaged expression, smiled warmly. “so, what do you think?” you took a deep breath, trying to articulate your thoughts. “the track is amazing. it’s got this incredible energy, and i think it could really move people.”

he leaned in slightly, curiosity evident in his eyes. “is something on your mind? you look like you’re thinking about something more than just choreography.”

it was then that the lyrics of the song began to make themselves heard more clearly—romantic, heartfelt, and deeply personal. they spoke of love, longing, and vulnerability, and you couldn’t help but think of hoseok. the connection you had with him, the moments you shared, seemed to echo in the song’s verses, making your heart ache with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated.

seeing the change in your expression, wonho chuckled softly. “is the song that bad?” you shook your head quickly, trying to dispel any misunderstanding. “oh, no, not at all. it's actually beautiful. but the lyrics—you must really love the girl you wrote it for.”

his laughter was warm and knowing. “loved, actually. we all need our hearts broken at least once. it helps us understand the depths of emotion and fuels our craft.”

his words resonated with you. you had always known that art and emotion were deeply intertwined, but hearing it from someone who had clearly experienced such passion and pain firsthand struck a chord. you pondered his insight, considering how heartbreak and longing were universal experiences that shaped the art of dance just as much as they did music.

“thanks for sharing that,” you said, a touch of gratitude in your voice. “it’s really insightful.” he nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. “of course. it’s all part of the journey. now, let’s get to work on this choreography. i’m excited to see what we can create together.”

as the day wore on, the intensity of your focus in wonho's studio created a palpable buzz of creativity. the music played, its infectious beat filling the space with an energy that pushed you to explore new movements and ideas. you felt a deep sense of connection with the track, and as you freestyled, you let your body respond to the rhythm naturally.

the studio was a sanctuary, its large mirrors reflecting your every move as you danced. you moved with fluidity and passion, the music guiding your steps as you interpreted the emotions of the song. each movement seemed to flow effortlessly into the next, and you could see that he was mesmerized by your performance. his eyes followed you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, clearly impressed by the way you embodied the music.

as the track continued, you paused to catch your breath and turned to wonho. “when i listen to this song, i see a story unfolding—you can really tell you put your heart into it.” he nodded, absorbing your words. “that’s exactly what i hoped for with this track. i’m glad it’s coming across that way.”

he took a deep breath and stepped onto the floor, beginning to dance to the music. his movements were solid but lacked the fluidity you had come to expect from him. there was a hint of hesitation in his steps, as if he was holding back. “i’m sorry if my dancing isn’t up to par,” he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. “i’m just trying to match the energy of the track, but i feel like it’s not quite there.”

you watched him with a critical eye but offered a reassuring smile. “no, it’s not shabby at all. your movements are strong and controlled, and you have a natural rhythm that really complements the song. it’s just a matter of getting more comfortable with the dance. you’ve got a lot of potential.”

his face brightened at your praise, and he seemed to find a new confidence in your words. with renewed determination, he threw himself into the dance with greater enthusiasm, his movements becoming more expressive and in tune with the music. it was clear that your encouragement had a significant impact on him, and the energy in the room shifted to a more dynamic and creative flow.

as the hours passed, you continued to work closely with him, shaping the choreography and refining the details. you found yourself deeply engaged in the process, enjoying the collaborative effort and the creative synergy that flowed between you. with each passing moment, the choreography began to take shape, the intricate movements and transitions coming together to create a compelling visual narrative.

by the end of the day, you had crafted a substantial majority of the choreography. the routine was vibrant and expressive, capturing the essence of his track while allowing room for individual interpretation. both of you were satisfied with the progress, and the atmosphere in the studio was one of accomplishment and mutual respect.

as you wrapped up, he turned to you with a warm smile. “thank you so much for your help today. i couldn’t have done this without you.” you returned his smile, feeling a genuine sense of satisfaction. “it was my pleasure. the track is incredible, and it was great working with you on this.”

his gratitude was evident as he stepped forward and gave you a hug. the embrace lingered a bit longer than you might have expected, but you could sense his appreciation and warmth. for a moment, you found yourself enveloped in his presence, the hug carrying an unexpected intensity.

when he finally pulled back, you smiled at him, trying to keep the moment light. “why don’t you come to the studio tomorrow? we can show namjoon and the boys the dance. i think they’d love to see it.” wonho’s eyes lit up with excitement. “that sounds great! i’d love to. thanks for the invitation.”

you exchanged a few more pleasantries and packed up your things, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. the collaboration with him had been both invigorating and rewarding, and you looked forward to sharing the results with namjoon and the rest of the team. he had done you a favor, successfully giving you the perfect distraction.

the next day, the studio was bustling with activity as the boys prepared for their practice session. the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and excitement, not just for the usual routines but also for the special showcase you had promised. as you walked into the studio with wonho by your side, the energy in the room shifted. the boys, who had been engrossed in their own discussions, looked up and greeted you with enthusiastic smiles.

“hey, everyone! i’m excited to introduce you all to wonho,” you announced with a bright smile. “he’s been working on a solo track, and we’ve put together some choreography that we’d love to share with you.”

namjoon’s eyes lit up with genuine interest as he walked up to his friend, greeting him with a smile. “awesome! can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

the rest of the boys gathered around, their expressions ranging from curiosity to eagerness. all of them were practically animated, their faces practically glowing with anticipation. they exchanged excited glances, while the atmosphere felt charged with a positive buzz. hoseok, however, stood apart from the group, his posture rigid and his expression noticeably cold. it was evident that he was struggling to mask his jealousy. he avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on the floor as if deep in thought. his mood was palpable, casting a subtle shadow over the otherwise upbeat environment.

with everyone’s attention now focused on the dance floor, you and wonho took your places. the music started, and as the track played, you began to move with a fluidity that matched the rhythm. he followed your lead, his movements synchronized with yours in a dance that was both captivating and dynamic. the choreography was intricate, a blend of powerful movements and tender moments. as the routine progressed, you felt the connection between you and him deepening, the dance becoming a dialogue of its own.

the final segment of the routine featured a particularly intimate move, a moment where wonho’s face came close to yours, his arm wrapped around your waist while your arm rested around his neck. it was a close, personal space that spoke volumes without the need for words.

as you and him executed the move, the rest of the boys erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement evident. the clapping and shouting filled the studio, a testament to the impact of the performance. however, hoseok remained unmoved. he watched the dance with a look of barely contained irritation, his expression darkening as the routine came to its climactic end.

when the final beat of the track echoed through the studio, wonho pulled away with a grin, clearly pleased with the reaction. you joined in the applause, your heart racing from the intensity of the performance. the boys continued to cheer, their enthusiasm unwavering.

it was in that moment that you noticed hoseok’s abrupt departure. he slipped out of the studio quietly, his departure almost unnoticed by the others who were still caught up in the excitement of the moment. the change in atmosphere was subtle but undeniable—his absence left a void, a silence that seemed to seep into the corners of the studio.

unable to shake off the uneasy feeling, you excused yourself from the group and stepped out into the hallway. the corridor was quiet, the distant hum of the studio music a faint echo against the walls. you followed the path hoseok had taken, your footsteps soft against the polished floor.

when you found him, he was leaning against the wall, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. he was close to the door, and the hallway was dimly lit, casting shadows that seemed to enhance the tension in the air. “hoseok,” you called out softly, approaching him with a concerned look. “is everything alright?”

he didn’t immediately respond, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding your eyes. the silence stretched between you, filled with an intensity that was almost palpable. the air seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken emotions. you took another step closer, your voice tinged with worry. “is something wrong? you left so suddenly.”

he turned his head slightly, his face close to yours but still distant. the coldness in his demeanor was striking, a stark contrast to the warmth of the studio. “i have to go,” he said, his voice low and edged with finality.

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between the emotions he was trying to hide and the reality of the situation. there was a distance between you, both physical and emotional, that felt almost unbearable.

before you could say anything further, he pushed off the wall and turned away, walking briskly down the hallway. his footsteps echoed in the silence, a sound that seemed to resonate with the intensity of the moment. you watched him leave, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration. the confrontation had been brief, but it left a lingering sense of unease. the hallway felt colder now, his absence creating a void that was difficult to fill.

hoseok stepped out of the studio, the cool air of the evening brushing against his face. the weight of the conversation with you lingered in his mind, intertwining with the knowledge of his upcoming meeting. he glanced at his phone, the message from bona still visible on the screen. she had asked him to meet her at a nearby coffee shop, a request he couldn’t ignore despite his current state of emotional turmoil.

he walked briskly through the quiet streets, his thoughts consumed by the unresolved feelings between you and the burden of his relationship. the coffee shop was a cozy, dimly lit place, a stark contrast to the chaos of his mind. as he approached, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before entering.

she was already seated at a corner table when he arrived. her face lit up with a smile as she saw him, but the joy in her eyes quickly faded when she noticed the tension in his posture. hoseok forced a smile as he joined her, slipping into the chair across from her. “hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “hey,” she replied softly, her eyes searching his face for some sign of what was troubling him. “i'm glad you could make it.”

they sat in silence for a few moments, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. hoseok’s thoughts were racing, but he tried to focus on the present. he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small box, placing it gently on the table between them. it contained the necklace he had bought for her, a symbol of their relationship that now felt like an anchor weighing him down.

her eyes fell on the box, and she reached for it with trembling hands. her fingers traced the delicate chain as she opened the box and saw the necklace inside. there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“i’ve been thinking a lot lately. about us. And I don’t know how to say this, but,” her voice broke, and tears began to well up in her eyes. “i think it’s time for us to break up.”

his heart sank, but he remained stoic, his face a mask of calm. the news was not unexpected, yet it still felt like a blow. he had long sensed the disconnect, and although he had wanted to avoid the confrontation, he knew deep down that this was a resolution he had been avoiding. he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of resignation and relief. “it isn't the same anymore, i know,” he said quietly, his voice steady. he did know, and he knew how bad he had wanted out of the relationship—he just didn't want to hurt her. “i know.”

she looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. the silence between them was charged, but hoseok knew it was time to act. he stood up, walked around the table, and gently placed the necklace around her neck. the gesture was tender but lacked the warmth it might have once held. it was a final act of kindness, a way to end things on a note of respect.

as he stepped back, he saw the tears streaming down her face. he offered a faint, almost bittersweet smile before turning to leave. his steps were purposeful and steady, but inside, his mind was elsewhere. the thoughts of you, the dance, and the unresolved feelings he harbored for you filled his mind, pushing out any remnants of his prior relationship.

leaving the coffee shop, he felt a peculiar sense of liberation. it wasn’t joy, but rather a profound relief—a space now open for him to confront his own feelings and desires. the end of his relationship with was, in a twisted way, the best gift she could've given him. it was an opportunity to pursue what he truly wanted, what he truly felt.

the studio was a haven of solitude and focus as you danced alone. the space was dimly lit, the lights casting long shadows that accentuated the precision of your movements. the choreography you were working on was demanding, a complex sequence of steps that required both grace and strength. you moved effortlessly, your body translating the intricate patterns of the dance into a fluid expression of emotion. each step, each turn, was executed with a blend of determination and elegance, a testament to your skill and dedication.

unbeknownst to you, hoseok was watching from outside the studio, his eyes fixed on your every movement. he stood in the doorway, hidden from view but captivated by the sight of you dancing. the way you moved, the passion you poured into the performance—it all stirred something deep within him. it was a mixture of admiration, longing, and a pang of jealousy that he tried to suppress.

as you reached a particularly challenging part of the routine, you heard the faintest sound of the studio door opening. hoseok’s presence was undeniable now, and his gaze was intense as he watched you. you didn’t notice him at first, lost in the rhythm and the demands of the choreography. but as you completed the segment, you turned to find hoseok stepping into the studio.

wonho was at your side almost immediately, having come to watch your performance. he greeted him with a friendly nod. “hey, hoseok. we were just working on the new choreography. what brings you here?” his response was curt, his tone cold. “i came to see if i could run the dance with her.”

wonho looked taken aback by the abruptness but managed a polite smile. “sure, we were just wrapping up. it’s all yours.” hoseok's eyes bore into his with a fierce intensity, a silent assertion of his claim. wonho, though taken aback, took a step back and watched as you and hoseok prepared to dance together. the tension between them was palpable, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere.

as you began to dance, the room seemed to hold its breath. hoseok’s movements were sharp and precise, his focus entirely on you. his performance was impeccable, matching the grace and intensity of your own. the chemistry between you two was undeniable, the dance becoming an almost intimate exchange. he kept his gaze locked on wonho throughout, a clear message that you were his and his alone. the intensity of his stare was enough to make him shift uncomfortably, though he tried to maintain his composure.

when the dance ended, wonho clapped, his expression a mix of admiration and envy. “what was impressive. you both make a great team,” as if calculated, he turned to you, awaiting your answer, not hoseok's. “would you be available for a deeper discussion about the track over lunch? i’d love to get more insight.”

you were about to respond positively when hoseok interjected, his voice firm. “actually, she won’t be able to make it. we have practice scheduled.” you looked between the two of them, caught in the middle of their silent rivalry. “hoseok, we can work something out—”

before you could finish, he cut you off again. “we have a tight schedule, and it’s important that we stick to it.”

wonho’s expression darkened slightly, but he nodded, understanding the implicit challenge. “alright, if you're able to reschedule, just let me know.” you turned to hoseok, frustration evident on your face. “can we talk outside for a moment?”

without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the studio, hoseok following closely behind. the corridor was quieter, a stark contrast to the energy of the dance floor. you faced him, your voice steady but concerned. “what’s going on with you?” you asked. “you’ve been acting like an asshole. what’s this really about?”

his eyes softened as he looked at you. there was a mix of vulnerability and resolve in his gaze. “i just broke up with bona,” he admitted, his voice low. “it’s been complicated, but i needed to be honest with myself and with you.”

you hid your surprise, maintaining a sympathetic demeanor. “i’m sorry to hear that. i hope it’s not too hard on you.” he shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “it’s actually a good thing. it means i can focus on what i really want. and that’s where you come in.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender gesture. his gaze lingered on you, his face inches from yours. the moment was charged, the air between you filled with unspoken words and emotions. hoseok leaned in, his lips almost brushing against yours, when a voice interrupted from down the hallway.

“hey, do you have a minute for another session?”

it was wonho, his timing impeccable and his presence unmistakable. you pulled away from hoseok, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. his expression darkened slightly, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “sure, won. let’s head back.”

as you re-entered the studio with him, hoseok’s gaze followed you, a simmering tension in his eyes. the dynamic between you, him, and wonho had shifted, and the complexity of the situation was far from resolved. the dance session resumed, but the lingering emotions and unresolved feelings created an undercurrent that was impossible to ignore.

the weeks that followed were filled with a growing intensity between you and hoseok. the studio was a place where the boundary between professionalism and personal emotions often blurred. amidst the choreography, rehearsals, and performances, the subtle tension between you and him became increasingly unbearable.

in the studio, when no one was looking, his gestures grew more intimate. during breaks, you’d find his hand brushing against yours under the table, fingers grazing lightly, creating an almost electric connection. there were moments when he’d hug you from behind, his presence a comforting warmth against your back. his hand would rest casually on your waist or thigh, an unspoken claim that seemed to linger in the air.

one afternoon, you were both working on a new routine for his solo track. the studio was alive with the energy of the song, the beat driving the rhythm of your movements. you and hoseok were lost in the dance, the choreography blending seamlessly with the music. he was focused, his eyes locked on you as you both performed with fluidity and precision.

during a particularly intense sequence, his voice broke through the music, his tone low and sensual. “don’t dance with him,” he said, referring to the upcoming live performance with wonho. the statement was clear, and the possessiveness in his voice was unmistakable. you continued dancing, maintaining your composure. “i have to,” you replied, your voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. “it’s strictly business.”

his response was to pause in the middle of the choreography. the move positioned him behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive tenderness. his breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “i don’t like watching you dance with him, you’re strictly mine.”

the whispered words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the intensity of his emotions press against you. as you resumed the dance, the air between you was thick with unspoken promises and desires. the routine continued with an almost palpable tension, each movement more charged than the last.

in the final pose of the routine, you extended your leg gracefully, the culmination of the dance. hoseok was on his knees next to it, his fingers lightly caressing your skin. the touch was delicate, but it carried a depth of feeling that words couldn’t convey. the studio seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint echo of the music in the background.

you looked down at him, your heart racing as you spoke softly, “i promise i won’t dance with him like i dance with you.”

his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and desire. he nodded, his expression softening. without a word, he pressed a gentle kiss to your leg, his lips lingering for a moment. the touch was both intimate and reassuring, a silent confirmation of the bond between you. the kiss was a promise, a reminder of the connection you shared. as you both stood up and moved away from each other, the tension was still there, but it was now tempered with a mutual understanding.

the backstage area was a flurry of activity as you prepared for wonho’s live performance. the atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation. you adjusted your outfit—a striking ensemble designed to fit the theme of the performance. the costume revealed more skin than you were accustomed to, its daring cut and intricate design highlighting your every move. you made sure everything was in place, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves that accompanied such a public display.

as you finished the final touches, wonho appeared from behind the curtain. his presence was calm and collected, a stark contrast to the bustling energy around you. “ready to go?” he asked, his voice warm and encouraging. you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “ready.”

the two of you walked towards the stage, the muffled sounds of the audience growing louder as you approached. the curtains parted, revealing a sea of faces and bright lights. thousands of people filled the auditorium, their cheers and applause resonating through the air. you scanned the crowd, spotting your group near the front. they were all watching eagerly, their faces alight with enthusiasm—except for hoseok.

he was sat off to the side, his expression rigid and stoic. his eyes were fixed on you and wonho, but his gaze was anything but cheerful. the jealousy that coursed through him was palpable, a stark contrast to the smiles of his colleagues.

as the crowd's chatter began to die down, the lights dimmed, and the performance was set to begin. you took a deep breath, focusing on the routine ahead. the music started, and you and wonho moved in perfect synchronization, the choreography flowing seamlessly between you. his voice filled the space, each note perfectly timed with the dance steps.

the performance was a showcase of your skills, but it was also a demonstration of the chemistry between you and him. the dance was dynamic and energetic, punctuated by moments of close contact and intimate gestures. his tight shirt clung to his chest and biceps, accentuating his physique. his movements were confident, but it was the way he touched you—holding you, guiding you, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary—that drew the most attention from hoseok.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his reaction. his usual charm and warmth were replaced by a simmering anger. his gaze was locked on the stage, but it wasn’t just the performance he was watching—it was the way wonho’s hands roamed over you, the way his proximity seemed to be a direct challenge to his claim over you. every touch, every moment of contact between you and wonho was like a dagger to hoseok’s chest.

as the routine reached its climax, you and wonho moved into the final, scandalous pose. the dance ended with you in the same provocative position, his face inches from yours, his arms around your waist. the pose was intimate, the culmination of a performance designed to captivate and provoke. the audience erupted into applause, but hoseok’s reaction was a mix of rage and helplessness. his eyes were fixated on you, his frustration evident despite his attempt to mask it.

the performance concluded, and the stage lights faded. the curtain fell, and the roar of the audience’s approval became a distant echo. you and wonho took your final bow, sharing a brief, congratulatory hug before making your way backstage. the air was thick with the residue of the performance and the emotions it had stirred. as you walked offstage, you felt a mix of relief and apprehension. the adrenaline from the performance still buzzed in your veins, but you couldn’t shake the awareness of hoseok’s gaze. you hoped to catch a moment to speak with him, but his presence was as distant as it was intense. you could sense his eyes on you, even as you tried to avoid his gaze.

backstage, he remained apart from the group, his demeanor unchanged. his stoic expression spoke volumes, but it was his unyielding gaze that betrayed his inner turmoil. despite the applause and celebration, his focus was solely on you, and the jealousy he felt was a tangible force. the night had only just begun, and the emotions between you and him were far from settled. as you moved through the backstage area, the echoes of the performance lingered, and the complexities of your relationships became ever more entangled.

the studio was quiet after the performance, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning. you were alone, stretching to ease the tension in your muscles from the demanding routine. the coolness of the studio floor felt soothing against your skin, and the large mirror reflected your exhausted yet satisfied expression. your body ached, but the relief of having completed the performance was refreshing.

as you reached up to stretch your arms, you could see the way your muscles shifted and relaxed in the mirror. you focused on your movements, trying to release the pent-up energy and stress from the evening. the studio was a familiar sanctuary, a place where you could regain your composure and reflect on the night’s events.

without warning, you felt a presence behind you. hoseok entered the studio, his steps almost silent against the floor. you didn't need to turn around to sense his mood; it was palpable. the air between you grew thick with tension, and you could almost feel the weight of his jealousy pressing down on you.

he approached you, his presence a definite contrast to the quiet calm of the studio. he pressed himself into your back, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was gentle, almost tender, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but his words were anything but kind.

“did you enjoy yourself out there?” his voice was low, laced with a bitterness that contrasted sharply with the softness of his touch. his lips brushed against your neck, the kiss both soothing and provocative. “i saw you and wonho—very cozy, weren’t you?”

you tried to ignore the sting in his words, focusing instead on the soothing pressure of his kisses. “it’s all part of the performance,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. “you know it’s strictly business.”

his grip tightened slightly, his fingers splaying across your toned stomach. “strictly business? that’s what you call it?” he nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your neck. “you were practically in his arms. do you know how hard it is to watch someone else touch you like that?”

his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness, each comment a reminder of how much he cared—or how deeply his feelings were tangled with his frustrations. the contrast between his tender touches and bitter remarks was disorienting, making it difficult to decipher his true emotions.

“you know it’s not like that,” you said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the rising tension. “we had to execute the routine as planned. it’s professional.”

his kisses grew more insistent, his lips tracing along your neck and shoulder. “professional,” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “you were so close, it looked more personal than professional. i couldn’t stand seeing him touch you like that.”

his hands roamed over your sides, his touch both comforting and charged with an undercurrent of frustration. “i'm the one who’s supposed to have that intimacy with you,” he murmured. “not him. and here i am, watching you dance with someone else, knowing you’re his for those moments. it drives me insane.”

you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his emotions palpable in the way he held you. despite the sharpness of his words, there was a vulnerability in his touch, a hint of how deeply his feelings ran.

