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snackhobi · 4 years

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pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 26.8k / genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw!

summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you.

warnings: idiots being oblivious, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving + brief mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), body worship + praise (f receiving), a lot of soft emotions and pet names, hoseok treating reader like a pillow princess

a/n: the more I read this the less happy I am with it but after the amount of time I’ve spent on it/how long it’s gotten, I’m calling it finished (even if it’s a lot lighter on paranormal related stuff than I’d initially planned OOPS...) please feel free to let me know what you think AHH x

Jung Hoseok is a lot of things.

Jung Hoseok is: a work-friend-turned-real-friend-turned-best-friend, and one of your favourite people in the world.

Jung Hoseok is: very easily scared, the opposite of a thrillseeker, Not A Fan of big rollercoasters, or haunted houses, or anywhere that involves jump scares or loud noises or anything vaguely dangerous or threatening.

Jung Hoseok is: a man with ridiculous lung capacity who can also screech so loudly that you’re fairly certain he could shatter glass if he wanted to.

“It’s just a bat, hyung,” Jimin says, before the bat comes back round and Hoseok shrieks again.

Jung Hoseok is: clinging to you with a vice-like grip as aforementioned bat flutters above you, squeaking and trilling, and you stroke his hand in an absent, instinctual motion, trying to soothe him.

“I definitely heard footsteps as well,” Hoseok whimpers. “Why are we here?”

Why are you here? Well, because Jung Hoseok is also: your co-host for one of BigHit’s most popular series, BigHit Unsolved.

It’s funny, in a roundabout sort of way, that Hoseok’s general fear of Most Things had been the thing that had cinched him his spot. You’d never expected Unsolved to explode in the way it had, starting off as a short video series with Yoongi beside you to bounce off as you described unsolved crimes, but then Hoseok had starred opposite you and the audience had just eaten it up: the way he got spooked at real life events, the modulation of his voice when it would rise or dip in fear, the way you riffed off each other- you, calm but enthused about your topic, and Hoseok, a quivering jelly of a man when scared.

Not to mention that Hoseok is just great on screen anyway, personable and bright and charming. He makes you laugh and brings out a level of exuberance in you in a way that no one else can, makes you do ridiculous things without even trying- your interactions are good video fodder, basically, and your audience loves how your friendship comes across on the show.

And that’s another funny thing. You’d known Hoseok before Unsolved, of course, because everyone knows Hoseok, because Hoseok is wonderful, a sunshine of a man, loved by all. You, however, hadn't really spoken much to him- when you'd started at BigHit you'd been crushing on Hoseok in kind of a big way and you'd been worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him, so… you'd done the logical thing of avoiding him as much as was possible without being rude or weird. Face your problems and anxieties? In this economy? Haha, you don't think so.

Anyway. Because of this, your interactions had been pretty limited up until you’d asked him to appear in one of your videos. If anyone asked it was because you’d thought he would be a fun, one-off guest star, which was true, but the main reason was that Yoongi had cancelled because he was sick and no one else had been free when you’d been scrabbling around the office for a replacement. Despite not knowing you all too well, and despite being scared easily by true crime (“my mum watched CSI when I was a kid and it gave nightmares,” he’d told you afterwards), Hoseok had heard about your plight and was happy to replace Yoongi for the episode, and you’d found out that- despite your initial worry that you were going to make things weird- you get on really well.

Like, really well. Not just on camera, either. Before they’d started to roll, you’d been frantically making sure everything was in place, that you had all your notes, that all the pre-production was ready- and Hoseok had made you stand still, taking your hands in his, and he’d smiled at you in a way that had been so warm and comforting that all the tension had leaked out of you. After that it had just been so easy. You’d felt relaxed and the episode had come out great, and then Hoseok suggested that you grab lunch together in the cafeteria so you could get to know each other more. Of course you’d agreed- and the rest is history.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to turn from a nice and funny colleague, to someone you actively looked for at work gatherings, to someone who you decided to ask to be your permanent co-host for the show, to someone who now has a spare key for your flat in case he ever runs out of snacks or just feels like dropping by. Which he feels like doing a lot, apparently, but you have a key for his place too, so it’s all even stevens. (You steal a lot of his face masks whenever you visit him and he never complains.)

Over time your huge crush on Hoseok has ebbed into a deep platonic love, fading and morphing into a comfortable friendship. Okay, sure, you still think he’s the most beautiful person in the universe and you’d immediately accept if he asked you to marry him and you kind of want to kiss him on the mouth sometimes (a lot of the time) or whatever, but that’s because you know how wonderful he is. It’s platonic. Not romantic. Mmhm. (Mostly.) Either way, you're completely comfortable around him despite any lingering feelings you might have, which is something you appreciate more than you can put into words.

So fast forward to now, multiple seasons into your show, and you’re more than used to Hoseok’s fear and touch. It had been startling, at the beginning, when Hoseok had grabbed onto you whenever he was afraid, but now you’re used to navigating places in the dark while Hoseok clings onto you like a particularly oversized backpack or holds your hand like a lost school child. (You’ve lost count of the minutes, nay, hours of footage that exist of Hoseok doing this, like some sort of gangly limpet, but you don’t mind.) Fans love to splice together footage comparing interactions over the seasons and it’s very obvious how wide eyed and stiff you used to go whenever Hoseok seized you, but now? This is your every day, baby.

Hoseok is still cowering behind you as the lone bat flaps above you, high up in the rafters of the old generator building you’re standing in. You and your crew and your guide are the only people at the abandoned gold mine, so Hoseok can’t have heard footsteps, other than your own- which is what you tell him.

“I think it was the building settling, Hobi,” you say. “This mining warehouse is pretty old.”

“Old and full of ghosts.” Hoseok moans. Jimin readjusts the camera and you know that, without a doubt, he’s zooming in on Hoseok’s terrified face. Namjoon’ll have some fun shots to edit later. Jimin is a very capable cameraman, and also unruffled by ghosts/loud noises/etc, but he does love to catch some interesting angles of the two of you. At least Taehyung refrains from doing that, although he does sometimes get too focused on making a shot artistic rather than capturing the abject terror on Hoseok’s face when it would be a good clip for the final video.

“Well, we don’t know that.” You pause. “Maybe we should test it with the spirit box to find out?”

Hoseok’s face twists and you can’t help but laugh.

The supernatural half of the show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Your fans enjoyed his eternal suffering and fear whenever anything remotely spooky was mentioned, so they'd bandied about the idea of a paranormal-themed season and you'd taken the idea on board; the juxtaposition between yourself and your co-host was all the more defined when he was banshee shrieking at some innocuous sound while you stayed calm. You’re open to the concept of the supernatural but have yet to come across any evidence that you find compelling enough to make you a believer, while Hoseok is convinced in the existence of ghosts and finds the idea terrifying.

He doesn’t like the spirit box because of this, but you don’t mind it- although you don't really like the loud static it makes when it’s scanning through radio frequencies, trying to pick up if any spirits or ghouls are trying to talk to you. (They’re not, even if Hoseok insists that the random bursts of sound it spits out are definitely coherent words and sentences, rather than a mish-mash of random rubbish that it just happens to pick from normal radio waves.)

The spirit box, of course, is about as interesting as normal: that is to say, not really at all, though you have a good laugh after you ask for any spirits to give you a name and the only response is ‘pineapple pie’, which makes you feel hungry. Hoseok lets you rummage around in his pocket for a cereal bar, which you end up munching on between shots, as Hoseok swats bugs away from your faces. He attempts to karate chop a mosquito but misses by miles and you almost choke on a mouthful of oats as he makes the world’s most incredulous face and you giggle.

“We should make pineapple pie for a video at some point,” you suggest, and Hoseok is briefly distracted from his fear- he’d given up on the bugs and has been shining his torch over your shoulder at some old generator equipment and casting warped shadows on the walls behind it, dark silhouettes that could admittedly be considered a little spooky. “I’ve never had pineapple pie before.”

“There’s a Filipino bakery near our place that sells it!” Taehyung jumps in before Hoseok can respond, turning away from where he and Jimin have been making shadow puppets on the wall with their own torches. “It’s so good, you should definitely do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jin-hyung would probably be happy to help out,” he says. You finish the cereal bar and tuck the wrapper back into Hoseok’s pocket, making a mental note to get in touch with the Tasty team member to ask him about it. He’ll leap at the opportunity.

There’s a clattering noise somewhere far in the distance, probably rocks shifting or something, and Hoseok squeaks and crowds even closer to you, as impossible as that is with how he’s already wrapped around your back at this point, the harness for his chest-mounted camera digging into your spine. It’s a familiar sensation by this point. “Please can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” you say indulgently, stroking Hoseok’s arm where it’s wrapped around your collarbones. “We need to drive down to the mining tunnels now anyway.”

Hoseok keeps hold of your hand as your guide drives you to your location, squeezing your fingers every time the car goes over a bump- which is pretty often on the rocky dirt track. Hoseok’s fairly touchy in general, always holding hands or hugging or kissing people, raining little pecks over their faces, and it had been Very Overwhelming when he’d first turned this attention to you. You’re not, like, not touchy, but back in season 1 you were definitely not used to spending time with someone who loves skinship as much as Hoseok does, and it had taken time for you to stop freezing up every time he casually touched or grabbed you.

It says a lot about how used you are to it now that you don’t even bat an eyelid when he wriggles into your twin bed at the hotel later, curling up around you once he’s finished his meticulous skincare routine. “Your bed is over there, Hobi,” you say, although you immediately snuggle back into him, letting him spoon you. He’s always a lot clingier after you finish filming a supernatural episode- as if you can ward off any ghosts that might have decided to hitch a ride back from wherever you’d come from.

“I know,” Hoseok replies. He hitches a leg over yours, sighing happily when you reach an arm down to rub his calves. He always sleeps better if you massage him.

“I can’t wait to get home.” You dig your fingers into a muscle and Hoseok squirms a little. You huff out a laugh. “Arizona is so hot.”

“You look cute in shorts, though,” Hoseok says. He’s been saying the same thing all day.

“You just like shorts.” He’d been wearing shorts too, pretty much matching his clothes to yours; at this point you’re starting to wonder if he looks through your luggage before he packs his own stuff, because your outfits end up being eerily similar a lot of the time. You think he finds it reassuring, maybe, when you’re somewhere unfamiliar. Or maybe it’s because Hoseok’s fashion has influenced your own over the years. You definitely own a lot more bright clothing than you used to, not to mention the matching items you’ve both purchased together anyway.

Now that you think about it, Hoseok really has been a big influence on you, huh.

He falls asleep pretty soon after, going lax and limp as his breaths deepen and he dozes off. He always falls asleep before you do, awake one second and flat out the next; you envy his ability to drop off like that, usually taking a lot longer yourself, but you do find it good that he’s able to sleep so quickly despite his earlier fear. He always crashes at yours after you finish filming an episode when you’re home, too, otherwise he says he’s up all night with the fear- this is all part and parcel of Hoseok being your co-host and partner on the show, and honestly, you don’t mind it at all.

So you're used to this. When Hoseok makes a little noise in his sleep and starts shifting behind you, you lift his hand to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles, running your thumb down his wrist- he settles immediately, going lax again. You'll chase away any nightmares with soft touches, shuffling around in his grip and holding him tight if you need to, before eventually drifting off yourself, safe and warm in the circle of his arms.

Even though you usually fall asleep after Hoseok, one thing you have over him is the fact you’re a morning person and find it a lot easier to get up with the sun. Despite your late night, you’re awake moments before your phone alarm starts to ring, turning it off before it can rouse Hoseok out of his sleep. When you slide out of the bed he stirs a little, instinctively reaching out for you in his sleep, and you carefully put a pillow in his arms so he can hold onto that instead; he settles down once he has the pillow hugged to his chest, and you take a moment to look at him fondly and gently kiss his forehead before you start to get ready for the day.

You’re pretty much done by the time Hoseok sits up at the sound of his own alarm, blinking blearily in your direction as you turn it off for him. He’s still holding onto the pillow as he sits up.

“Morning, honey,” you chirp. “You want coffee?”

Hoseok stares at you for a second, eyes squinting as he tries to wake up fully. “Morning,” he replies, voice hoarse from sleep, and you smile. “Please.”

When you’d first found out that Hoseok wasn’t a morning person, you’d honestly been gobsmacked. He’s just so bright and energetic that you figured he rolled out of bed like that- it just makes sense- but it actually takes him a surprisingly long time to get fully up to speed with his normal self. He’s a little slower, a little softer, draping himself over your back as you fiddle with the room's coffee machine to try and get some caffeine into him.

“We can always get some more at the airport,” you say conversationally, and Hoseok hums quietly into your hair before dropping a kiss there. “It’s a shame we don’t have time to eat at the breakfast buffet.”

Despite his morning slowness, he’s still ready on time; he’s always punctual, is your Hoseok. You make up for missing breakfast at the hotel by purchasing tons of snacks for the flight to Pennsylvania, munching a pre-wrapped croissant as you read off your phone while Jimin dozes next to you, his head resting against the window. You’re sandwiched between him and Hoseok, who has the aisle seat- he cranes his head at your pastry and you tilt it against his lips so he can take a bite. You end up with a lapful of crumbs, but that’s okay.

“So where are we off to next?” Hoseok asks once he’s done chewing, peering at your phone screen. Across the aisle from you, Taehyung very loudly unwraps a pain au chocolat, much to the irritation of the woman next to him.

“We’re going to an old prison,” you say, and Hoseok meeps. “A penitentiary, to be exact.”

Taehyung shoves the pain au chocolat into his mouth whole so he has his hands free, fumbling for his phone as he starts to film how the colour drains from Hoseok’s face as you give him a brief synopsis of the prison and other places you’ll be going to while in Pennsylvania. This isn’t even for Unsolved; Taehyung just likes to have video evidence and receipts for everything, if his camera reel is anything to go by. Even though you’re vague with your descriptions- you like Hoseok’s reaction on camera to be as unscripted and natural as it can possibly be, when you finally turn up at your locations and then set up so that you can talk about it- once you’re finished, Hoseok is curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck.

“Why can’t we go somewhere nice for once?” He whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Budget doesn’t cover it, that’s why we have to sleep at haunted hotels. They’re cheaper.” Hoseok meeps again, and you relent, lifting your hand to cup the back of his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” you say, stroking his hair as you use your free hand to clumsily scroll through your phone, double checking the details of your planned trip.

“I know.” Hoseok is uncharacteristically quiet against your collarbones. Taehyung gives up filming and rips into another pain au chocolat packet, smiling guiltily at his seat neighbour when she tuts at him. “You never do.”

Despite Hoseok’s fear of a lot of things related to the show, and the fact he jumps and screams at pretty much everything, he’s never asked to bow out or avoid doing something. He even agrees to go into areas alone when the two of you try to ‘make contact’ with spirits, even though he’s obviously terrified- but each and every time before you part, you promise that you’re not going anywhere and you’ll be waiting right outside for him. You would never abandon Hoseok (even though ghosts probably aren’t real and he has nothing to worry about), and he knows that, and takes strength from it. It warms you.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck for a beat longer, and then smacks a loud kiss against your skin, which makes you squeal and slap him away while he laughs.

As fun as it is to jet around the country- especially with Hoseok and the other guys- it's also exhausting, and there’s always something nice about coming home. Even though the increased budget that you’ve been allocated as the show’s been growing in popularity means that you can stay at nicer hotels now, your own bed is still the most comfortable place in the world. (Well, tied with Hoseok’s bed, thinking about it. The two are basically interchangeable at this point anyway, if you consider how often Hoseok ends up sleeping at your apartment and squirreling his way under your blankets as you’re trying to sleep.)

On the other hand, though, in spite of a return to your regular creature comforts, coming home still involves work: there are Q&As to be filmed, footage to edit, later episodes to plan, research to be done. As the original progenitor of Unsolved you take the brunt of the last two parts; Hoseok is the one who reacts to the facts you throw out, he’s not the one who investigates the different things you talk about on the show, but he’s always there to support you and talk to you whenever you need it.

(Your audience knows Hoseok as someone who is cute and bright and cheerful, but he’s also quietly thoughtful and surprisingly serious when he has to be. That’s the side of him that you get to see whenever you stay late at the office, your desk lamp the only one left on in the room, hunched over your keyboard as you trawl through conspiracy threads in the deep bowels of the internet that are discussing who D.B. Cooper is. You love loud Hoseok, of course, but you appreciate this hushed part of him, too- the way he'll deliver you a hot chocolate with a kiss to your forehead before quietly sitting beside you and waiting for you to finish so he can take you home.)

Anyway. Coming home means coming back to the office, means putting in shifts at BigHit headquarters, etc, etc, all that jazz, so here you are, sitting on Hoseok’s lap and scrolling through your tablet as he does something of his own on his PC. The first time this had happened, it had raised eyebrows- not because it was considered inappropriate or anything, as BigHit is the kind of place where people can make out in hallways to ‘test the longevity of this 24 hour lipstick’ for a video and no one bats an eyelash, but because up until this point, you’d been renowned for pretty much being glued to your desk while working. But you like Hoseok and his energy, even when he’s not doing anything, and his lap is comfortable, even if he doesn’t exactly have the world’s thickest thighs. You work better when you’re around him.

You’re scrolling through Instagram comments for questions to answer in this week’s Q&A episode when someone clears their throat. Both you and Hoseok look up in tandem to find Seokjin standing there, looking decidedly more grey-haired than he had the last time you’d seen him. He pulls it off effortlessly, of course.

“What’s up, silver fox?” You let your tablet droop into your lap as Hoseok takes his hands off his mouse and keyboard and secures them around your waist instead, so you don’t slide off his legs. His hands are warm where they splay across your stomach and you can feel the bumps and texture of his bracelets through the material of your shirt. “Liking the new look, by the way.”

“You look really good, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“I know.” Jin sounds flippant but he seems pleased. He doesn’t say anything more than that, though, and just looks at the two of you expectantly. You both blink back at him.

“So… did you come over just to be complimented, or?” You slowly start to lift your tablet, acting as if you’re about to start reading off your screen again. “Were the thirsty comments on your latest video not enough for you today?”

Jin raises an eyebrow as he pretends to inspect his nails. “No, no, there were plenty of comments, as always,” he says loftily. Unsurprising, considering his unofficial(/basically official) title of Most Handsome Face in the office as well as the leagues of fans he has. He lets his hand drop as he quickly gives up pretending to be aloof. “So when are you planning to fit making pineapple pie into your schedule?”

“Oh!” Hoseok squeezes you in his excitement and you wiggle a little in his lap. “I almost forgot about that! Did Tae mention it to you?”

“Jimin too. They burst into the kitchen while I was filming and they were both holding a piece of Filipino pineapple pie aloft like they were wielding Excalibur, so, yes, you can say that it was mentioned,” Jin says, and you can’t help but wince. Being interrupted while filming is one thing, but the Tasty studio can be hazardous on top of that (y’know, what with the knives and fire and stuff), so you can only hope that Jin wasn’t using a mandolin or something when they had appeared.

“Oof.” You wiggle your hips again and Hoseok immediately catches your drift, turning his chair so the two of you are facing Jin fully rather than having to turn your heads to look at him. Jin makes a weird expression, something you can’t put a name to, but it slips away too fast for you to catch properly- maybe he just had a sudden chill or something, who knows. “Sorry about them. How about I email you our filming schedule and you can see when you’re free as well? We were going to film a 70th episode retrospective soon and the pineapple pie video might be a nice sort of bonus on top of that.”

Jin agrees easily. You use your tablet to open the Google Calendar that you have with Hoseok, which makes Jin pause when he notices. “You share a GCal?”

“Duh?” You flick a look at Jin through your lashes. You and Hoseok have GCal where you input your work schedules to avoid potential clashes when you need to film together, but you also put in other plans the two of you have outside of work, if it’s ever necessary. “Why wouldn’t we? It makes it easier when we need to plan things for Unsolved.”

“Uh-huh.” Jin sounds sceptical, but you decide not to address it. You miss the look he gives Hoseok as you scroll through your calendar, the two men having a silent exchange as you start to draft an email. Somewhere across the office you hear Yoongi shout out an expletive and two sets of cackling laughter that sound suspiciously like Taehyung and Jungkook; you and Hoseok turn at the sound, but you don’t spot anything from where you’re sat. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and promptly dips before he gets dragged into whatever’s going on.

Whatever shenanigans Jungkook and Taehyung have gotten up to seem to be pinpointed to one area, so you avoid any fall out, and Hoseok eventually excuses himself to go to the toilet. You take over his chair while he’s gone. Asides from yourself, both computers at this desk are entirely abandoned- Yoongi is still absent, nowhere to be seen- and you’re tapping away at your tablet when all of a sudden you have a camera shoved in your face.

For once it’s not Jimin or Taehyung or Jungkook, and instead when you look up you see Irene and Seulgi, the latter girl beaming at you while Irene holds the camera. Seulgi says your name and points at you with a perfectly manicured nail, and you blink at her, completely caught off guard. Irene zooms in on your bewildered expression.

“Um, hey guys,” you say. “What’s up? Need me for something?”

“We wanted to ask if you wanted to guest star in the next Ladylike video!” Seulgi chirps brightly, and you’re immediately on guard. While the offer seems innocent enough on the surface you can’t help but wonder if the next video is one of their wilder ones (you don’t care if the underwear is silver-infused and apparently wicks away smell and moisture, you flat out refuse to wear the same panties for a whole week). Fortunately your fears are assuaged when Seulgi seems to read your mind and answers your question before you have the chance to ask it. “We’re trying to recreate elaborate Instagram makeup looks with dollar store makeup.”

Irene giggles behind the camera when you visibly relax. “I’m in, that sounds fun,” you say, and both girls seem inordinately pleased. “Um, when are you planning to shoot it?”

“Tomorrow! It won’t take long, we promise,” Seulgi says. “You just need to be free for filming, we’ll do all the editing and stuff.”

You finalise the exact time you need to be available by and by the time Hoseok comes back from the toilet both girls have just gone. You stand up so that he can reclaim his seat, eyes glued to your tablet as you open up your Google Calendar so you can put the Ladylike video filming in, but you’re interrupted when Hoseok grabs you. You squeal in surprise when he tugs you back down rather than letting you sit down yourself, tablet getting sandwiched between the two of you as you end up straddling him in a desperate attempt to catch your balance- but before you can resituate yourself he starts to tickle you and you end up laughing uproariously into his face.