“it bothers you that much?” you asked softly, turning slightly to face him, though you kept your gaze on the mirror. “it’s part of the job, baby.” hoseok’s eyes met yours in the reflection, his expression a storm of emotions. “i can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice rough with frustration. “don't want anyone else around what's mine.”

his confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. you felt a pang of sympathy mixed with confusion. his possessiveness was clear, but so was his deep-seated affection. it was a complex, tumultuous blend that left you feeling conflicted. neither of you knew what to say, and not much else was left to say.

the lack of words was made up for almost instantly, as he finally found himself leaning in. he was pressed into your back, an arm snaked around your front as he brought his lips down onto yours. the intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, each touch and breath creating a charged atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. the silence was broken not by words but by the sudden, intense need that radiated from him.

the touch was gentle at first, a soft exploration that spoke volumes. but as the intensity of his emotions surged, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent. his lips pressed against yours with a fervor that left no room for doubt about how much he cared. the kiss was all-consuming. hoseok's free hand slid up to cup your face, his fingers threading into your hair. he pulled you closer, his body molding against yours as if trying to erase any distance between you. the kiss was an urgent declaration, a way of communicating everything he couldn’t put into words.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you responded to the kiss. the heat of the moment was undeniable, the intensity of his feelings mirrored in the way he kissed you. his touch was both demanding and reassuring, a testament to the depth of his emotions.

as the kiss continued, it became a battle of passion and need. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could merge your very beings through this single point of contact. his arms tightened around you, lifting you slightly off the ground. the strength in his embrace was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his thumb against your cheek. as your bodies melded together, you could feel the tension in the air thicken. the anticipation was unbearable, like the moment before a storm breaks. and just like that, the dam burst. his hands moved from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss even further. his tongue danced with yours, a silent promise of what was to come. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat and the lingering aroma of the floor cleaner, creating a heady concoction that was uniquely him.

he propped you against the mirror, his position behind you remaining. you gasped at the coldness of the glass, hands pressed into it as you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror—so desperate, so lust-driven. his hands moved with the same precision and control he had when he danced, but now they were driven by something primal. he unhooked your bra, letting it fall away from your body like a forgotten accessory. his eyes never left yours as he cupped your tits from behind, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples.

you gasped, arching into his touch, and his smirk grew into a full-blown smile. he bent his head, taking one into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, as if trying to claim you fully through this most intimate of gestures. you moaned, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. he slid your panties down your legs, revealing your most sensitive spot to the cool air of the studio. he knelt between your thighs, his breath hot against the flesh of your ass. his tongue traced a line from the base of your spine to the apex of your thighs, making you shiver with anticipation. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if you were the sweetest treat he'd ever tasted. his mouth found your core as his hands gripped your ass, and his tongue began to work its magic, circling and flicking, driving you wild with need.

“he get to touch you like this, too?” he practically growled. you pressed your forehead into the glass as your mouth hung open, all you could do was moan. that quickly changed as he pulled away from your sticky cunt, hand flying against your ass as to punish you for your silence. “you better use your fucking words,” and you did.

“no, nobody,” you whimpered, legs quivering as his fingertips traced your folds, collecting the sticky substance that oozed down your thighs. “only you, hoseok.”

it was a good enough answer for him. while he pleasured you, he removed his own clothes, shedding them with the same urgency as he had yours. his muscles rippled in the spotlight, casting dramatic shadows across the studio walls. his eyes met yours in the mirror, the reflection revealing his own need, his own desire for you. he stood up, his arousal evident, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. but he was already there, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“gotta be gentle, hobi, you're too fucking big,” you nearly begged, and it wasn't far from the truth. you knew it the minute you caught a glimpse in the mirror, the minute you felt his sticky, swollen tip in between your lips. he was so fucking big, hard and desperate for you. the way you pleaded only made him harder, his dick pulsating with need.

he watched your face in the mirror, forehead sweaty with your puffy lip tucked between your lips. he needed you—it pissed him off, how good you looked. all that raced through his mind was how good you looked, and how he wasn't the only one who thought so. “i'll think about it,” he lied.

with one swift motion, he pushed his dick past your folds, and you both gasped in unison. the feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, the pressure and the heat making you feel like you might shatter at any moment. he began to move as your pussy clenched around him, his hips driving into yours in a rhythm that mirrored the beating of your hearts. the sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “too big, hobi,” you whined, earning a groan in response. your walls fluttered around him, milking his dick for all it had to offer as he drilled deeper into you.

his hand made its way past your tits, grabbing onto your throat as he continued pounding into you. his grip tightened as you moaned, fueling the fire with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he watched it all, admiring your reflection—the way your tits bounced, the way his hand fit so fucking perfectly around your neck. “feel the rhythm, baby, come on,” he encouraged in your ear. “you can take it, be good for me.”

the mirror reflected your passionate embrace, allowing you to watch each other's expressions of ecstasy. hoseok's possessive gaze never wavered from yours, as if to remind you that in this moment, you were his and his alone. the dance studio had transformed into a place of raw, unbridled passion, and there was no room for anything else.

he was so close, you could tell by the way his free hand held onto your hip, biting into your ass as he used it to his advantage, filling your cunt up to the brim. “tell me where you want it, yeah?” he was eager, too eager, but so were you. you didn't know if it was the atmosphere, or the sheer love you felt, but something had possessed you right then and there. “inside,” you mewled, breathless as a string of moans followed. “inside my pussy, make me yours.”

your words had flipped a switch in him, and you both knew it. his hand released your throat, reaching for your hip as he pushed into your cunt harder than ever. each thrust grew more sloppy and desperate as the second passed, his tip caressing your most sensitive spot. he was close, and so were you.

the tension between you grew, a tight coil winding tighter with every thrust. your moans grew louder, echoing off the walls. hoseok's movements grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening. you could feel yourself approaching the edge, the world outside the studio forgotten. and as you reached the peak, your body went numb. you came with a loud moan, and he followed shortly after. he came just as loud, his cock twitching inside your sore cunt. you could feel the way his cum flooded you, thick ropes of seed filling you up to the brim.

for a second, he didn't pull out. he debated it. the warmth was comforting to him, as you had both turned the studio into something of your own. a different dance, a different art. he leaned in, slipping out of you as he did so, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “i like this performance a whole lot better.”

✧.*

a/n: writing mean!hoseok is so weird ngl anyway take a shot every time i say palpable!!!

heartbeat (심장박동) — jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

the dawn broke with a gentle caress across the landscape, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills and lush valleys. the sun, a celestial artist, painted the sky in strokes of pink and orange, reflecting its light upon the dew-kissed leaves of ancient trees. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming cherry blossoms that danced in the soft breeze, their delicate petals fluttering like whispers of spring’s embrace. birds sang a symphony of melodies, their harmonious notes merging with the rustling of leaves, creating an orchestra of natural beauty that celebrated the beginning of a new day.

yet, this serene tableau of nature stood in stark contrast to the scene of devastation that unfolded in its wake. the earth had groaned and heaved, unleashing its wrath upon the serene landscape. an earthquake, a violent tremor of nature’s own making, had shattered the tranquility. the ground had buckled and cracked, splitting roads into jagged scars and toppling buildings that once stood as symbols of human achievement. streets were strewn with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, and splintered wood—forming a chaotic mosaic of destruction. the once-proud skyline was now marred by the skeletal remains of what had been homes and businesses. in the aftermath, smoke and dust hung in the air like a mournful shroud, obscuring the sun’s light and turning the beautiful morning into a somber canvas of ruin.

you had graduated from medical school that day. it was meant to be a day of celebration, a milestone achieved after years of relentless study and sacrifice. the ceremony had been a blur of proud smiles, academic robes, and congratulatory embraces. but the elation of that moment was short-lived, overshadowed by the impending catastrophe. you had planned to share the joy with your sister, who had been your pillar of strength through the trials and tribulations of medical school. she was your everything—the constant in your life, the one who had stood by you with unwavering support.

as you made your way home, your heart swelled with excitement at the thought of celebrating your achievement together. but when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. your home, once a haven of comfort and warmth, was now reduced to a heap of rubble. the realization struck you like a physical blow. there was no home. there was no sister. the world, which had seemed so vibrant and full of promise, was now an unrecognizable wasteland.

desperation drove you to search through the debris, your hands tearing through the wreckage with frantic determination. hours felt like an eternity as you sifted through the shattered remnants of your life. and then, amidst the ruins, you found her. she lay among the debris, her face pale and her breaths shallow. she was barely alive, her fragile form a haunting reminder of the day’s cruel turn of events. you rushed her to the nearest hospital, a frantic and disheveled figure, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon you. the hospital, too, bore the scars of the earthquake. the once orderly hallways were now chaotic, filled with the injured and the desperate. nurses and doctors moved with frantic efficiency, their faces marked by exhaustion and determination. you clung to the hope that she would recover, that the skilled hands of the medical professionals could restore her to health.

days passed in a haze of worry and sleepless nights. you watched and waited, your heartache mingling with hope. and then, the blow came. you were informed that your sister had passed away. the news struck you like a dagger, but the explanation that followed shattered you further. she had not died from her wounds or the effects of the earthquake but from a medical error. The very system you had dedicated your life to had failed her.

the gravity of the situation was almost too much to bear. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing in as the weight of your grief and anger grew heavier. you felt a profound sense of betrayal, the very institution meant to save lives had failed you and your sister. it was a cruel irony, the culmination of your dream to be the best doctor, only to be faced with the harsh reality of its imperfections. in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow, a fire ignited within you—a resolve born of pain and loss. you vowed to honor your sister’s memory by dedicating yourself to medicine with an unyielding commitment to prevent such errors. it was a promise made in the darkest of times, a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage of your dreams.

the operating room was a sanctuary of focused intensity. the sterile, clinical environment buzzed with a sense of urgency as doctor jung hoseok, one of the best surgeons in the hospital, prepared for yet another high-stakes surgery. the cacophony of beeping monitors, the rhythmic whoosh of ventilators, and the murmur of medical staff created a symphony of controlled chaos.

you stood by hoseok’s side, your heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and determination. your hands were steady but your mind was a whirlwind, knowing the weight of responsibility that rested on everyone’s shoulders. the patient on the table, a young man in his early twenties, had sustained severe internal injuries from a collapsing building. Hoseok’s calm, authoritative presence was a beacon of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

“scalpel,” his voice cut through the tension, his tone clipped and precise. you handed him the instrument with practiced ease, watching as his skilled fingers moved with a deftness born of years of experience.

the surgery was a dance of precision and skill. he navigated through the intricate web of damaged organs with an expertise that left you in awe. his movements were a blend of grace and efficiency, every incision, every stitch, a testament to his dedication and mastery.

“clamps,” he called out, his gaze never leaving the patient. you quickly provided the tools, your own focus unwavering despite the mounting exhaustion. the room was hot, the smell of antiseptic mingling with the acrid tang of blood. as the surgery reached its climax, his expression remained a mask of concentration. the minutes stretched into hours as he worked tirelessly to stabilize the patient. you wiped sweat from your brow, your heart pounding as you held your breath, praying for a successful outcome.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, hoseok lifted his gaze, a weary but triumphant smile playing at the corners of his lips. “we did it,” he said, his voice carrying a note of relief. the patient’s vital signs stabilized, a small but significant victory amidst the overwhelming despair of the day.

but the triumph was short-lived. as you and hoseok stepped out of the operating room, you were greeted by the grim reality of the hospital’s waiting area. the scene was chaotic, filled with an overwhelming number of patients, their faces etched with pain and fear. the earthquake’s aftermath had left a trail of devastation, and the hospital was a crucible of suffering. you let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. hoseok placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “we need to work as efficiently as we can,” he said, his tone steady and encouraging. “every moment counts.”

nodding, you moved swiftly through the maze of makeshift beds and emergency stations. the injured and the ill were everywhere—some lying on stretchers, others sitting in the narrow aisles, waiting for care. the sight was heart-wrenching, and you fought to keep your composure.

then, you spotted her—a young girl, no more than eight or nine, her face streaked with tears. she was clinging desperately to her coat, her small frame shaking with sobs. her wide, frightened eyes and the way she clutched at her coat stirred a profound sense of deja vu within you. she reminded you so much of your sister, and the resemblance was almost unbearable. you approached her gently, crouching down to her level. “hey, sweetheart,” you said softly, trying to mask the lump in your throat. “what’s your name?”

“jiwoo,” she sniffled, her voice trembling. “i want my mommy.” your heart ached as you lifted her into your arms, her tiny body trembling against you. “it’s gonna be okay,” you murmured, holding her close. “we’re gonna find your mommy, alright?” her cries were muffled against your coat as you walked with her through the bustling corridors. the sights and sounds of the injured—wounded soldiers, distressed families, and patients in various states of trauma—flashed by in a blur. each face you passed seemed to tell a story of suffering and hope, and the intensity of the scene made your stomach churn.

you guided jiwoo to the examination room, where a nurse greeted you with a warm but tired smile. “thank you,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude. “please, take good care of her.” the nurse nodded, taking her into her care, and you watched as the little girl’s gaze followed you with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. as you turned to leave, you felt a deep pang of sorrow and a renewed sense of purpose. each patient you saw, each story of survival and pain, was a reminder of why you had chosen this path.

the chaos of the hospital continued unabated as the hours dragged on, each moment marked by the relentless tide of patients streaming in from the aftermath of the earthquake. the corridors were a cacophony of urgent voices, desperate cries, and the clatter of medical equipment. hoseok moved among the chaos with a calm determination, his eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of resolve and weariness.

he paused briefly, his gaze taking in the grim reality of the situation. “we need to help everyone,” he said, his voice tinged with a fierce, unwavering conviction. “i want to, no, i need to help everyone.” his words were not just a declaration but a deep-seated promise that seemed to radiate from his very core. you understood the gravity of his statement all too well. the hospital, with its limited space and resources, was barely able to keep up with the flood of casualties. but his commitment was palpable, a beacon of hope amidst the stark limitations of the facilities. his eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were now shadowed with a mixture of exhaustion and unyielding resolve.

“i promise you,” you said, matching his fervor with your own. “we will find a way to help as many people as we can.” your words were a pledge, born of the same fierce determination that drove him. his tired eyes softened with gratitude as he offered you a fleeting smile. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the fatigue that marked his features.

the moment of camaraderie was abruptly shattered by the anguished screams of a man. your head snapped towards the sound, your heart racing. a middle-aged man was crawling on the floor, his leg grotesquely open and bleeding profusely. his face was contorted with pain, and his cries cut through the din of the hospital like a knife. without a second thought, you and hoseok sprang into action. he barked orders with a commanding authority that drew the attention of nearby staff, and you quickly moved to assist. together, you helped load the man onto a stretcher, your hands working with a practiced urgency.

as the stretcher was wheeled away, you couldn't help but be struck by the sight. the man’s injury, so raw and brutal, mirrored the vision of your sister in the hospital’s aftermath. it was a harsh reminder of the fragility of life and the brutal reality of trauma. the sight made your knees buckle, a wave of nausea and grief crashing over you. before you could fully react, hoseok’s firm grip was on your arms. his touch was grounding, a lifeline amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “pull yourself together,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “everything will be fine. we’re here to help.”

his words were a balm to your frayed nerves, and you blinked away the tears that had begun to well up in your eyes. you took a deep breath, drawing strength from his presence and the urgency of the situation. “i’m okay,” you said, nodding with determination. “i’ll be okay.”

his gaze remained fixed on you for a moment longer, his expression a blend of concern and encouragement. then, with a decisive nod, he turned back to the chaos of the hospital, his focus unshaken. you followed him, your resolve steeled. the sight of the injured and the suffering no longer overwhelmed you but fueled your determination. each patient, each cry for help, was a call to action—a reminder of why you had chosen this path and why you would continue to fight against the odds.

the hospital’s corridors were a maze of urgent activity, and you moved through them with a focused intensity, guided by the steady presence of hoseok. the once immaculate walls were now splattered with the harsh realities of an earthquake’s aftermath, the floors slick with spilled fluids and the air thick with the acrid scent of antiseptic and exhaustion.

the first patient you approached was an elderly woman with a fractured arm and a deep gash on her forehead. her eyes, though tired and pained, reflected a resilience that touched you deeply. you carefully cleaned her wounds, speaking in soothing tones as you worked. “you’re going to be okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle. “we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of.”

hoseok stood nearby, his eyes attentive as he watched you work. he occasionally offered guidance, his voice calm and authoritative. “apply a sterile dressing over the wound,” he instructed, his tone carrying the weight of his expertise. “we need to monitor her for signs of infection.”

as you followed his directions, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze softened with approval. “you’re very gentle,” he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “you have a way of calming people with your touch.” you offered him a small smile, the compliment a balm to your tired spirit. “thank you,” you replied. “among the staff, it seems like no one else is as driven to help everyone as we are. it’s not just about doing our job—it’s about making a difference.”

he nodded thoughtfully, his expression thoughtful. “you’re right,” he said. “in times like these, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients. but it’s our dedication and compassion that make the difference.” you moved on to your next patient, a young boy with a deep cut on his leg. his face was streaked with tears, and he clung to his father, who looked equally distraught.

you knelt beside him, your hands gentle as you cleaned the wound. “i know it hurts,” you said softly, trying to comfort him. “but we’re gonna fix you up, and you’ll be running around again in no time.”

hoseok joined you, examining the boy’s injury with a practiced eye. “we’ll need to stitch this up,” he said, his voice reassuring. “but first, let’s make sure he’s numb so he doesn’t feel any pain.”

as you administered the local anesthetic, he watched with a critical but approving gaze. “you’re doing well,” he said. “Yyur patience with the children is remarkable. it’s important to keep their fears at bay.” you nodded, grateful for his guidance. “it’s easy to be patient when you’re reminded of what’s at stake,” you replied. “when you see their families, you understand just how crucial every moment is.”

next, you tended to a woman in her thirties who had sustained multiple fractures. Her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and fear, and her breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps. you worked swiftly but carefully, applying splints and checking her vital signs. hoseok stood beside you, offering occasional words of advice and encouragement. “she’s in a lot of pain,” you said, your voice tight with concern. “we need to manage her pain effectively to prevent shock.”

hoseok nodded, his eyes sharp as he assessed the situation. “administer a dose of morphine,” he instructed. “we need to ensure she’s stable before we can move her to the operating room.” you administered the medication, watching as the woman’s breathing slowly eased. hoseok placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. “you’re handling this exceptionally well,” he said. “your attention to detail and compassion are exactly what we need.”

as the hours wore on, you continued to work tirelessly under hoseok’s watchful eye. each patient presented a new challenge, and you tackled each with a blend of skill and empathy. from applying dressings to performing initial assessments, every action was a step toward healing and hope. despite the exhaustion that gnawed at you, his praise and the knowledge that you were making a difference kept you going. the hospital’s once chaotic atmosphere began to feel more manageable, and your sense of purpose grew stronger with each patient you helped.

at one point, as you paused to take a brief break, hoseok joined you, his expression a mix of admiration and weariness. “you’ve been incredible today,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “your dedication is inspiring. it’s not often that you find someone with such a genuine drive to help.”

you smiled, the compliment a bright spot in the midst of the chaos. “i just want to make sure we’re doing everything we can,” you said. “in times like these, it’s about more than just medical care. it’s about being there for people when they need it the most.” hoseok’s eyes softened with a mixture of respect and gratitude. “and you’ve done just that,” he said. “it’s an honor to work alongside someone who shares the same commitment to helping others.”

the atmosphere in the hospital was charged with a tense energy as the chief of administrators confronted hoseok in the bustling hallway. the chief, a stout man with a stern expression, gestured sharply with a stack of papers. his voice, though not loud, was laden with authority and frustration. “hoseok,” the chief said, his tone clipped. “you’re being rash. you can’t seriously expect us to take care of every patient with the resources we have. this hospital is far too small to handle this influx. we’re stretched beyond our limits.”

hoseok’s face darkened with a mix of anger and resolve. “it is possible,” he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. “it’s possible if we put in the work and don’t just accept the limitations as insurmountable obstacles. we have to try.”

the chief’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “i understand your dedication, but you’re pushing the boundaries of reason. if you were anyone else, you’d be reprimanded severely, perhaps even fired. you’re only being tolerated because of your skills.” the words were a cold slap, but hoseok’s reaction was fierce. “if my commitment to my patients is a problem,” he said, his voice sharp and defiant, “then maybe it’s this system that needs to change. i won’t be dissuaded by bureaucracy.”

with that, he turned on his heel, his stride purposeful and quick as he stormed off down the corridor. the chief’s frustrated mutterings followed him, but hoseok was already lost in his own storm of emotions. you watched him go, torn between the need to respect his space and the desire to offer support. without a second thought, you followed him, your footsteps echoing in the emptying corridor. you found him standing by a large window in an empty lounge area, his back to you as he gazed out at the darkening sky. the setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the scene, but it did little to ease the storm brewing within him.

you hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. the silence between you was thick with unspoken words, and the gravity of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders. finally, you approached him, your voice soft but resolute.

“hoseok,” you began, gently. “i know the situation is overwhelming. I know what the chief said—he’s right about the limitations we’re facing. but i want you to know something.” he turned to face you, his expression a blend of exhaustion and a flicker of vulnerability. “what is it?” he asked, his voice strained but curious.

“i understand your determination,” you continued, your gaze steady. “i understand it more than you might think. i’ve faced loss and pain, and it drives me to do everything i can to help others. i’d do anything in my power to make sure your idea succeeds. because while i can’t bring my sister back, this is the least I can do. i’ll have your back, no matter what.”

his eyes softened with gratitude, the harsh lines of frustration easing as he listened to you. “thank you,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with sincere appreciation. “your support means more than i can express. it’s hard to keep going when it feels like the world is against us.”

you smiled, the gesture a small comfort in the midst of the storm. “we’ll make it happen,” you assured him. “we’ll find a way. we have to.” he nodded, the resolute spark returning to his eyes. “yes,” he agreed. “we will. together, we can make a difference. thank you for standing by me.” you shared a moment of silent understanding, the bond between you strengthened by shared determination and mutual respect. as you both prepared to return to the fray, the sense of unity and purpose was a powerful reminder of why you were here—to fight for every patient, to push through the limits, and to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds.

you stepped outside into the cool night air, desperately seeking a reprieve from the ceaseless pressure of the hospital. the city, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, bore the marks of the earthquake’s fury. the streets were littered with debris, and the remnants of collapsed buildings loomed like broken skeletons against the skyline. the sky, a deep indigo, seemed too vast and indifferent to the suffering below.

the air was sharp and carried with it the distant sounds of sirens and the hushed murmurs of survivors. you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. yet, the sight of the devastation—once familiar landmarks now in ruins—overwhelmed you. every corner, every shattered window, was a reminder of the chaos that had turned lives upside down. it felt as though the world had been upended, just as your own had been.

returning to the hospital was no easier. the interior was a frenetic blur of activity, the waiting room packed with patients, each one bearing their own story of agony and loss. the sight struck you like a physical blow. It was as if each face held a mirror to your own pain, reflecting the loss of your sister and the desperation you felt to make things right. you forced yourself to focus, to push past the wave of memories that threatened to engulf you. your next patient, an elderly man with a deep laceration on his abdomen, needed immediate attention. you moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning and stitching his wound with hands that trembled despite your best efforts to keep them steady.

the elderly man winced occasionally, his eyes cloudy with pain but also trust. You spoke to him softly, trying to offer some comfort. “you’re doing great,” you reassured him. “we’re almost done, and soon you’ll be on the road to recovery.” his breathing was labored, but he nodded in acknowledgment, his fingers grasping the edge of the examination table. you worked meticulously, careful to ensure each stitch was placed correctly. the procedure was intense, but you found solace in the rhythm of your actions, the repetition allowing you to block out the chaotic thoughts that threatened to invade.

finally, the wound was closed, and the elderly man’s breathing began to even out as the pain eased. you cleaned up, your movements automatic, your exhaustion palpable. as you finished, you collapsed into a chair beside the bed, your head falling into your hands. the weight of the day seemed to press down on you, and you could no longer remember the last time you had slept or even rested properly.

the door creaked open, and you barely registered hoseok’s entrance. he walked in with the calm assurance that had become a hallmark of his presence. his eyes scanned the room, taking in the patient’s steady, restful state. he then turned his gaze to you, noting your worn-out appearance. with a gentle step, he approached and took a seat in the chair next to yours. his presence was a comforting anchor amidst the storm of exhaustion and emotions. you could feel the warmth of his body close by, and despite the chaos, it offered a rare moment of tranquility.

you could feel your eyes growing heavy, the fatigue finally overtaking you. as you drifted into sleep, his gaze remained fixed on you. he watched as the strain on your face eased, replaced by a serene expression. it was a stark contrast to the tumultuous day, a brief moment of peace in the midst of a whirlwind.

his smile was soft, a mix of admiration and affection. he leaned back in the chair, letting his gaze linger on you. the sight of you, so vulnerable and yet so resolute, stirred something deep within him. he whispered to the quiet room, “what are you, indeed? peaceful at all times. what are you?” his question hung in the air, a contemplative murmur to the stillness of the night. as you slept, your breaths steady and even, hoseok remained by your side, his thoughts a tangled web of admiration and concern. the hospital’s relentless pace continued outside, but within this small, quiet corner, there was a rare moment of stillness—a respite from the storm, where two souls found solace in each other’s presence amidst the chaos.

as you slept fitfully, a small, folded photograph slipped from your pocket and fluttered to the floor. hoseok’s keen eyes caught the movement, and he picked up the photo with a gentle curiosity. he unfolded it carefully, revealing a picture of a little girl—her bright eyes and infectious smile captured in a moment of pure joy.

hia heart sank as he studied the photograph, the resemblance to the patient you had treated earlier unmistakable. the realization struck him hard. this was the sister you had spoken of, the one whose loss had driven your unyielding determination. the weight of the truth settled heavily in his chest, and he felt a pang of sorrow for your loss. with a tender, sad smile, hoseok tucked the photograph back into your pocket, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric. he watched you, the burden of your pain and the drive that had fueled your tireless work now deeply understood.

as the night wore on, you stirred in your sleep, caught in the midst of a vivid dream. In your dream, you were in a beautiful meadow, bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene melody. amidst this tranquil setting, you saw her—your sister. she was there, as clear and radiant as the sun itself, her smile warming the entire scene. you reached out, your heart leaping at the sight of her, but she remained just out of your grasp. every step you took towards her seemed to distance her further away, and your pleas for her to come closer went unanswered. you could feel the overwhelming love and longing that had been bottled up inside you, a potent mix of joy and heartache.

but as you stretched out your arms, the dream began to dissolve. the colors bled together, the image of your sister fading into the indistinct blur of waking reality. you jolted awake, tears streaming down your face as you realized it had been nothing but a fleeting dream. the emptiness and loss that had filled your heart so vividly in the dream now echoed painfully in the real world. you sobbed quietly, the grief of the dream and the reality of your sister’s absence crashing together in a wave of sorrow. hoseok, sensing your distress, immediately moved to your side. he wrapped his arms around you with a comforting embrace, his presence a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm.

“it was her,” you choked out between sobs. “she was right there, how could it be just a dream?” his voice was soothing, filled with a deep, empathetic understanding. “i know it hurts,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back. “it’s hard when dreams feel so real. but she’s with you in your heart. i promise you, we’ll get through this.”

he held you close, his warmth a balm to your aching soul. “everything will be okay,” he continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here, and we’ll face it together.” as you leaned into his embrace, the comfort of his words and the strength of his support began to soothe the raw edges of your grief. the reality of the hospital and the endless stream of patients loomed in the background, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between you and hoseok. his presence was a testament to the solidarity and hope that could still be found amidst the overwhelming challenges.

the following morning, the hospital buzzed with its usual rhythm of controlled chaos. you had barely begun your rounds when the loudspeaker crackled to life, calling out an emergency in the er. hoseok’s eyes met yours, concern etched into his features as the announcement detailed the situation.

without a word, you both sprinted towards the room, hearts pounding. as you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat. there, on a gurney, was jiwon, the little girl you had previously encountered. her condition had deteriorated drastically. the deep wounds on her small body had festered, turning into something far more ominous. her big, frightened eyes locked onto yours, and in that instant, the world seemed to slow. her face blurred and morphed, and for a horrifying moment, it wasn’t jiwon you saw but your sister—her eyes pleading, her body frail and helpless. the room seemed to close in on you, the sounds around you muffling as memories of your sister surged to the forefront of your mind.

you couldn’t move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the enormity of your grief and shock rendering you immobile. your heart pounded in your ears, your vision tunneled. all you could see was the image of your sister, her final moments replaying in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. you had failed her, and now, there was jiwon, looking at you with the same desperate hope. hoseok, seeing your distress, moved quickly to your side. “hey, pull it together,” he said, his voice firm but laced with worry. you barely registered his words, your mind trapped in the past.

he shook you gently but urgently. “it’s what your sister would have wanted. she would want you to save this girl.” his words cut through the fog of your panic, grounding you. your sister. she had always admired your strength, your dedication. she wouldn’t want you to falter now. with a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself to focus. you nodded, though the motion felt heavy and slow. together, you and hoseok ushered jiwon into the room, the weight of the moment pressing down on you but not breaking you.

inside the operating room, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with urgency. hoseok scrubbed in, his movements precise and practiced. you followed suit, your hands steadying as you slipped into the familiar routine. “scalpel,” he requested, his voice steady. you handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his in a brief moment of silent solidarity. the incision was made, and the surgery began.

blood oozed from the wound, and you worked swiftly to suction it away, giving hoseok a clear view. the injury was worse than you had feared. necrotic tissue had to be removed, the infection threatening to spread further if not contained. “hemostat,” he ordered, and you placed the instrument in his hand, your eyes never leaving the surgical site. the room was filled with the sounds of monitors beeping, the soft swish of the ventilator, and the occasional murmur of instructions.

his focus was unyielding as he navigated through the intricate web of tissue and blood vessels. “clamp here,” he directed, and you followed, the metal tool snapping shut with a decisive click. time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as you worked in unison, battling to save jiwon’s life. the infection was stubborn, but hoseok’s skill was unparalleled. together, you cut away the dead tissue, flushing the wound with antibiotics, suturing each layer with meticulous care. every stitch, every cut, was a step towards hope, a fight against despair. finally, the last suture was placed, and the wound was closed. you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the surgery had been a success, but the emotional toll was heavy.

you pulled off your gloves and mask, your gaze drifting to jiwon’s still form on the operating table. the anesthesia kept her unconscious, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. you moved to her side, pulling up a stool and sitting next to her. her tiny hand lay limp on the bed, and you gently took it in yours, your heart aching. tears welled up in your eyes as you watched her, the image of your sister still haunting you. you squeezed her hand softly, a tear slipping down your cheek. “everything will be okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i promise you.”

more tears followed, a silent stream of grief and hope mingling. hoseok approached from behind, his presence a comforting warmth. he wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. “she’ll pull through,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “you did great.” you leaned back into him, drawing strength from his embrace. the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future seemed a little more bearable with him by your side.

as you and hoseok stood vigil over her, a muffled commotion echoed through the walls, drawing your attention. exchanging a worried glance with him, you both hurried to the waiting room, the sound growing louder with each step. the scene that greeted you was chaotic. a man stood at the center of the room, his face contorted in rage. he was shouting, his voice a furious torrent of accusations and frustration. the other patients and staff looked on, too stunned or afraid to intervene.

you stepped forward, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “sir, i understand you’re upset, but we’re doing everything we can. we’re short on equipment, but we haven’t stopped working to help everyone.”

his eyes, wild with anger, locked onto yours. “everything you can?” he spat. “my wife is bleeding out and you’re telling me you’re doing everything you can?” he took a menacing step towards you, and before you could react, his hands shot out, wrapping around your throat. the world tilted as his grip tightened, cutting off your air. your hands flew to his, desperately trying to pry them off. your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges. you could hear the frantic shouts of the staff and the gasps of the patients, but they seemed distant, muffled.

hoseok’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “let go of her,” he was by your side in an instant, his hands tearing the man’s grip from your throat with a force you didn’t know he possessed. he pushed you behind him, shielding you with his body. he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him close. his voice was low, dangerous. listen to me,” he growled. “we’re doing everything we can with what we have. everyone here is waiting for treatment, and so will you. if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll be waiting for a casket, not treatment. do you understand?”

the man’s eyes widened, fear replacing the anger as he nodded, hoseok’s grip still firm on his collar. he released the man, who stumbled back, cowed and silent.

you stood there, shaken, your hand pressed to your throat where the man’s fingers had dug in. hoseok turned to you, his expression softening with concern. he pulled you close, his fingers tracing the bruises forming on your neck. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, your voice hoarse. “i’m fine, really. but hoseok, you can’t risk your position like that. what if something happened to you?”

he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes intense. “nothing is more important than you. do you understand? not my position, not this hospital. nothing.” tears welled up in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. you leaned into his touch, the world around you fading away as you found solace in his presence. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

as the tension in the waiting room began to settle, the hospital’s chief appeared, his stern expression cutting through the residual chaos. he made his way directly to hoseok, his eyes narrowing. “dr. jung,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. “my office. now.” hoseok nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before following the chief down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor. you watched him go, anxiety twisting in your stomach.

in the chief’s office, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken reprimands. hoseok took a seat, his back straight, his eyes fixed on the older man who stood behind the large wooden desk.

“what the hell was that out there?” the chief began, his voice hard and unyielding. “do you realize the scene you made? this is a hospital, not a boxing ring.” hoseok’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “that man was choking her. no one else did anything. i had to step in.”

the chief sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i know the toll the earthquake has taken on everyone, including you. we’re all under immense pressure, and tempers are frayed. but you need to understand that your position here is already on thin ice.” hoseok’s heart dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over him. the room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in as the chief continued.

“you’re a good doctor, hoseok,” the chief said, his voice softer now. “but i can’t ignore the incident. that medical error—the one that led to the failed surgery and the death of that little girl—it’s not something we can afford to forget. you need to be more careful. one more mistake, and your career could be over.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. he felt a chill run through his veins, the memory of that night flashing before his eyes. the sterile operating room, the smell of antiseptic, the panicked beeping of the monitors. and then the silence. the deafening silence after the little girl’s heart had stopped. he forced himself to nod, his voice tight. “i understand. i’ll be careful.”

the chief’s eyes softened slightly, but the severity of his words remained. “i’m not saying this to punish you, hoseok. i’m saying it because you’re a talented doctor. don’t let your emotions jeopardize everything you’ve worked for.” he stood, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his shoulders. “thank you, sir. i’ll keep that in mind.”

as he left the office, the gravity of the chief’s warning pressed down on him. the memory of your little girl’s lifeless body haunted him, a constant reminder of his fallibility. the stakes had never felt higher.

returning to the waiting room, he found you standing there, worry etched into your features. you rushed to him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of what had transpired.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he gave you a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “just a reminder to keep my cool,” he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the chief’s warning. “we need to be careful. both of us.” you nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. the hospital was a place of healing but also a place where mistakes could cost lives and careers. together, you would navigate these treacherous waters, leaning on each other for strength.

the minutes turned into hours as the hospital faced an onslaught of patients, each with their own urgent needs. the air was thick with the sounds of pain and desperation, interspersed with the beeping of monitors and the hurried footsteps of medical staff. a young man was wheeled in, clutching his abdomen, his face contorted in agony. “it’s appendicitis,” hoseok diagnosed quickly. “we need to operate immediately.” you assisted in prepping him for surgery, your hands steady as you administered anesthesia, feeling the weight of the man's trust in your hands.

next came an elderly woman, her breathing labored and her skin pallid. hoseok listened to her chest, his brow furrowing in concentration. “pulmonary edema,” he said, his voice decisive. “we need to get her stabilized.” you moved swiftly, setting up an iv and administering medication, feeling the tension ease slightly as her breathing became more regular.

throughout the chaos, hoseok’s praise for your work was a steady undercurrent. “you’re doing great,” he’d say, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “i couldn’t do this without you.” each word of encouragement sent a flutter through your heart, grounding you amid the storm of activity.

a little boy was brought in next, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “fracture,” hoseok noted, his expression softening as he knelt beside the boy. “we’ll fix you up, champ.” you held the boy’s hand, distracting him with stories as hoseok expertly set the bone and applied a cast. the boy’s tears turned to a tentative smile, and you felt a surge of warmth at the sight.

an older man with a deep gash on his thigh was next. “this is going to need stitches,” hoseok said, his tone gentle as he cleaned the wound. you handed him the sutures, your fingers brushing briefly, a jolt of electricity passing between you. as he stitched the wound with precision, he glanced up at you. “we make a good team, don’t we?” you smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “we do,” you agreed, your voice soft.

as the day wore on, the stream of patients seemed endless. you and hoseok moved in sync, your actions a well-rehearsed dance of medical efficiency and compassionate care. every now and then, his hand would find yours, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. by the time the sun began to set, the exhaustion was palpable. your muscles ached, and your mind buzzed with the day’s events. hoseok finished treating the last patient, a woman with a sprained ankle, and turned to you with a weary but proud smile. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite your fatigue. “you too.” as you walked out of the hospital, the cool evening air was a welcome relief. the makeshift shower stations set up outside beckoned, promising a brief respite from the day’s grime and stress. uou grabbed a towel and stepped under the water, letting the cool droplets wash away the dirt and blood, a small sigh escaping your lips.

the evening had settled into a quiet lull, the chaos of the day finally giving way to a rare moment of peace. you stood beneath the shower, the water cascading over your tired body, washing away the grime and stress that had accumulated throughout the day. each droplet felt like a small blessing, providing a fleeting sense of relief. as you stood there, eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water, you heard the soft swish of the shower curtain. you didn’t tense up; you knew who it was even before his arms wrapped around your bare waist, pulling you back against his solid chest. hoseok's touch was gentle yet firm, his breath warm against your neck as he held you close.

“you did a good job today,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. “thank you,” you replied, your voice soft, filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

his lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. you turned around to face him, your eyes meeting his. despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he looked as gorgeous as ever. the soft spray of water from the shower highlighted the contours of his face, making him seem almost ethereal in the dim light. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the water that clung to your skin. his touch was tender, filled with an unspoken promise of comfort and affection. slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. it was a kiss filled with unspoken words, a desperate need for connection and relief from the day’s turmoil.

you kissed back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if he were your lifeline. the kiss grew more heated, a sense of urgency taking over as the weight of the day’s events melted away in the intensity of the moment. his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. the water continued to cascade around you, mingling with the heat of your embrace. each kiss, each touch, seemed to erase a little more of the day’s exhaustion, replacing it with a fervent need for each other. hoseok’s lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.

you arched into him, your breath hitching as his hands explored, finding the places that made you shiver with need. “hoseok,” you breathed, your voice a mix of longing and relief. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. “i need you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “right now, more than ever.”

without another word, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the coldness of the hospital towel forgotten as you clung to him. his mouth returned to yours, the kisses deepening, growing more desperate with each passing second. the water pounded against your skin, the rhythm matching the beat of your racing heart. his hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers digging in as he held you tightly. you could feel his arousal pressing against you, and the realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

his mouth left your lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful.” his words were a potent aphrodisiac, sending a warm flush through your body. you moaned in response, your hands tangling in his hair. his kisses grew more insistent, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before dipping down to your collarbone. you gasped as he sucked on the sensitive skin, his teeth lightly grazing the surface. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that had you squirming against him.

his hands found your tits, kneading them gently as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. you moaned again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the tiles of the shower. your hips rocked against him, seeking more contact, more friction. the need to be closer was overwhelming, the ache between your legs demanding attention. hoseok’s movements grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding. you could feel the tension coiling in his body, a mirror to the desire coursing through your own. you knew that this wasn’t just about sex; it was about connecting, about reaffirming the bond that had grown stronger with each passing day in the chaotic world.

his hands slid down, reaching between your legs, and you shuddered as his fingers found you, already wet and ready. “so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. you bit your lip, trying to hold back the whimpers that threatened to spill forth as he touched you, stoked the fire within you. your body begged for more, and hoseok, ever attentive, was more than happy to oblige.

his thumb circled your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body, while his other hand supported you, holding you firmly against the wall of the shower. the cool tiles provided a stark contrast to the heat that was building within you. hoseok’s eyes never left yours, his gaze locked on you as if he could see straight into your soul. the intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle, your love for him growing with each touch, each caress.

his fingers slipped inside you, and you threw your head back, the water now a backdrop to the symphony of sensations that were playing out between you. your hips bucked against his hand, seeking the release that was just out of reach. his strokes grew quicker, more insistent, as he whispered filthy, loving words into your ear. the shower was now a cocoon of passion, the sounds of the water mixing with your moans and gasps.

his other hand moved to the base of your spine, pressing you even closer to him, and you could feel the tip of his erection nudging against you. you were both trembling with need, the world outside the shower fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in a haze of desire. hoseok’s eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you gave it willingly, nodding your head. without hesitation, he entered you, filling you up with one smooth, powerful thrust.

you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation almost too intense. he stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to move, his hips rolling into yours with a slow, steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but in this moment, there was only the two of you, the heat of your bodies melding together, the sound of your breaths mingling with the patter of the rain.

his movements grew more urgent, his strokes deepening as he claimed you, his gentle doctor’s hands now possessive and firm. you matched his pace, your legs tightening around him, your nails digging into his back. the water rained down on you both, turning the steamy air into a sensual embrace that only heightened the passion of the moment. hoseok’s lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep as if trying to devour you whole. your kisses grew sloppy and desperate, your breaths mingling in a symphony of need.

his hand left your thigh, sliding up to grip your neck, holding you in place as he ravished your mouth. you felt the tip of his tongue trace the seam of your lips before pushing inside, and you responded eagerly, your own tongue dancing with his. the taste of mint toothpaste and the faint metallic hint of hospital air was intoxicating, a stark reminder of the reality that surrounded your clandestine escape into the steamy oasis.

you reached down to wrap your hand around his length, stroking him in time with his thrusts, feeling him pulse and throb in your grip. his eyes closed briefly, a look of pure ecstasy crossing his face, before snapping open to meet yours again. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but you held it, never breaking contact, as you pushed him closer to the edge. hoseok’s breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached climax.

his hand moved to cover yours, guiding your strokes, showing you just how he liked it. your other hand slid down to cup his back, pulling him into you with each thrust. the friction was exquisite, each movement bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. the sound of the shower was now a cacophony of splashing water, wet skin slapping against wet skin, and the grunts and moans of two lovers lost in the throes of passion.

hoseok’s eyes went wide, and he let out a guttural groan, his body stiffening as he came inside you. the warmth of his release sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. your legs tightened around him, your body shuddering with the force of it. he held you through it all, his arms strong and steady, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you both rode the waves of pleasure.

as your climax subsided, he slowly pulled out, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the love and adoration shining in them, a stark contrast to the raw lust that had been there moments before. hoseok kissed you gently, his touch tender as he set you down on unsteady legs. the water continued to fall around you, washing away the last remnants of the day’s tension as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts racing and bodies spent. the steam cleared, and reality began to seep back in, but for now, you didn’t care about the world outside. all that mattered was the warmth of hoseok’s embrace, the feel of his skin against yours, and the quiet reassurance that, amidst the chaos, you had found something beautiful and true. you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. hoseok followed, pulling you close once more, and you knew that, no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

the morning sun filtered through the cracks in the hospital blinds, casting a soft glow over the bustling emergency room. you stood at a patient’s bedside, your hands steady as you carefully adjusted an iv drip. the patient, an elderly woman with kind eyes, smiled weakly at you.

“thank you, dear,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. you returned her smile, your heart warmed by her gratitude. “just doing my job,” you replied gently, checking her vitals one last time before moving on to the next patient. the night had been long, and you felt the weight of exhaustion in your bones, but the memory of hoseok’s arms around you, his whispered reassurances, kept you going.

as you made your way down the corridor, you caught snippets of conversation from two nurses passing by. their voices were hushed, but not enough to prevent you from hearing their words.

“did you hear about (y/n) and doctor jung? i heard she seduced him for a better position and pay,” one of them whispered, a note of disdain in her voice. “typical,” the other replied, her tone equally scornful. “some people will do anything to get ahead.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your heart churned, and for a moment, you felt a wave of nausea. you clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure as the nurses’ voices faded away. at the same time, you heard a familiar voice by the door. “ignore them.”

you turned to see hoseok standing there, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. his presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. he crossed the room, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you took a deep breath, nodding. “thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “we’ve got more important things to focus on.”

with renewed determination, you continued your rounds, treating patients with the same care and dedication that had always driven you. you sutured wounds, administered medication, and offered comforting words to those in pain. each task was a reminder of why you had chosen this path, and why you wouldn’t let the cruel words of others deter you. one patient, a young boy with a broken arm, clung to his mother as you gently examined the injury. “it’s gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice soothing. “we’ll get you all fixed up.” the boy looked at you with wide, trusting eyes. “promise?”

“i promise,” you said, your heart aching at his vulnerability. you worked quickly and efficiently, setting the bone and applying a cast while his mother watched with tears in her eyes. “thank you, doctor,” she said, her voice trembling with relief. “it’s my pleasure,” you replied, giving her a reassuring smile. as you finished up, you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned to see hoseok standing beside you, his eyes filled with admiration.

“can we talk?” he asked softly. you nodded, following him to a quiet corner of the room. he turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you regret what happened last night?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no, i don’t. not for a second.”

his face softened with relief, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i’m glad,” he murmured. “because i don’t regret it either.” in that moment, surrounded by the relentless noise of the hospital, the weight of your responsibilities, and the harsh whispers of gossip, you felt a sense of clarity. you and hoseok were in it together, facing the challenges side by side. and no matter what the day would bring, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could endure anything.

the hours flew by in a whirlwind of activity. the emergency room was flooded with patients, and you and hoseok barely had a moment to breathe. each case demanded your full attention, and you threw yourself into your work, determined to make a difference. one of your patients was a middle-aged man with severe lacerations from a car accident. his face was pale, and he winced with every movement. “stay still for me,” you instructed gently as you cleaned the wound. his wife hovered nearby, wringing her hands in worry.

“will he be okay?” she asked, her voice trembling. “we’re doing everything we can,” you reassured her, glancing at hoseok, who was prepping the sutures. “he’s in good hands.” the man’s grip tightened on his wife’s hand as you worked together with hoseok to close the deep gashes. every stitch you made felt like a small victory, a reminder of the importance of your work.

“thank you, doctor,” the man said weakly as you finished, his voice filled with gratitude. “rest now,” hoseok added, his tone calm and authoritative. “you’re going to be fine.”

you moved on to the next patient, a young woman with a high fever and respiratory distress. you monitored her vitals, administered medication, and did everything you could to stabilize her. the relentless pace continued, and with each patient you treated, you felt the weight of responsibility grow heavier. finally, as the sun began to set, the flow of new patients slowed down. the exhaustion hit you like a wave, and you found yourself leaning against a wall, closing your eyes for a moment’s respite. hoseok appeared at your side, his expression mirroring your fatigue.