“Cute, cute, my Y/n is so cute,” he sing-songs, and you continue to laugh as you try to bat his hands away.

“Stop, oh my God, Hobi!” There are tears of laughter in the corners of your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to get away from his hands but being prevented from doing so by the desk at your back; you’re trapped between it and Hoseok, entirely at his mercy as the two of you giggle at each other.

“You realise other people work here, right?”

Yoongi has finally reappeared. He sounds disgruntled, but you put it down to the fact he has KITTY AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION and a phone number scrawled across his face in what appears to be permanent marker, rather than at the fact that you and Hoseok are making noise. As Hoseok’s deskmate he’s used to this sort of behaviour by now.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok says, shameless as his fingers continue to dance up and down your sides, although the touches are light enough now that you can turn your attention away from giggling to appreciate Yoongi’s new look. “Did you have a good nap?”

“A cat nap,” you say, and then giggle at the unimpressed look Yoongi throws your way- it’s hard to find him scary with the multi-coloured letters scribbled over his face.

He grunts as he sits down. “I’ll kill those kids,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind his words, and he slumps into his chair with a resigned sigh. “I kept scrubbing at my face but this shit won’t come off.”

You exchange a look with Hoseok, the two of you thinking about the hand sanitiser you keep in your handbag- the alcoholic gel would probably lift the ink off Yoongi’s face, but neither of you offer up this information. “I’m sure it’ll come off by tomorrow,” you say, and Yoongi makes a hopeful noise at the back of this throat. "Any particular reason why you've decided to act as a walking billboard for abandoned cats?"

"Thing 1 and Thing 2 said they were raising awareness for a local cat shelter and asked if I wanted to help. I said yes." Yoongi sounds rueful.

"I feel very aware of it, hyung, so I'd say they did a good job." Hoseok laughs when Yoongi just flips him off.

Hoseok’s hands have gone still by this point. It’s not until Yoongi starts to tap at his keyboard that you remember the position you’re in, straddling Hoseok in his chair, your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist as you lean back against his desk- but as questionable and potentially incriminating as this entire situation seems out of context, literally no one is batting an eyelid. People are used to seeing this sort of thing from you two, both comfortable and not awkward with each other at all.

Hoseok's hands are warm and steady where they wrap around your waist. You're struck again by how large they feel- supportive, as always, when he holds you.

"Mind letting me go, cowboy?" You say. "I should go back to my desk to get some work done."

"You're more of a cowboy in this situation," Hoseok says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Seeing as you're the one that's doing the riding."

"Good lord," Yoongi mutters.

You laugh at the expression on his face before Hoseok wheels you both away from the desk so that you have room to swing your legs off him. "That's dirty, Hobi," you say, but it's said with a smile and wink.

After you've disappeared, waving at the two men, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Hoseok. "I know you two are basically married at this point, but can you try and rein in the flirting when I'm trying to work?"

"We weren't flirting," Hoseok protests. Yoongi looks unconvinced, his other eyebrow rising to match the first, and just shakes his head before he resumes Googling ways to get the permanent marker off his face.

Irene’s touch is light as she puts the makeup onto your face, surveying her work critically as she does.

“Alright, that’s the foundation done,” she says, once everything seems to have passed whatever rigorous criteria she has. “So we're onto the concealer next.”

There’s something soothing about having someone else do your makeup. Not to mention that you don’t have to worry at all about the production of the video- with your usual projects, your level of investment means that there’s always something to think about, but right now all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. You do listen and react whenever Irene shows you the products and so on, but otherwise, you are literally just sitting there and letting the other woman put stuff on your face; you can relax and unwind and let her take the lead.

Irene has just finished blending the concealer under your eyes when your phone vibrates in your pocket. While she's rummaging for the next product- setting powder- you quickly check your phone to see if it's anything important. It's Hoseok, asking where you are, because he has a coffee and Danish pastry for you and he can't find you; you realise then that you never put the Ladylike video filming into your calendar, distracted by Hoseok grabbing you, and today you'd just disappeared without telling him where you were going. Oops.

You quickly shoot him a reply before Irene starts to brush the powder across your face and you're both surprised at how well it sets. "Your skin is so nice," Irene says with a smile, sweeping the brush over your cheeks. You try not to laugh when the bristles tickles your face, flattered at her comment.

She's just finished doing your brows when you hear the studio door open and you catch sight of Hoseok. He's staying off camera next to Wendy so he doesn't get in the shot, quiet and unobtrusive, but you can't help but perk up when you see him. Although you stay silent so that it doesn’t interrupt the filming, Irene notices how you brighten and pauses in her motions to look over where Hoseok is standing.

"Hi, Hoseok." Much to your surprise, despite the fact that the cameras are rolling, Irene still greets Hoseok. You thought she'd make him wait until you were done. "You're here for Y/n, I presume?"

"I have a coffee for her," Hoseok says, a little sheepish, holding up an iced macchiato and a paper bag that's got a small grease stain spreading on it, a tantalising glimpse of the deliciousness inside. "I just came to drop it off?"

"I don't deserve you, Hobi," you say, beaming, and he smiles back at you.

Irene gestures for Hoseok to come into the frame. There’s a brief moment where you and Hoseok exchange a small, surprised look- Irene is rummaging through eyeshadow palettes and seems like she’s still going through with the video even though Hoseok is about to walk on set- but he acquiesces and steps into the shot. Irene points at the Instagram photo she has open on her iPad, which is propped on the table so she can use it for reference and zoom in if necessary. “We’re doing this look with dollar store products."

“Woah,” Hoseok says, leaning down to peer at the picture, and he sounds suitably awed. “That’s really nice. You’ve chosen one with all of Y/n’s favourite colours.”

“It’s cute, right?” You’re so excited to see the final product, even if it ends up not looking as good as what you can see on the screen, considering the cheapness of the makeup that Irene is using.

“Not as cute as you,” Hoseok says, and you blow him a kiss before looking at the iced macchiato in his hands meaningfully.

“Coffee, coffee?” You sound hopeful but Irene tuts.

“You’ll need to keep your eyes shut while I do your eyeshadow,” she says.

Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Hoseok comes to the rescue. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

And so that’s how you end up with Hoseok holding the straw of your iced coffee up to your lips while Irene applies the different shades and shimmers to your eyelids, your eyes shut as she does so; Hoseok makes appropriate ooh-ing noises, bowled over by how she manages to blend the cheap eyeshadows before doing a cut crease- you have to keep your eyes shut the whole time, letting the concealer dry on your lids so that it doesn’t smudge, gauging how it looks based on Hoseok's reactions.

Every so often Hoseok will make a small noise and then you’ll feel the straw press up against your lips, and you’ll take a sip of your drink while Irene is switching colours or brushes; you feel thoroughly pampered today and you’re enjoying it immensely. She’s been describing the different products and their quality to the camera throughout the whole video, but now that Hoseok’s there, he responds to what she’s saying, making her giggle with how enthusiastic he is despite not recognising all the terminology she’s using. Although your eyes are shut you can't help but smile: that's your Hoseok, always lightening the atmosphere and making people laugh.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” Irene says after what feels like a lifetime. The liquid eyeliner has dried by the time your eyes flutter open, the stark blackness against the expertly blended eyeshadows the first thing you notice when you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Woah, Irene! This is incredible!" You turn your head from side to side, taking in how different your eyes look after the ministrations of Irene's skilled hands. "Hobi, look at those wings! I wish I could get mine that even.” You don’t often wear liquid liner and when you do it takes you eons to get them to match, making each side bigger as you try to match the other- most of the time you just give up.

“You do look incredible,” Hoseok agrees. You look away from the mirror to smile brightly at him and then take another drink of coffee when he lifts it back up to your lips; the straw makes loud slurping noises as you reach the bottom of the cup and you end up sucking up more air than liquid, much to your disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face but then coos when you pout.

“I’m not done just yet, you know,” Irene says, unperturbed by your interactions. You wonder how this footage is going to turn out after the edit. “We still have lips and cheeks to do.”

Despite the fact your coffee is finished, Hoseok still remains next to you and watches Irene work. She lines your lips and then paints them a pleasant nude colour, before going in with an extra touch to your contour, and blush, and highlight (you’re genuinely in awe at the selection of makeup you can apparently get for a dollar each). There are so many steps involved in the execution of this look and you wonder how long it would take you to try and do this yourself, before deciding there aren’t enough hours in the day, even if Irene makes it look easy, finishing your face with a flourish.

“Alright, done!”

You pick the mirror up to tilt your head at different angles. You catch the way the highlight shimmers on your cheekbones and cupid’s bow, the way your eyes look after they’ve been shaded with colour and glitter, the sharpness of your brows, the fullness of your lips.

“I can’t believe this was all dollar store makeup,” you say, awestruck. “It’s so much like the photo! I look so good.”

“Irene had an already perfect canvas to work with,” Hoseok says, and you end up smiling so widely your eyes almost squeeze shut.

“Flatterer,” you say.

“You two are so cute.” Seulgi sighs wistfully from behind the cameras and Wendy muffles a quiet cough into her palm.

Irene asks for your opinions on the makeup- you, moreso on how it feels on your face, and Hoseok, if he thinks it looks close to the Instagram photo (he does, but he's clearly biased because you're involved, which he doesn't try to hide). Once the cameras have been cut and everything has been wrapped up, Irene says you can go and so you hop off your chair. Before you can get too far, though, Hoseok stops you, touching his fingers gently under your chin.

“Let me have a proper look.”

You immediately relax and let him tip your head slowly from one side to the other, eyes scanning across your makeup, which feels a lot heavier than you’d expected, but you’re still happy with how nice it is.

“Wah, so beautiful,” Hoseok says, a small smile on his face; it’s one of his softer ones, one that doesn’t show his teeth or his dimples, but rather squeezes his eyes into crescents, his gaze warm. Still blinding but in a different way.

“Irene did a really good job, didn’t she?” You say, enthused. Hoseok pauses, but then his teeth show as the smile grows.

“Yeah, she did.”

"Maybe I should get her to give me makeup lessons so I can look prettier more often." You've never been all too great at the more refined parts of makeup- blending eyeshadow or contouring, for example- but maybe you should add it to your repertoire, you muse.

Hoseok's smile dims as he becomes oddly sombre, hand shifting to cup the bottom of your chin so your face is gently cradled in his hand. "You're gorgeous all the time, makeup or not," he says. "Makeup is fun and you do look great but please don't think you need it to be pretty."

A shy smile plays at your lips. You feel bashful but you can't hide from Hoseok's gaze when he's holding onto you like this, but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. Hoseok knows you well enough to read your moods if you attempt to hide them- but because you trust him you don’t try to.

"Ahh, you're too sweet to me, Hoseok," you murmur. He always compliments you, but the thing with Hoseok is that he always means it, and although you should be used to it, it still catches you off guard every time.

"You deserve it." The soft smile has returned to his face and he lets his fingers drop away from your chin to tangle with yours to lead you out of the studio. “Now come on, you still have your pastry to eat.”

“I totally forgot about that! Oh, but I’ll probably smudge my lipstick.” Your sudden excitement about food dips instantly as you realise this. “I mean, I doubt dollar store stuff has much staying power anyway, but it’ll definitely smear onto the pastry, like, immediately.”

“I’ll cut it up into small pieces for you,” Hoseok says, and you make a noise of happiness as the door to the Ladylike studio shuts behind you both.

Seulgi and Wendy and Irene all look at each other, the two of you all but forgetting that they'd been standing there and had thus witnessed that entire exchange in excruciating detail. Wendy and Seulgi both open their mouths but before they can speak Irene holds up a hand. “I know,” she says. “Trust me. I know.”

Around the office, Jin might be renowned for his silliness, propensity towards dad jokes and loud laughter, but on set- while he’s still very much himself- he’s a professional and takes safety in the kitchen Very Seriously.

“If you damage any of my equipment with your clumsy fingers, I will grate so much parmesan down your throat that you die of cheese asphyxiation.”

“Sounds kinky,” Hoseok laughs, but then he jumps behind you when Jin brandishes a decorative pineapple at him as if he’s about to brain the other man.

“Babe, I’m not about to explain to your family that your final words were, and I quote, ‘sounds kinky’, especially if it was before Jin offed you via fermented dairy products,” you say, although you still shield Hoseok with your body- as if there was any chance you’d be able to stop Jin if he was on the warpath. His shoulders are so broad. Still, you’d fight him for Hoseok if you had to.

“My family love you, I think they’d be okay with it,” Hoseok says from behind you. Jin makes a weird expression with his face before he sets the pineapple back down onto the table next to the rest of your equipment, raising his eyebrows at something; before you can ask what’s up, you’re distracted by the sensation of Hoseok’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “It’s okay, Jin, Y/n and I cook together all the time. We won’t mess up.”

“Hobi’s really good at cooking,” you pipe up, and Hoseok affectionately nuzzles at the crown of your head. You cook dinner together at least once a week, trying to use different recipes each time- cooking is a great hobby because you get food at the end of it, and cooking with Hoseok is especially great because you get an excuse to break out the candles and fancy tablecloth your mother had gifted you, even if your food is something simple.

(You never thought you’d learn multiple ways to fold a napkin, but Hoseok is always so excited whenever he sees you start to crimp them into shape, so you like to mix things up for him.)

Jin’s face shifts back into that look that you’re starting to think looks like he’s eaten something that he’s not sure if he likes or not- a little disbelieving, perplexed, resigned. You never get a chance to ask why, though: Jin claps his hands and tells you to put on your aprons so you can start filming, and you eagerly pull it over your head before helping Hoseok tie his behind his back. (Jin makes the face again, but you’re too busy tying a cute bow to notice.)

Jin seems genuinely impressed when it turns out that the two of you have been telling the truth. Of course, the Tasty team member is directing you and giving instructions so it’s not as difficult as it might be otherwise, but he ends up surprisingly uninvolved with the physical part of the process; you and Hoseok hand jobs off to each other and work in tandem to prepare the dough and filling, and once the pie is in the oven you even begin to clean everything up unprompted, moving around each other with an unconscious level of ease.

Jin just ends up sitting on a stool and watching you do his ‘minion work’ although you think he just doesn’t want to get in the way. Hoseok hipchecks you gently and then giggles when you pretend to be pushed back by the strength of the motion and flop dramatically over the sink.

“How often do you two cook together?” Although the question is technically directed at the both of you, for some reason you get the feeling that Jin is aiming this more towards Hoseok, who answers him.

“Usually two or three times a week,” Hoseok says.

“Hmm. I see.” Jin looks thoughtful, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing in this simple question and answer exchange. Hoseok has an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before- which you’d thought was impossible, because you know Hoseok inside and out, and it’s confusing. You feel surprisingly unsettled by it.

Your best friend seems like he’s trying to cut whatever tension’s in the air by turning his attention back to tidying up, but he fumbles when he goes to shut a drawer and catches his fingers. He’s barely had time to make a small ow noise before you’re there, lifting his hand and inspecting it carefully. “Stop distracting my boy, Jin, let him focus on cleaning up your messy ass kitchen,” you say.

“Excuse you, my kitchen is a temple, it’s only a mess because you’ve been in here,” Jin says primly.

“Sounds like something a messy person would say.” You would roll your eyes but they’re focused on the reddened skin of Hoseok’s fingers. They just look slightly pinched, nothing major, but still. You’re careful when you touch him. You don’t want him to hurt any further. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No.” He sniffles and his lip wobbles dramatically and you laugh. You do what you always do when Hoseok hurts himself in some small, superficial way- you lift his hand to your lips and gently kiss the fingers he’d gotten caught, inflamed skin already fading back to its usual colour, pain clearly already gone.

“There,” you declare. “All better.”

Hoseok’s expression is warm and tender as he looks at you, his fingers still cradled in yours as you look up from your touching hands, and your gazes lock. There’s a brief moment of stillness, a second that starts to crystallise into something more, and you’d swear his face had just started inching forwards when there’s suddenly an almighty clattering noise from behind you and you both jump, the moment broken.

“Oops,” Jin says blithely. You turn around to discover that all the pineapple related knick-knacks and decor on the table are now scattered on the floor around him, a tangle of paper decorations and plastic fruit that’s rolling across the room. “I seem to have slipped.”

“Weren’t you just going on about how messy we were?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you’ve already turned away from Hoseok to squat down and help Jin tidy up, chasing down an errant pineapple. You don’t see the pointed look that Jin gives Hoseok behind your back, and when you turn around with the over-large pineapple clutched in your arms, both men seem to be acting like normal. “I’m going to pay Namjoon to keep that in the final cut so everyone can see how chaotic you are in the kitchen.”

“Joonie would never betray me like that,” Jin says with completely unearned confidence, just like he does with most things- but the sad thing is, he’s right. Namjoon is too much of a professional to keep unnecessary shots in the video, and besides, Jin seems able to get away with being outrageously chaotic because he’s so charming and pulls it off so well. If the footage of him somehow sending everything to the floor was kept in the video, people would probably love it.

Once the pie is done cooking and has finally cooled enough for Jin to cut it into triangular shapes, you’re so excited to eat it that you’re bouncing up and down on the spot a little. Hoseok is too. Jin humours your excitement with understanding- he loves to eat too- although he raises his eyebrows at the way you and Hoseok lock your arms together before you lean forward to take a bite of the pineapple pie. You let out a muffled little groan into the pastry once it finally touches your tongue, sweet tartness of the pineapple exploding across your tastebuds, pastry buttery and flakey as it melts in your mouth.

“Jin, this is so good,” you say, and Hoseok hums around a mouthful of fruit filling in agreement.

“I think your ghost was onto something,” Jin says. He’s already polished off his slice, while you and Hoseok are barely halfway through your own, disentangling your arms so you can focus on eating properly. Sometimes you wonder if Jin just unhinges his jaw and swallows things whole because you’ve never seen someone who can eat as quickly as he can. “They could see you pining.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know… pining… like a pineapple,” Jin says, before giggling to himself like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok, but then you take another bite of the pie and immediately forget about Jin’s cryptic nonsense.

“This is so good, isn’t it, Hobi?” You ask.

“It’s so sweet and light and delicious,” Hoseok says. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought we were talking about the pie, not me, Hoseok,” Jin says, and then lets out peals of squeaky laughter when you roll your eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you can get a cream for that,” Jin continues to laugh, before you throw a paper pineapple at him.

There’s still pie left over the next day. Of course, you’ve saved slices for the rest of your crew. Jimin and Taehyung are snacking on slices of pie as they help each other set up the cameras and mics in the studio, making sure the lighting hits you and Hoseok so that you stand out against the room behind you. Today’s the day you’ve set aside to film the 70th episode, and you’re excited for the chance to do an official retrospective of the show so that you can look back at all the places you’ve been to and the things you’ve discussed, as well as plans for the future.

“Did the two of you coordinate your outfits for the video?” Tae says curiously, and you glance down at your clothes. It’s only then you realise that- although your outfit is darker than his- there are flowers on Hoseok’s bomber jacket and your dress is covered in a floral pattern.

“Huh, I didn’t even notice,” you mutter as you pluck at your dress. “Guess we’re just telepathic.”

Hoseok stays silent, strangely enough, but when you hold your hand up for a high five he responds enthusiastically and continues to grip your hand afterwards, which makes you laugh. “That’s friendship,” he says, and you laugh again, squeezing his hand.

The two of you keep laughing as the cameras start to roll, watching the clips from your most popular episodes so far, between answering commonly asked questions from fans- one of the more frequently asked being ‘why did Hoseok agree to be a co-host when he always seems scared during filming and screams all the time?’

You read this question off your list and Hoseok’s answer is immediate. “Y/n is one of the hardest workers I know,” he says. “So I was excited to be invited on board for a show that she had created. And I wouldn’t say that I’m always screaming-”

“Yeah, when you have to pause to breathe,” you interject, and he laughs.

“Sure,” he says indulgently. “But, honestly, when Y/n is there it’s easy to forget that we’re standing in some terrifying old building or haunted tomb or whatever.” You rest your chin on your hand as you watch him continue to speak. “I would honestly be a lot more scared if she wasn’t there. She’s very good at distracting me if I’m getting too worried. She’s very comforting.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that I’m basically a defence mechanism for you.”

“Basically.” Hoseok grins at you so widely, teeth on show, gorgeous.

Now that he mentions it, it’s true that as your friendship has grown, his fear has ebbed; although he still screams as loudly as before, it happens less often, but because sudden noises and jump scares always startle him, it still happens a lot. If you don’t take the time to reflect it’s kind of easy to forget how your friendship has grown over time, which is why it’s another good reason to have this retrospective- for the sake of the series, sure, but your relationship with Hoseok has grown as the show has, too.

When you flip over the final page to read the final question, you’re surprised to see an extra one tacked onto the end- you’d been the one to select them, after all, and this one has been added after the fact, someone’s messy handwriting scratched across the paper. You don’t recognise the writing. Honestly it kind of looks like someone had written it with their non-dominant hand to avoid detection, almost like a child’s writing from a cartoon, all but missing the backward E’s- but the question is pretty innocuous, so you figure you may as well answer it. You can just ask Namjoon to cut the footage later if you don’t like it.

“Y/n: If Hoseok decided to quit being your co-host, who would you want to replace him?” You squint at the paper as you decipher the scrawl, not seeing how Jimin and Taehyung exchange a sly, down-low high five off camera. “Huh.”

“You started the series with Yoongi, right?” Hoseok pipes up. “Would you bring him back?”

You’d chosen Yoongi as your original co-host for Unsolved because you vibed well and had pretty similar opinions when it came to a lot of things, and you’d worked well together in the past, but the truth is that- “No, I wouldn’t,” you say immediately. Hoseok seems genuinely surprised. “Honestly, if you stopped co-hosting with me, that would be the end of Unsolved. Hoseok and I are a package deal at this point and I would never consider filming the show without him.”