“let’s take a break,” he suggested softly. “we’ve done enough for now.” you nodded, too tired to argue. together, you walked outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the emergency room. a small bonfire crackled nearby, providing warmth and light in the growing darkness. you both sat down, the flames casting flickering shadows on your faces.

he handed you a can of cheap soda, and you accepted it gratefully. you popped the tab and took a sip, the sweetness refreshing after the long day. he watched the fire for a moment before turning his gaze to you, the firelight illuminating his features. “what made you so determined?” you asked, breaking the silence. “i know why i’m here, but i’ve never asked about you.” hoseok sighed, his eyes distant as he stared into the flames. “at first, it was about the money. i wanted a stable career, something that paid well. but everything changed when the earthquake hit.”

you listened intently as he continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “there was a little girl who was rushed in during the chaos. she was so small, so fragile. i did everything i could to save her, but i made a mistake. a medical error. and she didn’t make it.” your heart ached at his words, a deep empathy stirring within you. “i understand,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “i know that feeling all too well.”

hoseok looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “i know you understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “because that little girl was your sister.” the world seemed to tilt on its axis. you stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. “what? are you joking?”

“i wish i were,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “when i saw the photo of her slip out of your pocket, i knew. i recognized her immediately.”

a torrent of emotions surged through you—shock, betrayal, anger. you pulled away from him, standing up abruptly. “you knew all this time and didn’t tell me?” hoseok stood up as well, his expression desperate. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know how to tell you. I thought—”

“you thought what?” you snapped, your voice rising. “that i wouldn’t find out? that it wouldn’t matter?”

he took a step towards you, his hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. “i did everything i could to save her. i swear. i’ve lived with that guilt every day.” you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “i can’t believe this. i trusted you, hoseok.”

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t want to hurt you.” but you couldn’t hear his apologies over the roar of your own anguish. you turned and walked back into the hospital, each step heavy with the weight of betrayal. the familiar corridors felt alien now, and the faces of your colleagues blurred in your vision.

inside, you found a quiet corner and sank to the floor, your heart shattering with each passing second. the realization that hoseok, the man you had come to trust and care for, was connected to the most painful moment of your life was too much to bear. you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. the hospital, once a place of solace and purpose, now felt like a labyrinth of pain and deceit. and as you sat there, alone and overwhelmed, you wondered if you would ever find a way to heal.

the night had already been filled with too much pain, but the worst was yet to come. the dull hum of the hospital was suddenly pierced by the shrill cry of an alarm. the emergency broadcast system crackled to life, filling the room with a foreboding announcement: “attention. a new earthquake is imminent. please proceed to the designated safety areas immediately.”

the sound of the alert was quickly followed by the frantic ringing of alarms. panic spread through the corridors like wildfire. the television screens mounted on the walls flickered with images of shaking buildings and terrified faces. staff members sprinted through the halls, urging patients and visitors to head for the basement. you were still reeling from the revelation of hoseok’s connection to your sister’s death, but the urgency of the situation snapped you into action. the chaos around you was overwhelming, but you focused on the immediate task at hand. the job you had taken on had always been about helping people, and in that moment, you had to live up to the commitment.

you grabbed a nearby nurse, her face ashen with fear. “we need to get everyone to the basement!” you shouted over the cacophony. “we’ll start with the patients in critical condition. follow me!” the nurse nodded, her expression resolute despite her trembling hands. together, you moved swiftly from room to room, helping patients to their feet and guiding them towards the emergency exits. the corridors were a maze of frantic movement and terrified faces.

“please, stay calm!” you yelled as you assisted an elderly woman in a wheelchair. “we’re getting you to safety.” as the ground began to rumble beneath you, a low, ominous growl filled the air. the hospital’s structure groaned as if protesting the force of the impending quake. your heart pounded in your chest as you ushered more patients into the basement, each tremor sending vibrations through the floor and walls.

with each passing moment, the intensity of the shaking increased. the walls swayed, and the ceiling tiles rattled loose, falling to the floor with a deafening crash. the alarms blared incessantly, adding to the din of panicked voices. in the basement, the scene was no less chaotic. people huddled together, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. you made sure everyone was settled as best as they could be, then pushed your way through the throng of people, desperately searching for hoseok. his absence was an increasing source of dread.

“has anybody seen doctor jung?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain calm. no one answered, and your anxiety only grew.

the tremors beneath your feet grew stronger, and the ground shook violently. the basement walls trembled, and the ceiling seemed to ripple as if in a nightmarish dance. the sobs and cries of frightened families echoed through the confined space. “no, no!” you heard someone scream. “not again!”

the tremors were relentless, a relentless assault on your senses. you clung to a nearby support beam, your knuckles white with the strain. the shaking went on for what felt like hours, an endless barrage of terror and uncertainty. when the shaking finally ceased, a heavy silence settled over the basement. the air was thick with the scent of dust and fear. you looked around, your heart racing, searching for hoseok amid the sea of frightened faces.

“hoseok!” you shouted, but the name was swallowed by the silence. your eyes scanned the room frantically, but there was no sign of him. you approached one of the staff members, her face pale with exhaustion. “have you seen doctor jung? he was supposed to be here, helping—”

“i haven’t seen him since the earthquake started,” she said, her voice trembling. “he must still be upstairs.” a cold dread washed over you as the realization set in. if he was still up there, he was in grave danger. you moved towards the stairwell, but before you could take more than a few steps, a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back.

“it’s too dangerous!” a voice shouted. it was one of the security personnel. “we need to stay down here until we’re sure the building is stable!” you struggled against their hold, desperation making your voice raw. “i have to find him, he could be hurt.”

“we’ll send a search team once it’s safe,” the security guard said firmly. “you need to stay put.” you watched helplessly as the staff continued to reassure and comfort the frightened patients. your heart ached with each passing minute, knowing that hoseok was up there, alone and in danger. you couldn’t shake the image of him, his face filled with anguish and regret.

as the hours dragged on, the basement’s tension slowly dissipated. the quake had left the hospital in a state of disarray, but the immediate danger had passed. emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh, eerie glow over the faces of those huddled together. you sat down on a bench, your body trembling from exhaustion and stress. the fear and sorrow were overwhelming, and the knowledge that he was still missing gnawed at you with relentless intensity. the events of the past days seemed to blur into one long, unending nightmare.

with each passing moment, you clung to the hope that hoseok would return, that somehow he would come back to you, alive and safe. but as the minutes ticked by and the search continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him for good. the basement was a sea of tears and whispered fears, and you were adrift in the middle of it all, waiting for news that felt like it might never come.

the basement, once a haven of safety, now felt like an eerie waiting room, filled with the weight of anxiety and the suffocating hush of fear. the tension was palpable as everyone waited for news, the soft sobs of frightened families creating a haunting backdrop to the dimly lit space. you sat on the edge of a bench, your hands trembling, eyes darting towards the stairwell as if willing hoseok to appear.

the sound of hurried footsteps and the clamor of metal brought a sudden rush of urgency. a safety team burst into the basement, carrying a stretcher between them. the sight of their grim expressions only heightened your anxiety. as they made their way through the crowd, a small figure trailed behind them, her face streaked with tears. you recognized her immediately—jiwon, the little girl you had been so concerned about. your heart leaped at the sight of her. “jiwon!” you cried out, rushing towards her.

she ran into your arms, her sobs shaking her small frame. “i’m so glad to see you,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “i was so worried.” her tear-streaked face looked up at you, her eyes filled with both gratitude and sorrow. “i wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t rescued me,” she said between hiccupping breaths.

you frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “who are you talking about?”

she pointed to the stretcher being wheeled in. your heart dropped as you took in the sight of the man lying on it. it was hoseok. his once-immaculate white coat was now a tattered mess, stained with blood and grime. his face was marred by scratches, and his skin was torn and bruised from splinters. a gash in his leg bled profusely, and his breathing was shallow and labored.

panic surged through you as you pushed past the safety team and knelt beside him. “hoseok!” you cried, gently placing your fingers against his neck. the pulse beneath your fingertips was weak but present. relief mingled with the gnawing regret that had taken root in your heart. “hoseok!” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you examined his wounds. “please, stay with me.”

jiwon, her face still wet with tears, watched you with a look of deep concern. “he saved me,” she repeated, her voice quivering. “he kept me safe.”

you took a deep breath, fighting the wave of despair threatening to overwhelm you. “i need medical supplies!” you shouted to the team, your voice urgent. “now!” as the team scrambled to fetch the equipment, you turned your attention back to him. memories of his teachings flashed through your mind—everything he had shared about treating injuries, his instructions on how to handle severe trauma. with trembling hands, you began to clean the gash on his leg, your movements both desperate and precise.

the blood flowed freely, and you struggled to staunch the flow. you focused on each step, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at you. “i’m sorry,” you whispered as you worked. “i’m so sorry.” the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. your hands worked methodically, applying pressure, cleaning the wound, and bandaging it with the skill you had learned from him. every time you looked at his face, every time you saw the pain and the sacrifice etched into his features, the regret and sorrow became nearly unbearable.

finally, after what felt like hours, you finished with his leg. you moved to his other injuries, performing basic first aid to stabilize him as best you could. each movement was a battle against the rising tide of emotion and the weight of your fears. with hoseok now stabilized, you stepped back, your heart aching as you looked at his battered form. you took his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his still face. “please,” you begged, your voice cracking with emotion. “please wake up. you have to stay alive. i need you. i forgive you—whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. i can’t lose you too.”

the silence of the basement was deafening as you continued to hold his hand, the enormity of what had happened crashing down on you. the walls seemed to close in, and the oppressive weight of the situation bore heavily on your shoulders. as you sat beside him, your pleas became more desperate. “hoseok, you have to come back to me. i know i’ve been angry, and i know there’s so much we haven’t said. but you’re the only one who understands, the only one who has been there for me. please, don’t leave me.”

jiwon, watching from a few steps away, seemed to sense your pain and stepped closer. “he saved me,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet conviction. “he’s a hero. he’ll be okay.” your heart swelled with gratitude for the little girl’s words, but it did little to ease the crushing weight of guilt and grief. he had put his life on the line just to save the girl that reminded you so much of your sister. the faint sound of the alarms in the background was a stark reminder of the chaos outside, but there, in the small, dimly lit corner of the basement, it was just you and him.

the basement was still, save for the occasional shuffling of feet and the distant murmurs of anxious voices. the weight of the entire ordeal hung heavy in the air as you sat by hoseok’s side, your hands stained with blood and your body numb from exhaustion. the darkness of the night seemed endless, a constant reminder of the fragile line between hope and despair.

you hadn't closed your eyes for what felt like an eternity, your gaze fixed on his still form. every labored breath he took was a reminder of the dire situation, and you clung to the hope that he would pull through. the flickering light from the emergency lamps cast long, wavering shadows across his face, highlighting the bruises and cuts that marred his once-charming features.

finally, after what seemed like an infinite stretch of time, you saw a slight movement. his eyes fluttered open, and your heart leaped into your throat. “hoseok!” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

his eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, met yours. his breathing was still labored, each inhale coming in shallow, ragged gasps. but there was a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of the warm, familiar presence you had feared you might never see again. tears streamed down your face as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his cheek with a gentleness born of desperation and love.

he gave a weak smile, his lips curving up despite the pain etched into every line of his face. “well,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i always thought you’d be the one in this position, not me.” a shaky laugh escaped you as you held him closer, your tears mingling with the blood on his clothes. “i’m so glad you’re awake,” you whispered through your sobs. “i was so scared I’d lost you. i'm so sorry.”

his fingers, though trembling, reached up to brush your hair away from your face. the touch was tender, and it made your heart ache with the depth of your relief. “i’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but earnest. “i never wanted to put you through this.”

you shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “no,” you said firmly, your voice breaking with emotion. “you did your best. you saved jiwon. you saved her, and you saved me.”

as you held him, his lips brushed gently against your hair, a tender gesture that conveyed more than words ever could. you could feel his heartbeat, faint but steady, and it was a rhythm that filled you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. his gaze wandered to where jiwon stood a few feet away. her face was slick with tears, but she was smiling, her small frame trembling with the weight of the relief and gratitude she felt. the sight of her, so reminiscent of your own lost sister, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

her presence was a poignant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you had fought so hard to protect. she was a symbol of innocence and hope, a small, fragile life that had been preserved through the sacrifices made by hoseok and yourself. the resemblance to your sister was uncanny, and it was as though the universe had given you a bittersweet gift—a reflection of the child you had mourned, now standing before you as a living testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit.

you looked at her, then back at hoseok, who was watching her with a faint smile on his lips. his eyes were filled with a mix of pain and satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed through their shared ordeal. “she reminds me so much of her,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on jiwon. “i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she’s a brave little girl.”

the basement, once filled with dread and uncertainty, now seemed to resonate with a quiet, profound sense of relief. despite the chaos and the trauma that had unfolded, the small victories and the lives saved were a testament to the strength and courage that had carried you through.

you continued to hold hoseok close, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. the night had been long and harrowing, but as you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of his presence and the sight of jiwon’s tearful smile, you felt a flicker of hope and redemption.

✧.*

a/n: this was so fun to write omg

l’espoir (희망) – jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

cooking had always been more than just a necessity; it was an art form, an expression of emotion, culture, and memory. each dish was a canvas, and the ingredients were the paints, their vibrant colors and textures inviting the imagination to run wild. the kitchen, with its warm, ambient light and the comforting hum of the stove, became a sanctuary where creativity flowed freely.

the process began with the careful selection of ingredients, each one chosen with purpose and care. the rich, earthy scent of freshly picked herbs mingled with the sweet aroma of ripe tomatoes, their skins still glistening with the morning dew. the produce, with its natural imperfections, held a rustic beauty that promised authenticity. the meats, marbled and tender, were selected with an understanding of their unique qualities, each cut a potential masterpiece waiting to be realized.

as the knife danced across the cutting board, there was a rhythm to the motion, a graceful precision that came with years of practice. the crisp snap of a carrot giving way under the blade, the soft thud of a tomato being sliced, and the aromatic release of a garlic clove being crushed—each sound was a note in the symphony of preparation. the senses were fully engaged; the eyes, tracing the vibrant colors that slowly melded together; the nose, inhaling the complex layers of scents that hinted at the flavors to come; the ears, catching the subtle sizzles and crackles as the heat worked its magic.

the heat of the stove brought everything to life, transforming raw ingredients into something greater than the sum of their parts. the onions caramelized slowly, their sharpness mellowing into a deep, golden sweetness. the meats seared to perfection, a satisfying sizzle filling the air as the juices locked in, creating a rich, savory crust. sauces reduced in a patient dance of evaporation and intensification, their once separate flavors now blending into a harmonious whole.

every movement in the kitchen was deliberate, yet there was room for spontaneity, a sudden dash of spice, a last-minute decision to add a touch of lemon zest. cooking was an intuitive dance between tradition and innovation, where recipes handed down through generations met the creative impulses of the moment. It was in this balance that true culinary artistry was born, where the cook's soul was infused into each dish. plating the food was the final act, a chance to present the creation as a visual feast before it was consumed. the vibrant colors of the vegetables, the artful arrangement of proteins, and the careful drizzle of sauces—all were carefully considered to make the dish as pleasing to the eyes as it was to the palate. the plate was the frame, and the food, the artwork, each detail telling a story, each bite an experience.

cooking was more than a task to be completed; it was a journey, a way to communicate without words, to share a part of oneself with others. it was an act of love, a gesture of care, and a celebration of the simple yet profound joy of nourishment. in the kitchen, every dish was a story waiting to be told, a story crafted with the hands, guided by the heart, and shared with those who gathered around the table.

you had never thought much about cooking. it seemed like a mundane task, something that simply had to be done to keep hunger at bay. eggs and instant noodles had always sufficed, their simplicity mirroring your indifference. you often wondered why anyone would spend hours in the kitchen when a meal could be whipped up in minutes. the aroma of a slowly simmering stew or the sight of a beautifully arranged plate held little meaning for you. but that was before everything changed, before your mother fell ill.

her illness crept up slowly, stealing her strength bit by bit until the vibrant woman who had always filled your home with the scent of home-cooked meals could no longer stand for more than a few minutes. the kitchen, once her domain, grew silent, the once lively space now cold and empty. it was then that you realized how much you had taken those meals for granted, how much they had been a part of your life without you even noticing.

with your mother unable to cook for herself, you were thrust into a role you had never imagined. you could have continued with the instant noodles, could have resigned yourself to the blandness of quick and easy meals. but something inside you resisted. you saw the way your mother looked at the untouched pots and pans, the sadness in her eyes as she realized she could no longer provide for you in the way she always had. it was then that you decided to try, to step into the kitchen and see if you could recreate even a fraction of what she used to make.

at first, it was a struggle. you were clumsy, your hands unfamiliar with the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and seasoning. the internet became your guide, recipes your lifeline as you navigated this new world. you searched for dishes she loved, simple at first—soups, stews, anything that might bring her comfort. the first few attempts were far from perfect. you burnt the rice, overcooked the vegetables, and the seasoning was always slightly off. but your mother never complained. she would smile as she tasted each dish, her eyes softening with pride, even when you knew it wasn’t quite right.

as the days turned into weeks, you began to notice a change in yourself. the kitchen, once an alien landscape, started to feel familiar. you learned to savor the process, to enjoy the way ingredients came together to form something new, something that brought a smile to your mother’s face. the care you put into each meal became a form of expression, a way to show her how much you loved her, how much you wanted to take care of her as she had taken care of you.

with time, your confidence grew. you experimented more, tried new techniques, and even began to create your own dishes. your mother’s reactions fueled your passion; the way she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly after the first bite, the way she would eagerly ask what was on the menu for the day. cooking became more than just a duty—it became a way to connect with her, to bring her joy in a time when there was so little of it left.

when she passed, the loss was unbearable. the kitchen, once filled with purpose, became a place of grief. But instead of abandoning it, you found yourself drawn to it, almost as if by instinct. cooking became a way to keep her memory alive, a way to honor the woman who had taught you to love food, even if she hadn’t done so intentionally. each meal was a tribute to her, a way to thank her for introducing you to something that brought you peace, something that made you feel closer to her even though she was gone.

it wasn’t long before you decided to take your passion further. culinary school was an intimidating prospect, but you felt ready. you entered with the same trepidation you had felt when you first stepped into the kitchen, but also with the same determination. the instructors taught you the finer points of the craft, but you always added a piece of yourself into each dish, just as you had done when cooking for your mother. your ideas were met with curiosity and admiration. you presented dishes that reflected your journey, from the humble grilled squid stew that reminded you of your early experiments to the bold korean barbecue sandwiches that showcased your creativity and confidence. each dish was crafted with care, infused with the love and respect you had for the process. you passed the program not just because of your skill, but because of the heart you put into every plate.

cooking had become more than just a way to feed yourself or others; it had become a way to tell your story, to express who you were and where you came from. every time you stood in the kitchen, you felt her presence, guiding your hands as you chopped, stirred, and seasoned. and as you watched others enjoy the food you prepared, their smiles reminded you of her, of the way she had once smiled at you, and you knew that you had found something truly special.

when the opportunity for an internship at l’espoir presented itself, you felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. you had been through so much already, from your first fumbling steps in the kitchen to the rigorous challenges of culinary school. and now, here you were, standing on the brink of something new. the name of the restaurant itself resonated with you in a way that felt almost fated. l’espoir. hope. it was a simple word, yet it carried such profound meaning, especially for someone like you, who had found in cooking the one thing that kept you grounded, the one thing that still made you happy.

you had nothing against the idea of working there—on the contrary, you were drawn to it. there was something poetic about the name, something that spoke to your soul. cooking had always been more than just a means of sustenance; it was your connection to your past, your way of honoring your mother, and the very essence of hope. so when you accepted the offer, it wasn’t with trepidation or reluctance, but with a quiet, simmering excitement. this, you thought, could be your fresh start.

the day you walked through the doors of l’espoir for the first time, the air was thick with the mingling aromas of herbs, garlic, and roasting meats. the kitchen was a hive of activity, yet it was orchestrated with the precision of a symphony. there was a rhythm to the place, a kind of dance that the chefs performed with their knives, pans, and ladles. the hiss of oil in a hot pan, the clatter of plates being set down, the low hum of focused conversation—all of it combined to create a world that was at once chaotic and harmonious.

the chef in charge was a figure of quiet authority. you had heard of chef jung before, his reputation preceding him like the fragrant bouquet of a well-seasoned broth. he was not known for being flamboyant or loud, but rather for his meticulous attention to detail, his ability to coax the most delicate flavors from even the simplest ingredients. his presence commanded respect, not through fear, but through the sheer weight of his expertise and the dedication he inspired in those who worked under him.

when you were introduced, he looked at you with eyes that seemed to assess everything in a single glance. he was attractive, with brown threads running through his dark hair, and his chef’s whites were as crisp and clean as the linens in the dining room. there was a calmness about him, a confidence that came from years of experience, but also a warmth that hinted at a genuine love for his craft. he extended a hand, his grip firm but not crushing, and welcomed you to his kitchen.

“bienvenue à l’espoir,” he said, his voice steady and rich. “i trust you’re ready to work.” you nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. it was the start of something new, something that could shape the course of your life. the kitchen was no longer just a place to cook; it was a stage, and you were about to step into a role that would challenge you in ways you couldn’t yet imagine.

you learned quickly that chef jung hoseok was not the warm, encouraging figure you had once imagined. there was an air of severity about him, a sharpness that seemed to permeate every corner of the kitchen. from the moment you set foot in l’espoir, you were acutely aware that this place was not a haven of creativity and shared passion but rather a crucible, designed to burn away anything that wasn’t absolute perfection. hoseok was at the center of it all, a man whose entire being seemed devoted to the pursuit of culinary excellence, and nothing else.

his presence was commanding, but not in the way that inspires admiration or loyalty. Instead, it instilled a sense of dread, a fear of making even the smallest mistake. he had a way of watching you, his gaze sharp and unyielding, that made you question every movement, every decision you made. there was no room for error in his kitchen, no margin for anything less than flawless execution. his standards were exacting, his expectations clear in the curt, precise way he delivered instructions. any hope you might have had for guidance or mentorship was quickly dashed—there, you were expected to perform, and to perform perfectly.

as you followed his directives, each task assigned with a precision that bordered on obsession, you felt the weight of his scrutiny. the kitchen, once a place of solace and creativity for you, had become a place of tension, where every clatter of a pan or slip of a knife carried the potential for rebuke. there was no room for error, no space for growth; only the relentless pursuit of perfection under hoseok’s watchful eye.

you were immersed in your work, the steady rhythm of chopping vegetables the only thing keeping your nerves at bay, when you felt a presence beside you. a girl had approached, her demeanor bright and friendly, a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hoseok cultivated. she leaned in slightly, peering over your shoulder with a curious expression that quickly melted into a warm smile. “your knife skills are really impressive,” she remarked, her voice light and genuine, a welcome relief in the otherwise tense environment.

you glanced up, meeting her gaze with a slight smile of your own. it was the first bit of kindness you had encountered since stepping into this kitchen, and it was enough to ease some of the tension that had been building in your chest. “thank you,” you replied, your voice tinged with gratitude. as you spoke, you noticed the meticulously arranged assortment of seasonings at her station. wach jar and container was perfectly aligned, the spices within organized by color and texture, a testament to her own care and precision. “your seasonings are beautifully arranged,” you added, genuinely impressed by her attention to detail.

she beamed at the compliment, a touch of pride in her expression. “i like to keep them organized. it makes experimenting with flavors a lot easier when everything’s in its place.” there was something infectious about her enthusiasm, a brightness that seemed to push back the shadows that hoseok’s presence cast over the kitchen. it was a small comfort, but in that place, even the smallest comfort felt like a lifeline.

“i’m park chaeyoung, by the way,” she said, extending a hand to you in a gesture that felt almost old-fashioned in its sincerity. you took her hand, finding her grip warm and reassuring. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m—”

before you could finish your introduction, she cut you off with a knowing look. “have you met chef jung yet?” she asked, her tone more serious now, as if she was preparing you for something you hadn’t yet understood. you nodded, the memory of your brief, formal introduction still fresh in your mind. “yeah, he welcomed me and then put me straight to work.”

chaeyoung let out a soft, almost derisive laugh, shaking her head slightly. “rhat sounds like him. work is all he cares about.” her voice held a hint of bitterness, the kind that comes from experience, from seeing too much and saying too little. she hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully, before leaning in slightly closer. “you need to be careful around him.”

The warning was subtle, almost whispered, but it struck you with an unexpected force. there was something in her tone, a depth of concern that went beyond the usual advice given to new interns. you could feel the weight of her words, the implication that there was more to hoseok than just his stern demeanor and strict standards. “what do you mean?” you began, your curiosity piqued, but before she could respond, the sound of a door opening interrupted the moment.

you turned just in time to see hoseok emerge from his office, his presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the room. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his eyes scanning the kitchen with the precision of a hawk. every movement, every sound seemed to be registered, cataloged in his mind as he took stock of the ongoing work. there was a moment of stillness, the kitchen holding its collective breath as he surveyed the scene.

then his gaze locked onto one of the other cooks, a young woman named kim dahyun. she looked up at him, her face lighting up with a smile that was almost childlike in its adoration. it was as if his very presence was enough to make her day, her entire being focused on him as if nothing else mattered. “dahyun,” he said, his voice cutting through the air with the same precision as one of his knives. “come to my office.”

she practically leapt to her feet, her eagerness visible as she hurried over to him. there was something unsettling about the way she reacted to him, a kind of blind devotion that seemed out of place in a professional kitchen. she followed him into his office without a moment’s hesitation, the door closing behind them with a quiet finality. you couldn’t help but feel a chill run down your spine as you watched them go. there was something about the exchange that felt wrong, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. it wasn’t just the power dynamic at play—though that was certainly part of it—it was something more, something unspoken that lingered in the air long after they had disappeared from view.

chaeyoung’s voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to her. “do you see what i mean now?” she asked, her tone a mix of concern and resignation. there was a sadness in her eyes, a look that told you she had seen this play out before, that she knew where it would lead. but you shook your head, still unsure of what she was trying to convey. the confusion must have been evident on your face, because she sighed softly, her expression softening as she looked at you with a mixture of pity and understanding.

“you’ll find out soon enough,” she said quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow that made your heart sink. “just be careful. that’s all i’m saying.” with that, she turned back to her station, leaving you to grapple with the unease that had settled in your chest. the warmth and friendliness that had initially put you at ease were now overshadowed by a sense of foreboding, a feeling that there were things in this kitchen you had yet to understand, and that understanding them might cost you more than you were prepared to give.

the day had worn on relentlessly, each task blurring into the next until you lost track of time. the kitchen was a relentless machine, and you had been one of its many moving parts, a cog in the grand design orchestrated by chef jung. the relentless pace of service had demanded every ounce of your focus, leaving no room for distractions or second thoughts. each dish you plated, each garnish you placed, was an offering, a testament to the skill you had fought so hard to hone.

as the evening crept into night, the rush of orders began to slow, the once frantic energy in the kitchen tapering off into something quieter, more subdued. you found yourself still working, your hands moving on autopilot as you plated the last few dishes with the same care and precision you had started with. it wasn’t until you placed the final plate on the pass that you realized the noise had died down entirely.

you glanced around, noticing for the first time that the other chefs had finished their shifts and were long gone. the kitchen, once bustling with life, was now eerily silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the overhead lights and the faint clatter of pots and pans as you began to clear your station. you hadn’t even noticed that you were the last one standing, too absorbed in the rhythm of the work to register the passage of time.

with a quiet sigh, you began to return the ingredients to their proper places, meticulously ensuring that everything was as it should be. your movements were slow, almost practiced, as the exhaustion of the day finally began to catch up with you. every muscle in your body ached, but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that you had made it through your first day unscathed—or so you thought.

as you turned around to grab the plates from the counter, your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. there, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, was hoseok. he was so still, so silent, that you hadn’t noticed him at all, and the shock of his sudden presence nearly made the plates slip from your hands. you caught them just in time, fumbling slightly as you tried to regain your composure. his expression was unreadable, the same stoic mask he had worn all day. there was a heaviness in the air, a palpable tension that made your breath hitch in your throat. “chef jung,” you managed to say, your voice betraying the nervousness that you had tried so hard to keep at bay. “did you need anything?”

for a moment, he said nothing, simply observing you with that intense, unwavering gaze that you were beginning to find so unsettling. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “you did a good job today,” he said, his tone flat, almost devoid of emotion. it was the closest thing to praise you had received all day, and yet it felt strangely hollow. you nodded, a nervous laugh escaping you as you turned back to put away the plates and tidy up what was left on the counter. your hands moved quickly, more out of a desire to escape the uncomfortable silence than anything else. but no matter how fast you worked, you could still feel his eyes on you, that penetrating stare that seemed to see through every facade you tried to put up.

it wasn’t until you heard the soft, almost imperceptible sound of footsteps that you realized he was moving closer. slowly, deliberately, he approached, each step measured and precise, like a predator closing in on its prey. the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, a sense of dread settling over you as you continued to work, pretending not to notice how close he was getting. but then, before you knew it, he was right in front of you, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the kitchen. you froze, your hands stilling as the tension between you reached a boiling point. the counter behind you pressed into your lower back as you instinctively backed away, trying to put some distance between you and the chef who now towered over you.

your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering in your chest as you looked up at him, your mind racing to make sense of the situation. there was something different in his eyes now, something dark and unreadable, a flicker of something that made your skin prickle with unease. you couldn’t look away, trapped by his gaze, unable to move as the air seemed to thicken around you.

“i take good care of my employees,” hoseok said, his voice low, almost a whisper. the words hung in the air, heavy with implication. “especially the ones that know what they’re doing.”

he paused, letting the weight of his statement sink in. the smirk that followed was small, barely noticeable, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless. there was a calculated cruelty in it, a reminder that you were playing a game whose rules you didn’t fully understand. the look of shock on your face must have amused him, because the smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a way that was anything but friendly. he held your gaze for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch out until it became unbearable, before finally turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

you stood there, rooted to the spot, your mind reeling from the encounter. the exhaustion that had weighed you down only moments ago was now replaced by a new kind of fatigue, one born of fear and uncertainty. his words echoed in your mind, a reminder that you had only just begun to scratch the surface of what it meant to work under a man like him. and as the silence of the kitchen closed in around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the real challenge lay ahead, hidden behind the inscrutable mask of the man who had just left you standing there in astonishment.

the next morning at l’espoir was a blur of activity, the kitchen bustling with the early rush of orders and the frenetic energy that came with the start of a new day. as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back to the unnerving encounter with hoseok the night before. the more you thought about it, the more the details seemed to gnaw at you, leaving you with a gnawing sense of unease.

in a brief lull between the chaos, you seized the opportunity to speak with chaeyoung, hoping for some clarity. she was at her station, her focus entirely on the task at hand as she expertly wielded her knife. you approached her, the question weighing heavily on your mind. “chaeyoung,” you began, trying to keep your tone casual despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. “last night, hoseok—chef jung—he said something that really threw me off. he said he takes good care of his employees, especially the ones who know what they’re doing. what did he mean by that?”

her eyes widened in surprise, and she set her knife down with a decisive thud. her gaze was fixed on you, a mixture of shock and concern crossing her features. “that was faster than i thought,” she said, her voice laced with a gravity that made your stomach churn. desperation tinged your voice as you pleaded with her for an explanation. “what do you mean? please, just tell me what’s going on.”

she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a single word, the same voice that had cut through the atmosphere the previous day filled the kitchen once more. chef hoseok’s presence was unmistakable, his authority evident even from a distance. he appeared in the doorway, his stance casual but his expression unreadable. “seo soojin,” he called out, his tone commanding and precise. the moment the name left his lips, the kitchen seemed to hold its breath.

you turned to see soojin, another fellow cook, visibly excited as she looked up at hoseok. her face lit up with a smile that was almost childlike, a contrast to the stern expression you had come to associate with him. without a moment’s hesitation, she followed him out of the kitchen, her steps light and eager. dahyun, who had been bustling around earlier with a beaming expression, now stood with a look of disappointed resignation. her eyes followed soojin and hoseok as they disappeared through the door, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she had expected something different.

as you watched the scene unfold, hoseok’s gaze met yours for a brief, unsettling moment. there was that smirk again, a fleeting expression that seemed to carry a weight of its own. he held your gaze just long enough to make you feel uncomfortable before turning back toward soojin, leaving you standing there with a knot of confusion in your chest. you turned back to chaeyoung, your confusion evident. “what’s going on? why does he keep doing this?”

chaeyoung let out a heavy sigh, turning to face you fully. her expression was one of resignation, her eyes filled with an emotion that was hard to decipher. “you will never be special no matter how good you are,” she said, her voice calm but carrying a weight that made your heart sink. there was no malice in her tone, but the words were stark and cold, cutting through the air with an unspoken finality. she paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. “don’t let him make you think you’re special. he has a way of making you believe you’re important, but it’s all a part of the game he plays. you’re just another cog in the machine.”

without waiting for a response, she turned back to her station, picking up her knife and resuming her work with a practiced efficiency. the clatter of the knife against the cutting board was the only sound that filled the silence that followed, the atmosphere in the kitchen heavy with the weight of her words. you stood there, rooted to the spot, your mind spinning with the implications of what she had said. the confusion that had settled over you was now compounded by a growing sense of foreboding.

the kitchen was a symphony of clattering pans, the hiss of flames, and the murmur of orders being called out and fulfilled with practiced precision. you moved through it all with a growing sense of unease, still rattled by the strange dynamics you had witnessed earlier. the incident with soojin played over in your mind, intertwining with chaeyoung's cryptic warnings, leaving you with a gnawing sense of dread.

hours passed in a blur of activity, the rhythm of the kitchen demanding your full attention, but even as you focused on your tasks, a part of you remained on edge. And then, just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the routine, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. the familiar presence of chef hoseok filled the room, his energy commanding and intense. you were used to him surveying the kitchen with a critical eye, but this time, he wasn’t simply observing.

to everyone’s astonishment, including your own, hoseok called out your name. the room seemed to freeze as he paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words hang in the air before continuing. “come to my office.”

a shiver ran down your spine, your blood running cold as chaeyoung’s eyes widened in shock. she turned to you with a look of apprehension, and you could see the fear reflected in her gaze, as though she had been waiting for this very moment and dreading it all the same. you nodded weakly, the motion almost imperceptible, as you tried to steady your breathing. with leaden feet, you followed him out of the kitchen, feeling the envious glares from many of the female cooks boring into your back. the intensity of their stares made your skin prickle with discomfort, but you swallowed your fear, forcing yourself to maintain some semblance of composure.

the walk to his office felt interminable, every step echoing in your mind with a sense of finality. when you finally reached his door, it creaked open with an ominous slowness, revealing the space within. the office was stark and minimalistic, a sharp contrast to the chaos of the kitchen. the walls were a cold, muted gray, devoid of any decoration save for a single, large window that overlooked the city. the desk was made of dark, polished wood, a few neatly stacked papers and a sleek laptop the only items adorning its surface. a single chair sat opposite his, the leather worn but comfortable, a place where countless others had sat before you.

hoseok moved behind his desk with a certain predatory grace, settling into his chair and fixing you with a smirk that sent another shiver down your spine. the silence in the room was heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that made your heart race. you stood there, feeling out of place, as though you were trespassing in a space where you didn’t belong. his eyes remained on you, studying your every move as you finally gathered the courage to speak. “why did you need to see me, chef jung?”

he was silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering, and then, with a calculated slowness, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. “you’ve got a special gift, don’t you?” the question took you off guard, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“for cooking,” he clarified, though his tone carried an edge of something more. “you’re an outstanding chef.” you forced a nervous laugh, trying to downplay the compliment that felt more like a trap. “thank you, chef jung.”

his eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were measuring your reaction, and then he continued, his voice smooth and deliberate. “performance means everything to me. in the kitchen, maybe even in the office.” the sound of his words hung in the air, and a sense of unease tightened your chest. you frowned, trying to keep your voice steady as you asked, “what do you mean by that?”

instead of answering, hoseok stood up from his chair with a fluid motion, his eyes never leaving yours. as he approached, you instinctively backed away, your heels hitting the wall behind you. the cold surface pressed into your back, trapping you as he moved closer, his presence overwhelming and suffocating. he was mere inches away from you now, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low purr. “you’re a pretty girl,” he murmured, his tone almost mocking. “a shy one too, it seems.”

your breath caught in your throat, your mind scrambling for a way out of this situation. his gaze was piercing, intense, and when you turned your head to avoid it, he quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “what’s this?” he asked, his voice laced with a cruel curiosity. “you really don’t want to sleep with me?”

his question hit you like a slap to the face, your eyes widening in shock as the reality of the situation clicked into place. the pieces of the puzzle—the office visits, the strange behavior of the female cooks, chaeyoung’s warnings—all fell together with a sickening clarity. a scoff escaped your lips, more out of disbelief than anything else. “why would i want to sleep with you?”

hoseok’s expression faltered, surprise flickering in his eyes as though he hadn’t expected such a response. you could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to reconcile your reaction with whatever twisted game he was playing. you pressed on, the anger rising in your chest as you confronted him. “do you bring all of your female cooks in here just to sleep with them? what kind of restaurant is this?”

the question hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, the power dynamic between you shifted. his gaze hardened, the smirk fading as his expression turned cold. “watch what you say,” he warned, his tone icy. but the fear that had gripped you before was gone, replaced by a fiery determination. “or what?” you shot back, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “you’ll fire me?”

he seemed genuinely taken aback, as if no one had ever dared to stand up to him before. his eyes searched yours, trying to find a crack in your resolve, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction. “no need to fire me,” you continued, your voice firm. “because i quit.”

the words were final, a declaration of your independence from whatever twisted game he had been playing. you could see the shock in his eyes, the disbelief that someone had dared to defy him. “you have some balls to think i’d sleep with you,” you added, your voice dripping with contempt. “and for what? you’re an asshole who takes advantage of women for the price of an overcooked steak.” his eyes were wide, his face a mask of astonishment as you slipped off your uniform coat jacket, the fabric heavy in your hands. with a final, defiant glare, you slammed it down on his desk, the sound reverberating through the silent office. without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out, leaving the door ajar behind you.

the night air was cool as you walked home, the city lights a blur of distant halos against the encroaching darkness. each step felt heavier than the last, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl of emotions as the gravity of what you had just done began to settle in. the confrontation with hoseok replayed in your mind on an endless loop—his smirk, his words, your defiance. In the moment, it had felt powerful, even righteous, but now, with the adrenaline fading, a different sensation began to take hold.

by the time you reached the front door of your small apartment, the realization of your actions had fully sunk in. you paused, your hand trembling slightly as you reached for the keys in your pocket. the quiet creak of the door as it swung open felt like the final sound before the storm. you stepped inside, the familiar scent of home offering a fleeting sense of comfort, but it wasn’t enough to quell the rising tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

the door closed behind you with a soft click, and suddenly, the weight of the evening pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. you stood there, motionless, in the middle of your living room, the silence around you amplifying the chaos in your mind. the tears came slowly at first, a single drop trailing down your cheek as the full impact of what you had done crashed over you like a wave. you had just walked out on your internship, on the one opportunity that was supposed to be your stepping stone into the culinary world. hoseok was an asshole, yes, a man who clearly enjoyed taking advantage of his position, using his authority to charm his way into the beds of his female employees. but he hadn’t forced anyone—everything he did was consensual. so why had you been so angry, so furious that you had thrown away everything you had worked for?

you sank down onto the couch, your body trembling as the tears began to flow more freely. it wasn’t just about hoseok’s arrogance, his assumption that you would be willing to trade your dignity for his approval, though that stung deeply. it was the way he had discredited your culinary abilities entirely, reducing you to nothing more than a pretty face in his kitchen. the care and passion you had poured into your cooking, the countless hours spent honing your craft, all of it had been dismissed with a casual smirk and a lecherous comment.

you pressed your hands to your face, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked your body. it felt as though the ground beneath you had crumbled, leaving you adrift in a sea of doubt and regret. you had been so proud to land this internship, so eager to prove yourself, and now it was all slipping away. the memories of your mother flooded your mind—her gentle smile as she tasted your first attempts at cooking, the way she had encouraged you to follow your passion, the pride in her eyes when you were accepted into culinary school. all of it, you feared, was being tossed into the abyss along with your future.

your sobs grew louder, your chest heaving with the force of your despair. you had wanted so badly to succeed, to make your mother proud, and now it felt like you had failed her, failed yourself. you couldn’t imagine what would happen next—whether you would be blacklisted, your reputation tarnished, or if this was the end of your dreams altogether. the sound of your phone buzzing broke through your sobs, the sudden noise startling you. you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, your vision blurry as you fumbled to pull your phone from your pocket.

the screen glowed in the dim light, an unknown number displayed across it. for a moment, you hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest as a flood of possibilities rushed through your mind. slowly, you unlocked the phone and opened the message. the words on the screen made your breath catch in your throat: “this is hoseok. be ready for work tomorrow. come on time.”

your eyes widened in shock, the tears still clinging to your lashes as you stared at the message in disbelief. you read it over and over, each time hoping that you hadn’t misread it, that it wasn’t some cruel joke. but the message remained the same, clear and concise, with no hint of the malice or arrogance you had come to expect from him. a fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they weren’t tears of despair. you cried out in a mixture of relief and gratitude, your voice breaking as you whispered, “thank you.” the words felt inadequate, too small to convey the whirlwind of emotions that surged through you—relief, disbelief, hope. you had been certain that you were finished, that you had burned the bridge beyond repair, but now, against all odds, hoseok was giving you another chance.

you clutched the phone to your chest, your tears flowing freely as you continued to murmur your thanks, as if by doing so you could somehow ensure that this second chance was real, that it wouldn’t slip away from you. the room around you was a blur, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and gratitude, but one thing was clear—you had been given an unexpected opportunity to prove yourself once more.

the early morning light filtered through the tall windows of the restaurant, casting a soft glow across the kitchen as you stepped inside. the space was quiet, the usual bustle of the day not yet begun, and the stillness allowed you a moment to steady yourself. the memory of last night was still fresh, the relief of hoseok’s message warring with the anxiety that had built up since then. you had come in early, determined to prove yourself, to show that you deserved the second chance he had inexplicably given you.

as you made your way through the kitchen, the faint sounds of someone already at work reached your ears—soft chopping, the gentle sizzle of something on the stove. you hesitated at the doorway, your eyes falling on hoseok, who stood alone at one of the stations. he moved with a kind of graceful precision, each action deliberate and practiced, as though he were conducting a symphony of flavors. his focus was entirely on the task before him, but even from this distance, you could see the ease with which he worked, the confidence in his every movement.

for a moment, you just watched him, awed by the skill that had made him such a formidable figure in the culinary world. he was the man whose name alone commanded respect, whose kitchen you had been so eager to join. and here he was, caramelizing onions with a level of care that spoke to a deep understanding of his craft. the rich, sweet scent filled the air, mingling with the subtle heat of the kitchen, and you found yourself momentarily entranced by the simplicity of the process.

it was then that you noticed something—he was stirring the onions more than you thought necessary. the instinctive urge to offer advice welled up inside you, but you fought it, knowing that you were in no position to critique a chef of his caliber. but before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, almost without your permission. “chef, you shouldn’t stir so much,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the sound carried in the quiet kitchen.

the moment the words left your lips, regret hit you like a wave. how could you be so foolish? he was the same man who had just given you a chance to redeem yourself, and here you were, criticizing his technique. your heart raced as you waited for the inevitable rebuke, the sharp reprimand that you were sure was coming. you had spoken out of turn, overstepping boundaries, and now you were certain that your second chance was about to be snatched away as quickly as it had been given.

but instead of anger, instead of the cold dismissal you had expected, hoseok paused. he stood still for a moment, as if considering your words, before he slowly turned to face you. his eyes met yours, and you felt a jolt of fear mixed with confusion at the look he gave you—calm, measured, and without a hint of the scorn you had braced yourself for. “you’re right,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of acknowledgment rather than irritation. “they’ll brown faster if i don’t stir so much.”

the surprise that washed over you was almost as strong as the initial fear. your eyes widened in disbelief, and you barely managed to stammer out a response. but before you could say anything, he smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips that softened the usually stern lines of his face. the expression was brief, gone as quickly as it had appeared, but it left you reeling. hoseok had not only accepted your advice but had done so with a humility that you hadn’t expected from someone of his stature.

he said nothing about the incident the previous day, and you knew better than to bring it up. the tension that had gripped you since last night eased slightly, but you still felt a lingering sense of unease. was it his way of testing you? or had he genuinely respected your input? the uncertainty gnawed at you, but you forced yourself to focus, reminding yourself that you were here to work, to prove yourself worthy of the opportunity he had extended.

his voice broke through your thoughts as he turned back to the onions, resuming his work with a quiet confidence. “i have an assignment for you,” he said, his tone suggesting that this was more than just a simple task. “since you seem to know so much.”

your heart skipped a beat at the words, a mix of anxiety and determination surging through you. you nodded, keeping your expression as neutral as possible, though inside you were mentally cursing yourself for speaking up earlier. you didn’t want him to think you were arrogant, or worse, insubordinate. but there was no turning back now. you had opened your mouth, and now you would have to see this through.