Hoseok looks stunned, but you keep going. “The show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Yoongi was great for the videos he was in, but- even if he didn’t have other commitments, he couldn’t take over from Hobi. Unsolved isn’t just a show about the supernatural, or crimes, it’s about us dealing with the supernatural or true crimes,” you continue, and then your nose wrinkles as you realise what you’ve said. “Well, we don’t directly deal with true crimes, fortunately. I’d make a terrible detective. My hand isn’t steady enough to draw one of those chalk outlines, y’know? I’d probably just end up drawing someone who looked suspiciously like Kirby. Anyway, Hoseok is my best friend as well as my co-host; if you get one of us, you get both of us, and if you don’t get both of us, you get neither of us.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok says. It’s not the first time he’s said this to you, but you think it’s the first time he’s ever said it on camera, and his tone is strangely earnest. He must be getting really nostalgic about the start of the show if it’s making him sound like that.

“Love you too, Hobi.” You beam at him. “I’m really glad we became friends.”

Behind the cameras, Taehyung makes a weird croaking sound and Jimin hits him hard on the arm.

“Uh, normally when someone's choking you hit them on the back, Minnie,” you say.

“I’m not choking, I’m fine,” Taehyung wheezes. Jimin punches him again.

“Uh-huh.” You raise an eyebrow. “Anyway. What was I saying. Oh! Yeah, referring back to the question- while I would never stop him if he thought it was the right thing to do, I certainly hope that Hobi doesn’t want to quit being a co-host.”

“I would never.” Hoseok’s expression is weirdly intense as he says this and you can’t help but laugh.

“Good! I’m glad we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Taehyung still looks kind of constipated once filming is over, but before you can ask him what’s up, Jimin pulls him to the corner of the room and the two men exchange some quiet words. They seem oddly serious and you purse your lips as you try to work out what’s going on, but then Hoseok’s hand slips into yours and your attention is drawn away from them.

“Celebratory 70th episode filming dinner?”

“I thought we were going to have a celebratory dinner with our minions when the episode actually aired,” you say, tilting your head at Taehyung and Jimin. “Didn’t you put it in the GCal?”

“I meant just you and me,” Hoseok says, squeezing your hand gently. “A co-host only dinner.”

“Ooh, we’re in an exclusive club, are we?” You giggle and squeeze his hand back. “Sure, why not. Can we have pizza? I’m feeling like pizza.”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Hoseok answers, affection written across all his features. You go all wobbly inside, your insides melting into a puddle of goo at how warm and tender he is. You love your best friend so much. “Let’s leave those two to it, it seems like they’re busy.”

You look back over at your cameramen. Jimin has his cheeks puffed out and Taehyung looks chagrined. You purse your lips again, a little unsure if you should leave them if they’re having some sort of disagreement, but then Hoseok slips his hand out of yours and crouches down in a way that you recognise instantly. You make a noise of happiness and leap up, letting him lift you into a piggyback; you lock your arms around his neck and start to giggle as he bounces you a little, getting his hands comfortable under your calves.

“We’re off!” Hoseok announces. Jimin and Taehyung look away from their discussion to the two of you, their expressions both mirrors of each other as their eyebrows rise in unison when they spot how Hoseok is carrying you. “We’ll leave you to tidy the studio.”

“Enjoy the rest of the pie!” You wiggle your fingers at them in a little wave before squealing when Hoseok hitches you up his back again without warning, tightening your grip on him. “Pizza time, Hobi, let’s go.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you laugh before you bury your head in his hair, stifling your giggles against his scalp. He smells so nice and soft and lovely, familiar, like home.

“Wow, they’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispers behind you, though you don’t hear him, more focused on not bumping your head in the doorway as Hoseok walks you both out of the studio.

You end up going to your favourite pizzeria, sitting at your usual booth in the corner. You’ve been here so many times with Hoseok that you don’t need to look at the menu and just order your usual half-and-half, feeding each other slices of garlic bread and struggling with the gooey, molten cheese that seems to stretch endlessly from your slices of pizza. You feel warm and comfortable, your feet brushing under the small table whenever you shift your legs, laughing each time Hoseok traps your foot under his before letting you go.

“I can’t believe we’ve done 70 episodes,” you say, leaning back against the smooth leather of the booth seat after you’ve stolen a sip of Hoseok’s Sprite. “I never thought we’d get this far. I honestly thought you’d have died of fright by now,” you tease, swinging your leg gently against his.

“If I die, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave,” Hoseok says, pulling a face at you that’s clearly meant to be ghoulish, and you laugh.

“I’ll take the spirit box home from work so you can talk to me.” You lean your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your palm, still smiling. “Obviously you’d do the same for me, right?”

“As long as you kept other ghosts away from it,” Hoseok says, shivering. “I don’t want to have to talk to them too.”

“I promise. I’ll be the only thing haunting you, don’t worry.”

Hoseok smiles at you, eyes warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You share a banana split for dessert. You’re pretty full so Hoseok eats the majority of it, which gives you the opportunity to watch him, the way his dimples appear when he chews; you must have watched him eat a thousand times but you’re never any less endeared by the sight.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you say suddenly, and Hoseok looks up, cheeks bulging with ice cream and banana.

“Hmrh?” He makes a noise of questioning around his mouthful of food, and you laugh when you spot a smear of chocolate sauce on his chin. You swipe it away with your thumb before mindlessly sucking it off, too distracted by the sweetness bursting across your tongue to notice how Hoseok stares at the motion with wide eyes. He swallows. “What?”

“When I said that I was glad that we became friends,” you say. “When I first asked you to star in an episode I never thought we’d end up here, you know? But… I’m really happy. And I really do love you a lot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiles all the time. In fact, you’d say he spends more time smiling than he doesn’t, happiness always radiating from his face like sunlight shining down from the sky, golden and bright- but the smile he gives you right now is softer than that. It’s more like the softness of the sunrise, spilling over you through just-opened curtains, warm and gentle and comforting.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he says. “More than anything.”

You put a hand over your face as you giggle bashfully at the earnest look on his face. “Stop,” you whine. “You’re so cheesy, oh my God.”

“You said it first,” Hoseok points out, but he starts to laugh along with you, before the server comes over to give you your bill and you end up fighting over who pays- Hoseok wins, much to your disappointment, but lets you front the tip as a compromise.

As always he catches the subway with you and holds your hand all the way home, only letting go when you get to the door of your apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says, and you glance up from where you’ve been rummaging in your bag for your keys.

“Bright and early as always,” you reply, smiling. “I’ll make sure to bring your casserole dish back tomorrow, it’s still on my counter. I’ll make you some lunch to make up for how long I’ve kept it.”

“Okay.” Hoseok watches as you finally unearth your keys, jingling them triumphantly as you do. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You look up from where you’ve been fitting the keys into the lock. “Yes?”

“I meant it when I said it, too.” He looks oddly sombre, none of the usual levity on his face. “I love you more than anything, Y/n.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, stuttering a little at his tone and his expression. He’s told you that he loves you, sure, and you always say it back, but Hoseok’s never said it like this: like there’s more meaning behind his words than normal. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place, key still pressed into the lock- but before you can gather your thoughts Hoseok’s face is morphing into his usual smile before he dips forwards and kisses you on the forehead.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t forget the casserole dish!”

And then he’s bouncing down the steps just like he always does, turning momentarily to give you a jaunty wave before walking briskly back in the direction of the subway.

“See you tomorrow,” you echo faintly, feeling off kilter and off balance as you watch him disappear into the distance.

Okay. So. You’ve told yourself on multiple occasions that, nowadays, what you feel for Hoseok is entirely platonic. He’s your best friend, and you love him, and it’s very easy to feel romantically inclined towards your friends sometimes because friendship involves love, and you should be friends with your romantic partners anyway, so there’s a lot of overlap. You may have lingering memories of your crush, yes, but you’re over it.

At least, you could have sworn you were. So why are you projecting onto Hoseok again all of a sudden? When he said he loved you, it wasn’t a romantic confession, despite what your instincts might be telling you. Your brain is screaming at you to look at it logically, and you’re trying your best to tell yourself that, that it Wasn’t Romantic and it was Just Hoseok Being Hoseok, the man who tells all his friends that he loves them on a regular basis, it wasn’t romantic.

“Morning, baby,” Hoseok says, smiling at you, before noticing both the coffees you’re holding. “Ooh, is one of those for me?”

“Hi.” Your voice is weirdly breathless. “Yeah, I got your favourite.”

Hoseok lights up and makes grabby hands at you, and you feel utterly helpless as you hand it over. You feel like Past-Y/n, a previous version of yourself, the one that was still new to BigHit and used to get all in a muddle when Hoseok so much as looked at you. You feel like you’re rediscovering your crush all over again, like some sort of giddy schoolgirl, and you kind of want to slap yourself- but then Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee and makes a little noise of pleasure and all that self-hatred turns to static, replaced with nothing but affection for the man holding the door open for you.

You manage to keep it together pretty well, for the most part, you think. It’s not until you leave your computer to speak to Hoseok about something that you nearly lose it. He sees you coming and smiles widely, instinctively wheeling away his desk and patting his lap in invitation. Your brain goes blank as you panic and you abruptly swerve and act like you were walking over to Jungkook the whole time, missing the way Hoseok’s face drops with disappointment.

You’ve been lurking to one side of Jungkook’s desk for a few minutes before the man acknowledges you, looking away from the video he’s apparently editing to raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you lost? Hobi-hyung is over there.” Jungkook starts to point but then you grab his hand before anyone notices, pushing it back down against his desk.

“I know where Hobi is,” you say through gritted teeth. Jungkook blinks at you as you continue to trap his hand against his desk, tightening your grip when his fingers twitch. “I am having a small crisis and I would appreciate it if you let me pretend to have a conversation with you about work.”

Jungkook looks baffled but doesn’t argue, clearly a little scared of how tightly you’re grasping his fingers. “Um, okay,” he says, slowly. “Do you need to hold my hand at the same time?”

You look down at where your hands are still connected before you release him. He flexes his fingers with a wince. “Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look.” He sounds impressed. “Have you been working out?”

“I bench press the weight of my stupidity daily,” you sigh. Jungkook lets your words pass without comment, putting his free hand back onto his mouse and resuming his work. You squint at his screen, intrigued. “What are you working on?”

You end up perching on Jungkook’s desk as he talks you through his most recent project, and how he and Tae have almost finished putting together the cat shelter video- you coo at all the footage of the different cats, small kittens to mangy strays, scruffy and cute. You’re too busy laughing at the unflattering shots they have of Yoongi while he’d been sleeping before they’d written across his face and you don’t notice how Hoseok keeps looking over with a mix of confusion and almost hurt flashing across his features.

He doesn't show any of this when you meet him later, though. You’ve recomposed yourself by the time lunch rolls around and you manage to return Hoseok’s casserole dish without fumbling. Despite your inner turmoil last night you’d still made time to pack lunch for the two of you, using the cute lunchboxes that Hoseok’s family had given you last Christmas- he lights up when he sees the dosirak you’ve packed, fluffy rice and other side dishes, all of his favourites.

“You are a blessing,” he says, and you smile as he eagerly dives in. You tackle your own food more slowly, having to approach the kimbap carefully because of how you’d been overzealous with the filling. “Ooh, can I have some of that?”

“Sure,” you say, gesturing at the bite sized slices in the tub in front of you. Instead of taking one of those, however, Hoseok leans forward for the piece of kimbap you’ve already grabbed. You’re frozen in place as you feel his lips around your fingers, teeth lightly grazing your skin as you instinctively surrender the food to his mouth, a light swipe of his tongue over your fingertips to catch the light sheen of sesame oil there, soft and wet against your touch.

Hoseok leans back and chews like nothing is out of the ordinary- and to be fair, you’ve fed finger foods to him before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but right now you feel like you’re on the verge of a meltdown. Your brain keeps replaying the past few seconds, the softness of his lips around your fingers, the wet of his tongue against them, the way his eyelashes had fanned out against his cheek as he’d glanced down at the food in your hand. You are Very Much Not Okay.

Hoseok is still happily chewing his kimbap, swallowing it down and taking a sip of water before he seems to notice that you’ve gone eerily silent. “Y/n?” He blinks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Um. I just remembered that I. Have a thing? I have to? Go do? You can eat the rest, seeyoulaterBYE.”

You can’t let this crush rear its head like this again and make your friendship awkward. The two of you have shared the same bed more times than you can count, for God’s sake, and you’ve even discussed rooming together- the rent in LA isn’t exactly cheap, and if you pooled your resources you could get a pretty nice place- and that had all been okay! That hadn’t made you feel strange at all! But Hoseok eats food from your hand like he has a thousand times and you’re spiralling out of control like this? Why is this happening now?

Ugh. Ughughughugh. Stupid.

Namjoon finds you hidden away in the Unsolved studio later, where you’ve absconded with your tablet to try your best to get some work done with your limited resources, hidden away from everyone; it’s weird being in here when you’re not filming, without Hoseok in the seat next to you, so you’re not really doing a great job. (You’ve spent more time blankly watching Queer Eye on Netflix than you have being productive.)

“Hey, Y/n.” Namjoon’s gentle voice is like a balm to your soul. Hoseok might be your best friend now, but Namjoon was your friend first and the two of you are still close, both in and out of work. He’d made you feel comfortable and welcome when you’d first joined the team and continues to support all your projects. He’s a really great friend and colleague and an even better person.

You smile at him as he shuts the door. You can tell he’s trying to do it quietly but ends up accidentally slamming it loudly, and you stifle a laugh as you notice the guilt that appears on his face.

“Joonie! Come on in.” You beckon at the seat next to you, scooting away a little so he plenty of room to sit. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some editing stuff but Hobi said you’d disappeared somewhere for a, um, ‘thing’.” Namjoon doesn’t comment on the fact that you still clearly have Queer Eye open on your tablet, Jonathan’s face a blur on the screen from where you’ve paused it during a transitional shot. Instead he sits carefully down next to you and leans back in the chair, adjusting his glasses; he looks particularly cozy today, with his glasses and jumper and cardigan. He pulls off the Hot Academic look really well. “Any particular reason why you’ve squirreled yourself away here?”

You muffle a sigh, looking down at the notebook you have next to your tablet; what little handwriting is on the page is especially messy and disjointed, reflecting your distracted mind. Namjoon has a naturally reassuring presence anyway but his outfit today seems to accentuate that even further, like you could bury your head into the fuzziness of his jumper and find inner peace.

“Oh, okay, I suppose this is happening,” he says.

Yep, the jumper is just as soft as you’d thought, and it smells nice and soft too. Namjoon doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve smooshed your face into his shoulder and instead he angles himself so you’re both more comfortable, and he starts to pat your back soothingly. It’s nice, of course, but you can’t help but compare his touch to Hoseok’s- Namjoon is more methodical and measured, like he’s thinking about each motion, while Hoseok just seems smoother and more natural because he’s always touching you, second nature by now.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ughughughughguhguh,” you say articulately into the weave of Namjoon’s clothing. He chuckles warmly.

“Long day?”

Good old Namjoon. A gentle question, open ended, offering you the opportunity to deflect, or tell him the truth. You turn your head to avoid getting jumper lint in your mouth, but stay leaned against him.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s just…” You struggle to put it into words, but Namjoon just waits patiently while he continues to pat your back. “It’s Hobi?”

Namjoon’s hand goes still, though you’re not sure if it’s because of your words themselves or the tone of them, the way you pitched it up at the end like a question, like you weren’t too sure yourself. “Did he do something?”

“No! No. Yes? No,” you settle on. “No, no he didn’t. It’s not him, it’s me,” you say. “Ugh.”

You end up pulling away from Namjoon to scrub tiredly at your face, not noticing his expression, which he quickly reschools when you look back at him. “We were just doing our usual thing, you know,” you say, and Namjoon nods as he listens, even though your description is incredibly vague and could mean any number of things. “But then he said he loved me and like- we’re best friends, we say we love each other a lot, it’s not unusual or anything, but… I guess it got to me this time? Like it felt like something more than just friendship? He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but I guess it’s hard to, uh, shake that feeling now that it’s gotten into my head.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Although Namjoon seems a little perplexed he’s still clearly concerned, and your eyes widen.

“What? No, no, it’s fine! I don’t mind it. It’s more that-” You pause. You’ve never actually voiced your less-than-platonic feelings for Hoseok out loud, though you’re certain it must have been obvious to start with- even though no one had ever mentioned it or teased you about it, so maybe they hadn't noticed.

Either way, it sort of feels like once you put the words out into the world then the truth will linger and be unavoidable in a way that you’ve been desperately avoiding so far. But it’s just you, and Namjoon, and you would trust Namjoon with your life, even if you wouldn’t trust him to hold anything fragile or delicate. “It’s not the idea of Hoseok loving me like that that makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t want things to be weird?” Namjoon continues to look levelly at you, waiting patiently for you to get to the point, and you take in a deep breath. “IhaveacrushonHobi,” you rush out. “And I don’t want to ruin the friendship by reading into things too much because I’m being overly hopeful or something.”

Namjoon pauses. He looks thoughtful as he fixes his gaze on you through his glasses. “Y/n.” He sounds solemn, like he’s discussing something of deep importance, like your tiny breakdown over your best friend requires the same level of gravity as the rapid disappearance of bees, or climate change- like it’s something world changing and heavy and important. He’s not doing what you’ve done over the years, as in, desperately tried to minimise your feelings just so you can stay sane. “You sound unhappy about it.”

“I am unhappy about it,” you say, unhappy. “Hobi is my best friend and I do love him a lot, and I’m happy being friends, and I reallyreallyreally don’t want to make things weird. I should be used to this by now, it’s not like what he and I do is anything I’m not used to.”

“Things change when romantic feelings develop,” Namjoon says, ever patient, and you let out a pained little groan.

“It’s not- these feelings aren’t new, Namjoon.” You sigh, and for the first time since you started this conversation, Namjoon looks surprised. Guess your crush on Hoseok hadn’t been obvious in the beginning, then. “I don’t know if I ever told you that I met Hoseok before I even got a job here, technically?”

You’d come out of your BigHit interview feeling unsure. Off balance. You hadn’t known if you’d come across as desperate and too eager to please, rather than a go-getter team player, but all you’d been able to think about was how getting a job at BigHit would mean that you could finally save up enough to move out of the awful shared room you were in with the mould in the corner that kept coming back no matter how many times you cleaned it. The interview had gone on longer than you thought and you barely had time to get to Starbucks before your shift started- if you got a job at BigHit you could finally quit that place- and you’d hurried to leave the building only to discover that it was raining.

“Oh,” you’d said.

You’d stood in the reception area, staring out of the glass windows at the torrential downpour outside; it had been sunny earlier that day, no indication that the heavens were going to open, and you hadn’t brought a coat or umbrella with you. Your one nice interview outfit was going to get drenched, and it was going to stay wet in your locker at Starbucks while you were working, and basically the entire month had been just terrible and after a potentially wasted interview you just kind of wanted to cry.

Before the tears could start to pool in your eyes, however, Hoseok had appeared. Not that you’d known him or his name at the time, of course, but he’d swept into the building like some burst of sunlight that had cut through the clouds despite the rain, shaking an umbrella off before laughing at Yoongi’s disgruntled face at the scattering water. You’d been stunned by the sudden flare of energy in the room and were still standing there when Hoseok’s eyes fell on you, on your stance, the way you were staring at the grey skies outside and the obvious lack of an umbrella in your hands.

And he’d just- he’d just walked up to you like you were friends, like he knew you, and he’d proffered the still damp umbrella, like it was nothing.

“It’s raining pretty heavily out there,” he’d said, and he’d been smiling, and you’d looked at him in shock, and he’d laughed. “You’ll need this.”

“I- what?”

“You clearly need this more than me,” Hoseok had said, bright smile fading into something a little more gentle, and you’d accepted the umbrella with unsteady hands, unable to say no to this sunshine of a man. “Feel free to give it back whenever.”

“I- I don’t work here,” you’d admitted, shamefaced. “I’m just here for an interview.”

“So you can give it back to me once you get the job.” Hoseok had said it like it was a done deal, like there weren’t other people vying for the position you’d applied for, people who were probably infinitely more qualified and better in interviews. “Okay?”

For the first time that month, you’d felt like someone believed in you- because you certainly didn’t believe in yourself. But Hoseok had been smiling at you, with his heart shaped mouth and his bright eyes, and you’d felt like a flower basking in his rays, turning towards him as your petals unfurled in his light, and you’d said- “Sure. Yes. I will.”

Here, now, in the present, you look down at your hands as you finish telling this story. “I just put the umbrella on his desk when he wasn’t around, after I got the job,” you tell Namjoon. “I didn’t talk to Hobi for ages because I didn’t- I didn’t have the strength to look him in the face without, you know. Without making it obvious that I had a raging schoolgirl crush on him. And he never said anything about it- I don't think he even remembered me at all, he'd just given some person his umbrella because they needed it, you know? And then we became friends and my crush died down and everything was okay, but- I guess the crush never really went away after all. Ugh,” you say. “This sucks, Joon. It sucks.”

The way Namjoon looks at you is compassionate and soft. “I know,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’re worried about this, because your friendship with Hoseok is important to you. But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble, and Namjoon chuckles.

“No, I’m not,” he says, gently. “I think you need to be more confident in what you and Hoseok have. Even if you admitted your feelings and he didn’t feel the same, you know he loves you too much to throw your friendship away, and it’s strong enough that it can survive whatever’s thrown at it. But, if you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn, I would wager you’re not the only one with romantic feelings, Y/n.”

“You’re very sweet, Joonie, but I really don’t think that’s the case.” You let out a little self-pitying sigh. “Hobi’s just so lovely to everyone, it probably seems like that because we’re best friends.”

One of Namjoon’s eyebrows rises. “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes,” you say, a little miserable, looking down as you pick at a loose thread in one of your sleeves. “People mistake us as a couple a lot because we’re so close, you know? But Hoseok doesn’t see me like that.”

“Mm.” Namjoon makes a little noise of understanding, giving you a considering look as you continue to unravel your sleeve. “I see.”

He eventually coaxes you out of the studio, and when he discovers that you never finished your lunch he brings you to the café around the corner that all the BigHit employees love; you pick up an iced coffee for Hoseok, just the way he likes it. You feel better after talking to Namjoon and by the time you leave the café you feel pretty much back to normal. Mostly relaxed. You don’t feel weird when Hoseok lights up when he sees you, because he always does, because you’re his best friend, and this is normal. You can be normal.

“Again? It was my turn to get you coffee,” Hoseok says with a pout and you laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” When you hand Hoseok his drink and your fingers brush, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your friendship with Hoseok is more important than your other feelings for him, and you’ll just focus on that. You’re not sure that’s what Namjoon was trying to communicate to you, with all his listening and gentle words, but you can bottle up these emotions and keep them on lockdown until the weird feeling passes. It’ll work. You’ll be fine.

A few hours later, you realise that you’re not fine.

“Joonie!” You pounce on Namjoon when you find him alone in the break room, filling a glass at the tap. He jumps and sends water sloshing over his hands when he drops his cup, though it fortunately doesn’t break when it clatters into the sink. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m not going to point out that you snuck up on me from behind without making any noise, but, that’s okay,” Namjoon says, ever tolerant. He very carefully puts the glass upright in the middle of the sink before he turns around. “What’s up?”

“I, um, am maybe panicking a little bit,” you admit in a hushed voice, even though there’s no one else in the tiny kitchen with you. “So you know Unsolved has a bigger budget now that we’re more popular? And I’ve been pushing for us to go abroad somewhere on said bigger budget? And they said we could schedule some episodes for Britain because basically every other building in Britain is haunted?”

“Yes, I am aware,” Namjoon says. “I did help you to draft the emails that you sent management.”

“You did, and I’m still eternally grateful,” you say, truthfully. “But I’ve been so caught up in the 70th episode retrospective and my much more recent, uh, Hoseok related stuff, that I totally forgot how soon it was coming up and we fly to London next week?”

Namjoon blinks at you. “You have plenty of time to pack before next week, why are you panicking?”

You muffle a scream into your hands while Namjoon looks on with concern.

“It’s not packing I’m worried about, Joon,” you say once you’ve pulled your face out of your palms. “It’s just that when we’re abroad I’m not going to be able to get away from Hoseok and I’m worried that I’m going to erupt like a volcano and spew all my emotions over him and then I’m going to have to change my name and drop off the grid forever when he inevitably rejects me, and I was always terrible at camping. I could never get the fire to light.”

Namjoon, for all that his patience seems endless and eternal, gives you a look that borders on weary. Like he’s the father to a child who keeps eating glue even after being told that there’s no nutritional value in it and they should be using it for macaroni art anyway, and also why are they eating the glue when it’d make more sense to eat the pasta that’s right there, even if it’s uncooked?

“First of all, you can be off the grid and still have access to ways of heating that don’t require fire,” he says. “And second of all, why are you panicking so much about London?”

“Because Hobi always gets super clingy when we fly anywhere.” You shuffle from foot to foot, feeling awkward. “And that’s when we’re still in the US. I feel like if we’re in a different country it’ll be compounded? Even if I don’t say anything out loud, I feel like my feelings will be obvious just in the way I act?”

Namjoon pauses before he grips your shoulders. His palms feel so big and warm, a steadying presence. “Would that be so terrible? Think about it, Y/n. If that was the case, then it gives Hobi the opportunity to speak out if he notices. If your friendship is entirely platonic to him, then he won’t notice, right? You’ll be okay.”

You open your mouth to take in a breath and respond, but before you can say anything Seokjin comes sauntering into the cramped break area, entirely indifferent to the weird atmosphere he’s walked into. His eyebrows raise as he spots how you and Namjoon are standing. “Ooh, are we gossiping? Is there tea to be spilled? You both look very serious, let me in on it.”

“I was just asking Namjoon if there was any advice he could give me about travelling to Britain,” you lie.

“She didn’t realise that over there lemonade is like soda.” Namjoon lets his hands drop from your shoulders as he plays along with ruse, and your face twists up in confusion.

“It’s what?” You look at him for a second before realising that Jin is staring at you, and you pretend to laugh. “Ohh, yeah, haha! Yeah, that’s crazy, haha. Um, I should get back to my desk for my notebook, I should write this down before I forget,” you say, before scuttling out of the break room.

Once you’ve disappeared, Seokjin gives Namjoon a long look. “I can’t believe you haven’t broken yet,” he says. “I still personally think we should just lock them both in a room together until one of them confesses, but apparently that’s ‘inappropriate workplace behaviour’.” The air quotes he makes are exaggerated and theatrical, as if the entire thing is a farce.

“It is and I’m not going to take that statement back,” Namjoon responds. Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically but Namjoon ignores him. “It’s better if they come around to it by themselves. I believe in them. Besides, weren’t you the one who intervened when it looked like Hoseok was going to kiss her? I had to edit that footage, I saw how you pushed all those decorations off the table.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. “Can you imagine the chaos if he’d done that without either of them confessing properly first? They’d both pretend like it never happened. I was doing them a favour.” He casts a sideways look at Namjoon, who nods in reluctant agreement. “You know the rest of the office has a pool on how soon one of those idiots actually confesses? Do you want in on it? If either one of us gets it, we can split it 50/50.”

“That’s also grossly inappropriate,” Namjoon says, before he pauses. “Hm. How much is in the pool?”

Turns out you didn’t need to worry so much.

“Oh my God, look at that!” Hoseok has his face pressed up against the glass of the pod, the London Eye giving you the opportunity to look down at the metropolis of the city sprawling out below you; Hoseok’s pointing at a weirdly shaped skyscraper, panels of glass refracting off alternate shades of blue. “That’s so cool!”

“I think it’s called The Gherkin,” you say and he makes a noise of delight. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung take a selfie with the panorama of London behind them, and you smile.

It’s true that Hoseok has been clingier than usual. The thing is, though, you’ve been clingier too; you’ve had time between filming to do some sightseeing, and neither of you have been to London before, so everything is exciting and fun and new, and you’ve been holding onto each other throughout the journey, familiarity in an unfamiliar place. You’re too busy taking in the sights and travelling from place to place, you and Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung cramming close together each time you take the Tube somewhere, or asking people to take photos of you, and you’re having too much fun to worry about anything else.

You even get recognised a few times, which is exciting. You know Unsolved is popular but there’s something gratifying about people an ocean away knowing who you are and enjoying your work- you look on fondly as Hoseok makes your fans laugh, putting the nervous ones at ease, before shuffling together so they can take photos with you. It’s lovely, really, and you’re so glad that you and Hoseok get to experience this together. There’s no one else you’d rather be with.

You’d had a brief moment of panic after filming the first episode, Hoseok sliding into your bed as per usual, but you’d both been so tired and jetlagged that you’d basically fallen asleep the second he’d finished wrapping his arms around you, so it had been okay. You weren’t as jetlagged for the second episode, of course, but there was something soothing about having Hoseok curled around you as he slept; despite how your heart probably should have been racing, it had just gone quiet instead, slipping into a gentle beating rhythm as you’d drifted into sleep.

So on the whole it’s been all been going a lot better than you’d thought. It feels natural to let your head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you both stare out of the train window, watching the fields and villages slip by as you race out of London to your final filming location, only a few days away from jetting home again.

“We should come back,” Hoseok says suddenly, his voice low enough that Jimin and Taehyung aren’t distracted from the card game they’re playing together across the aisle from you.

“For more episodes? We’ll probably have to wait till the next quarter so there’s money in the budget.” You turn away from the view outside to look up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “We can start looking up other haunted locations when we get home, if you want.”

Hoseok smiles. “I meant we should come back just for a regular holiday,” he says. “So we don’t have to worry about rushing from place to place. I know you’re disappointed we didn’t have time to see the Royal Botanic Gardens. I know how much you love flowers.”

Oh. You keep looking up at Hoseok, the way you have such a perfect view of the round apples of his cheeks, the swoop of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw- you think about walking hand in hand with him past bursting blooms, through delicate arching greenhouses, surrounded by colour and beauty, and you know you’d still think he was the most beautiful flower there.

“I’d like that,” you say quietly. You’re almost drowned out by how loudly Taehyung yells snap! and the subsequent groan Jimin lets out, but you know Hoseok hears you by the way his mouth lifts into a smile. “Is there anything you wanted to see next time?”

Hoseok shrugs, but only with one shoulder, doing a little jiggle with the one you’re not resting your chin on, which makes you smile. “Nothing specific,” he says. “I’m happy as long as I get to see it with you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he says this, words settling deep in your chest, and you turn your head so that your cheek is resting on his shoulder again, shirt soft against your skin. “Love you, Hobi.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond straight away, but then he turns his head and kisses the crown of your head lightly. “Love you too.”

You arrive in Colchester in the late afternoon, and you don’t film until tomorrow, so after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff at your apparently haunted bed and breakfast, you make the group decision to just chill out for the evening and grab a couple of drinks. There’s a pub near your B&B so you and the boys pile into it, claiming a table in the corner so that you’re not in the way of the regulars, although every so often one of you has to venture up to the bar to order your drinks, trying to follow whatever sort of queuing system seems to be going on. (After the lemonade thing you had actually ended up actually asking Namjoon about Britain and the etiquette over here, and he was very insistent on following queues.)

By the time it’s your turn to grab the drinks it seems like it’s starting to get busy, so it’s taking some time for the bartender to get to you, but that’s okay- you lean against the bar and scroll through your phone, taking the opportunity to double check your schedule for tomorrow, when you feel someone tap your arm and you glance up.

“Hi,” the man says. He’s been waiting nearby, lounging against the bar, similar to you. “Are you waiting for a drink? You can go first, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, no!” You shake your head and laugh a little. “You were here before me, that’s okay.”

When he hears your accent his eyes light up. “Oh, are you a tourist? I thought I hadn’t seen you around, because I definitely would have remembered you. How long are you over here for?”

“Uh, just a couple of nights.” You smile at him. “I’m guessing you’re a local?”

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you. “I could show you around, if you’d like.”

You startle at the sudden sensation of hands sliding around your waist, but it only takes you a second to recognise the touch and you relax against Hoseok, your back pressed against his chest as you turn away from the man to glance up at your friend. “Hi, baby,” he says. “Did you make a friend?”

“We’ve only just started talking, actually,” you say, turning back to the guy you have yet to introduce yourself properly to. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“That’s okay. I think my friends are calling me,” he says, and he pushes himself off the bar before brushing himself down and then walking away, giving both of you a polite little nod as he passes.

“He never even ordered his drinks.” You blink with confusion and then shrug. “Oh well, means we’ll get ours sooner. You can go sit back down, Hobi, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m already here, I may as well stay with you,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you don’t argue. He keeps hold of you as you wait and then helps you carry your drinks to the table before he pulls you onto his lap, keeping you in place with one hand splayed over your stomach while he uses the other to lift his glass to his mouth.

“Fuck chairs, right?” Jimin says. Taehyung elbows him.

“Don’t be jealous because I have the best seat in the house,” you say, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin.

He gives you a mock affronted gasp and clutches his chest and you laugh before settling back against Hoseok, comfortable on your familiar perch atop his thighs. Hoseok might be the world’s biggest lightweight and easily gets tipsy over a single sip of alcohol- but despite this, his hold on you is firm and steady, even when he’s laughing over your shoulder, keeping you safe in his lap. He keeps stealing sips of your drink, dipping his head forwards to capture your straw whenever you’re not paying attention, but you don’t mind. What’s yours is Hoseok’s. (You’ve been taking sips of his beer, too, even if you make a face at the bitterness each time.)

By the time you shuffle back to your B&B, you’re all pleasantly drunk and keep giggling at each other about dumb and inconsequential things, although you’re careful to keep your voices down so that you don’t disturb anyone, trying to keep your footsteps light as you walk up the stairs. Jimin and Taehyung’s room is a little further up the corridor than yours and you clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter when you see Taehyung trying to open the wrong door before Jimin redirects him.

You might not be too much better, but at least you remember which room is yours- you unlock the door on your first try, although it’s a little hard to step inside with how Hoseok is wrapped around your back, trying to time his steps with yours but failing a little with how tipsy he is. You keep laughing whenever he moves his feet forwards at the wrong time, a messy tangle of limbs that keep bumping together as you kick your shoes off, and you end up collapsing onto one of the beds with Hoseok still clinging onto you. He tips over backwards while your back is still pressed to his chest and you let out a little squeal at the sudden falling sensation, but he cushions your fall without complaint and still doesn’t let go, even when you accidentally elbow him in the sternum.

“We should wash up and get in our pyjamas,” you say, but you’re already wriggling into a more comfortable position, turning over so you can look at his face instead of staring up at the ceiling. Hoseok’s head has sunken into one of the fluffy hotel-style pillows, his hair a messy halo around his head, face flushed red from the alcohol. You smile down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“You’re so drunk,” you giggle, but you rest your head on his chest and let your body relax, muscles unwinding as you let out a long, happy sigh. “We can move later, then.”

Even though you’d genuinely meant to get up and do your nightly ritual, you’re so comfortable snuggled with Hoseok in the soft bed that you drift off. For once, you fall asleep before him, eyes fluttering shut as your breaths deepen with sleep; Hoseok keeps stroking a hand down your back, brushing tenderly down the line of your spine with his long fingers in a way he’s done a thousand times. He’s still grateful for the opportunity every time, though- that he gets to see you like this, that he can touch you like this, that you’ve allowed him so deeply into your life and made a home in his, too.

“Goodnight, baby,” Hoseok says, voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. You’re so deeply asleep that you don’t stir, but he’s still careful and gentle when he touches his lips to your forehead with the lightest of pressures, tender. “Sleep well.”

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a long time to come fully to your senses. You feel warm and heavy, surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets and Hoseok, and you don’t want to wake up just yet; you’re in that soft place between waking and sleeping, drifting in wakeful limbo as you slowly start to regain a sense of who you are and where you are.

Your brain flickers on, starting to pull itself together as the sensation of being a singular warm mass starts to dissolve, drawing up a mental map of how your body is slotted against Hoseok’s, where your limbs start and his end. That’s your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That’s his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close even in your sleep. That’s your hand, resting on his hip, fingers hooked in his belt. Those are your legs, tangled around his, your toes pressed to his calf, and that’s-

Your eyes fly open. You’re still wearing your clothes from the night before, thicker denim of your jeans rather than the flimsy cotton of your pyjamas, but you know exactly what’s pressed against your hip bone. You’ve slept in the same bed with Hoseok enough times that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken to his morning wood, but you’ve never been this tangled up before; you normally slide out of bed and pretend you haven’t noticed anything, and by the time Hoseok wakes up it’s normally gone, or he subtly shuffles off to the bathroom to deal with it, thinking that you’re none the wiser.

It’s natural, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but right now all you can think of is the hand you have near his hip, how close it is to his arousal, how easy it would be to slip your hand past his belt and jeans and boxers to grasp that hard, heavy heat-

You stiffen. You would never, ever do that, not ever, never take advantage of Hoseok while he was sleeping, and you know it was just a flickering thought in your still sleepy brain, probably still a little drunk, too- but you feel sick. You can’t believe you would even hypothetically consider taking advantage of him like that. If you were more than friends, then, sure, you’d wake Hoseok up with a pleasuring touch- but you’re not. You’re not.

It takes a real feat of slow, drawn out acrobatics, but you manage to extricate yourself from Hoseok’s grasp without waking him. He only wakes up to the sound of the shower rumbling through the wall, blinking as he realises that his arms are empty, even though he should be used to this by now. By the time you walk out of the ensuite, towelling off your hair, Hoseok’s got a cup of tea waiting for you by the kettle, a few scattered milk droplets nearby from the tiny, complimentary pots.

“Morning, baby.” He’s still sleepy and there’s a crease on his cheek from where he’d turned his head into the pillow, hair ruffled, shirt wrinkled after a night of sleeping in it. “Tea?”

You feel a little better after your hot shower, scrubbing all the dirty thoughts off your skin, but when Hoseok looks so soft and homely like this it’s hard not to want to just eat him whole.

“Ooh, how British,” you say, trying to laugh- Hoseok still seems too heavy-eyed to notice how you’re a little bit off right now, thankfully. “Yes, please.”

Unfortunately, you can’t shake your lingering weirdness and feelings of guilt, and when Hoseok wakes fully, he notices. You’re not due to film at Colchester Castle until it’s night time, shooting the episode when it’s going to be dark, so you’ve organised a day trip to the town’s zoo- Colchester Zoo is huge, full of all sorts of animals and exhibits, and Hoseok’s been excited to visit it from the moment he found out about it.

You’d even looked up the map online so that you could plan out the optimum route and ensure you didn’t miss anything, the two of you crowding around your phone screen and pointing excitedly at the names of the different exhibits, ready and raring to go.

So Hoseok is understandably a little stunned when you apparently seem to want to drag your feet and stay with Jimin and Taehyung instead. Both the boys want to just wander around the zoo willy-nilly, separating off from you and taking it slow- but after a brief, silent discussion between the two of them, eyes flicking at each other and then back to you, they agree to come with you on your planned route.

You send up a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening. You can use the chaotic duo as cushioning and put them between you and Hoseok if you need to.

You know you’re not being especially subtle right now, but every time Hoseok moves closer to you all you can think about is how his choice of outfit today is fraying your already delicate nerves, the loose fabric of his fashionable sweatpants doing nothing to protect the outline of his dick from your wandering gaze. You don’t mean to look, but you can’t help it, even if you’re fairly certain that half the time it’s just a crease in the fabric from how he’s standing and not actually his dick, but-

“I thought it’d be harder than that,” Taehyung says. “It’s so much hairier than I thought it would be.”

You freeze, eyes shooting away from Hoseok’s crotch. Luckily no one seems to be paying you any attention and instead the boys are peering into the armadillo exhibit, watching as the animal snuffles around the ground.

“They don’t call it a large hairy armadillo for nothing,” Jimin giggles. “And it’s still a baby, the armour hasn’t grown in properly yet. It’ll look harder once it’s grown up a bit.”

All the tension rushes out of your body at once. Jesus Christ.

Hoseok notices you slumping a little, glancing up from the map when he hears the sigh of air escape your body. “Are you okay?” He seems concerned.

“Never better,” you lie unconvincingly, giving him a weak smile. “What’s next on the list?”

Hoseok seems concerned about you for the whole day, and even a little hurt when you keep slipping out of his grasp, but the truth is that you need to put some distance between the two of you right now, for the sake of your own heart and sanity. Being desperately head over heels for Hoseok is one thing and you’d just started becoming okay with that again, but this sudden wave of physical yearning (you’re too embarrassed to think of it as horniness) is out of the left field and it’s a lot harder to cover up. You hate seeing sadness on Hoseok’s face, and normally you’d be cooing over him and asking him to tell you what’s wrong- but you know what’s wrong. It’s you.

“Do you think something happened?” Taehyung whispers quietly to Jimin, the two of them watching as you act like you’ve been distracted by the Koi fish and walk away from Hoseok as he’s just about to reach for your hand.

“I think we’re reaching critical mass.” Jimin pretends to read from the zoo map. “We’ve nearly hit the nuclear reaction and one of them is finally going to blow. It might get messy.”

“I hope not,” Taehyung says, watching the way Hoseok stares at the back of your head as you peer into the tank of glittering fish. “I’ve never been good at cleaning up.”

It’s a little easier once the evening finally rolls around and Hoseok replaces those delicious sweatpants with marginally more professional jeans, as ripped as they are. It’s also easier to slip into the natural rhythm and rapport you have when you’re being filmed- it’s not that you’re ever any faker on camera, but it’s just an unthinking response to the sight of them, your body switching from Normal mode to Work mode. Taehyung readjusts the camera rig you have looped around your body while Jimin sorts out Hoseok, night vision lens pointed towards your faces, before letting you go.

“Ready?” You ask, glancing at your co-host. Hoseok seems less enthusiastic than usual, and you internally cringe, contrition shooting through you at how you’ve managed to dampen his mood because you’ve spent the whole day being distant.

“Ready,” Hoseok says, subdued. Your face crumples and you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to communicate a silent apology for something he isn’t even aware of.

“I won’t abandon you, okay?” You keep your fingers tangled with his as you speak and grip them hard. “There’s a lot of scary stuff in this castle and I promise I won’t leave your side.”

Hoseok pauses but then squeezes your hand back, and he seems to brighten, even though he’s still a little dimmed. “I know,” he says. “I know you won’t.”

Even though he says that, he spends less time clinging onto you than normal. It’s probably not noticeable to the average onlooker, and with how most of the footage is going to be cut later, you’re certain your audience won’t notice either- but while Hoseok still screams and jumps at things, he seems to separate from you as soon as the fear has passed. He doesn’t linger or keep hold of you, even when he seems visibly shaken, eyes wide as you ascend the stairs and hear what sounds like singing even though there’s no one else here- it’s probably just wind whistling through the ancient corridors and walls of the castle, but you know that Hoseok is terrified.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You look over your shoulder and proffer your hand but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He’s clinging onto the banister, both hands white knuckled around the metal railing. “I’m fine.”

Even though you’ve been the one who’s been avoiding touching him all day, it hurts when he says that, as hypocritical as you know you’re being. You draw your hand back to your side and don’t offer again after that, although you still pat him soothingly when he instinctively grabs you later, jumping at a clattering noise in the distance. You’re not easily spooked, but Colchester Castle definitely has some weird vibes, so if you’re feeling like this, Hoseok must feel even more scared than normal.

At one point you walk through a spider web and flinch in surprise when you feel it on your face, jumping backwards and swiping at your face. Hoseok is immediately there, eyes wide as he stares at you, immediately protective despite his fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh, it was just a spider web,” you admit, chagrined. “I overreacted, sorry.”

Hoseok nods and immediately backs off, giving you room as he turns around. You can’t help the hurt that flashes across your face as soon as he looks away.

“Critical mass,” Jimin mutters to Taehyung, who nods sagely.

The worst and weirdest moment of the night actually happens once the episode is over. Hoseok is oddly quiet as you both get ready for bed, not talking to you through the open bathroom door as he meticulously massages cream into his face like he normally does- and once he flicks the light off, plunging the room into blue tinged darkness, you’re stunned as you watch his silhouette slide into his own bed instead of into yours.

He’s never slept in his own bed after a supernatural filming. Even after your first paranormal themed episode together, when you’d still been mostly strangers. He’d been bashful and hesitant despite how obviously scared he was, asking if he could sleep in your bed, and of course you’d said yes, wanting to do anything you could to soothe him and help him feel safe. So the fact he’s not sleeping in your bed now, it’s- it’s- it’s not right.