“i want a new product made to represent the restaurant,” he continued, his focus still on the onions but his words clearly meant for you. “something that embodies what we stand for here at l’espoir. you seem like you have some ideas, so i expect you’ll get right on it.”

the weight of the task settled over you like a heavy mantle, but you nodded again, your mind already racing with possibilities. it was no small request—creating a signature dish was a challenge that could define your place in the kitchen, perhaps even your future as a chef. you swallowed your nerves and replied with a quiet, “yes, chef,” your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. hoseok gave a small nod of acknowledgment, his attention once again on the stove as he continued to work. you stood there for a moment longer, watching as he moved with that same effortless grace, turning the now perfectly caramelized onions in the pan.

the kitchen became your safe spot as the hours slipped away, the clang of pots and the rhythmic sound of chopping filling the air. you were deep in the creative process, each movement purposeful, each decision calculated. the pressure of hoseok’s challenge weighed on you, but it was that very pressure that drove you, igniting the fire that had once fueled your passion for cooking. the thoughts of the previous day, the tension and confrontation, were pushed to the back of your mind as you focused on the task at hand.

you moved with an ease that came only from years of practice, your hands guiding the knife with precision as you sliced through vegetables and herbs. the familiar scent of garlic and onions filled the air as you sautéed them in a pan, the sizzling sound offering a comforting rhythm to your work. you experimented with various combinations, each one designed to evoke the flavors and essence that would truly represent the restaurant. the process was meticulous, each trial a step closer to finding the perfect dish that would encapsulate what l’espoir stood for.

but it wasn’t until your eyes landed on the jar of white kimchi that inspiration truly struck. the jar sat on the counter, seemingly forgotten amidst the array of ingredients scattered before you. the sight of it sparked a memory—an understanding of what this dish needed to be. kimchi was more than just a food; it was a symbol of resilience, diversity, and unity. the way it brought together a myriad of ingredients, each with its own distinct flavor, to create something harmonious and whole—it was the essence of what you wanted to capture.

qu'il y ait de l'espoir, let there be hope. the connection was undeniable, and suddenly, everything clicked into place. you worked quickly now, the energy flowing through you as you gathered ingredients. the white kimchi would be the star of the dish, its subtle flavors a delicate balance of sweetness and tang, with just the right amount of heat. it was different from the traditional red kimchi, yet it carried the same spirit. the idea of turning it into a ravioli—a fusion of korean and italian influences—felt like the perfect way to represent the blending of cultures, the melding of ideas that l’espoir sought to achieve.

unbeknownst to you, hoseok had entered the kitchen, his presence unnoticed as you became completely absorbed in your work. he lingered by the entrance, watching you with a mix of curiosity and something else—a hint of admiration, perhaps? he was drawn to the way you moved, the way your focus never wavered as you diced, sliced, and sautéed with unwavering determination. there was something about your dedication, the way you poured your heart into every step of the process, that intrigued him. a small smile played at the corner of his lips as he observed you in your element.

you began by preparing the filling for the ravioli, finely chopping the white kimchi and mixing it with sautéed garlic, onions, and a touch of ginger to enhance the flavors. the kimchi’s subtle acidity needed to be balanced, so you added a hint of honey to mellow the sharpness, allowing the natural sweetness of the fermented cabbage to shine through. the mixture was then combined with a smooth ricotta cheese, adding a creamy texture that would complement the crispness of the kimchi. you carefully tasted the filling, adjusting the seasoning with a pinch of salt and a sprinkle of black pepper, ensuring that each bite would carry the complexity of flavors you intended.

you moved on to making the pasta dough, your hands working methodically as you combined flour and eggs, kneading the mixture until it was smooth and elastic. the dough needed to rest, so you covered it with a damp cloth and set it aside, using the time to clean your station and prepare the rest of the components. hoseok watched as you moved around the kitchen, noting the way your brow furrowed in concentration, the way your fingers deftly handled the ingredients. there was a quiet confidence in the way you worked, a confidence that had been absent when you first started. he saw it in the way you now approached the tasks before you, with a sense of purpose and an understanding of what you wanted to achieve.

once the dough was ready, you rolled it out into thin sheets, the smooth surface gliding beneath your fingers. you carefully spooned the kimchi filling onto the dough, leaving enough space between each dollop to fold the dough over and seal the edges. your movements were precise as you pressed the edges together, forming delicate ravioli that held the promise of something unique. you then moved to the stove, bringing a pot of salted water to a gentle boil. the ravioli was carefully lowered into the water, and you watched as they floated to the surface, the dough turning tender and translucent as they cooked. the anticipation built within you, your mind racing with thoughts of how this dish would come together.

in a separate pan, you melted butter, allowing it to brown slightly to bring out a nutty aroma. you added sage leaves, their earthy scent mingling with the butter, creating a sauce that would coat the ravioli in a layer of rich flavor. as the ravioli finished cooking, you transferred them into the pan, gently tossing them in the butter sauce, ensuring that each piece was evenly coated. hoseok’s eyes never left you as you worked, his curiosity deepening as he saw the dish take shape. there was something different about you, something that set you apart from the others he had worked with. it wasn’t just your skill—it was the passion, the thoughtfulness that you put into each step of the process. he found himself drawn to it, intrigued by the way you had approached the challenge he had set for you.

you plated the ravioli with care, arranging them in a way that was both visually appealing and respectful of the dish’s simplicity. you finished with a sprinkle of toasted pine nuts for texture and a light drizzle of the remaining butter sauce, the golden liquid pooling around the edges of the plate. the dish was a delicate balance of flavors and textures, each element working in harmony to create something that was more than just food—it was a reflection of your creativity, your understanding of what it meant to cook with heart.

the air in the kitchen had been filled with a sense of anticipation. after your creation had come to life, it was impossible to keep the secret contained. other chefs and cooks, sensing the undercurrent of something new, began to trickle into the kitchen, their curiosity piqued. the atmosphere shifted as more and more of your colleagues gathered around the counter where your dish sat, its delicate aroma mingling with the scents of the day’s preparations. hoseok approached you first, his expression unreadable yet calm, his eyes glinting with a hint of interest. “tell me about this dish,” he asked, his tone firm but not unkind. it was a command wrapped in curiosity, one that invited you to share the thought process behind the creation that now held the attention of the entire kitchen.

taking a deep breath, you began to explain, your voice steady as you described the inspiration behind the dish. “i wanted to create something that reflects both the tradition and the innovation that this restaurant represents. white kimchi is often overshadowed by its red counterpart, but it’s just as rich in flavor, just as versatile. i thought, why not use it in a way that brings together different culinary worlds? the idea of combining it with something as classic as ravioli felt like the perfect way to bridge that gap. the tang of the kimchi, balanced with the creaminess of the ricotta, and then brought together by the sage butter—it’s a fusion that represents the diversity of our kitchen.”

as you spoke, you could sense the room’s mood shift. some of the chefs exchanged glances, their brows furrowed in skepticism. the idea of blending such distinct culinary traditions was, to many, a daring move. you could hear a few murmurs of disbelief—mixing korean and otalian cuisine in such an intimate way was almost sacrilegious to the purists. a chef from the back muttered something about the integrity of traditional dishes, and a few others nodded in agreement. but you stood your ground, explaining how the fusion wasn’t meant to diminish either culture, but rather to highlight the beauty in their union.

hoseok remained silent as you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours. when you finished, the room fell into an uneasy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. he didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care about—the unease among the other chefs. instead, his gaze dropped to the dish before him, and without a word, he picked up a fork, cutting through one of the ravioli with precision before bringing it to his mouth.

the room seemed to hold its breath as he chewed, his face a mask of concentration. you felt your heart pounding in your chest, the doubt from your peers weighing heavily on you, despite your best efforts to stay confident. the seconds stretched on, each one filled with an unbearable silence, until finally, hoseok’s expression shifted. a glint of something—was it surprise?—sparked in his eyes. slowly, he looked back at you, and to your utter astonishment, his lips curved into a smile. “this is amazing,” he said, his voice low but full of admiration. the tension in the room seemed to dissipate as his words sank in, and you could see the other chefs exchanging looks of surprise. “the balance of flavors, the creativity in combining these two culinary worlds—it’s exactly what i was hoping for. congratulations.”

a wave of relief washed over you, so powerful it almost brought tears to your eyes. the disbelief from your colleagues gave way to murmurs of approval as they began to gather closer, each one eager to taste the dish that had earned such high praise from chef jung. hoseok stepped back, allowing the others to try the ravioli, his smile lingering as he watched their reactions. he didn’t need to say more—his approval was enough to turn the tide of skepticism. as the chefs began to taste your creation, you could see their initial doubt melt away, replaced with genuine appreciation for the flavors you had brought together. it wasn’t long before the dish became the talk of the kitchen, its success spreading quickly through the restaurant’s staff. praise followed from all corners, each compliment fueling your sense of accomplishment. it was as though the entire kitchen had been given a new burst of energy, your dish acting as a catalyst for inspiration.

the next few days were a whirlwind of activity. news of the dish reached the restaurant’s management, and before you knew it, there was talk of adding it to the menu as the restaurant’s special. hoseok worked with you to fine-tune the presentation, ensuring that every detail was perfect. the dish quickly gained popularity among the patrons, its unique fusion of flavors creating a buzz that spread beyond the restaurant’s walls.

the recognition came swiftly. a local food critic wrote a glowing review, praising the dish for its innovative approach and its seamless blending of cultures. soon after, a food magazine reached out, requesting an interview with you and hoseok to discuss the inspiration behind the creation. but the pinnacle of the dish’s success came when the restaurant received a request to film a commercial, showcasing the process of creating the now-famous white kimchi ravioli.

the day of the shoot arrived, and the kitchen was abuzz with excitement. you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration as you prepared for the filming, knowing that this was a rare opportunity to showcase your skills on such a large platform. hoseok introduced you to one of the chefs who would be working with you for the shoot—kim seokjin. he was tall and handsome, with an easy smile that instantly put you at ease. there was something about his demeanor that was both professional and friendly, a balance that made working with him feel natural.

“nice to meet you,” seokjin said with a grin, his hand outstretched. “i’ve heard a lot about your dish.” you shook his hand, smiling back. “likewise. i’m looking forward to working with you.”

hoseok, standing off to the side with the director, watched the exchange with a calm expression, but you could sense the subtle shift in his demeanor. there was a tension in the way he stood, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the interaction between you and seokjin. it was as though something about the easy camaraderie between you and the other chef rubbed him the wrong way, but he said nothing, his face a mask of professionalism.

the filming began, and you and seokjin worked together seamlessly, preparing the ingredients for the dish. the cameras rolled as you sliced through vegetables, your hands moving with the precision that had been honed through years of practice. he was skilled, his movements confident as he worked alongside you, but there was a moment when he began to cut the kimchi in a way that you knew could be improved.

“seokjin, let me show you something,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. you took his hands in yours, guiding the knife through the kimchi with a more efficient motion. your fingers brushed against his as you adjusted his grip, your eyes meeting his as you explained the technique. “of you cut it this way, it’ll keep the pieces more uniform and release the flavors more evenly.”

his gaze locked with yours, his smile widening as he nodded. “thanks, that’s really helpful,” he replied, his tone warm and appreciative. the moment was brief, but the connection between you and him was undeniable. it was a simple act of collaboration, but to hoseok, who stood watching from the sidelines, it seemed to be something more. his jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to suppress the surge of irritation that welled up within him. it was irrational, he knew that, but the sight of you working so closely with seokjin, the way your hands had lingered on his, sparked a jealousy that he struggled to control.

as the scene wrapped up, you turned to hoseok, eager to know if he was pleased with how the shoot had gone. “chef, how was it?” you asked, your voice laced with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. his response was clipped, his tone betraying the frustration he was trying to hide. “it was fine,” he said shortly, his eyes avoiding yours. without waiting for your reply, he turned on his heel and retreated back into the kitchen, leaving you standing there with a sense of unease.

seokjin, noticing the tension, turned to you with a soft smile. “it was nice meeting you,” he said, his voice sincere. “you did great today.”

“thanks, seokjin,” you replied, forcing a smile. “you too.” as he made his way back to his station, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. hoseok’s sudden coldness lingered in your mind, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself that you had done your best. still, the uncertainty gnawed at you as you followed him back into the kitchen, the familiar scents and sounds offering little comfort.

you hesitated at the entrance, unsure whether to approach him, but before you could decide, hoseok’s voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. “kim yerim,” he called, the sound of the name causing your heart to skip a beat. “come to my office.”

the girl peered over, a smile gracing her face as she obliged, following hoseok out of the kitchen and toward his office. the sight made your stomach churn, as did the sound of silence. you didn't miss it, the look he gave you before slipping out of the station. it was a look that you couldn't quite define, but it was enough to make your blood run cold. no matter how supportive he was, old habits died hard. at the end of the day, he was still the same man who did as he pleased with the women willing to give him a piece of their dignity.

chaeyoung approached you not long after the tension-filled exchange in the kitchen. her eyes were bright with excitement, a wide grin spreading across her face. “you were amazing today!” she exclaimed, her voice full of genuine admiration. “the way you handled everything, from the dish to the filming, it was perfect.” you smiled at her praise, feeling a warmth spread through you. “thank you, chae,” you replied, your voice soft but appreciative. the validation from your peers meant as much as the recognition from hoseok.

she wasn’t done, though. she leaned in slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “and you and seokjin,” she began, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret, “seemed to have something going on there. the way he was looking at you—” you laughed, shaking your head at the implication. “no, no, there’s nothing going on,” you denied, though you couldn’t stop the slight blush that crept into your cheeks at the memory of seokjin’s warm smile.

she raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she continued, “the team is going out for celebratory drinks tonight. it’s all on your behalf, so you have to come.” you hesitated, the idea of joining everyone for drinks sounding appealing yet a little daunting. “i’ll think about it,” you said, not committing but leaving the door open.

before you could say more, another voice chimed in, the tone playful yet insistent. “you’ll be there.” you turned to see seokjin, a knowing smile on his lips as he looked at you expectantly. his presence was both reassuring and slightly unnerving, given how easily he seemed to be able to read your thoughts. you found yourself nodding, caught up in his easy charm. “okay, i’ll be there,” you agreed, pausing before adding with a bit of uncertainty, “are you coming too?”

he shrugged, his expression teasing. “only if you want me to,” he said, his tone light but laced with something more. chaeyoung couldn’t hold back her giggles, her support for the budding camaraderie between you two evident in the way she swooned slightly. “drinks at nine,” she reminded, her voice full of enthusiasm.

but before you could fully relax into the idea of a fun night out, another voice cut through the conversation, this one colder and more authoritative. “what drinks?”

the three of you turned to see hoseok standing a few feet away, his expression stoic, his eyes focused intently on the three of you. chaeyoung, caught off guard, fumbled over her words, her earlier confidence evaporating under Hoseok’s intense gaze. “uh, we were just, um, planning to go out for drinks to celebrate, and we were wondering if you’d like to come too?” she managed to get out, her voice faltering slightly with each word.

you inwardly winced at the thought of hoseok joining. the situation already felt complicated enough without adding his presence to the mix, especially after the way he’d been watching you and seokjin earlier. but to your dismay, his expression didn’t change as he responded, “of course, i’ll be coming.” there was a finality in his tone that left no room for argument. you avoided looking at him, unsure of how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. instead, you turned back to seokjin, who was still standing beside you. his warm smile hadn’t faltered, and the ease in his demeanor seemed unaffected by hoseok’s looming presence.

hoseok, however, seemed to notice the silent exchange between you and seokjin. his eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice took on an edge as he asked, “and seokjin, will you be coming too?” he met his gaze calmly, his smile never wavering. “yes, i’ll be there.”

a smirk played on hoseok’s lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “great,” he said, the word carrying a weight that seemed to linger in the air long after it was spoken.

the conversation ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. chaeyoung glanced between you, seokjin, and hoseok, clearly sensing the undercurrent of tension but unsure how to address it. after a moment, she cleared her throat, forcing a cheerful tone as she said, “well, i’ll see you guys tonight, then!”

she quickly excused herself, leaving you alone with seokjin and hoseok. the latter’s eyes remained on you for a moment longer before he turned on his heel and walked away, heading back toward his office. aeokjin turned to you, his voice gentle as he said, “don’t worry about it. tonight will be fun, i promise.” you nodded, though the knot in your stomach didn’t entirely loosen.

getting ready for the evening felt different than it had for other nights out. the tension that had brewed all day still lingered, and as you stood before the mirror in your room, smoothing the floral dress you’d chosen, a part of you wondered if going was even a good idea. but you’d made a commitment, and besides, after everything that had happened, a part of you wanted to celebrate. you had achieved something noteworthy, and despite the awkwardness with hoseok, there was a sense of pride that you couldn’t ignore.

your hair, which you had usually kept tied up or tucked away beneath a chef’s hat, cascaded freely over your shoulders. the soft waves framed your face, and you had taken extra care with your makeup, applying just enough to enhance your features without overdoing it. you hardly recognized yourself as you gave one last glance in the mirror, but the reflection was a pleasant surprise. tonight, you weren’t just the diligent chef striving to prove herself—you were someone who could allow herself to feel beautiful.

when you finally walked into the barbecue bar, the warm, smoky scent of grilled meat filled the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of your peers. you were greeted enthusiastically by your colleagues, their smiles wide and their voices carrying over the lively buzz of the place. chaeyoung, already a bit tipsy, threw her arms around you, her eyes sparkling with delight. “you made it!” she cheered, pulling you into a tight hug. “and look at you, so pretty tonight!”

you smiled, trying to soak in the compliments, but your gaze drifted instinctively toward hoseok, who was seated at the end of the table. his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in his expression—something stern, something unreadable. you looked away quickly, the knot in your stomach tightening, only to catch seokjin’s gaze instead.

to your surprise, his face lit up when he saw you, and before you could react, he was closing the distance between you and pulling you into a warm hug. “you look prettier than usual,” he said, his tone playful but sincere. his eyes scanned your floral dress, taking in the way it flowed around you, your hair loose and soft, the faint makeup you had applied. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you smiled, feeling a bit shy at his directness. “thank you,” you managed, the words coming out softer than you intended. “you don’t look so bad yourself.”

he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and released you from the hug. from the corner of your eye, you noticed the way hoseok’s hand tightened around his shot glass, his knuckles going white. a moment later, he downed the entire shot in one go, the glass hitting the table with a bit too much force.

you took a seat, finding yourself in the center of the group, seokjin to your left, chaeyoung to your right, with hoseok directly across from you. the conversation flowed easily, the drinks making everyone more relaxed, more willing to laugh and share stories. chaeyoung, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, leaned in closer to you at one point, her voice a bit louder than usual. “you and seokjin are so adorable together,” she teased, her words slightly slurred. you felt your face heat up, and you laughed nervously, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re not together,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, though you could feel the curious stares of your colleagues.

seokjin leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “for now,” he added, his voice low enough that only those closest to you could hear. the whole table erupted in laughter, everyone except hoseok. he didn’t laugh. Instead, his face hardened, and he slammed his glass on the table with enough force to silence the room. without a word, he pushed back his chair and stood, heading toward the bathroom, leaving the table in an uncomfortable silence.

seokjin was the first to break the awkwardness, his voice a bit softer this time as he leaned in toward you. “don’t worry about him,” he said, his tone reassuring. “he’s just—” he paused, searching for the right words, but ultimately shook his head. “it’s not your fault.” you nodded, but the uneasy feeling in your chest didn’t dissipate. the rest of the group tried to continue the conversation, but it was clear that hoseok’s sudden departure had put a damper on the mood.

when he finally returned, it was obvious he had been drinking too much. his steps were slightly unsteady, and there was a glazed look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. you watched him carefully, noticing how his hand shook slightly as he poured himself another drink. concerned, you leaned in closer to him, your voice low. “are you going to be able to make it home?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

he looked at you, his expression hard to read, his eyes clouded by the alcohol. “what’s it to you?” he slurred, his words coming out a bit harsher than he probably intended. you bit back a sigh, your patience starting to wear thin. turning away from him, you addressed the others at the table. “i’m sorry, but i think i’m going to have to call it a night,” you said, pausing to glance at hoseok, who was swaying slightly in his seat. “i’ll need to drive hoseok home.”

the group erupted in protests, insisting that you didn’t need to take responsibility, but seokjin, who had been quietly observing, stood up and hugged you. “if you need anything, call me,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. you nodded, appreciating his support, and helped hoseok to his feet. he was surprisingly heavy, leaning against you more than you expected as you guided him out of the bar. the night air was cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth inside the bar. hoseok mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t quite make out, but you were too focused on getting him to his car to ask him to repeat it.

when you finally reached his car, he fumbled for his keys, dropping them once before managing to hand them to you. “you’re mean,” he muttered, his voice petulant, catching you off guard. the change in his demeanor was startling—gone was the stern, composed chef you were used to, replaced by someone far more vulnerable and childlike. taken aback, you looked at him, your brow furrowed. “put your seatbelt on if you’re sober enough to know how,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind.

he scoffed, his expression challenging as he tried and failed to buckle his seatbelt. the buckle slipped from his grasp twice before you finally sighed and leaned over him to secure it yourself. as you clicked the seatbelt into place, you glanced up and found his eyes fixed on you. his gaze was softer now, the earlier harshness replaced with something else, something that made your heart skip a beat.

flustered, you quickly looked away, securing him in before retreating to the driver’s seat. you started the car, the engine purring softly as you pulled out of the parking lot. “where do you live?” you asked, glancing over at him. but there was no response. when you looked over, you saw that he had already fallen asleep, his head resting against the window. you couldn’t help but scoff quietly, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. “lightweight,” you muttered under your breath.

with no other choice, you decided to drive him to your place. the drive was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sigh from hoseok as he shifted in his sleep. by the time you pulled up to your apartment, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. but as you looked over at hoseok, still fast asleep in the passenger seat, you knew that this night wasn’t over yet. there was still the matter of getting him inside, of figuring out what to do next. and as much as you wanted to just let him sleep it off in the car, you knew you couldn’t leave him out there.

the night air was crisp as you pulled into your driveway, the headlights of your car slicing through the darkness. your heart pounded with an anxious rhythm, still reeling from the night’s events. hoseok was fast asleep in the passenger seat, his head slumped against the window, oblivious to the world around him. you killed the engine, the sudden silence in the car amplifying the sound of your breath as you gathered the courage to wake him.

“hoseok,” you murmured softly, reaching out to nudge his shoulder. he stirred slightly, but his eyes remained closed. you shook him a bit harder, and this time, his eyelids fluttered open, groggy and unfocused. “we’re here,” you added gently. he blinked up at you, disoriented. “where?” his voice was thick with sleep, the usual sharpness of his tone dulled by the alcohol.

you sighed, stepping out of the car and walking around to his side. opening the door, you leaned in, unbuckling his seatbelt. “you fell asleep before you could tell me where you live,” you explained, your voice laced with mild frustration as you hoisted him out of the car, his body heavy and uncooperative. as you helped him into the house, his steps were sluggish, his arm slung over your shoulders for support. he stumbled slightly as you led him to the couch, guiding him down as he collapsed onto the cushions with a weary sigh. the warmth of your home enveloped you both, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

“always been a lightweight?” you teased lightly, attempting to lighten the mood as you watched him sprawl out on the couch, his long limbs taking up most of the space. hoseok groaned, his hand coming up to rub his face. “i don’t drink,” he muttered, his voice muffled by his hand. he paused, glancing up at you with an expression that was oddly vulnerable. “it was my first time.”

your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “your first time? why on earth did you decide to drink tonight then?” the question slipped out before you could stop it, your curiosity piqued. he shifted on the couch, rolling onto his back so he could look at you directly. his gaze was intense, almost too much to bear. “because of you,” he said simply, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something that made your stomach twist with unease.

you blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. hoseok’s eyes darkened, a scowl tugging at his lips. “maybe you should ask seokjin,” he retorted, the mocking edge to his voice making you flinch.

the implication behind his words was clear, and it stung. you scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to dismiss it. “he’s just a friend,” you argued, but the pause before you added, “and even if he wasn’t, so what?” made the words feel hollow. you turned away, intending to retreat and give yourself some distance from the tension that had thickened the air. but before you could take a step, hoseok’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist in a firm grip. you gasped as he pulled you back, your body stumbling and falling against his, your back pressing into his chest as his arms encircled your waist.