The only light in the room is from the tiny, faint red numbers of the digital clock, and you watch as time trickles slowly by- you stay awake for what feels like hours, laying on your side as you stare towards Hoseok’s bed. Your eyes adjust to the near darkness, room painted in low-contrast sfumato, and you can see how Hoseok is turned away from you; he’s unnaturally still and silent, and you know he hasn’t fallen asleep either, too scared and wound up to drift off.

Outside, a vehicle rumbles past, and you can see how Hoseok stiffens at the noise of the loose fan belt, a high squeal that’s admittedly startling after the silence of the night. The shine of the headlights through the drawn curtains is muted but still more than enough to throw the room into brief, sharp relief, the tension in Hoseok’s shoulders screaming out to you- you can’t stand it anymore and you slip out from under your blankets so that you can make your way across the dark room.

Hoseok turns when he hears you stumble over something on the floor- you think it’s a pair of socks- and makes a little noise of surprise when you throw back the corner of his duvet so you can slide in next to him.

“Y/n?” He sounds tired, but still fully awake- you were right, he’s been struggling to sleep.

“Hobi,” you say. “Why are you over here, all alone like this?”

You can barely make out the details of his features, as curved towards each other as you are; you can see the faint darkness where his hollows of his eyes are, his pretty mouth nothing more than an undefined line in the muted room.

“I- I didn’t want to disturb you.” His voice is a quiet, unhappy murmur, and you feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone.

“Oh, Hoseok.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks; you can feel the tension in his face, how he must be frowning. You might not be able to see everything all too well, but you’re more than familiar enough with Hoseok’s face to know where the furrow between his brows is, and press a little kiss to it. “My Hobi,” you say, and start to litter kisses over his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. “My baby. My darling.”

You keep touching your lips to his skin, wanting his unhappiness and fear to fade away, whispering pet names between each kiss. You tilt your lips against his chin, and Hoseok makes a little noise before his hands come up to grasp your wrists, pulling them away from where they’re still cupping his jaw. You go still, eyes widening, even if he can’t see it. “Hoseok?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?” He sounds unsure. “You were avoiding me all day- I thought you didn’t want- I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” he says, and you can hear guilt in his voice. “I thought I’d scared you off somehow.”

You make a little, unhappy noise. “No, baby, no,” you say. You shake your head, faces still so close from your kisses that your noses brush, but you don’t pull away- you need him to know that it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” His grip slips away from around your wrists to slide his fingers between yours instead, holding your hands. “Tell me.”

You go still. His tone is so imploring: he wants to know what’s wrong, so he can fix it, make it better. “Hoseok.” Your voice is quiet. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok.”

“And you’re mine,” he says, squeezing your hands. Your heart feels small and feeble in your chest, a weak little thing that swells up at Hoseok’s words, but immediately shrinks again in fear. “You can tell me anything.”

“You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you repeat. Hoseok goes silent. “You’re my best friend, and I-” You take a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs, get some oxygen flowing through your terrified heart, taking bellows to a dying ember, trying to grow it into a flame. “Honestly, I’m just selfish, Hoseok,” you say. “I’m just- being your best friend is already everything to me- but I’m so selfish-”

“Y/n.” Hoseok’s voice is a hush.

“I’m in love with you, Hoseok.”

There. You said it.

You can feel how Hoseok stiffens, how his fingers go utterly still in yours as you continue to speak.

“I’m in love with you, and I was just so scared you’d realise how head over heels I’ve always been for you and you’d end our friendship because everything I feel is just so much, and I just needed space today, I needed space to try and get my head straight and not scare you away by making things weird, and I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I never want to hurt you, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I love you. Please don’t hate me.”

You take in a deep shuddering breath once all the words have spilled out of you, so much air. It’s out in the world, now, and you can’t take it back.

As the seconds tick by, the initial heady rush of terror starts to fade and is instead replaced with resignation, unsurprised at how Hoseok is still frozen against you. He’s deathly silent. He’s probably mentally drafting the nicest way to gently let you down, always so kind and lovely, so wonderful, your Hoseok.

A twinge shoots through your heart as you mentally correct yourself- he’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Your voice is a miserable whisper. “You’re just so easy to love.”

You try to pull your hands out of his so you can slink back to your bed and wallow in your misery, but Hoseok just tightens his grip. You tug again, a little more insistent, and this time he lets go- but before you can roll out of his bed he’s grabbing your face, long, beautiful fingers splaying over your cheeks and jaw, locking you in place as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, low. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re-”

You’re cut off when Hoseok presses his mouth to yours. He’s kissed you before, on your forehead, your cheeks, the bare skin of your shoulder when you wear the sundress he likes so much- but you’ve never felt his heart shaped lips against yours, never felt them soft and warm as they catch your own, and it’s so much. He keeps drawing his mouth across yours, catching your lips between his own, tongue pressing out to swipe across them, and you shiver as the kiss slowly turns slick and wet, even as it stays so tender.

His hands wrap around your waist and he rolls over you, pinning you down with his weight as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. Your hands are in his hair while his cup your face, holding you like you’re something delicate and precious, palms warm against your skin. You don’t separate to breathe, keeping your lips locked as the kisses turn open-mouthed, Hoseok’s tongue gliding against yours, the lingering taste of your shared toothpaste mingling with his saliva- you shiver underneath him when he nips at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you crane your head forward to press further into his mouth, kisses slow and deep, and by the time you finally separate, you feel dizzy and breathless.

“Hobi,” you breathe out. “Hobi, turn the light on, I want to see you.”

Hoseok leans over you to flick on the bedside lamp, illuminating you both with its bright light- you can see how kiss swollen his gorgeous mouth is, how the sheen of your saliva on his flushed lips glows gold from the lamplight, how his hair is a mess from how you’ve been running your hands through it. He looks like your best friend, and also nothing like that at all, something familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Hoseok, forever changed by the touch of your lips.

“My baby.” He’s smiling at you, all warmth and fondness, and you squirm underneath him, embarrassed by the weight of his affection for you. “Y/n. I love you too.”

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Hoseok has just kissed you breathless, but you still feel your heart stutter in your chest. You’re staring up at him with your wide eyes as he bends forward again- he mimics what you did earlier, trailing kisses over your forehead and cheekbones and nose before he kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, then your cupid’s bow, then just under the swell of your bottom lip. “I love you, love you, love you,” he says, punctuating each kiss with the repeated confession, as if each time he says it it’s not punching the air out of your lungs.

“Hoseok?”

“Yes?” He’s still smiling, those warm little creases under his eyes as he looks at you, every inch of him just screaming out happiness. You did that. He’s happy because of you.

“Do you- do you remember when we first met? Years ago?” You don’t want to break the moment, but he’s never mentioned the umbrella thing and you’ve never asked before and you have a burning desire to know if he can recall-

“Do you mean the first time we actually met, or the first time you officially introduced yourself to me? I remember both,” Hoseok says. “I always knew you’d get the job. Besides, if you hadn’t, you would have had to keep the umbrella,” he adds, smile edging into something a little cheeky. “And then there would have been a pretty girl out there thinking about me every time it rained.”

Your eyes widen before you hide your face in your hands, overwhelmed at the idea that Hoseok had thought that you were pretty before he’d even known you; he coos at you and pulls your hands away to reveal your flustered expression, trapping them against the pillow so you can't hide your face again. Hoseok’s smile has faded into something a little more serious, but no less loving, and although you feel open and naked and vulnerable right now, it’s not because you think he’s judging you.

“You never said anything, so I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit. “But from the second you smiled at me as you handed me that umbrella, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Hoseok.”

It’s not often that you see Hoseok look like this, his eyes so serious and deep, but his entire face is still so soft, smiling. “Me, too,” he confesses. “Me too. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and I love you too much to want to give that up.”

The smile that splits your face is so wide it almost hurts. “I love you,” you say again, for the sheer novelty of hearing it out loud, seeing how Hoseok lights up- the fact you can say it without fear of his reaction, because he loves you, too. He loves you. He’s in love with you. “I love you, Hoseok, I-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your words of love into his curved mouth, the two of you smiling and laughing as your lips come together again and again- but when he presses his tongue to your lower lip and you part them, he licks into your mouth in a way that’s almost lewd, warm and wet, and you shiver as you think about exactly how long that tongue is.

Hoseok still has his hands around your wrists from before, and you feel how his grip tightens imperceptibly when he feels you tremble underneath him. Your cheeks feel warm when he pulls back and you wonder if your blush is visible, but Hoseok seems intent on other things, dipping his head forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth for a sharp moment, nipping it before licking it with his hot, wet tongue. Your entire body shudders as he starts to kiss down the side of your jaw, and you tilt your head to give him better access, gasping when he draws his tongue over the oversensitive skin of your neck; you can feel how he smiles against your skin before kissing your throat.

“Hobi,” you breathe, and then gasp when he draws the flat of his tongue over the hollow of your neck. Each teasing touch of his tongue and lips is trickling straight to your core, your panties growing wetter and wetter with your arousal. “Hobi, oh.”

“I’m going to worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped, princess,” he murmurs, lips moving against your collarbones as he speaks. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long." He keeps kissing you between his words, punctuating them with sweeps of his tongue over your skin, and it's so much. "Hold still for me, baby, there you go.”

Hoseok releases your wrists and you flex your fingers but stay in that position, your hands palm up as they rest either side of your head. Hoseok leans back to stare at you underneath him, laid out for his gaze; you’re in an old t-shirt and faded pyjama bottoms, face bare, hair a haphazard mess where it rests against the pillow, but he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re draped in diamonds and gold and silks. He looks at you with reverence and love, like he wants to cherish you- but there’s also something deeper in those half-lidded eyes of his, like he wants to swallow you whole.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You bite your lip, swallowing down a needy noise at the tone of his voice, hands clenching into fists where they rest beside your head.

“Hobi, please,” you say. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He takes one of his hands and slowly pushes the material of your shirt up, dragging his palm over your skin as he reveals the softness of your stomach. He lets the material bunch just under your breasts, ignoring how your nipples have hardened and stand out through the thin cotton of your old tee, running his fingers over your sides; you buck a little underneath him, sucking in a breath at how his touch is almost ticklish. “So sensitive.”

“You haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you say, a little snarky despite your breathlessness, but then you’re cut off when Hobi’s hands slide under the t-shirt to cup your breasts, palms and fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your pussy clenches when he flicks his thumbs over each of your hardened buds, running the pads of his fingertips over them, and you arch into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he says again, a little smile behind his words as he watches how your chest rises and falls under his hands, sucking in air when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Like it when you touch me,” you sigh. Hoseok smiles, flashing his teeth at you before leaning forward to kiss you again. He coaxes you to lift up a little so he can pull off your shirt, smoothing your hair when it gets ruffled by the motion, but before you can smile up at him for his tenderness, he lowers the heat of his mouth over one of your nipples and you gasp.

One of your hands flies up to grasp his hair when he circles the bud with his tongue, and you let out a low moan as he continues to lave attention on it, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the sensitive flesh. He alternates between your breasts, using his hands and fingers on whichever he’s not suckling between his lips; goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you keep biting back whines and gasps each time he does something particularly wicked with his mouth.

You feel so, so wet, arousal pooling between your legs, and you need him to touch you there. But he's slow, taking his time until your chest is heaving and your skin is flushed and your nipples are slick from the wetness of his mouth, his fingers just the right side of rough whenever he pinches the hardened peaks, and you mewl beneath him.

You’re just about to beg Hoseok to give you more when he finally lifts his mouth from your nipple, and you go tense as he starts to trail his lips down the valley of your breasts, across the sensitive skin of your stomach, hands roaming over the rest of you; he slides down the bed until he’s resting between your legs, and all you can think about is how close his mouth is to where you want it to be.

You’re so wet that you’ve soaked right through your panties, a touch of dampness clinging to the flimsy material of your pyjama bottoms too, and you shiver at the way Hoseok seems to drink down the sight before he hooks his fingers into the loose elastic waistband, and starts to inch them down. He’s moving torturously slowly, kissing your bare legs as he reveals your skin, touching his lips to your thighs, your calves, your ankles.

He does the same again with your panties, even more slowly; palms sliding up the side of your legs so he can curl his fingers around the fabric of your underwear and peel it off you. You shiver when your pussy is finally revealed, your inner thighs slick with your arousal and cooling from the touch of the air- Hoseok continues to suck and kiss trails across your legs even as he stares at your naked, weeping core, his gaze heavy as he drinks down the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, running his fingers over your bare skin as you tremble beneath him. “So gorgeous and perfect. Look at you, all laid out, just for me. I love you.”

“Hoseok,” you whimper. He’s still entirely clothed while you’re naked and bare, and you feel utterly debauched in comparison to him, the sheen of his saliva still shining over your body, nipples hard, your pussy lips flushed from arousal, every part of you begging for more- meanwhile he’s still got his surprisingly cute matching pyjama set on. The contrast is making your dizzy. He cups your foot in one of his hands, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner ankle, and your toes curl. “Please, baby, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs. He drops one last kiss to your ankle before shifting towards your canting hips; his breath curls out over your core and you shudder, another flood of arousal shooting through you, your cunt clenching as Hoseok stares at it shamelessly. “Look at you,” he says, reverent. “So pretty and wet for me.”

“Hobi,” you whine. You bite back a gasp as he hooks your fingers behind your knees and forces your legs apart, spreading you open, entirely helpless underneath his hungry gaze. You watch in wonder as he lets his tongue curl out of his mouth, looking sinfully dirty as he does- but then you let out a whine when he turns his head away from your pussy and licks the inner seam of your thigh instead. Your hips jump at the sensation, your skin so sensitive from the attention that he’s lavishing on you, but it’s not where you want his mouth to be, even if the lingering kisses he’s giving to your inner thighs feel good. “Hoseok, please.”

He hums indulgently, and you’re about to start begging again when he purses his lips and blows out a puff of air over your flushed lower lips; the sudden chill against your damp folds has you tensing, and before you can gather your wits Hoseok drags his hot, wet tongue up the seam of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You cry out from the sudden explosion of sensation when he repeats the motion but presses past your lower lips to tongue at your slit, lapping up the juices at your entrance before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, your spine arching as your hips buck. “Oh, God, Hoseok, yes, right there.”

He slides one of his arms over your stomach, trapping you, holding you down as you try to cant your hips towards his mouth. You sob with pleasure as he continues to drink down your juices, leisurely licking at the most sensitive parts of you, in no rush at all. “Hobi, please,” you beg. “Please, I need more.”

Hoseok turns his head to lightly bite your inner thigh, your leg twitching at the sensation, surprised at how pleasurable it is. “Ssh,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. I want to savour it,” he says, and you let out a whine when he dips his head back down and starts to lap at your clit again, his dark eyes watching each of your reactions, the way you writhe and curl your toes each time he dips back down to your entrance, pressing his tongue inside you. “You taste so good, baby. Your pretty little cunt is so perfect.”

You whine at the praise, writhing when each swipe of his tongue over you is fanning the flames of your arousal higher and higher, and you can feel how the coil inside you is tightening, so close to reaching your peak. Hoseok’s still eating you out, nice and slow, and you’ve never felt an orgasm creep up on you like this- you moan as Hoseok finally buries his face in your pussy, tongue sliding from your slit, to your clit, over and over.

It’s so, so good, and then you watch as he slides one of his long fingers inside you and curls it inside you just right- “I’m gonna cum, Hoseok, I’m- oh!”

The intensity of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, exploding from deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl as you cum and cum and cum, Hoseok keeping his mouth on you the whole time, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over you, wetness flooding out of your cunt that he drinks down eagerly.

The build up was slow, and the come down is slow, too, aftershocks rippling through your body for longer than any orgasm you’ve had before, and Hoseok keeps licking and sucking you through it all until you’re almost crying out from the overstimulation and you have to push his head away. The aftershocks are still rippling through your body as Hoseok rises, your pussy clenching each time, and you feel boneless and strung out- but you know Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he says. You reach out for him and he comes so easily, fitting himself between your arms. His lips and chin shine with evidence of your arousal and when you pull him in for a kiss you can taste yourself across his tongue, a noise bubbling up at the back of your throat when you feel how slick his lips are against yours.

“Wanna make you cum too,” you say, your voice weak after the strength of that orgasm; you take in a deep breath, willing the oxygen to bring some energy back into your body. “Baby. Hoseok.”

“Mm.” He kisses you again. “You will, baby, don’t worry, you’re always so good for me.”

Your fingers fumble when you try to unbutton his shirt, but when Hoseok laughs, it’s not patronising at all; he just sounds fond. He takes over, deft fingers making quick work of the shirt before he throws it aside, revealing the slim line of his body to you. He’s beautiful and lean, nipples dark, skin golden, with a dark trail of hair that dips down into his pyjama bottoms- your eyes zero in on the way Hoseok’s loose pyjamas do nothing to hide his erection, the hard strain of his cock against the fabric, and you let out a little sigh of happiness that you’re finally getting to see what you’ve been desperately staring at all day. When you reach out for him your fingers barely brush his skin, and you make a greedy little noise, hungry for more.

“Need you,” you say. You want Hobi inside you, splitting you open, as close to each other as you can physically be. “Clothes off now.”

Hobi lets out a loud laugh, and you melt at the utter joy in the sound, how his face is so open and bright.

“God, I love you,” he says, before unceremoniously shedding the offending garments. He wiggles his hips in an entirely unsexy manner, and you end up laughing too when he gets one of his legs caught and has to kick the pyjama bottoms off in an entirely graceless way. You’re still letting out quiet giggles even as Hoseok is finally bare in front of you, beautiful and unabashed in his nakedness, and you love him.

You feel like liquid sunlight, overflowing with happiness; you’ve never laughed like this with anyone before, both naked yet still somehow amused, flipping from all-consuming arousal one second to laughter the next, but it just feels natural. Because it’s Hoseok, and everything feels so easy with him.

“I love you too,” you say, and then, when your eyes drop to his cock, you say: “God, you’re beautiful.”

His cock is gorgeous, curving up towards the ceiling, a drop of precum beaded at the tip; it’s not completely straight, hanging just a little to the left, but it’s Hoseok, so it’s perfect. He wraps his fingers around your hips and you let out a little squeal when he tugs you down the bed towards him so that your legs are dangling off the side and your hips are practically flush; his cock bobs when he moves and you shiver with how close it is to your heated core. Just like the rest of him, it’s long and lean and gorgeous, and you can’t wait to have it inside you. Although-

“Don’t I get to taste you?” You can’t help but say this with a pout, and Hoseok’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Next time, baby,” he promises. “Tonight is for you.”

Next time. The realisation that tonight is just one of many, just the start of an entirely new chapter in your life with Hoseok- that you’ll still be friends, best friends, but also more- settles inside you, warm and soft and safe. Your face creases into a smile and you slide your hands up Hoseok’s body, over his stomach and chest, touching all the skin you can, relishing in the fact that you’ll grow familiar with it all in a way that you never could have dreamed of.

“You’re always so good to me,” you say.

“You deserve it, princess,” he replies. You tilt your hips towards him and you see how his eyes darken at the motion, tenderness swallowed by lust, and your body lights up like a livewire in preparation, ready to feel him push inside you. You’re already loose and wet from your first orgasm, but you don’t protest when Hoseok starts to run his fingers over the seam of your thigh; he presses straight in with two fingers, your body opening up for him so easily, and you gasp at how deep they move inside you, so long and pretty.

“There, Hobi, right there.” He’s clearly not trying to bring you to orgasm again but he still listens to your directions, keeping the motions of his hands the same, fingers rubbing over your inner walls so perfectly.

You can hear it, noises slick and dirty before he pulls them out, and you watch as he uses your arousal to slick up his cock, rubbing your juices over his hard length. It’s lewd, how he does it, pumping himself as he spreads it over his cock, wet noises vulgar and obscene, shooting straight to your core; you don’t think you’ve ever seen or heard anything so arousing in your life, the way Hoseok has his lip caught between his teeth as he looks at you, cock stiff between his legs as he runs his fingers over it.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper. “Hoseok, fuck.”

You arch your back when he grips his cock in one hand, guiding himself towards you- but rather than pressing into your entrance he runs his throbbing length back and forth through your lips, gathering even more of the wetness there, the slide so easy and smooth. It’s the most delicious, glancing pressure against your clit, not enough to satisfy, but enough to have you gasping again, the way you can feel the silken heat of his cock against you.

“Hoseok, please.” You don’t attempt to hide the desperation in your voice. “I need you.”

Hoseok lets out a guttural groan at your words; he drinks in how blown your pupils are, the flush from your orgasm still visible over your chest, the way your fingers are clutching the bedsheets, white cotton tangled in your grasp. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, and finally, finally, he grasps his length and tilts it to your entrance. He rests there for a second, the tip barely touching you, and you see how he steels himself as he grasps your hips, before he starts to sink into you.

“Oh!” He fills you so well, inch by torturous inch, your body opening up for him so easily it’s like his cock was made to fill you; once he bottoms out you can feel how snug he is inside you, cockhead pressed against your cervix, and you shiver. “Oh, yes, Hoseok, so good.”

He stays still for one long, drawn out moment, before his hands slip off your waist and he reaches for yours. You entwine your fingers with his, staring up at him as he leans forward and kisses you; the motion has his cock shifting inside you and you whine a little against his lips, before biting off a gasp when he rocks his hips forwards. The motion is fluid and rolling, and Hoseok sets an unhurried pace, languidly filling you up with his cock, over and over and over.

The pleasure that’s growing in you is slow and relaxed. You’re not chasing your orgasms- you’re revelling in the closeness, the connection, the slip of skin against skin, how Hoseok is filling you up, how you’re drawing him in. You end up staring into each other’s eyes, Hoseok’s forehead pressed to yours so there’s nothing in your vision but him; you only break eye contact when one particularly deep roll of his hips sends a shudder through you, your eyes squeezing shut as you gasp.

“Feel so good, baby,” Hoseok murmurs. “So good for me.”

You make a noise of confusion when he lets go of your fingers and leans back, straightening up, but then he hooks his hands under your knees and you lift your hips; you drape your legs over his shoulders, arched towards him, lower body lifting off the mattress. Hoseok drives forward and you immediately gasp at how he hits your sweet spot straight on, the change of angle forcing the head of his cock to brush the top of your inner walls, each drag of the blunt head sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock, princess,” Hoseok says, and you shudder. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Hobi, yes- faster- oh-”

Hoseok starts to ramp up the pace, snapping his hips into yours with the sound of slapping skin, and you can feel how you’re starting to tighten around him, pussy clenching with each thrust of his hot cock inside you. “Gonna cum for you, Hobi,” you say. “So close, fuck.”

He takes one of his hands off your waist and slides three fingers over your clit, and you cry out with pleasure as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves in tight circles; the added stimulation is just what you need, and you tumble over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Hoseok moans when he feels how your cunt clenches around him, rippling tightness around his cock, and your eyes fall shut as your mouth falls open and you rock your hips into the sensation, grinding against Hoseok to prolong the pleasure, and he continues to snap his hips forward.

You go lax, almost limp, but Hoseok is still hard inside you, so you try your best to keep your back arched towards him; the fluid roll of his thrusts is starting to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his own peak, and although your pussy is crying out at the oversensitivity, you try to match his pace, canting your hips towards Hoseok each time he drives forward.

“Want your cum all over me, Hobi,” you say. “Want you to cum on my tits-”

Hoseok curses, composure slipping entirely for the first time all night, and you feel how he fumbles his rhythm before he catches himself. His thrusts are fast and choppy before he pulls out and drops your hips to the mattress; you whine at the sudden emptiness, but then he’s shuffling his knees onto the bed and he has his hand wrapped around his slick length, jerking himself hard and fast as you arch your back and push your chest towards him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says through gritted teeth. “So pretty, baby- fuck!”

He gasps in air before he lets out one long, drawn out moan, and then there’s hot cum splattering across your breasts, whiteness painting itself across your skin. Hoseok continues to pump himself, cock letting out more ropes of cum, and you can’t help but let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight, lifting your hands to run over his hip bones and waist and flexing thighs, watching the way Hoseok’s face draws together as he rides out his own orgasm, until his hand falls away from his cock and he’s slumping forwards over you, panting.

You hum, reaching for him and pulling him down so you can brush your lips against his. “You’re so hot when you cum,” you say. “I could watch you cum all day.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless laugh before he kisses you again, properly this time- you’re content to keep kissing regardless of the cum that’s starting to cool on your chest, but Hoseok is insistent on being a gentleman and excuses himself to the bathroom to get a towel so he can clean you up. When he drags the damp towel over your skin, he’s so soft and gentle, although you still shiver a little when the rough fabric drags over your nipples; he bends down and kisses you in apology.

You feel warm and small and soft, watching as Hoseok walks around the bed, still naked; the paltry lamp light is still more than enough for you to see every line of his beauty, the way each of his muscles shifts under his skin as he walks and moves, bending over to gather some of the discarded clothes from the floor. You sit up and lift your arms so he can help you back into your thin t-shirt, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him with a firm press of your lips, before he shimmies back into his boxers, though you personally don’t think he needs them.

When you finally settle down for the night you both curled up on your bed- because Hoseok’s is rumpled and sweaty from your previous exertions- and nestle up gratefully under the sheets, warm from the weight of the duvet and Hoseok spooning you from behind.

“I love you,” he murmurs, nosing at the side of your neck.

“I love you too,” you reply, and then end up giggling a little, stomach jumping under Hoseok’s hand. “I need to buy Namjoon a thank you slash apology gift when we get home, you know,” you say thoughtfully. “He had to put up with me having a meltdown about you, and it turns out he was right.”

Hoseok brushes his nose over your ear. “Jin kept making pretty blasé comments to me about us,” he tells you. “But he does that about most things, so.”

You hum lightly before pressing back further against Hoseok, who tightens his hold around you in response. “I guess they knew before we did,” you say. “We’ve been acting like a couple for a long time, to be fair.” Thinking back on it, it was pretty obvious, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

The next morning, as always, you wake before Hoseok- and this time when you feel the hardness pressed into your ass, you don’t panic. You do what you always do and slide carefully out of Hoseok’s arms, but unlike every other morning, he doesn’t wake up to an empty bed. Instead, he wakes up with a small gasp to the sight of you with your mouth around his cock, your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him; you work him up while he’s still half-asleep and slow, swallowing down his cock until he cums down your throat. You litter kisses over his hips and thighs, smiling into his skin as he comes down from his peak, his pupils blown.

“Morning, Hobi,” you say, kissing the divot below his hip bones. “I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, voice still a rasp from his sleep, eyes hungry as he reaches for you.

When the two of you eventually stumble downstairs for breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung are already there; you’re much later than normal but neither of the boys seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, Taehyung asking Hoseok to pass the pepper mill as soon as you’ve sat down.

Taehyung is enthusiastically grinding pepper over his bacon and eggs when Jimin pipes up. “You know, the ghosts in this B&B apparently like to watch the guests while they try to sleep and make noises to keep them up,” he says conversationally. “You didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary in your room, did you? Taehyung and I could have sworn that we heard moaning or something at some point, but I think it must have been a trick of our minds.”

You and Hoseok exchange a quick glance. “Uh, nope, can’t say that we did,” you say, and Hoseok nods emphatically in agreement.

Jimin pauses. He squints at you, before turning to Taehyung and pulling the pepper mill out of his hands to get his attention. “I told you it was going to happen soon,” Jimin says. “They finally hit critical mass and confessed. I knew that moaning wasn’t from ghosts.”

“And there’s no mess to clean up, even if we didn’t win the betting pool.” Taehyung sounds pleased. “Can you pass the salt now please?”

You watch incredulously as both boys continue their business as usual, Taehyung swapping the pepper mill for the salt grinder while Jimin opens a tiny jar of raspberry jam for his toast.

You turn to Hoseok, scandalised at the idea that a) your friends/co-workers heard you last night and b) there’s apparently some sort of office bet about your relationship with Hoseok, only to find that the man in question has a look of alarm on his face.

“Do you think the ghosts were watching us last night?” He has an expression that’s a mix of affronted and also scared. “That’s dirty.”

“No, baby, I don’t think we had ghostly voyeurs in our room,” you say, stroking Hoseok’s hand with reassuring fingers, before you frown and look back at the other two boys. “I hate our friends. You have a betting pool?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Taehyung says. “I’m not sure who’s won the money, I’d have to check the spreadsheet when we get back home.”

“I bet Jin was the one who came up with it, wasn’t he?” Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, but neither of them say anything, which is more than enough to answer your question. “I’m going to shove a wedge of parmesan down his throat when we get home and see how he likes it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok says.

“I love you too,” you reply, turning your head to accept the kiss he gives you.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin says.

“Why parmesan?” Taehyung asks, before twisting the salt grinder with enough gusto that he pulls the bottom off and salt goes cascading over his breakfast. “Oh, oops. Do you think they’ll let me have more eggs?”

Your thank you/apology gift to Namjoon is a tin of Scottish shortbread that you find in a cute tourist shop, although when you find out he’s actually the proud winner of 50% of the betting pool, you take the shortbread back for yourself and Hoseok instead.

When Yoongi arrives at his desk to the sight of you sitting in Hoseok’s lap and feeding him between kisses, he just rolls his eyes, mutters ‘finally’, and makes no further comments. You laugh into Hoseok’s mouth and allow Jungkook to steal a piece of shortbread on his way past, too busy kissing your boyfriend to care.

“You can have the last bit of shortbread,” you say, and Hoseok grins up at you.

“You’re just saying that because I ate you out this morning,” he says, and you giggle.

“I can’t believe you just made me listen to that with my own two ears. I’m in hell.” Yoongi sounds so tired. “I think I preferred it when the two of you were dancing around each other. Go back to doing that.”

“No can do, Yoongles,” you sing-song. “I love Hoseok and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok says, looking up at you with bright eyes, and you giggle before dipping down to kiss him again.

“Everyone else knew before you did,” Yoongi mutters, but neither of you pay him any mind.

#jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jhope fluff #hoseok fluff #bts #jhope #jung hoseok #joy.masterlist

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Transcript Lingthusiasm Episode 59: Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Theory of Mind

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 59: Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Theory of Mind. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 59 show notes page.

[Music]

Gretchen: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Gretchen McCulloch.

Lauren: I’m Lauren Gawne. Today we’re getting enthusiastic about whether you’re getting enthusiastic about theory of mind. But first, our most recent bonus episode is on translation in fiction – mostly translating between human languages and non-human languages but all kinds of translation.

Gretchen: You can get access to this translation episode about some books we’ve been reading recently and 50 other bonus episodes by becoming a patron at patreon.com/lingthusiasm. Here’s a bit of a preview into the books we talked about.

Lauren: We talked about Semiosis by Sue Burke, and A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine, as well as The Devil Comes Courting by Courtney Milan. And, Gretchen, you have read Native Tongue by Suzette Haden Elgin.

Gretchen: I have finally gotten around to reading Native Tongue, which has been much recommended to me.

Lauren: A classic piece of linguistic sci-fi.

Gretchen: You don’t have to have read any of these books beforehand. We don’t provide plot spoilers, although we’ll talk about some of the things in the setting. It’s fun whether you’ve read any of them or not at all. You might end up with some new things to read.

Lauren: You can get access to that episode and all of our bonus episodes at patreon.com/lingthusiasm.

[Music]

Lauren: Gretchen, I’m gonna run an experiment on you.

Gretchen: Okay, I like experiments.

Lauren: Excellent. This one involves a lot of a set up, but it’s great because you can do it. If you are listening along, you can also do the experiment along with us.

Gretchen: Great! What’s our set up?

Lauren: We have Sally and Anne.

Gretchen: Okay.

Lauren: Sally has a basket. Anne has a box. Sally has a marble – Sally with the basket – and she puts her marble into the basket. Then she goes out for a walk. Sally’s not here. But we’ve got a basket with a marble in it.

Gretchen: Sally’s not here. We’ve got her basket with the marble in it. Okay.

Lauren: We’ve got a box, and Anne is still there. Anne takes the marble out of the basket and puts it in the box.

Gretchen: So, now we’ve got a marble in a box.

Lauren: We’ve got the marble in the box. Sally comes back, and Sally wants to play with the marble. Where is Sally going to go to get her marble?

Gretchen: I’m going to deduce – based on the fact that when Sally left the room, she left the marble in the basket – she probably still thinks the marble is in the basket because she’d have no reason to assume that things would’ve changed, and so she’s gonna try the basket first because she doesn’t know that Anne has moved it.

Lauren: That is a perfectly reasonable deduction to make. You are a veritable Sherlock Holmes.

Gretchen: Thank you. Did I pass the test?

Lauren: You did. You completed what is known as the “theory of mind test” because you kept track of what you knew about the situation and what Sally knew about the situation and all the sneakiness that Anne had perpetrated with the marble.

Gretchen: But presumably at some period earlier in my life, when I was a very young child, I might not have passed this test.

Lauren: The ability to correctly articulate what you know about Sally’s likely chances of going to the basket or the box really doesn’t settle into being reliable until 3 or 4 years old – actually being able to articulate what you know about the state of other people’s thinking.

Gretchen: Which feels kind of late because 2-year-olds, 3-year-olds already have quite a bit of language in most cases, and yet this later reasoning about mental states and what different people know about different things comes along later.

Lauren: That’s what the theory of mind test seems to indicate. It is a bit more complex than this. This is something that was run for the first time 30 or 40 years ago. There’s been more work that’s tried to do versions that don’t involve language; they just involve looking. They show that toddlers, 15 months old, are actually maybe better at paying attention to the fact that the marble is in one place or another and what Sally might know a little bit better than they can articulate. It’s something about being able to put it into words that seems to be one of the challenges that takes until, as you say, well into language acquisition to be able to do this task consistently.

Gretchen: This task feels like something that some experimenter set up in a lab, and maybe they had puppets, or maybe they had two different experimenters, and these props feel very psychology-experiment-prop style to me.

Lauren: What do we have in the props department, yeah.

Gretchen: It’s funny. I was reading a different paper about these types of experiments, and there are other ways you can test for theory of mind. One of my either favourite or least favourite, depending on this, is – oh, shall I do it on you?

Lauren: Okay, yes.

Gretchen: I have a box. It’s a small cardboard box. The outside says “Kinder Chocolate Bars” – chocolate things.

Lauren: Great. I’m very compelled by this box.

Gretchen: We have our friend Gavagai, who is also in the room and sees this box with the chocolates on it. Gavagai is called out, suddenly, to leave to go do something else.

Lauren: Bye, Gav.

Gretchen: I open this box, and I show you that inside is not, in fact, chocolates, but it is pencils – coloured pencils.

Lauren: Okay, I was gonna say that’s a bit of a disappointment, but it’s something of a disappointment to me.

Gretchen: They’re coloured pencils, which is something more exciting than graphite pencils. But still, they’re not chocolates. Then I close the box up again, and it looks like it’s closed. Then our friend Gav comes back in the room.

Lauren: Hi, Gav.

Gretchen: What does Gav think is in the box?

Lauren: Well, I know that it’s pencils. But Gav wasn’t here when I saw that it was pencils. Gav still thinks it’s chocolates, and boy, are they in for a disappointment.

Gretchen: Yes, they are. You can do this about location of item, which is the Sally-Anne test, which is about location, or you can do it about identity of item – what’s in it.

Lauren: I have a colleague who’s done the theory of mind task with little stones instead of a marble, but then there’s a whole other twist where the stones end up being those little nuggets of chocolate that look like stones. I just feel like I would be confused by that point about who knows what about the state or location of this rock chocolate situation.

Gretchen: I remember I loved those stones as a child because it felt like you were gonna break a tooth on them, and then you would eat them.

Lauren: You could definitely do some fun false belief with someone about me eating dirt.

Gretchen: There’s also a fun one in this study where they found – and I don’t know where they got this object because I have not seen an object like this – they have this little toy that looks like a race car, like one of those cars that you “vroom vroom” on the table. But it turns out when you press a button on it, it turns into a pen. A pen-thing pops out. They’re trying to see does this person think it’s a race car, do they think it’s a pen. Somebody’s really going around in toy shops being like, “Okay, what here could be deceptive?”

Lauren: Keeping track of people’s knowledge states, as we’ve said, is something that takes a little bit of effort. Not all animals can necessarily do it. In fact, when we find animals that are really good at this, people get really excited. There are animals that are closely related to humans, like chimps seem pretty good at this. You can basically do a version of the location of an object thing, and the chimps are all over it. Also, ravens are really good at conceptualising where someone might be and what they might be doing. It’s one of those skills that isn’t just like – well, first of all, you get theory of mind and a bunch of other things, and then you get language. It’s not just an ingredient in the language cake. It’s just one of many skills that humans and animals closely related to humans seem to have but also is scattered throughout the animal kingdom.

Gretchen: Corvids are pretty smart, I guess. They can recognise people, so maybe they can also – if you feed them, they’ll become your friends.

Lauren: We’ve run a very classic theory of mind experiment at the top of this episode, but as we suggested, people have been pulling apart exactly what theory of mind is and how different people do different elements of it. It seems to be this complicated cluster of features around attention, attention-tracking, false belief, mental states, and being able to do all of this is part of being able to do the social element of language.

Gretchen: Because when you’re talking about language, you’re describing what other people have done. You’re thinking like, “Okay, why did this person behave this weird way this time?”, or “Why did this person do this thing to me?”, “Why can’t I get this?” You’re trying to figure out, well, it’s because this other person wants this thing even though that’s not what I want. Or it’s because this other person knows this thing even though it’s not what I know.

Lauren: Even just the process of asking a question, like, using language to interact with someone to try and get to an end goal and whether or not they are likely to have the right information that I need to get this question answered. Theory of mind is the having really good foundations on the house of language, and it’s part of why I’m always very zen when people talk about computers taking over the ability to do language. It’s like, well, first of all, a computer has to be able to keep track of their best guess of the knowledge state of everyone else in the interaction, and that’s not necessarily the same kind of programming task as figuring out sounds or morphemes or syntactic structures.

Gretchen: It’s interesting because it is a theory – not like the theory of gravity where scientists have hypothesised that minds might exist – but in the sense that, whenever we’re interacting with the world, we’re hypothesising that the people around us have intention behind what they’re doing, and they’re doing stuff for reasons. I have to hypothesise that you, Lauren, have a mind because I don’t actually have direct evidence that you have a mind. Maybe you have actually been Lauren-bot this entire time!

Lauren: True, true. I am operating under the same premise. I have my own theory. It’s not a shared theory, necessarily. We all have this internal idea that the people we’re interacting with in conversation are also doing the same mental calculation that we are.

Gretchen: I remember having this realisation that people have other mental states, and maybe they conceive of the world dramatically differently from how I do. Maybe this thing that I see that I call “red” isn’t actually what someone else is seeing even though they also call it “red.” I remember having this philosophical realisation when I was about 12 or so, and thinking, “How do we know anything that we’re seeing things.” And yet, even though I don’t have empirical evidence that you aren’t just an extremely sophisticated automaton – I mean, I do have a lot of empirical evidence, actually, because automatons aren’t that good yet – but we still manage to interact with people. We still manage to operate under a working theory that people do have minds and they are interactable with.

Lauren: People have drawn a link between this kind of cognitive foundation and the need for language by looking at the way early human ancestors learnt to socialise with each other. Instead of having small packs of humans, you ended up getting these larger and larger groups. Once you have these larger groups, you have to have some way of maintaining social cohesion that’s not just small-group dominance. Robin Dunbar is probably one the most famous proponents of this idea that language is a way of maintaining social cohesion and that you can keep a happy social relationship with more people essentially through gossip – gossip being one of the mechanisms that helped generate the need for language.

Gretchen: I mean, it’s useful to know can you trust this person because they were trustworthy last time or have they been going around and doing things that are not trustworthy or is this someone that someone else is willing to vouch for. There’s lots of reasons why language can help with cooperation.

Lauren: In the absence of being able to time travel, I quite like this theory of one of the ways that humans came to use language.

Gretchen: I’ve actually been thinking about Robin Dunbar’s theories for a different reason. Because he has this very famous 150-size social group number, which is the size of a lot of villages or small communities or small companies or small conferences. It’s the magic number for that kind of community. But also, there’s this other number that Dunbar and colleagues have also researched, which is four. That’s the number of people that conversations tend to max out at before they start splitting into smaller conversations.

Lauren: Ah, this makes a lot of sense when I think about small group chat at parties and the ebb and flow of when people join or leave conversations. I think that must also explain why trying to have all of your friends in one big video chat room at an online party is really stressful.

Gretchen: Exactly. This also shows up in fiction. It shows up in plays. It shows up in movies that people tend to max out at four conversation participants. The reason for this has to do with theory of mind, which is that we find it too cognitively exhausting to keep track of the mental states of too many people.

Lauren: In a specific conversation.

Gretchen: At once, yeah.

Lauren: So, I can vaguely keep track of, like, 200, 150 people in my social village, but in terms of the moment-to-moment what-do-you-know-about-the-story-I’m-telling, three or four people is enough for me to keep track of.

Gretchen: There’s a really interesting test of this which is that Dunbar and colleagues did an experiment where they asked people to talk about an absent third party and speculate about that absent third party’s mental states. When people were instructed to use that for their conversation, they tended to form one smaller conversational grouping, so maximum of three instead of maximum of four, when they were just asked to talk about what the absent third parties were doing but not what they were thinking.

Lauren: I’m deeply fascinated by – this is experiment is “Please come into this lab and gossip.”

Gretchen: Right. I don’t remember exactly how they set it up, but yeah, something about the maximum number of mental states that you can conceive of without getting too tired is around five, but that means four people because you’re also keeping track of, like, between you and me, we have three mental states. I’m thinking about me, I’m thinking about you, and then I’m also thinking about what you’re thinking about me.

Lauren: This is why the language that we use to talk about internal mental states does particularly interesting things in grammar. You begin to see theory of mind affect the way that we do grammar because verbs that express internal mental states act a bit differently to other verbs.

Gretchen: English actually has this interesting grammatical distinction between how we talk about mental state verbs versus action verbs in the present tense. We say something like, “I know,” “I like,” “I understand,” “I enjoy,” “I fear,” but for action verbs, we’re more likely to say something like, “I am running,” “I am walking,” “I am talking.”

Lauren: Oh, yeah, “I walk,” implies an “I walk every day” habit thing.

Gretchen: Right. Whereas “I know” doesn’t imply “I know every day.” There’s just this subtle distinction between how we talk about verbs in the present. In the past, we don’t do this. You can say “I liked” and “I walked,” and that’s the same, but in the present, we have this interesting distinction that’s made in English that isn’t necessarily made in other languages.

Lauren: That only really works for first person in English. It’s a bit weird to say this about other people, especially the person who you’re talking to.

Gretchen: It’s another thing that’s weird about verbs about mental states where it’s sort of weird for me to be like, “Lauren, you like cake.” I mean, I guess –

Lauren: I mean, you definitely have enough evidence to support that as a viable statement. I think in the context of us interacting, it would be fine, but it would very weird to say it to someone who you didn’t have that knowledge for.

Gretchen: If I just go up to someone in a coffee shop who’s eating cake and say, “You like cake,” it’d be like, “Excuse me, but who invited your opinion here?”

Lauren: I think this is one of the things I’ve had to learn in teaching over the years is it’s very easy for me to be like, “Well, you know this because we covered it in class last week.” I just assume that everything we covered in class is completely absorbed into your knowledge state.

Gretchen: You mean your students don’t have perfect downloads of every single, you know, audio file of your voice?

Lauren: In much the same way that we don’t assume that people have absorbed every single fact from Lingthusiasm when we bring them up a couple of years later.

Gretchen: Absolutely. You don’t retain this. It’s easy to be like, “I’ve told you once,” and like, “Yeah, that was years ago, I don’t remember everything that happened to me years ago.”

Lauren: It’s why you end up finding a lot of question forms for second person in verb paradigms when you’re trying to do this elicitation because it’s much more comfortable for people to reframe what you’ve said as a question.