“don’t,” he murmured into your shoulder, his voice low and almost pleading. you could feel his breath warm against your skin, the closeness of him making your heart race. “i don’t like you being so close to him.” his words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of shock and confusion rendering you silent. this was hoseok—strict, professional, always in control—yet here he was, holding onto you as if you might slip away.

he tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “i only want you to be like this with me,” he confessed, the raw honesty in his voice making your breath hitch. you swallowed hard, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. “you’re drunk,” you protested weakly, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

but he shook his head, the movement causing his hair to brush against your skin. “i know exactly what I’m talking about,” he insisted, his voice steady despite the alcohol in his system. he hesitated for a moment before continuing, his next words sending a jolt through you. “you brought the hope back to l’espoir.”

you didn’t know how to respond, your mind a whirlwind of emotions as you tried to process the weight of his confession. but before you could form a coherent thought, hoseok’s grip on you loosened, his body going slack as sleep claimed him once more. you were left there, sitting in stunned silence, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of the situation settled over you. he had just bared his soul to you, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

when you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the warm, enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. it was a comforting scent, one that slowly coaxed you out of the remnants of sleep. you stretched lazily, the morning light filtering softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to revel in the peace, before the memories of last night came rushing back—hoseok’s confession, the unexpected closeness, the weight of his words still lingering in your mind.

you rose from the bed, the soft padding of your feet on the cool floor the only sound in the quiet house. the scent of coffee grew stronger as you made your way to the kitchen, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. as you rounded the corner, you found him standing at the counter, his back to you as he poured steaming coffee into two mugs. he was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, though slightly rumpled from sleep, his hair tousled in a way that made him look more approachable than usual.

he turned at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes locking onto yours with an expression that was surprisingly gentle. “morning,” he greeted, his voice still carrying that low, warm timbre that had made your heart race the night before. “you want some coffee?”

you nodded, feeling a bit awkward in the face of his casual demeanor after everything that had happened. “yes, please,” you managed to reply, your voice coming out a bit softer than you intended. you moved to sit at the small kitchen table, the wooden chair creaking slightly as you settled into it. hoseok handed you a mug, and you took it with a quiet word of thanks. the rich, earthy scent of the coffee was even more intoxicating up close, and you noticed that it had been made using a french press—a sign of care and attention. you took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. “thank you for this,” you said, gesturing to the coffee, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling back to the events of last night.

he leaned against the counter, cradling his own mug between his hands as he regarded you with a calm gaze. “it’s me who should be thanking you,” he replied, a hint of sincerity in his tone that you weren’t used to hearing from him. “for taking care of me when I was, well, not at my best.” you hesitated, swirling the coffee in your cup as you tried to find the right words. “are you feeling better? did you sober up?”

he nodded, taking a slow sip from his mug before setting it down on the counter. “yeah. i’m good now.” there was a moment of silence, the two of you just sipping your coffee, the unspoken tension between you almost palpable. your thoughts drifted back to the way he had pulled you close last night, the confession that had left you reeling. the memory of it made your cheeks flush, and you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to the implications of his words.

as if sensing the direction of your thoughts, hoseok’s lips curved into a smirk. he tilted his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with something that made your pulse quicken. “you’re thinking about what i said last night, aren’t you?” you nearly choked on your coffee, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. “i, well,” you stammered, trying to compose yourself as you fumbled for a response. the memory of him holding you, his breath warm against your skin as he confessed his feelings, was too vivid to ignore.

his smirk softened into a more serious expression, his gaze unwavering as he continued. “i meant every word of it.” his tone was resolute, leaving no room for doubt, and the intensity of his gaze made it clear that he was being completely honest. your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. you opened your mouth to respond, but found yourself at a loss, your thoughts a jumble of confusion and emotions. “i, um, i have to get to work,” you finally managed to say, your voice a bit shaky as you clung to the one thing you could focus on—the need to be on time.

hoseok studied you for a moment, as if contemplating whether to press the matter further, before raising his hand in a gesture of understanding. “i’ll drive you,” he offered, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, reassuring smile. you shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “you don’t have to, i can—”

but he cut you off with a gentle insistence. “i want to,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. realizing there was no point in protesting, you simply nodded, your thoughts still in a whirlwind as you finished your coffee in silence. the ride to work was quiet, but not uncomfortable. hoseok seemed to be in a much better mood, the tension from the previous night having dissipated, leaving behind a sense of calm. he hummed softly to the music playing on the radio, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel as he drove.

when you arrived at the restaurant, you turned to him, offering a small smile of gratitude. “thanks for the ride.” he smiled back, a genuine warmth in his eyes that made you feel a bit more at ease. “anytime.” you watched as he walked into the restaurant ahead of you, his posture relaxed, a stark contrast to the way he had been behaving recently. it didn’t take long for you to notice that his good mood seemed to linger throughout the day, a lightness in his steps that was unusual for him. he didn’t snap at anyone, didn’t call any of the girls into his office like he usually did. it was as if something had shifted within him, and the change left you stunned, unable to shake the feeling that something significant had occurred between the two of you.

the buzz of the kitchen hummed around you as you settled into your routine, the familiar clatter of pots and pans mingling with the sharp sizzle of ingredients hitting hot oil. there was an unspoken rhythm to the place, a steady flow of movement and sound that kept the energy high, but today, there was an undercurrent of tension. whispers had already started to circulate, the staff exchanging wary glances as they awaited the inevitable—hoseok’s arrival. it was almost a ritual by now, the way he’d sweep in with that cold, calculating gaze, ready to single out yet another unfortunate girl to pull into his office. the atmosphere would shift, voices would lower, and everyone would brace themselves for whatever mood he was in that day.

but when he finally stepped into the kitchen, something was different. the usual noise faded into an expectant silence, all eyes turning towards him as he made his way through the bustling space. you watched as he paused, his gaze sweeping over the room, and for a moment, you thought you caught a glimpse of the stern, unyielding expression that had become all too familiar. but then, to everyone’s shock, his lips curled into a smile—an actual, genuine smile—and he offered a simple, “thank you, everyone, for working hard today.”

the reaction was immediate and palpable. people exchanged stunned glances, the tension in the room dissolving into an almost disbelieving murmur. no one quite knew how to react, the abrupt change in his demeanor leaving everyone off-balance. it was as if they were waiting for the punchline to some elaborate joke, but instead, hoseok simply continued walking, his steps light, his mood shockingly bright.

your heart skipped a beat when he started moving in your direction, his gaze locked onto you with a strange mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. you quickly turned back to your station, trying to steady your breathing as you busied yourself with your tasks, hoping he’d pass by without another word. but then he stopped right beside you, his presence looming, and you felt a prickle of anticipation at the base of your spine. “drop your shift,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you froze, your hands stilling over the cutting board as his words registered. Slowly, you turned to face him, confusion knitting your brows together. “what do you mean?” you asked, your voice laced with uncertainty. hoseok met your gaze, his eyes glinting with that same determined look. “you have the rest of the day off,” he clarified, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the words hit you like a sudden breeze, your heart leaping at the unexpected reprieve. it was a rare gift, one that filled you with a rush of excitement. your mind immediately started racing with all the possibilities of what you could do with the extra time, a smile beginning to spread across your face as you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. but just as quickly as the excitement rose, it was tempered by his next words. “on one condition,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you blinked, the smile faltering slightly as you processed his words. “what condition?” you asked, your tone cautious, though the curiosity was already beginning to seep in. he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you spend the rest of the day with me,” he said, the request both unexpected and strangely intimate.

your heart skipped again, this time with a mix of surprise and something that felt suspiciously like anticipation. you hesitated, your mind running through the implications of his request, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something earnest and sincere—that made it hard to refuse. and truthfully, part of you didn’t want to. “all right,” you found yourself saying, the word slipping out before you could overthink it.

hoseok’s smile widened, his expression softening with something that looked a lot like relief. “good,” he replied, his tone light, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something that hinted at how much this meant to him. “i’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.” with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind buzzing with questions. the kitchen slowly returned to its usual rhythm, but the earlier tension was replaced by a new kind of energy—one that left you both excited and apprehensive about what the rest of the day might hold.

as you quickly wrapped up your station and informed your supervisor of your unexpected early departure, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of anticipation settle over you. there was no telling what hoseok had in mind, but as you stepped out of the kitchen and made your way to the front of the restaurant, you knew one thing for certain—today was going to be different.

the day stretched out before you like a blank canvas, one that you never imagined would be spent alongside hoseok. as you stepped out of the restaurant, the warmth of the sun embraced your skin, the bustling sounds of the city creating a lively backdrop to your unexpected adventure. hoseok guided you toward the bus stop, the two of you walking in comfortable silence, the earlier events in the kitchen still buzzing in your mind.

when the bus arrived, packed with the usual weekday crowd, you hesitated at the door. he stepped in first, his eyes scanning the interior for an empty seat. finding none, you both prepared to stand, but then, just as you were about to grab hold of the nearest rail, he gently nudged a young man sitting close by. there was something firm yet polite in his tone as he asked the man to stand and let you sit. the young man, caught off guard, quickly obliged, and you found yourself looking up at hoseok in surprise. “take the seat,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.

you blinked, not used to such gestures from him—usually, his demeanor was all business, but today, he seemed different, more considerate, almost caring. you muttered a quiet “thank you” as you sat down, the unexpected kindness making your heart skip a beat. hoseok stood beside you, holding onto the overhead rail, his posture relaxed as he looked out of the window. the bus rumbled forward, carrying the two of you through the city streets, the vibrant blur of people and places passing by. you couldn’t help but glance up at him every now and then, curious about the change in his behavior, about what had prompted him to be so attentive. it wasn’t long before curiosity got the better of you.

“so, where are we going?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him. hoseok smiled, a playful glint in his eyes. “it’s a surprise,” he said, leaving no room for further questions. you sighed in mock frustration, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your growing excitement. there was something thrilling about not knowing where the day would take you, something about being in the moment, just the two of you, that made you feel more alive than you had in a long time.

eventually, the bus came to a stop, and hoseok gestured for you to follow him. you stepped off the bus together, the cool breeze ruffling your hair as he led you through a series of winding streets. the further you walked, the more the hustle and bustle of the main roads faded away, replaced by quieter, narrower lanes lined with small shops and cozy cafés. finally, he slowed down, and you looked up to see a small, unassuming restaurant tucked between two taller buildings. the sign above the door was simple, the name “seong’s bistro” written in elegant script. It wasn’t anything grand, but there was a charm to it, a warmth that made you feel like you were about to step into someone’s home rather than a restaurant.

“this is it,” he said, turning to you with a smile. “come on, let’s go in.” he held the door open for you, and as you walked inside, you were greeted by the welcoming scent of home-cooked meals. the interior was just as cozy as the exterior, with wooden tables, soft lighting, and walls adorned with framed photographs of what appeared to be family gatherings and happy customers. there was a sense of history there, of stories shared over meals, and it made you feel instantly at ease.

a man in his late thirties, with a friendly smile and an apron tied around his waist, approached you both. his features bore a striking resemblance to hoseok’s, though his face was softer, more rounded, and his demeanor exuded warmth. “my cousin,” the man exclaimed, pulling hoseok into a quick hug before turning to you. “and you must be the famous chef I’ve heard so much about.” you blinked in surprise, taken aback by his words. “famous?” you repeated, a bit flustered.

the man nodded enthusiastically. “of course! i’ve heard all about your kimchi ravioli. it’s an honor to finally meet you in person.” you felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, not quite used to such praise. “thank you,” you said, smiling shyly. “but i’m not sure if i’m as famous as you think.”

“nonsense,” hoseok’s cousin replied, waving off your modesty. “your dish is incredible. in fact, i have a little surprise for both of you.” he exchanged a knowing glance with hoseok, who grinned and placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you toward a corner table. you sat down, your curiosity piqued, and watched as hoseok’s cousin disappeared into the kitchen. the restaurant was quiet, only a few other customers scattered about, their soft conversations blending with the faint music playing overhead.

after a few moments, the kitchen doors swung open, and two chefs emerged, each carrying a plate. as they approached, your breath caught in your throat. on each plate was a perfectly presented serving of your kimchi ravioli, the dish that had won over so many palates. the sight of it here, in this small, family-run restaurant, filled you with a sense of pride and disbelief.

“how did you—?” you began, turning to hoseok in astonishment. he simply smiled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “i made sure to spread the word about your dish,” he said, his voice filled with genuine pride. “you’re a national hit now.”

your heart swelled with emotion, a mix of gratitude and disbelief washing over you. The fact that he had gone out of his way to do this for you, to share your creation with others, touched you deeply. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice thick with sincerity. “i can’t believe you did this.” hoseok’s smile softened, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than usual. “you deserve it,” he said simply.

the meal that followed was nothing short of perfect. the ravioli was just as you had imagined it would be, the flavors dancing on your tongue with each bite. it was a strange but wonderful experience, tasting your own creation in a setting like this, surrounded by people who appreciated it just as much as you did. every now and then, you would glance over at hoseok, and each time, he was watching you with a contented smile, as if seeing you enjoy the meal was satisfaction enough for him.

when the plates were finally empty, he paid the bill despite your protests, and the two of you stepped out into the cool afternoon air. the sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over the city, and as you walked, the conversation flowed easily between you. you found yourself laughing more, the usual walls between you and hoseok slowly crumbling as the day went on.

at one point, you passed by a quaint little chocolate shop with a beautifully arranged display in the window. you stopped in your tracks, drawn to the sight of the delicately crafted chocolates, each one a tiny masterpiece. he noticed your interest and leaned in to peer at the display with you. “which one catches your eye?” he asked, his tone light. you pointed to a small box of chocolates dusted with cocoa powder, their rich, velvety appearance almost too tempting to resist. “those,” you said, a note of longing in your voice. “they look so soft and chewy.”

without another word, he pushed open the door to the shop and stepped inside. you watched from the window as he spoke to the shopkeeper, gesturing toward the chocolates you had pointed out. a few moments later, he emerged with a small box in hand, his smile wide as he extended it to you. “for you,” he said simply.

you took the box from him, your fingers brushing against his in the process. the gesture, though small, warmed your heart. “thank you,” you said, smiling up at him. you opened the box and took out a small pick, ready to try one of the chocolates. but instead of popping it into your own mouth, you surprised hoseok by holding it up to his lips, silently offering him the first taste. he looked at you, momentarily taken aback, before his lips parted slightly, allowing you to place the chocolate on his tongue.

his eyes widened as he savored the taste, a look of pure delight crossing his face. “wow,” he murmured, swallowing. “that’s really good.” you grinned, pleased by his reaction, and finally took a piece for yourself. the chocolate melted in your mouth, rich and smooth, the cocoa powder adding a subtle bitterness that balanced perfectly with the sweetness. it was a moment of shared indulgence, a small but meaningful exchange that seemed to bring the two of you even closer.

as you continued your walk, the conversation shifted to more personal topics. you asked him about his restaurant, about how he had come up with the name “l’espoir.” for a moment, hoseok hesitated, his usual confidence wavering. but then he sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “i’ve always been the one to bring joy to the people close to me,” he began, his voice quieter now. “but when my father was dying, i had to get serious. i had to take on responsibilities I wasn’t ready for, and after he passed, it was like i lost a part of myself. i lost hope.”

you felt a pang of sympathy, the memory of your own loss surfacing in your mind. “i know how that feels,” you said softly. “when my mother passed, i felt like i lost a part of myself too. everything seemed to lose its color, its meaning. cooking was the only thing that kept me going, the only way i could hold on to the memories i had with her.” hoseok’s eyes softened even more at your words, the weight of shared grief settling between you like a silent understanding. he nodded, as if acknowledging the invisible thread that now connected the two of you—one woven from loss, but also from the strength you both found in your passion for cooking.

“i started the restaurant because i wanted to bring that hope back,” he continued, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve. “for myself, and for others. i wanted to create a place where people could feel joy, where they could find comfort in food the way i did. that’s why I named it ‘l’espoir’—hope.” you walked in silence for a moment, absorbing the depth of his words, the sincerity behind them. there was a new layer to hoseok that you hadn’t seen before, a vulnerability that he had hidden behind his confident, sometimes stern exterior. it made you see him in a different light, not just as your superior or the chef who could command a kitchen with ease, but as someone who had faced the same kind of pain you had, someone who had chosen to turn that pain into something beautiful.

“i’m glad you did,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm. “it’s a place where people can find more than just a meal. it’s a place where they can find a part of themselves, a piece of happiness, even if just for a moment.” he looked at you, his expression one of quiet gratitude. “thank you,” he said, his voice soft but full of emotion. “it means a lot to hear that from you.”

the rest of the walk to your house was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. the bond between you felt stronger now, deeper, as if you had crossed an invisible line from mere colleagues to something more—friends, perhaps, or something that had the potential to grow even further. when you finally reached your door, you turned to him with a smile. “thank you for today, hoseok. it was unexpected, but in the best way.”

he returned your smile, but there was something more in his eyes now, a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. “i should be the one thanking you,” he said, taking a step closer. “you gave me hope today.” his words sent a flutter through your chest, but before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing gently against your forehead. the kiss was soft, barely more than a whisper of a touch, but it sent a wave of warmth through you, leaving you momentarily stunned. your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as you looked up at him.

when he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, something tender and unspoken. “i’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice low, as if not to break the fragile moment between you. you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. your mind was still reeling from the feel of his lips on your skin, the unexpected intimacy of it. as you watched him walk away, your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of emotions swirling within you—confusion, excitement, but most of all, a sense of anticipation for what might come next.

once he was out of sight, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your fingers lightly brushing the spot where he had kissed you. the warmth lingered, a reminder of the day’s unexpected turns, and as you stepped inside your home, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. the rest of the evening passed in a blur. You replayed the events of the day in your mind, each memory filled with vivid detail—the way hoseok had stood up for you on the bus, the pride in his voice when he introduced you to his cousin, the taste of the kimchi ravioli you had created, and finally, the soft, tender kiss he had left on your forehead. each moment felt significant, like pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together, forming a picture you had yet to fully understand.

the next few days with hoseok were like a dream, a soft, hazy blur of moments that felt too good to be true. he was always there—smiling, friendly, attentive in ways that made your heart skip a beat. whether it was a simple greeting in the morning or the way he’d casually ask if you needed anything during the day, his presence was a constant source of warmth and comfort. he had a way of making even the most mundane tasks feel special. if you were chopping vegetables, he’d find a reason to stand beside you, sometimes offering a quick tip on technique, other times just making light conversation that left you smiling. his laughter was infectious, filling the kitchen with a bright, cheerful energy that everyone seemed to notice.

it didn’t take long for the other chefs to start talking. chaeyoung, in particular, couldn’t help but ask you about it one day, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “hey, have you noticed anything different about chef jung lately?” she asked, her voice low as she leaned in closer. you felt your cheeks warm, but you played it cool, feigning innocence with a smile. “no, why do you ask?”

chaeyoung’s eyes narrowed playfully. “oh, come on! don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how he’s been around you lately. it’s like you’re his favorite or something.” your heart fluttered at the thought, but you shook your head, still maintaining the pretense. “i really haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “maybe he’s just in a good mood lately.”

she gave you a knowing look, but before she could press further, hoseok entered the kitchen. as usual, his presence had an immediate effect on everyone—conversations stopped, eyes turned to him. there was an unspoken respect for him that filled the air whenever he walked in, a mix of admiration and a bit of fear. you had grown used to this silence, no longer feeling the same tension as before. Instead, you found yourself feeling at ease, knowing that his attention was likely to land on you with a smile or a kind word. but today was different.

“choi yongsun,” he called out, his voice cutting through the silence. the name took a moment to register. you were in the middle of organizing the ingredients for the day, your mind still half-focused on the conversation with chaeyoung. but when you finally registered the name, your heart stuttered in your chest. a pause followed. the kind of pause that feels like an eternity, stretching the moment out until it’s almost unbearable. you looked up, confusion washing over you as you turned to see another girl—choi yongsun—standing frozen, her eyes wide as she stared at hoseok. “come to my office,” he finished

your entire world stopped spinning. it felt as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. the warmth and comfort you had felt all week vanished, replaced by a cold, gnawing sensation in the pit of your stomach. you couldn’t move, couldn’t think, as the reality of what was happening slowly dawned on you. you were invisible again. hoseok’s attention, his kindness, the gentle smiles and lingering looks—they hadn’t meant what you thought they did. all of it had been a cruel illusion, a fleeting moment that had now passed, leaving you behind like a forgotten afterthought.

your heart shattered in your chest, the pieces scattering in a thousand directions. a dull, numbing pain spread through you, making it hard to focus, hard to keep your composure. you watched as yongsun hesitated, glancing around the room as if seeking reassurance. hoseok’s gaze softened as he met hers, and in that moment, it became clear—she was the one he was focused on now. not you.

blood rushed to your head, the heat of embarrassment and hurt rising until it felt like your skin was on fire. the kitchen, once a place of warmth and comfort, now felt like a cage, trapping you in a nightmare you hadn’t seen coming. you needed to get out. before anyone could notice the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you spun on your heel and bolted from the kitchen. your breath came in shallow gasps as you fled down the hallway, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. the walls blurred as you ran, the sting of tears clouding your vision.

you pushed open the door to the street outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap. you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. not until you found a cab, your hands shaking as you flagged one down. the ride home was a blur of motion and suppressed sobs. the reality of what had just happened hit you in waves, each one more painful than the last. how had you been so naive? how had you let yourself believe, even for a second, that he saw you as more than just another chef in his kitchen?

the thoughts spiraled, tearing at your already fragile heart. by the time you reached your door, the dam broke. tears flowed freely now, your body shaking with the force of your sobs as you fumbled with your keys, the metal slipping in your trembling hands. finally inside, you collapsed against the door, the sobs wracking your body as you sank to the floor. the realization of how deeply you had let yourself fall, of how thoroughly you had been misled, was crushing. it wasn’t just about hoseok’s attention—it was about the hope you had allowed to bloom, the fragile seed of something more that you had nurtured, only to have it ripped away in an instant.

you had been so foolish to think that he could see you, truly see you, as anything more than just another girl in his life. all the moments you had shared, the laughter, the smiles, the tender words—they were nothing more than fleeting distractions to him, easily replaced the moment someone else caught his eye. and then, as you sat alone on your cold floor, the weight of your own heartbreak settling over you, the tears wouldn’t stop. they flowed endlessly, a river of pain that seemed to have no end, each sob tearing through you with a force that left you breathless.

your thoughts were a tangled mess of hurt, anger, and a deep, aching sadness that hollowed you out from the inside. you had wanted to believe in something more, something real, but now all you were left with was the bitter taste of disappointment. it was over. whatever connection you thought you had with him was nothing more than a cruel joke, a figment of your imagination that had shattered into a million pieces.

the sobs wracked your body, each one tearing through you with a force that left you trembling on the floor. you clutched at your chest as if trying to hold the pieces of your shattered heart together, but it was no use. the pain was too much, the disappointment too deep. tears blurred your vision, and the world around you became a distorted mess of shadows and light.

you didn’t hear the door open. you were too lost in your own anguish, too consumed by the despair that had wrapped itself around your heart like a vise. it wasn’t until you sensed a presence beside you that you looked up, your breath catching in your throat. hoseok stood in the doorway, his expression stricken, eyes filled with a mix of grief and concern. his usually confident stance was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. he took a tentative step toward you, his voice gentle, almost pleading.

“why did you go home?” he asked, his tone filled with an aching sorrow that matched the hurt in your chest. you felt something snap inside you at his words, a flood of emotions rushing to the surface. anger, hurt, betrayal—all of it came pouring out in a torrent as you stared at him through tear-streaked eyes.