Gretchen: I think when we’re used to doing this decontextualised form of grammar as linguists, we’re like, “Oh, yeah, okay, I can make a verb paradigm: I like; you like; he/she likes; we like; you-plural like; they like.” Yeah, fine, I can just make this little paradigm for me. But the social context in which you would use each of these forms is actually really different.

Lauren: I mean, now that we’ve said that I can definitely think of contexts where it would be fine to say it in English with a direct “You like” or “You know.” I think there’re definitely where it would be safe to say it to a child that you are very close to like, “I know you like toast. We ate toast for breakfast yesterday.” Lo and behold, they like toast. They just need to be reminded of that.

Gretchen: But even there you were like, “I know you like toast,” which is sort of not quite as committed to the statement as “You like toast.” Or if you wanna say to a dog or something like, “You want your dinner? Yes, I know you want your dinner. You’re gonna have your dinner. Here we go.” But it’s, I think, to say to an adult – I mean, maybe if I walk in on you in your office, and I’m like, “Oh, you’re busy. I’ll come back later.” Or like, “Oh, you’re reading. You’re on the phone. I’ll come back later.” There’re certainly contexts in which you could do it, but you have to do a lot more contextual set up.

Lauren: I love how much set up you had to do to get to that as a valid way of using an internal state verb directly at someone.

Gretchen: Whereas if I say, “Yeah, I know. I like cake.” This doesn’t require any set up. This is just the unmarked thing to do.

Lauren: This is why we separate out these verbs about internal mental states or “psych verbs” as they’re sometimes called and look at them separately to other verbs in English. Because talking about someone else’s mental state changes the way that we can use them in grammar.

Gretchen: Some psych verbs come in pairs. You can say “I like cake” or “Cake pleases me.” Or “I fear dogs,” “Dogs frighten me.” In both cases, you’re having the same relationship between the two entities, but the verb flips, which you don’t always see with actions. Sometimes you see it with actions like “I buy this from you,” “You sell it to me.” But it seems to be one of the things that happens with internal mental state verbs.

Lauren: They also tend to have more variation across languages and across cultures as to how you can use them.

Gretchen: Yeah. There’s a really interesting and subtle example of this in English and Spanish where in English it’s less common to say something like “You understand” with the meaning of “I infer you understand based on the evidence of you seeming to understand.” Whereas in Spanish, you have a verb that seems like it should correspond to English “understand,” but it is reasonable to use that verb to mean “I infer you understand because you’re asking really good questions” or “I infer you understand because you are making noises of comprehension and you’re nodding and so on.” It’s reasonable to say to someone “You understand” with the meaning, like, “It seems to me that you understand” or “I observe you to be understanding.”

Lauren: That is a subtle but important meaning distinction, I feel.

Gretchen: I heard this anecdote from a linguist who – I don’t remember which linguist anymore – who said that they’d told this to somebody – an English speaker and a Spanish speaker who were in a marriage together – and they both spoke each other’s languages, but they didn’t have an understanding that this was actually a pragmatic difference between them. Sometimes, they would get in fights by like, “What do you mean you say I understand? You don’t know what’s going on in my internal mental state. You’re just assuming what I know.” Which was actually a systematic pragmatic difference in how the languages use those particular mental state verbs rather than a case of just not understanding between the partners.

Lauren: That is amazing. The thing I find really interesting about that anecdote is that the distinction between the two forms of “understand” was really implicit between the two languages. I’m really interested in those grammatical features where knowledge state becomes very overt. That’s essentially what motivated me to study how we grammatically track source of information, which is the area of evidentiality. We had a whole episode on that that I will not assume you’ve listened to, and I will not assume you remember anything from, but essentially, evidentiality is used to keep track of, depending on the language, whether you know something because you saw it or because someone else told you about it or maybe you’re not entirely certain about it. This is marked as a feature of the grammar rather just being implicit or optional.

Gretchen: In English, you have the option of saying something like, “It’s raining,” “I can see that it’s raining,” “I can guess that it’s raining because I can hear the rain drops,” or because someone’s walked in, and their shoulders and umbrella are all soaking wet. You can say all of those things to indicate the source of your knowledge, but you don’t have to. You could just say “It’s raining” and let someone else figure out how you came to know that information.

Lauren: Whereas if we look at a language like Yolmo in Nepal that I’ve worked with, you can actually see someone’s knowledge state changing throughout the story that they’re telling because maybe they start with talking about something in a way where they’re not certain if this cake is going to be delicious, and then they talk about how someone told them it’s going to be delicious, and then finally, they have direct sensory evidence of how delicious the cake is. You see how the knowledge about the cake being delicious is really clearly marked by the grammatical choices that they have to make throughout the story. It means that I can keep track of someone else’s source of evidence in a way that’s more direct than in English. It means that people are more attentive to mine as well.

Gretchen: So, if you wanna say something like, “I infer that you understand,” you would be doing that with the evidential marker. Or “You told me that you understood this yesterday, so why don’t you understand it today,” then you’d have a lot of ways of marking the differences between those internal mental states.

Lauren: Yes. And those internal state experiences of if someone’s unwell or if someone’s hungry, I have to mark them differently if I don’t have any direct visual evidence. If you’re unwell, and you’re shaking and feverish, I can say that I can see you’re unwell. But if you’re unwell in a way that I can’t see, I have to use other grammatical ways of marking it. How you interact with other people’s internal states varies because sometimes you don’t have access to a direct source of evidence for it.

Gretchen: I feel like I’m just picturing those little cartoons you get in language learning textbooks where they have test very stereotyped representations of common illnesses that don’t have obvious physical things. Like, “I have a headache” would be like a person holding their head in great distress or with a hot water bottle on their head, and you’re like, “I don’t put a hot water bottle on my head when I have a headache.” Or like somebody who has a thermometer sticking out of their mouth or something to indicate these sort of things that aren’t really easily visually represented.

Lauren: It’s because figuring out someone else’s internal state is actually a really complicated cognitive task that we do, and we fall back on these tropes to help us navigate that.

Gretchen: I guess same for teaching other types of mental state verbs, you know, “know” or “understand” or “like” or something. You have these maybe very stereotyped or symbolic representations. If you have someone with a heart or something, maybe they’re liking it or loving it. But it’s difficult to do a picture of “I know,” “I understand.” Not everything is easily visualisable.

Lauren: You talked earlier about how it was a revelation for you at some point that maybe we can’t really know what’s happening in other people’s minds. There is a lot of cultural variation as to how much people are willing to feel like they’re able to intuit the internal states of other people – so much so that there’s a whole area of anthropology that looks at this idea of cultures where it’s really prevalent to assume that you can’t know someone else’s internal state. That’s the starting point for building social interactions.

Gretchen: This is the inverse of the Spanish thing where it’s like, “Yeah, I can infer your mental state.” This is like, “Nobody can really know what anyone else is thinking at all.”

Lauren: It’s a cultural assumption and starting point for building conversations and interactions that I’m gonna assume that I can’t know what your internal state is. I can only make reference to it by very overtly flagging that I don’t know that. I might talk about your actions rather than my assumptions about the thoughts behind those actions.

Gretchen: So, what does it look like in practice if someone’s operating under the assumption that you can never really understand what’s going on in someone else’s mind?

Lauren: A lot of the anthropologists who work in this area tend to look at the domain of gossip. I like to think of it in terms of – it just means that you’re unlikely to have gossip that goes along the lines of “What were they even thinking?” Instead, your gossip is more about the concrete actions of people rather than rationalising their mental state while they were doing those things.

Gretchen: Okay. So, not like, “This person had good intentions, but this thing didn’t work,” or “This person never cares about other people’s feelings, and so therefore…,” but it’s more like, “Oh, this person did this thing – ate my cake.”

Lauren: Yeah. I mean, assuming someone has good intentions is something that presumes that you can know what’s inside someone else’s mind.

Gretchen: It’s like, “This person ate my cake. I don’t care why they did it, but that’s what happened.”

Lauren: That tends to be more of the focus that gets talked about or that people might come upon by using strategies like grammatical evidentiality as a like, “You can’t know what’s in my mind, so let me tell you that I know that it’s raining because someone said or because I saw it.” Like, “Let me do that work for you of telling you my state of knowledge rather than you trying to guess something that you can’t guess.”

Gretchen: So, it’s not necessarily a thing of “We’re not talking about mental states,” but the person is the ultimate authority on their own mental state.

Lauren: Yeah. I think this area of opacity of mind is looking at commonalities between what are actually very different ways of approaching understanding people’s internal states because perhaps culturally we’ve just gone with the assumption that everyone thinks about social interaction the way we do and that maybe there’s a lot of variation there.

Gretchen: Lauren, are you saying we have bad theory of mind about theory of mind?

Lauren: Potentially. But I think learning about theory of mind as a bedrock and then opacity of mind as the way people approach this bedrock has made me more appreciative of keeping track of what people might know or not making assumptions about what people bring to any particular interaction. I really appreciate knowing about theory of mind for that reason.

Gretchen: I think practicing figuring out, okay, what are some possible mental states here, what might be going on. This is one of the things I really like about fiction, especially, reading books is you do get to be behind someone else’s eyes and thinking about what they’re doing and why they’re doing it even if their reasons for doing something are really different from what I would think. I find filmed stuff, unless there’s a lot of voiceover – I love voiceover because you can get into someone’s mind. Not everyone’s a fan of voiceover, but I love it because it gives you that internal mental state. I don’t just wanna look at someone’s face and think, “Oh, this is what they’re thinking.” I wanna be behind their eyes and thinking, “Oh, they actually think this is a good idea. Okay. Well, I’m along for this ride now.”

Lauren: I think fiction is a really great philosophical experiment. It’s one of the reasons I really find sci-fi to be interesting is because it can push the limits of what another mind is or what another mental state is to be thinking in. One thing we didn’t get to in the bonus episode about Arkady Martine’s Memory Called Empire is that there are people who have the capacity to take on the entire previous knowledge state of someone else. I just am like what would an evidential marking system be like for a person who has multiple consciousnesses worth of evidence for a statement.

Gretchen: Like, “I know this because my original consciousness knew this” or “I know this because the consciousness that I got added to mine later in life knows this.” Oh, man.

Lauren: There’re just so many layers of potential knowledge state there. That’s the kind of sci-fi that lets me bring my linguist brain to problems of consciousness.

Gretchen: I’ve been thinking about this from a practical level as well recently which is what’s the point of having a conference compared to just reading some blog posts or something about the same topic. I think it’s about that conferences create a state of shared knowledge among their participants. You know that everyone else was also at the same talks or in the same environment or is interested in the same topic, and so it gives you springboards for having conversations about topics of mutual interest rather than just “I’ve acquired this information.” It’s “I’ve acquired this information in a social context where I’ve also acquired a bunch of people to talk with about it.”

Lauren: I’ve never quite thought of conferences in that way, but that is a very wholesome, linguist-brain way to approach it.

Gretchen: Well, it’s partly why digital conferences can be unsatisfying because if you don’t know who else is in the audience and you don’t have any way of spending time with them then you don’t get to have that shared mental state with the fellow conference participants. You’re just receiving the knowledge in a way that you could do without the conference structure at all.

Lauren: I think that speaks to the way that approaching theory of mind allows you to just be more generous in the way you conceptualise other people’s intentions or their motivations or their actions, which is one thing I really appreciate about it.

Gretchen: I also think that there’s – I mean, this is definitely not in the canon of theory of mind – but it’s part of this thinking and reasoning about other people’s mental states. It’s also what the mental state is that you impose on someone else by reacting to something.

Lauren: Okay. I’m now very conscious about whatever I say in response to this anecdote.

Gretchen: I’m sorry. An example of this is the xkcd comic “Lucky Ten Thousand,” which reads, “I try not to make fun of people for admitting they don’t know things. Because for each thing ‘Everyone knows’ by the time they’re adults, every day there are, on average, 10,000 people in the US hearing about it for the first time.” And there’s some calculations. “If I make fun of people, I train them not tell me when they have these moments. And I miss out on the fun.” Then the little comic strip – this is two people – one says, “Diet Coke and Mentos thing? What’s that?” And the other one says, “Oh, man! C’mon we’re going to the grocery store.” “Why?” “You’re one of today’s lucky ten thousand.” Some of my friend groups have adopted “lucky ten thousand” when someone mentions like “Oh, what is this book?” or “What is this thing?” rather than say “Oh, you haven’t heard of that? What?”

Lauren: I can actually tell you exactly how Gretchen says it because Gretchen said to me when we were preparing for this, “Oh, you haven’t heard of the ‘Lucky Ten Thousand’? Oh my gosh, do I have the link for you.”

Gretchen: [Laughs] Exactly.

Lauren: It was so nice to not feel embarrassed to not know every comic in a canonical webcomic series and to be introduced to this very excellent one.

Gretchen: It makes the conversation happen in a much more positive way because then – you know, nobody’s read all the books. Nobody has done all of the things. You can have the conversation of “Oh, well, what did you like about it?” or “What is interesting about it?” without the shaming version of the conversation of “Why haven’t you done this?” or “What’s wrong with you that you don’t know this thing already?” I think this is a similar thing that happens when you create things as well, like “I wrote a book” or “on this podcast.” Sometimes, we’ll say something there or give some – like, here’s a set of examples or something. And sometimes people will reply, “Oh, I listened to your thing,” “I liked your thing and here is this other example for you.” Like, “Here’s another thing that you might like.” That frame is a really positive way of having that conversation and is something that I can then share with other people and say, “Oh, here’s this other thing that people might be interested in.” I can retweet it. Or “Here’s something else going on.”

Lauren: I always feel bad when people phrase it as though we have deliberately omitted something for nefarious reasons when it’s often just that we have a finite amount of time and there’re many languages.

Gretchen: Also, we don’t know everything. Sometimes, someone tells us about a new example.

Lauren: Sometimes, we get to be one of the lucky ten thousand for a topic in linguistics, and it makes us very happy.

Gretchen: The thing is, is the intentions are generally really good. People are excited to share things. They’re excited to talk about things. It’s just this common way of responding to things that doesn’t end up leading into the conversation that you wanna have and with a slight tweak could totally do that like the “lucky ten thousand thing.

Lauren: I also think about this modelling other people’s mental states and knowledge. I think one of the peak activities for that is creating a forwardable email.

Gretchen: Ooo.

Lauren: For those of us who spend a lot of time on email, occasionally, someone will say, “Cool. I’m glad we’ve agreed to do this thing. Can you put the details in a forwardable email so I can send it to the rest of the group?”

Gretchen: Right. Or “Can you introduce me to this person. Here’s why I think they’d be interested in talking about it.” And I’ll say, “Okay, I’ll write a forwardable email. I can send it to them, and then they can decide if they wanna talk to you,” or something like that.

Lauren: Me and this other person know that this email exchange has happened. I now need to write a single, useful, context-filled email that that person can forward on to the group that they want to do the thing with or someone that I am hoping to be introduced to. It requires me to think about what I know, what the person who asked me to do this email knows, and what this third person, who hasn’t been part of any of the prior conversation but needs all of the relevant context, needs to know. I just think that the mental state modelling involved and the mentalising what this person who hasn’t been part of the conversation needs is like Dunbar’s mental representation stuff as, like, multidimensional chess.

Gretchen: Because you end up saying – like, to the person you’re actually emailing, you’re telling them all of this information they already know, and that’s why you can sometimes specify to someone like, “Oh, yeah, please send me an email that I can forward to this person.” If I’m receiving a forwardable email, I know that you’re repeating information that I know, and it’s not patronising in this context because you know that I know that I’m gonna forward it to this third person who doesn’t know these things and so, therefore, that’s why you’re repeating this information that I already knew. There’s so many levels of understanding what other people are gonna potentially think in there.

Lauren: This is why, before we even get to thinking about language, we have to think about the cognitive processes that allow us to know where the marble is, to know if someone thinks cake is delicious, or to go to put everything into an email.

[Music]

Gretchen: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode, go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcast, Google Podcast, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get IPA scarves, “What the fricative” mugs, and other lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and my book about internet language is called Because Internet.

Lauren: I tweet and blog as Superlinguo. Have you listened to all the Lingthusiasm episodes, and you wish there were more? You can get access to 54 bonus episodes to listen to right now at patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patrons also get access to our Discord chatroom to talk with other linguistics fans and other rewards as well as helping keep the show ad-free. Recent bonus topics include the linguistics of Pokémon, backchannelling, and translation in fiction. Can’t afford to pledge? That’s okay, too. We also really appreciate it if you can recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone who needs a little more linguistics in their lives.

Gretchen: Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our Senior Producer is Claire Gawne, our Editorial Producer is Sarah Dopierala, and our Production Manager is Liz McCullough, and our music is “Ancient City” by The Triangles.

Lauren: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

📷

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uvobreakmylegs · 4 years

Text

The Graveyard

Vampire!Hisoka

🎃~Happy Halloween~🎃

Warnings: violence, gore, kidnapping, threats of noncon

The Nostrade cemetery sat a few miles beyond your hometown of Milsy, tucked in between the trees of a vast forest that had stood there for ages. The cemetery itself had been there almost as long, and was consequently the subject of gossip and tales of the supernatural. Every child that was born in Milsy had it drilled into them at an early age that they were never to approach the old graveyard or the woods beyond it.

The older folk claimed it was a gateway to hell.

You had your doubts that there was anything out of the ordinary about the cemetery, however. The rumors circulated in your town calling the graveyard cursed and that all manner of creatures roamed around it at night, but exactly what kind of creatures changed depending on who you spoke to, though the most consistent one was stories of ghosts and other restless spirits who were trapped on the cursed spot of land. But asking questions on how it became cursed didn't get you much in the way of answers. Even the middle-aged women who had nothing better to do than gossip had little to say when you asked. The closest thing you had gotten resembling an explanation came from an old man at the retirement home who had told you that something 'unholy' had happened there, long before he was even born, and that since then, evil had been attracted to the place. His explanation shortly turned into a rant about how it was the cause of everything wrong in the town; from the mysterious illnesses that occasionally plagued the people living there, the claims wild beasts that roamed the forests that only ate human flesh, to the disappearances in the town where typically teens and sometimes children vanished without a trace.

One of the nurses at the retirement home had escorted you out after the old man's rant and asked that you not come back if you only intended on upsetting their patients.

It was hard to believe that a graveyard could be the cause of an occasional illness that went around, but you couldn't blame the man for thinking the disappearances were related to the area. All of the witnesses to the missing children saw them last near that cemetery. Same thing with the the teens. Anyone else who had gone missing just vanished one day with no warning. And based off of what you had heard, you suspected that they had the same interests as you in wanting to find out what made that graveyard so special.

Your family was aware of your curiosity and tried to keep you on a tight leash, keeping your days busy and trying to keep the thought of visiting the cemetery out of your mind. As hard as they had tried, you had still found your opportunity and slipped away. Maybe going to an abandoned, likely falling-apart graveyard probably wasn't the smartest thing you had ever done, but there were probably dumber things you could have done instead of that, and you swore to yourself that if you just went there once and just see the damn place, you could put the matter to rest in your own mind.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky as you entered through the rusted gateway, still a long way off from nightfall. Though you told yourself to not believe in such things, it gave you some comfort that it wasn't dark out. Every ghost and monster story you had ever heard always took place at night. If there was something otherworldly in the graveyard, it seemed unlikely that it would come out in the middle of the day.

All in all, you would say that you were underwhelmed. The abandoned Nostrade cemetery appeared to be just that: an abandoned cemetery. Within the confines of the stone walls, there were graves and headstones as far as you could see, with an occasional mausoleum that obscured parts of the vast graveyard. There were large portions that were overgrown as trees, bushes and other plant life covered the slabs of stone, turning the gray rock various shades of green. You approached one of the headstones, kneeling down to inspect it and see what had been carved into it. Unfortunately, all you could learn from that particular bit of rock was that it was old, as the weathered stone had been battered by time and the elements to the point that it was impossible to read anything off of it. As you made your way further into the cemetery, you found that to be true of all of the graves you came across. Though you had anticipated that to be the case, given that there was no one to take care of the place, you had hoped you could learn at least a little about the people who had been buried there. The most you were able to make out from a few was just the image of a skull with wings that adorned the tops of the headstones.

And as you went deeper still into the graveyard, no matter where you looked, there was still no sign of any ghost or ghoul that the people in town were convinced inhabited every corner of the ancient site.

Part of you told yourself that it was time to head back now. You had accomplished what you had come here for: you had seen the graveyard, and proved to yourself that the multitude of stories that were passed around were just stories told to scare children and keep them out. You could be content with knowing that there was nothing mystical about it and get on with your life.

But you didn't want to leave yet.

For whatever reason, you felt compelled to explore more of it, to see how far it went. The size of it confused you, as it was larger than you had expected, and you wondered how many generations of families were buried beneath your feet for so many graves to litter the area in the way they did.

'I'll leave after I see the back wall,' you told yourself. That way you would have explored at least a majority of the graveyard, as well as see if there was anything different at the back, maybe an ancient tool shed of some kind for the long-dead caretakers.

There was nothing of the sort when you saw that wall come into view. Walking around a crumbling mausoleum, your eyes scanned the wall and the foliage that covered it. There was quite a bit more plant life this side of the cemetery, the graves near the wall all but overtaken by vines and flowers you didn't recognize. A tall tree towards the back, and on closer inspection, you noticed that behind the tree a bit of the wall had collapsed, allowing you a view into the dense forest beyond the walls. Considering the amount of time that the cemetery had been standing here abandoned, it was a miracle that more parts of it weren't like that; that the majority of the structures within the walls were standing upright instead of crumbling and broken.

You glanced to your right, wondering if there were any more parts of the graveyard that were more dilapidated like the hole in the wall before you.

“And what might a little fruit like yourself be looking for in here?”

You jumped at the sound of a voice behind you, your heart racing as you turned around to see who had spoken.

A man sat behind the mausoleum you had passed by, sitting cross-legged on a raised stone casket. He was dressed strangely, with card symbols on the front and back of his shirt and black heels on his feet. His hair was a vibrant red, and when he glanced over to you, yellow eyes looked you over.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. He then turned head towards you, smiling with his eyes closed.

“Well?” he asked, his tone cheerful.

“Uh.... Nothing, really?” you stuttered out, “I just wanted to look.”

“Ah, sightseeing, then?”

“I guess.”

He wore makeup as well, a star and a teardrop adorning his right and left cheeks respectively.

“And have the sights this cemetery has to offer been satisfactory to you?” he asked, turning his attention back to what was in front of him: a pyramid made out of playing cards. He held a card in each hand, carefully moving them to the top.

“For a cemetery, I guess it has,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

He hummed, placing the last two cards on the pyramid and carefully pulling his hands away.

“You must have gone out of your way to come here, and yet you don't seem like you care much for this place. Why is that?” he asked, turning to look at you again.

“Everyone in town freaks out over this cemetery, saying that it's cursed. I wanted to see if that was true,” you answered, placing your hands on your hips as you looked around once more, “it seems like a normal graveyard to me.”

“Oh? So just because you don't see anything wrong with it means that it must be normal?”

“I mean, if it wasn't normal, would you be hanging out here?”

The man smiled and chuckled to himself.

“Fair enough,” he said. He then motioned to the spot before him.

“Sit with me.”

You huffed, but obliged as you walked towards him. While he definitely seemed strange, you didn't get any sort of feeling that he was dangerous. Just a harmless weirdo who hung out in graveyards playing with cards.

…. Saying that in your head like that didn't make it sound like he was harmless. But for now you decided to go along with it. If worse came to worse, you were certain you could outrun him.

“What's your name?” you asked as you pulled yourself up onto the casket, copying him in sitting with your legs crossed.

“Hisoka. And yours?”

You responded with your own name as you settled yourself. The old stone didn't make for a good seat, and you squirmed a bit as you tried to make yourself comfortable. Hisoka watched with amusement, his eyes taking in your form as you looked back to him.

“Would you like to try?” he asked, pointing to the tower of cards before him.

You shrugged.

“Okay.”

With a single finger, he knocked over the structure, sending the cards toppling down.

“I've never tried making one before, though,” you added.

“That's fine. I can show you. Watch,” Hisoka said, gathering the cards together.

He put the cards in a stack, and with a practiced ease, he passed them from one hand to the other in the same way a professional dealer would. He then set about making the base, setting up two cards together so they formed a small triangle. A second set of cards joined them, and then a third.

“.... So do you just come here to play around with cards?” you asked after the sixth card triangle had been placed.

“Sometimes,” he said, laying several cards over the ones he had set up, creating the base for the next row.

“Doesn't that get boring?”

“Not really. I've met many interesting people through my visits here.”

“Like who?”

Hisoka paused as he began setting up the next row, looking at you with a grin.

“..... Me?” you asked, an eyebrow raised.

He nodded at you, smiling.

“That's stupid,” you muttered.

“And why's that?”

“We just met and we're playing with cards. You can't call me an 'interesting person' just for that.”

“The fact that you're here at all is what interests me,” he said, placing another set of cards.

“You said that the people in your town dislike this place, and despite all you seemed to have heard you came here anyway. And it appears to have been all for your own satisfaction.”

He hummed to himself as he placed down another layer of cards on top, the second row complete.

“Does it not matter to you that people have gone missing around this area?” he asked.

“It's been over two years since someone last went missing, and they caught the guy who did it,” you said.

“Oh? They found out who took that young man?” Hisoka's eyebrows went up slightly.

“Yeah. It was some guy in the next town over. Serial killer, among other things.”

“And they confirmed that he was the one responsible?”

“Technically, no. But there's a lot of people who went missing while he was running lose, and he isn't telling the police where the bodies are. So it's a pretty good chance that he's the one who did it. It's not like there are any other suspects.”

“I see.”

Hisoka was smiling, and you swore he was holding back laughter.

“You think it's stupid that I came out here?” you stated more than asked.

“I would say that you're a bit more brave than the others in that town of yours. That, or you just have a poor sense of self-preservation,” he said. The third row was now done.

“Tell me, do you plan on telling people about your visit here?”

“If I did that my family would lock me in the house for a whole year,” you scoffed, “you said it yourself earlier; it's for my own satisfaction.”

Hisoka's smile had widened. To you, it seemed like it was slightly too wide. Like the edges of his mouth went further than they should have. You caught a flash of his teeth as well, and noted that something about them seemed off. Like they were somehow sharper than they should have been.

“That's rather selfish of you, isn't it?”

His words broke your train of thought.

“How so?” you asked. The last set of cards of the fourth row was being placed.

“You came here without telling anyone despite knowing that there's a possible danger. What would happen if you injured yourself and you couldn't get back? No one would know where you were, and in a worst case scenario, you could die before any search parties find you. If they were to find you at all.

“You really didn't think about anyone but yourself when you came out here, did you?”

“.... Well that's one way to make me feel guilty,” you mumbled, “but I don't plan on dying in a place like this,” you added with a bit more confidence.

“You'll survive through sheer force of will alone?” Hisoka prodded.

“Something like that,” you huffed.

Hisoka was chuckling again, looking back at you with amusement. He'd gotten to the fifth row of cards, leaving only the very top of it left. With the last two cards in hand, he repeated what you had seen him doing before and placed the cards at the top of the pyramid, pulling his hands away slowly and spreading his arms open with a slight flair.

“See? Easy,” he said.

“There's no way I can do that as fast as you can.”

“You'll never know unless you try.”

Just like before, he knocked over the tower with the tap of a finger, the cards fluttering down onto the stone below them. This time he made no move to collect them, and he leaned back on his palms as he looked at you expectantly. Taking the hint, you gathered up the cards, sticking them into a semi-neat pile before grabbing two and copying what you had seen him do.

Or you tried to, at least. It took you several tries before you could get the cards to stand upright, and when you grabbed two more, you accidentally brushed against the two you had just set up and sent them falling.

A beat of silence passed as both of you looked at your fallen cards.

“We're going to be here a while,” you mumbled.

“Fine by me. I didn't have any plans,” said Hisoka. It was like that smile never left his face.

Many more tries were made with similar results, and it didn't take long for you to become frustrated to the point that you were tempted to give up. But a look at Hisoka's face made you reconsider throwing in the towel. He was clearly enjoying your failures and how irritated you were becoming by them. He wanted you to give up. The smug look on his face pushed you to keep trying, unwilling to give him that satisfaction.

After a bit, you realized that you could cheat slightly with the first row. The surface of the stone casket you sat on was rough with many grooves and bumps that provided a bit of support that at least ensured that they wouldn't fall instantly. After some careful positioning you were finally able to get a row of six. If he disapproved of the tactic he didn't mention it. You copied what you had seen him do earlier, grabbing what would be the base of the second row and gently dropping them on top, holding your breath each time.

Neither of you had said anything during this time, and while he seemed content just to watch, the silence was starting to get to you.

“So have you been to Milsy?” you asked.

“Yes. I frequently find myself there,” he said.

“Do dress differently when you visit? I feel like I would have heard something about you before today. The older women there live off of gossip.”

Hisoka shook his head.

“I don't need a disguise, if that's what you're asking. I only let people see me if I want to be seen.”

“Hmm.”

The answer didn't tell you much of anything. You decided against asking what he meant by 'letting' people see him as he would likely only give you more cryptic replies.

You grabbed two cards, trying to place them as carefully as possible on top of the ones you had stacked so far to start the second row.

“So do you live near this area? In another town nearby, or are you some kind of hermit?”

“I'm a magician,” Hisoka said.

“Magician? So you do magic tricks?”

“Yes.”

“... Can you show me?”

“I could,” he drawled, tilting his head, “but it would be boring if I just did that for you without anything in return.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“That we could make this a little more interesting! How about I'll show you a trick or two if you can successfully make a card tower?” he asked.

It sounded reasonable enough, so you nodded.

“Oka- Fuck!”

You weren't paying attention and had set the cards down too forcefully, causing the cards beneath to fall under the pressure.

“Ah, too bad!” Hisoka teased, “going to try again?”

“Of course,” you said, already gathering up the scattered cards.

Remembering your cheat, you were able to set up the base cards a little more quickly this time as you began the process again and built your way back up. Trying to rush through it ended with you being punished when your tower fell once again when you reached the same point as the last time. Hisoka continued to smile while you cursed and began again.

You tried asking more questions about him, but the answers you were getting stayed cryptic. Hisoka was born “somewhere” and had lived in the area for “a long time”. He had no friends or family but said that he had “acquaintances” that could “work in those roles” if he so needed. He also claimed that he had traveled quite a bit but wouldn't say where exactly, saying that you wouldn't know the places he was talking about.

“I'm starting to think you're trying to get me to leave, Hisoka,” you said, hissing as your tower fell for the umpteenth time.

“And why do you think that?”

“You've been doing everything to avoid actually giving me a straight answer to any of my questions.”

Beginning again, you glanced back up at him, not surprised to see that smile still on his face.

“You're not wrong,” he said, shrugging, “however, I think if I told you the truth you would still be upset.”

“Why?”

“Because you would still think I was lying.”

You sighed.

“You're impossible to deal with.”

“So I'm told.”

Setting up the bottom row of cards had become somewhat easier now, and by this point you had managed to make it up to the third row. A small breeze came through and you froze, hands going around the cards protectively as if you could shield them. Luckily, the cards stayed in place.

“I don't actually want you to give up and leave,” Hisoka said, leaning forward with his chin resting in his hand.

“After watching you for this long, I want nothing more than for you to succeed. I would hate it if you gave up now.”

“If you say so.”

You weren't at all trying to hide your tone, broadcasting that you still weren't convinced.

Hisoka sat quietly as he watched your tower grow once again, taking in your expression.

“How about along with a few tricks, I give you something good if you complete it?” he asked suddenly.

“I don't know. Do I actually want anything from you?”

“I think you might. Complete the house of cards, and I promise it'll be worth your while,” he said, “you just promise me that you won't give up.”

You sighed once again.

“I've wasted so much time now, I'm not letting that all be for nothing.”

“That's the spirit!” Hisoka encouraged.

With your focus on the cards that you continually built up over and over again, you didn't notice the way the sun slipped lower into the sky as time moved forward. Though sunset was still far away, certain lesser things within the cemetery and the surrounding woods were waking up and found themselves drawn to your scent, multiple sets of eyes peeking over and around the old stone to look at the human who had wandered in. You didn't notice any of them, nor did you notice the warning glances Hisoka sent to all of the beings that approached. The smile stayed on his face the whole time, daring them to try something.

No attempts were made on your life; they knew better.

“Is this going to be the one?” Hisoka asked.

“Shut up.”

Hisoka chuckled, amused at how hard you were concentrating. You had finally made it to the fifth layer of the pyramid, four cards leaning against each other at the top. You held a card horizontally above them, preparing to place it. If you got this one, then all you would need to worry about was the last two cards to finish it, and then you would finally be done with this and be able to laugh in Hisoka's face. You were aware of how stupid and petty this whole thing had become, but after all of that effort, you refused to let it be for nothing.

The card was in place and you pulled away, releasing a small sigh of relief when the cards stayed standing. Without taking your eyes off of the pyramid you grabbed the last two, ever so slowly bringing them up to face each other in what was now a well practiced motion. You positioned them on top, placing them so that the top edges leaned on each other to create the point, and slowly, slowly pulled your hands away, mirroring the way Hisoka had done it earlier.

“I did it,” you breathed, amazed with yourself. Despite how you had told yourself that you weren't going to leave before doing it, you hadn't actually been sure that you could pull off the trick, your original motivations of wanting to prove Hisoka wrong long forgotten. It was such a meaningless achievement and had taken more time to complete than it was worth, but you had done it, and you couldn't help the pride you felt when you looked up to Hisoka who was politely applauding for you.

“Very well done,” said Hisoka.

And with one flick of his index finger he sent the cards toppling down.

Your satisfaction turned to shock as you watched the result of all your effort fall back down to the rough surface of the stone. All that time you spent, and it only stood for a few measly seconds.

“..... I want to punch you.”

“Now now, don't be like that,” the magician laughed as he gathered up the cards, “you won, after all.”

You glared at him as he flashed you another smile, and you caught it again: something that was just off with his teeth.

“Now, I promised to show you some tricks, correct?”

His voice brought you back to what he was doing as he divided the stack into two, holding the stacks in both hands. He then brought his hands together with a clap. When he pulled them away, the cards were gone.

…... A sleight of hand. That was his trick.

“I'm going to punch you.”

“But it was a trick, like you asked for!” he gasped, feigning shock at your irritation.

You put your head in your hands. This time had been so thoroughly wasted on this asshole.

“If it really doesn't satisfy you, I can show you some others. But first! I'll keep my other promise.”

Lifting your head back up slightly to look through your fingers, you saw Hisoka as he hopped off the casket and extended a hand towards you.

“.... Something 'good'? Do you want to elaborate on what that is?” you asked.

“All in good time; I want to take you somewhere first.”

“Take me where?” you questioned as he continued to beckon you into taking his hand.

“It's a surprise~”

When you didn't reach out to take his hand, he gave you another grin - what was wrong with his teeth? - and grabbed you by your wrist.

His hand was large enough that it circled around your wrist completely, and his nails long and sharp enough that they lightly nicked your skin as he pulled you off of the stone and led you through the cemetery. Hisoka weaved through the headstones and plants while you trailed behind. Normally you would have protested someone grabbing you and leading you along like this, but you were caught off-guard by how cold his skin was. Like a person who had been left out in freezing temperatures, Hisoka's skin virtually sapped the heat away from yours in his iron grip. It didn't make sense given how mild the weather was at the moment, and the two of you had been out there for so long; how could his skin feel so cold when you were just fine?

“Hisoka, are you sick?”

He tilted his head back as he smiled at you.

“I've never felt better.”

The two of you made your way to the hole in the cemetery's wall, climbing up the exposed roots of the tree that stood in front of it before stepping over the crumbled rock and out into the vast expanse of the forest. He continued to lead you forward, dodging your questions of where he was taking you with the same claim of it being a “surprise” and that you would “find out soon”, while his faster pace required you to trot behind him while you tripped over the forest floor. His hand remained in place around your wrist, never letting you fall and pulling you closer to him when you began to fall too far behind.

It now dawned on you how much time you had spent out here. People in the town would have noticed your absence, and for those that knew you well, it wouldn't take much for them to figure out where you had gone. You were screwed, and the only thing you could do to try and make this better was to get back before sunset.

“Hisoka,” you tried, “I just realized I've been gone for too long. I really need to get back home.”

“Don't worry; I'll take you home.”

Worries about this man that you had pushed away earlier were now coming back, and you mentally berated yourself for even speaking to him. You should have left the instant you saw him. Instead you spent, what, hours with him? With a man who thought that fun was hanging out in graveyards and playing with cards over buried bodies. You had idiotically thought he was harmless, and now you were being dragged by this man through the woods, further and further away from the cemetery and any familiar landmarks that would lead you back home while you fought against the grip on your wrist that didn't budge in the slightest no matter how you pulled against it. Your pleas to know where you were going and for him to let go became increasingly desperate but appeared to fall onto deaf ears as Hisoka pressed onward.

“Hisoka, please stop and tell me what you're doing!” you yelled, exasperated.

To your surprise, he abruptly stopped in his tracks and you to almost ran into him. You took the chance to catch your breath, looking back up at the magician. He wasn't looking at you, still facing forward.

“.... Hisoka?”

A long, low moan sounded from the man, and he turned towards you as he ran a hand through his hair, tongue licking his lips and his eyes brimming with lust.

“Your little heart is beating so fast and it's making me so excited~” he breathed, pulling your wrist up to his face and nuzzling against it. A chill ran down your spine and you tried again to pull back your hand. But just as before he didn't budge.

“Let go of me,” you whispered.

“That would be a bad idea, little fruit. There are lots of things in this forest that would love to have a piece of you, but as long as you're with me, you're safe.”

“I don't feel safe.”

Hisoka smiled against your skin, his other hand reaching to grip the back of your head. All the while his eyes never left yours.

“Would you believe that you're the first person to ever finish making a card house for me? In all of the years I've been here, every other person gave up and tried to leave,” he said.

“.... I can't say I blame them. I should have given up, too,” you mumbled.

“That would have been very bad for you, dear,” he continued, his lips only a breath away from the skin of your wrist.

“And why's that?”

“Because I would have killed you.”

Despite the gravity of his words, Hisoka said them with a certain air of nonchalance, all while he kept your wrist up near his face, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as his eyes gauged your reaction.

You didn't know what to say or how to react. The alarm bells in your head were blaring and you wanted to tear yourself away from his grip and escape this situation. But the longer you spent in his presence, a sick feeling rose within you that you wouldn't be getting away from this man.

“.... That's a sick joke, Hisoka.”

“I said earlier that if I told you the truth, you would think I was lying, didn't I? If I had been completely truthful, you would have been scared off and I would have needed to kill you. It's a little rule I made for myself,” he explained, “just killing anyone who wandered in became a bit boring, so I thought it would be more fun to give people a chance to save themselves by playing my game. But as I said, you're the only one who stuck through it. And I have to say, I couldn't be happier that the first person was you. Some of these people I simply-”

“Let go of me!”

Your yell interrupted his speech while you once again pulled against his hold on you, your other arm pushing against the one that held you by the head. His words sent a rush of adrenaline through you and you twisted and pulled to free your wrist while you kicked at him. He was insane, dangerous and if he wasn't going to kill you, you were willing to bet he was going to rape you just based off of the way he was looking you over.

“Did you not hear me? Right now you're safest with me,” said Hisoka, not at all bothered by your struggles.

“You wouldn't want to know what other kinds of things are around these parts.”

And with that he bit into your wrist.

You screamed as his teeth sunk into the flesh of your arm and broke through. Hitting and kicking at him, you felt him sucking out your blood, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed it. He was drinking your blood. Actually drinking your blood.

Hisoka was unaffected by your attacks, ignoring the way you were beating at him in an attempt to get him off of you. In mere moments after he had bitten you, you began to feel dizzy, and when your free hand landed a soft blow to his head, it stayed there. He opened an eye, taking in your flushed appearance as the blood-loss – how had he taken so much so quickly? - began to get to you. The corners of the mouth that was still planted on your wrist turned upward as he sneered at you. He was enjoying your distress, and that realization had you seeing red.

In an action fueled by rage at being toyed with by this man, you moved the hand you had placed on his head-

And jammed your thumb into his eye socket.

Hisoka yelled out in a mixture of surprise and pain. He pulled away from your wrist as he staggered backwards.

You lifted a leg and kicked him, finally pulling away from him and turning to make a mad dash back to the cemetery. The adrenaline and the panic in your mind allowed you to not really think about what you had just done to him, only focusing on getting back to the cemetery and from there escape home. And after that, you swore you would never even think about this place again.

Dirt and leaves kicked up around you as you scrambled to get away from that man. You prayed that you would be able to find that entrance to the cemetery – whatever kind of freak Hisoka was, he wouldn't pursue you with a wounded eye, right?

You weren't sure if you tripped over a stray tree root or just simply lost your footing to sheer stupidity, but you stumbled as you ran and fell flat on your face, the speed at which you fell making you hit the ground hard. Your arms and legs flailed as you tried to push yourself back up and continue running, but the shakiness you were suddenly experiencing made it hard to control your limbs.

A heel slammed down on the base of your spine and you yelped as you were forced back down onto the ground. Struggling only made the heel dig in deeper and you screamed as the pain became too much, tears streaming down your face as you were forced into submission. Your whole body shook as you looked at the person standing over you: Hisoka, breathing hard, his eye shut and blood trailing down his cheek and ruining his make-up. Slowly, he brought a hand up to his bleeding eye, wiping the blood with a single finger. He inspected it, like it was something he had never seen before, never experienced. There was a wild look in his uninjured eye, and when he looked back at you he smiled, sharp bloody teeth on full display.

“You have a vicious streak in you,” he breathed, “ if you're willing to gouge out someone's eye just to get away from them.”

“You- you were drinking my blood, you freak,” you spat.

He groaned, licking up his own blood as he looked down at you.

“Darling, you're perfect.”

Suddenly his body was on top of yours, pressing down and holding you in place while he held your wrists above your head. His other hand roughly gripped your hair and pulled your head to the side. His teeth sunk into you again, this time into your neck.

Warm blood was dripping down your neck as he began to suck you dry. Your vision began spinning, and your limbs weren't moving like you wanted them to. When Hisoka pulled away the hand that held your wrists in favor of grabbing your waist, you could barely move them. Your strength was almost completely sapped and you whimpered, never imagining you would die like this.

Hisoka pulled off of you, licking up the blood he had missed before sitting up, virtually straddling you as he re-positioned himself.

“I needed to take a bit more since you injured me, and of course, now you're probably too weak for me to continue like I wanted to. Shame. I liked the idea of fucking you into the forest floor, but I really want you to be awake for it.”

With a good deal of effort, you glanced back up at him.

Two yellow eyes gazed back at you. Two, perfectly fine, yellow eyes that showed no sign of injury save for the lingering smear of blood on his cheek. The eye that you had shoved your thumb into had miraculously healed itself, and that wide smile formed once again when he saw your shock.

“I.... I.. M-my- how?”

“I just drank blood from your neck; you really can't figure it out?” Hisoka laughed, “you aren’t very bright, are you?”

He leaned back down, his nose nuzzling against your cheek. Hisoka sighed against your skin.

“I'm going to keep you like this for a while, let you live out a few more years as a human. You'll want for nothing, and I'll keep you safe. And eventually, I'll make you like me.”

'I don't want to be like you,' you wanted to scream, but you didn't have it in you to say anything. By now you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. When he finally moved off of you, you made no move to run again. You physically couldn't.

He hauled you up by the back of your shirt, laughing as your head lolled back when he pressed your body against his.

Hisoka's hand on your jaw pulled you back, and his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, tasting your own blood on his tongue as he shoved it into your slack mouth.

He pulled away, patting your cheek.

“Get some rest now. I expect a lot from you.”

You barely registered his words before unconsciousness finally overtook you.

With a satisfied hum, Hisoka slung you over his shoulder and began to make his journey back to his home deep within the forest. Licking the last of your blood off of his lips, he let out another satisfied sigh.

You were going to keep him entertained for a long time.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere x reader #Hisoka #hisoka x reader #hisoka morow #hisoka morow x reader #reader insert #yandere hxh #halloween #vampire #hxh hisoka

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