“why did i go home?” you repeated, your voice cracking as you tried to keep the sobs at bay. “i thought—i thought you had really changed, hoseok. i thought you were different, that you were finally done with the games. i opened my heart to you, and you just, you went back to the girls in your office like it meant nothing.” your voice broke, the words trembling with the force of your emotions. you didn’t care how vulnerable you sounded, didn’t care that your tears were still falling, staining your cheeks as you looked up at him. all you could think about was the pain of realizing you had been wrong, so very wrong, about him.

hoseok’s face twisted with grief, his eyes darkening with regret as he closed the distance between you. “you’ve got it all wrong,” he said softly, his voice pained as he reached out to you. but you shook your head, pulling away from him as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. “no, i don’t,” you cried, your voice thick with emotion. “you’re an asshole, hoseok. you made me believe in something that wasn’t real. you made me believe that you could be more, that we could be more, and then you just—threw it all away.”

your words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your heartache. hoseok stopped in his tracks, his expression filled with a kind of desperation you hadn’t seen in him before. his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as if he was trying to hold himself together. then, slowly, he crouched down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. he reached out again, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was afraid you might shatter if he moved too quickly. his fingers gently wrapped around your hands, warm and comforting, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your sobs.

“listen to me,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “i did call yongsun into my office. but it wasn’t what you think.” you tried to pull your hands away, the pain in your chest still raw, but he held on, his grip firm yet gentle. he leaned in closer, his gaze searching yours, his voice tender as he continued.

“she was quitting,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your skin. “that’s why i called her in. to talk about her leaving. that’s all.” you froze, your breath catching in your throat as his words registered. the hurt, the anger—everything you had been feeling—wavered, uncertainty creeping in. you searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he might be lying, but all you saw was sincerity, a raw honesty that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“you—you really didn’t sleep with her?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if you were afraid to even ask. a small, sad smile tugged at the corners of hoseok’s lips. he shook his head, his thumb brushing gently across the back of your hand. “of course, i didn’t,” he murmured. “i could never do that to you.”

relief washed over you, a wave of emotion so strong it left you breathless. the tears that had been born of heartbreak now turned to something else—something softer, warmer. they slipped down your cheeks in quiet streams, and hoseok reached up, brushing them away with his fingertips. “it’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you closer. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” you didn’t resist as he gathered you into his arms, his warmth seeping into you, chasing away the cold that had settled in your heart. he held you like you were something precious, something fragile, and the care in his touch only made the tears fall faster.

you buried your face in his shoulder, the scent of him—familiar, comforting—wrapping around you like a balm for your wounded heart. his hands moved up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, his presence grounding you, anchoring you in a moment that felt too real, too tender to be anything but the truth. for a long time, neither of you said anything. there were no words needed, no explanations to be given. all that mattered was the way he held you, the way he made you feel safe, cherished, loved.

and then, slowly, gently, hoseok pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft as they searched your face. his hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears as he leaned in. the kiss was soft, tentative, a whisper of a touch that sent a shiver down your spine. his lips were warm against yours, his breath mingling with yours in a way that felt like coming home. there was no rush, no urgency—just a quiet, tender moment that spoke of all the things neither of you could put into words.

you leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as the kiss grew deeper, more passionate. you could feel his heart racing against yours, the beat a frantic echo of the need that was building inside you. the taste of him was like a drug, something you hadn’t realized you’d been craving until now. your body responded, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your shirt, your pussy growing wet with desire.

his hands slipped down to your waist, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before sliding around to the small of your back. he pulled you closer, aligning your bodies so that you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your stomach. you moaned into his mouth, the heat between you growing with every passing second. his touch grew bolder, more insistent, as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs playing with your nipples through the fabric. the sensation sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making you arch into his touch.

you broke the kiss, panting, to look up at him. his eyes were dark with need, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. “i’m sorry for hurting you. for making you doubt me. i’ll do anything to make it up to you, to show you how much you mean to me.” his words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the last of the raw edges of your heartache. you reached up, placing your hand on his cheek, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “make love to me, hoseok,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “show me that we’re okay.”

his eyes searched yours for a moment, looking for confirmation, for permission. and when you nodded, a soft smile curved his lips. he stood, pulling you to your feet, and then he was leading you to the bedroom, his hand warm and firm in yours. the room was bathed in soft, golden light from the setting sun, casting shadows across the bed that was already calling to you. you could feel your heart racing, your body thrumming with anticipation as he began to undress you, his eyes never leaving yours.

once you were naked, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze roving over your body with a kind of reverence that made you feel beautiful, desired. his hands followed, tracing the lines of your collarbone, your ribs, the swell of your hips. he leaned down, his mouth following the path his hands had taken, placing kisses along the way. you shivered, your skin coming alive under his touch. when he finally reached your breasts, he took one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you moan.

his hand moved between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, stroking it lightly, teasing it until you were begging for more. but hoseok was in no hurry. he took his time, exploring every inch of you, building the tension until you were on the edge, your body quivering with need. and when he finally slid into you, it was with a slow, deliberate movement that made you gasp. his cock was huge, stretching you in a way that was both painful and beautiful. you felt so full, so complete, as he filled you completely.

his strokes were gentle at first, almost tender, as if he was afraid of hurting you. but as you grew more and more desperate, he picked up the pace, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you clinging to the edge of climax. he whispered dirty, filthy words in your ear, praising your body, your tightness, your beauty, and each one sent a fresh wave of heat through you. his attentiveness was intoxicating, his sensitivity to your needs surprising and arousing.

his thumb found your clit again, pressing down firmly as he fucked you harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps. you could feel your orgasm building, a storm rising inside you, threatening to break. and when it did, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before—a white-hot explosion of pleasure that had you crying out his name, your body convulsing around his cock.

hoseok’s eyes never left yours, watching you intently as you rode out the waves of your climax. his own release followed closely, his hips jerking as he came deep inside you, his warmth filling you up. he collapsed against you, his chest heaving with the exertion. for a moment, you just lay there, tangled in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat, hearts beating in sync.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him close, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. he kissed you again, deep and slow, his tongue stroking yours in a gentle dance that spoke of a connection that went beyond the physical. it was a promise, a declaration of love and devotion, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

once you’d both caught your breath, hoseok pulled out of you, his cock still hard and glistening. without a word, he reached for the box of condoms on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving yours. you watched as he rolled one on, his movements sure and practiced, and then he was back, pushing into you again. the feeling of him bare inside you was different this time, a thrill that sent shivers down your spine. you knew it was risky, but with hoseok, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

his strokes grew slower, more deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a kind of tenderness that was almost overwhelming. every thrust was a silent promise, every kiss a vow to never hurt you again. and as you came apart in his arms, your bodies melding together in a symphony of passion, you knew that that was where you were meant to be—right there, with hoseok, forever.

✧.*

a/n: this one was lowk ass

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! - Five Point Five

Masterlist

You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Warnings: Hoseok smut in the end 😳, cute little fluff in the start <3

I gently brush the comb through Jungkook's hair, making sure all the tangles are gone before tying it neatly up in a bun. He gets up, moving in-front of Jimin who's next to me. Taehyung then sits in-front of me, handing me his own comb. I gently comb through, making sure not to tug too hard on his already damaged hair, a soft sigh escaping from his mouth. He leans back, conditioned hair practically under my nose, heavily relaxed.

After the (what Yoongi deemed as) 'sex fest', when we had all noticed that everyone's stomachs were rumbling, Hoseok and Yoongi got to work on making lunch; a mash-up of whatever was left in the chalet. It was mainly some leftovers from last night, a large vegetable stir fry that they managed to whip up and some bread that I had made one night when I couldn't sleep. When we declared ourselves full, we split off for showers; only reconvening for skincare and pampering.

So far, we had a decent line up. I would comb through and style their hair, Jimin would moisturise their faces and choose a mask, and then finally Hoseok would give them eye cooling patches and lip treatments. We were the first three clean and out, so we had already finished our skincare routines by the time it was time for the others' pampering sessions.

Funnily enough, the only face masks the boys had brought were BT21 branded, but had still brought their usual skincare supplies otherwise. I actually laughed, seeing the little peeks of RJ and Tata peeking out of the drawers in the bathroom.

The storm was still raging outside. Even though the lightning seems to have stopped, the rain was still coming down in buckets. Another inhabitant on the island came around to tell us there was still no power, and gave us some spare camping ovens and candles. We thanked them, sending them away with a box of protein bars for the others to snack on when they promised us a take-out would be brought to our door tonight.

I finish brushing out Taehyung's hair, noticing the spaced-out look in his eyes.

"Baby? You okay?" I shake his shoulder a little, smiling when a sleepy hum leaves him.

"Just sleepy. Love you." His eyes are half-open, yawning in between words. I coo at him, moving his hand to his face to tilt it towards me. I land a gentle peck on his lips, before slowly hooking my hands under his armpits and dragging him across the floor to lay on the empty sofa. He thanks me under his breath, cuddling and shoving his face into a throw pillow.

I move back to my spot, Hoseok sending me a large smile and pulling me in for his own kiss. This one isn't soft like the sleepy one with Taehyung, it's passionate and includes a little tongue. We run out of air, separating with giddy smiles.

"Okay, me next!" Jin slides across the floor in his socks, plopping down in-front of my seat with a large smile. These boys are so cute.

——

"Such a perfect cock." I babble, my head thrown back while Hoseok starts to drill his hips further into my sopping pussy.

"Yeah baby? My cock is perfect?" He keeps my arms pinned above my head with one hand, the other rubbing circles over my clit. I nod, trying to move my hips upwards to meet the brutal pace his cock is setting, but failing. His dick is hitting all the spots inside me to make me feel alive, the pleasure making my spine tingle and stomach feel like a bottomless pit.

"Harder! Please!" He obliged, grabbing one of my legs and throwing it over his shoulder, lifting up my hips slightly. The newer angle causes a growl to leave him, and a loud whimper to leave me. My foot bounces next to his neck, almost touching the silver chain that he had forgotten to take off.

He continues to fuck into me, my breasts bouncing with the sheer force he’s thrusting into me. I feel the orgasm start to build to a crescendo in my stomach, my moans starting to get higher pitched.

His deep groans and moans start to get louder, the sound of his balls slapping against my ass filling the room. I feel his hand start to furiously trace figure eights on my clit, landing a slap on it after a few seconds. I moan louder, stars beginning to fill my vision as my back arches off the mattress.

“There! I’m gonna cum Seokie! Gonna cum!”

“Cum with me, baby. On three.” I whimper, nodding to his command. His pace doesn’t falter, the furious slapping of our skin.

“One!” I whimper at the first step.

“T-t-two!” He stutters his way through, hips beginning to falter against mine.

“Three, baby!” We both let go, orgasms flying through our bodies and sending black spots into our vision. Moans turn into whimpers, and whimpers turn into soft words and affection.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, pretty boy.”

I think there’s only like two chapters left 😳

Taglist: @ah2002 @effielumiere @mcusuperfreak @fangirl125reader

death valley (m) | part 7

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, hoseok x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.3k 

warnings: reader discretion advised. multiple & explicit smut scenes, rough sex (smacking, manhandling, etc), very obsessive & possessive themes, manipulation, use of restraints (mouth), bondage (collar, leash), slight sadism kink, physical roughness, guns, heavy drug use/reference, breast play, mentions of addiction/addiction prone behaviors, unrealistic sex endurance levels (readers really out here banging), dubcon/coersive sex, reader uses humor as a coping mechanism, degradation, toxic relationships, yelling, crying, character death (or is it), oral sex, shower sex, technically cheating depending on how you look at it, daddy kink, praise, implied stalking, yoongi loves spoiling his baby girl, impreg kink if you squint, dom!yoongi (duh), dom!hoseok, dom!seokjin 

part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | series navi | masterlist

a/n: i spent way too long on this HAHAHA 

F L A S H B A C K–

The crowd roared as the fight came to a close. Jin stepped out of the ring reluctantly, someone handed him water while another man wrapped a towel around his shoulders. A soft ringing noise resonated through his ears, blood teasing the edges of his vision. He pushed everyone away to find his prep room. Sighing deeply, he looked down at his trembling hands. His body was on overdrive, he was getting desperate. 

He placed his hands against the wall, unable to think straight with the way his heart was pounding out of his chest. He could hear the footsteps of someone stop in his doorway, not having to look to know exactly who it was.

“Do you have any coke on you?” Jin wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a towel, panting heavily, “Seriously Jimin. I’m gonna fucking lose my mind” 

Jin had always been extremely unstable. It was in his personality to get aggressively addicted to things. Whenever Jin went too long without it, it was like he surrendered himself to a beast. Jimin liked to call it his maniac side.

“Can you stop thinking about getting high for one fucking second? We have a problem here” Jin hears a soft thud causing him to finally turn and look. Jimin had just dropped your unconscious body onto the hard floor.

“Well well. Who is this?” Jin crouched down and slid his fingers over your parted lips, digging his nail into the soft flesh until it began to bleed slightly. As you eyes slowly began to flutter open, a carnal desire coiled in Jin’s chest. He had never seen anyone quite like you before.

“Hi there cutie” Jin grinned, “What’s your name?” Your eyes were quivering with fear, something about your vulnerable state was so delicious to him. You glanced towards Jimin, only beginning to tremble even more.

“P..park Jimin” You gasped, “Oh my goodness! I…I love you. Wait no. I…sorry…I’m a huge fan” You rubbed your eyes. Jin’s heart trembled at your dazed expression. “Where am I? What’s going on?” He wanted to eat you alive. 

Jimin joined Jin on the floor besides you “Well thank you pretty girl. It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Y/n” You introduced yourself, shaking his hand before turning to Jin, looking at him with your tempting, lustful eyes. Y/n. Jin’s head was pounding as the withdrawal began taking over him. He had never seen someone so beautiful in his life. 

Jin had never found anyone else even close to catching his eye before. He would sit mindlessly on his phone while girls would be on their knees, gagging on his cock, waiting for the mind-numbing minutes until he could finally cum and leave. The prospect of a relationship, of love, it seemed otherworldly. Perhaps it wasn’t for him. He had drugs and that kept him happy. But you. You were a high he had yet to fully taste. Looking at you alone had him feeling a glow unlike any other.

“Hey” You said to him. Jin felt dizzy as you spoke, getting lost in your gaze, “You’re the fighter guy right? Jin?”

Hearing you say his name had him bucking forward, trying to hide his growing erection from the famous star who was by his side. “Yeah. Hi. Great to meet you”

Jimin got up, brushing the dust off of his pants, “I’m getting out of here” He grabbed his jacket from your arms, “Jin, please search her address and get Y/n home.” Jimin reached into his back pocket “These should make her forget” He slid a pill into your mouth and you swallowed obediently. 

Jin began to break a sweat, watching the way your lips sucked in the small capsule and gulped it down it so nicely. Jimin left without another beat, leaving you in Jin’s arms, your eyes getting heavy with each passing second.

You blinked, eyes wide with uncertainty as Jin held you close. “You can take me home?”

Jin nodded, “I need to do something really quick first” He slid his hand down his pants to begin palming his erection. His vision was turning blue as his headache began to spread. “God you’re so pretty” He grabbed your jaw, ensuring that you couldn’t look anywhere but his face. 

Jin felt like his mind was running miles a minute. You looked so cute and helpless. He wanted to tear you to pieces, he wanted to see you bruised and battered, splayed out for him to ravish you as he pleased. 

Was it wrong? Was it wrong that he wanted to shove his cock in your mouth while you slowly lost consciousness? In the moment, nothing made more sense to him. 

Your pretty lips, your sweet eyes, how could he not? Your lips trembled, eyes half lidded, rolling back slightly as you fought to stay awake.

“Oh fuck oh fuck. Don’tttt…don’t fucking look at me like that Y/n. If you look at me like that I’m gonna–gonna–ohhhh baby, fuck what are you doing to me” Jin gasped loudly as cum spilled all over his palm. 

P R E S E N T   D A Y–

Amongst the sweet bliss of your dreams, a current washed over you and reality had your eyes opening. Your heart felt heavy as your vision focused in on the dry walls that continued to encage you. Your body pulsed with soreness, reminding you of the previous nights events.

To say you were upset would be an understatement, but you were shocked more than anything. You had never seen Jin act so unhinged before. It was almost as though he quite literally couldn’t control himself, the thought alone bringing a bitter taste to your mouth.

Before you could decide on whether to give him a piece of your mind and reprimand his behavior, you hear him wincing with pain across the room. He lay leaned against the wall, sweat trickling down his muscles from the heat. His head tilted back in a soft groan, dark hair now extremely tangled and messy.

“Are you okay?” You got up with a start. Jin exhaled before shaking his head in defeat. 

“No, my leg still really fucking hurts. I feel like absolute shit right now” He punched the side of his fist into the ground in frustration. “I feel like I’m going insane” 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine his pain. At least you got to leave the cell for some time, he had been here all along. Alone. Wounded. It was just awful. Yoongi should have had the courtesy to take him to the hospital, but then again did Yoongi even have a courteous bone in his body? You were no longer sure. 

“It just sucks too because I’m trapped here, helpless, and all I can fucking do is feel this pain” Jin’s jaw clenched. "And I’m sorry for last night I just…you were just there, so close. I just couldn’t help it. I could finally forget the pain even if it was just for a moment”

“It’s okay, I understand” You knew that feeling far too well. Jin reached his arms out to you, pulling you to sit next to him. His hands trailed down your thighs as he looked at you intently. “You know, I don’t mind…if it helps distract you from the pain. We can” You cleared your throat nervously, heat rising to your cheeks, “I mean, just tell me what you need”

Jin’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?” He asks, gulping, “You don’t have to”

“I want to Jin. Let me help. I’m half the reason you’re in this mess” You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Jin was extremely handsome, you had noticed that from the moment you saw him in the arena. With a body like that, your heart skipped a beat at what all he might have in store for you.

His fingers slid between your legs, making you gasp softly. He tickled your clothed cunt softly. He flattened his fingers, teasing your entrance before moving to your clit. Licking his lips, he sucked lightly on your ear. Your hips bucked up as a ticklish sensation shot through your body. You felt wet. 

And you knew he could feel it too, as he drew his fingers away. “Can I?” He mumbled into your neck. You nodded, flustered and warm all over as he pushed your panties aside and began drawing light circles on your clit. You twitch at the sensations hitting your nerves. His other hand cupped your jaw tightly, turning your face towards him.

“Oh fuckk, Jin that feels so good” You didn’t know why you felt so horny, whether it was the morning or the temporary relief from reality. Jin carefully slid one finger into your cunt, just barely, his delicate movements sending shocks of pleasure through your tired body.

Your pussy clenched down on his finger, and he growled. Pulling out, he popped the finger into his mouth before sighing, “Can I tell you what I want?” You could hear a slight tremble in his voice, “Will you do anything for me?”

You choked on your own breath, nodding dumbly as Jin’s gaze flashed with desire. “Get on all fours over me. Wanna spank that pretty ass”

Keep reading

nexus (m) part 6

pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader

smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller

characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin

wordcount: 6.2k

warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

“I can’t lose you”

Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.

But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.   

“It’s late”

The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.

Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”

“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me—you won’t get to, Tae”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.

His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.

“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”

He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s pathetic”

You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.

“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.

“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.

“Now will you please sleep?”

The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.

Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.

Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.

“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes. 

“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.

You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.

“Do you miss your mother?”

His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.

And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.

You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.

“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”

You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.

Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.

It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.

You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.

Breathe.

You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.

Your eyes shot open.

It was dark.

You. You couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.

Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.

Suddenly the grip loosened.

Taehyung was on the floor.

Panting.

Hyperventilating.

The pillow inches from his palm.

He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.

You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.

“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”

“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.

You should’ve known better.

Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.

“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”

You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.

Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.

“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”

Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.

You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.

“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.

“It is”

He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.

The pout on his lips, evident.

“You didn’t have to stay”

He looked at you.

He said nothing.

“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.

The phone rang.

Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.

It kept fucking ringing.

Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.

“Hey”

Your voice was an aphrodisiac.

He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.

He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.

“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”

Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”

Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.

Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.

Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.

He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.

Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.

Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.

You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.

Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.

“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.

“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.

He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.

He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.

“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.

You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.

“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”

Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—

“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”

You brought his hand to your lips.

“Stop” He exhaled.

“W-what?”

“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”

You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.

“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”

“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”

You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.

You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.

“I love you”

Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.

“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.

For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.

“You can’t”

Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.

-

Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.

He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.

His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.

“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.

You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.

Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.

“Y/n”

Your blood ran cold.

That voice.

“Run”

You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.

“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.

“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”

His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.

Run.

Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.

Two young boys. A father.

Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.

Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.

“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”

Two boys. A father.

Two.

“You’re an only child, right?”

Jungkook’s actions halted.

“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”

“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.

Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.

“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”

Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.

That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.

What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?

“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.

“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”

You flinched when he reached for your wrist.

He knew you figured it out.

You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.

“You knew” Was all you said.

Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.

“Jin is a Jeon”

You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”

“Unless, he didn’t”

“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”

He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”

You were silent.

“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”

You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.

Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah love?”

“Did you call my phone earlier?”

He shook his head. “No…why?”

“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”

You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.

Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.

“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”

“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”

“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”

A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”

You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.

Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.

“You can sit you know” You grumbled.

He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.

“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”

“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”

His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.

“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”

You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.

“I thought you loved him”

You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.

“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”

You proceeded to storm up the stairs.

You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.

He was dressed.

Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.

Just like his brother.

Run.

“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.

“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.

“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”

He blinked at you. Then walked away.

If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.

Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.

The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.

The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.

Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.

The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.

“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”

With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.

“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”

“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”

You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.

The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.

“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”

“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.

Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.

“They loved you”

Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”

You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.

“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.

Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”

“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.

“Fine”

You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.

"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.

He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.

You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.

You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.

"Your turn, Tae."

He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.

You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?

Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.

"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.

Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.

"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”

Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”

You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.

“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.

“Done with love, huh?”

You circled him as he lined up his next shot.

“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”

You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”

With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”

He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”

“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”

You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”

“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”

Taehyung’s last ball went in.

He beat you.

“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.

“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.

The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.

There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.

“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.

His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.

Taehyung inhaled.

Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.

A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.

He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.

It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed? 

He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.

Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.

His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.

They were all dead for all you cared.

You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.

His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.

He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.

Was that his first kiss?

He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.

You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.

So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.

“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.

His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.

He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Fuck”

You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.

“We own this place. I’d mind your business”

The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.

“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”

You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.

“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.

Was he--?

You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.

You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.

His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.

You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.

You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.

Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.

Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.

Then you looked up at him.

His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.

He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.

You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.

You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.

“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like”

It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.

“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”

“You are my world. There was never a doubt”

His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.

“Fancy seeing you two here”

The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.

“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.

-

Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.

“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.

“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.

“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.

“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”

“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”

“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”

You squinted at him. “What about it?”

“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”

His hand slid between your legs.

“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”

He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.

You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.

The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.

“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.

“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.

Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”

Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.

“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”

He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.

Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.

His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.

“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”

“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”

-

The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.

Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.

The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.

Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.

You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.

Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.

He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.

He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.

You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.

To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.

It was furiously intimate.

Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.

Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.  

His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.

He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.

“You looked beautiful tonight”

They were plain words.

When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.

He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.

-

Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.

"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."

Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"

"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."

Your heart tightened at his name.

"Where is he? I want to see him”

“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”

Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”

You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.

“What about Nexus?”

Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”

You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.

Namjoon lowered onto one knee.

Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.

“Marry me”

Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.

“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”

His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.

“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”

Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.

"I need time."

His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.

You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.

Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.

So why was it so hard to say yes?

Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.

You answered quickly, excited.

“Don’t marry him”

There was no way.

“You’re mine”

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a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks

and thank you for reading you hawtie <3