#hoseok fluff

[perfectlyoongi]

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who runs with you to the cafeteria when the building is busy or empty. if work was a painful, boring thing that made you crawl against the walls until it was time to go home, Hoseok just wanted to make sure that those eight or so hours you had to spend there were fun. besides his company and flowery personality, Hoseok also liked to use his hot energy as a distraction for you and, considering that it wasn't very appropriate to have paper fights in the middle of the office, the easiest alternative was small runs. from your desk, which was at the end of the hallway, away from the stairs, to the cafeteria, which was one floor below yours, you and Hoseok danced in long strides through the office, leaving a trail of laughter and happiness behind you. “coffee break! a run to the cafeteria or are you too scared to lose, again?”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who changes departments for you but will never admit it. Hoseok liked what he did — for him, it was a job and not an obligation. but when you joined the company, when you created an extremely strong bond with Hoseok, he started thinking about what he really wanted. yes, he liked his job, his colleagues, and even his bosses — but what about you? Hoseok never thought that you would become someone important to him, and he never dreamed that he would need to see you every day to feel good. because of that, and because he felt that you would last longer than his job, Hoseok changed departments to something he liked, but wasn't passionate about. but it didn't matter — there, he was closer to you. “yes, i'm going to change offices. if everything goes well, next month i'll be on your floor. when it's my first day here, i'll buy you lunch. what do you say?”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who leaves you little notes on your desk throughout the day. whenever Hoseok passed by you, whether it was to ask a colleague for some papers or to get water, he made sure to leave you little reminders that helped you get through the day and cheer you up in more difficult moments. as if it were some magical power, Hoseok seemed to always guess when you needed his words and made sure you knew you would never be alone, not as long as you had Hoseok by your side. “don't forget to listen to your body. i know it's complicated, but remember to take good care of yourself. stretch your back, take a deep breath, drink some water. the day is almost over. you can make it to the end.”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who hides with you in the cleaning closet when you're too tired. you didn't say anything anymore. when Hoseok held your hand, you already knew what he was going to do. always quick to act, Hoseok led you through the hallways to the cleaning closet to help you calm down. sometimes you would laugh like two children, as if you were hiding from your parents so you wouldn't have to go to sleep; other times, he would hold your face and help you take deep breaths, wiping away the tears as they streamed down your face; and there were still times when he would just hold you, using his arms as a shield against life. somehow, supernaturally, Hoseok always knew what you needed and you knew that if you weren't able to take care of yourself, Hoseok was there to take on that role. “don't make any noise, they can still hear us. just 5 minutes and then we'll be back, i promise! don't laugh! i swear if they find us, i'll steal your chair.”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who believes in you and your potential from day one. “if you don't believe in yourself, i'll believe for you,” Hoseok's voice was low, sweet, carrying with it the little comfort he could give you in that small closet. “you don't have to lose your head over these matters. i'm here. i remind you to take care of yourself. i believe in you. you've come this far on your own, imagine what you could do with me holding your hand. focus on your work. i know you'll get it done on time. you just need to breathe in… that's it, now… breathe out… you're more capable than you think. you're stronger than you think.”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who only leaves work when you go home. Hoseok knew you like no one else and he knew that you loved to escape from work as soon as the end of the day arrived; but Hoseok also knew that there were intense days, when you forgot the time or were even forced to stay at work whether you wanted to or not. as such, and to ensure that you were taking care of yourself, Hoseok only went home when he was sure that you were going to rest. for some reason, Hoseok couldn't end his day without knowing if you were okay. “it's late, let's go. you finish this tomorrow. you have time and you also have to take care of yourself. don't complain, let's go. i'll take you home.”

CO-WORKER!HOSEOK who is afraid to confess because he doesn't want anything to change between you. you were the perfect friendship for Hoseok: you were his support, his conscience, his accomplice in mischief and the one who held all his feelings. from a very early time, Hoseok knew that he wouldn't want to lose you. you became very important very quickly and he felt so good with you, so safe, so himself — he didn't want to lose that connection, that part of him, of you. “i don't know how you’ll react to this, but i ask you to promise me that nothing between us will change. i can't think of what would become of me without you and although i like you, a lot, i'd rather have you as a friend for an eternity than lose you for even a minute.”

[hoseoksluna]

LIFE | jhs

pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)

genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff

word count: 8.6k

summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door. 

pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.

note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.

Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often. 

Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina… and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your guts—a friend that could not stand you. 

A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoon’s before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew what his deal was—it’s only that you couldn’t do anything about it. You were Namjoon’s for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your side—you prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality. 

But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run.��

Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoon’s intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty. 

But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with him—and you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok. 

He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure you’re seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay. 

It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite into—and it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff. 

Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship. 

Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it. 

You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon is—he knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasn’t willing to go the extra mile. 

He didn’t consider it. Didn’t mention it. 

He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together. 

And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested. 

It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion. 

An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours. 

His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseok’s first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water. 

You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you. 

And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last. 

“I come home to find you single,” he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. “He’s drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkook’s lap and you’re here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.” 

Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are gone—those you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of. 

You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. “Jungkook must be happy about that.” 

Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you. 

Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. You’d grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like he’s doing now. It’s the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common. 

All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you. 

And it no longer shall. 

If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life. 

“If you came here to talk about him, then I’m not interested,” you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. “If you came here for me, then the door is open.” 

And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps. 

You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch. 

So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself. 

But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up. 

Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service. 

The first kind thing he’s ever done for you. 

He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when you’re bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take. 

You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just won’t leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You can’t be the only one who’s brave this evening. 

You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were. 

And the process soaks your panties. 

So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you can’t stand it anymore. 

“You should start talking before I go to bed,” you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches. 

He showed you little of it. You know he’s capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age. 

And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you. 

Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea. 

You’re a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste. 

“Did he break your heart?” he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxing—as if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him. 

It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and you’d much rather sit on them than talk about your ex. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseok’s façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you. 

He leans back, slouching in the chair. “Answer the question.” 

The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And you’re too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings you’ve shamefully forgotten about. 

The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You should’ve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at home—in and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though you’re a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body. 

And you might as well give him what he asks of you. 

Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you don’t blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them. 

“He didn’t break my heart, I broke his,” you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours. 

He didn’t expect that. 

Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly. 

Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. “It was about time you did.” 

The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you don’t. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldn’t be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseok’s eyes don’t flick to it. No, he can’t miss this. He can’t miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.

If it drags, it’s not meant for you. If it’s fast, it couldn’t wait to meet you. 

And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction you’re rubbing—the miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because you’re baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable. 

He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet. 

Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that he’s just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and you’re hot, hot all over. 

The thumping worsens—and you need him, all of him, to make it better. 

Perceiving that he’s succeeded in his strategy by the way you just won’t stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. It’s a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him. 

And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now. 

“It was about time you and I talked alone, don’t you think?” you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distance—all that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.

Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back. 

The man likes feet.

You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that you’re taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let it—you let it consume you. 

And you let his following question consume you just as much. 

“Were you in love with him?” 

It’s a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months you’ve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out. 

No need for long nights of overthinking. 

No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.

“No, I was used to him—that’s different,” you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe it’s the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. There’s never a still time—and you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. “What’s it to you?” 

Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst. 

“What’s it to me?” 

There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers. 

Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled there—and you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him. 

“You’re genuinely asking me this question?” he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face. 

A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors his—hasty, deep and strained—and you can’t take it anymore. 

How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin? 

You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation. 

“Yes, Hoseok. What’s it to you?” 

He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it. 

“I had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,” he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re not a pretty toy. You’re a person.” 

He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.” 

He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about. 

And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says there’s no going back. 

“I talked to you. We fought, don’t you remember?” 

He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. “What do you think would’ve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?” 

Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didn’t move its lifeless limbs right by his will. 

“I’ve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you… I couldn’t. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didn’t let you let it out. And I can’t forgive him for that.” 

What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead? 

A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside you—you can’t face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment. 

How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick. 

“Don’t forgive him,” you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer. 

“Do you want me?” he asks—a foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. “Do you want me to let out that life in you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. It’s his—it always belonged to him. “Take me. Here.” 

He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. “You’re so feisty.” Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. “But no.” 

The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing through—hand in hand with sobriety. 

But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release. 

A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. “Don’t give it to me that easily.” 

Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. “Jebal, Hobi.” 

Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forward—ever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he can’t speak. 

He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. “Don’t beg me,” he croaks out, so terribly strung out. “I’m-I’m—”

You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesn’t need to speak—you’re fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you can’t help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and it’s him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. “I want you to feel that life in me and know it’s yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.” 

He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but they’re not. They’re soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face you’ve never seen before, that feels too, too significant—and you’re not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt. 

Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at. 

The sea that has remotely stilled—but you’re still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water. 

And you do. 

He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out. 

“Did you cry for him?” 

Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and you’ve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. It’s over, it’s over.

“Stop fucking—”

Hoseok doesn’t relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. “Did you cry for him?” 

Your heart wept, but your eyes didn’t. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. “No.” 

He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates you—and light opens in your sensitive bosom. “Good girl.” 

And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legs—as well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his. 

The life in you throbs. 

His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until he’s breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he’s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowers—and you feel like it, being looked at like that. 

“I knew you were smart,” he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. “That life in you will always win. No matter what.” 

You believe him—in fact, there’s nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again. 

“Touch it, please.” 

Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged. 

He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attention—and at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain. 

Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you can’t take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing. 

And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him. 

Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he did—your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. “Right here. Life. Beautiful life.” He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. “It’s time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Let’s take these off.” 

He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumb—and you’re so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants. 

You’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with. 

Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally. 

“He never made you wet like this, did he?” he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. “You don’t even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.” 

You don’t even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume. 

Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldn’t handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesn’t let you see his muscular body—he plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit. 

And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You can’t speak, you can’t breathe—you can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body. 

And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you can’t take it. 

You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away. 

He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. “Hoseokie—”

He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out. 

“The fact you can’t take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didn’t do his job well,” he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him. 

There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongue—for his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of you—it heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once. 

“That’s right,” you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. “Go slow on me.”

He croons, squeezing his eyes. “My little girl.” 

He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in you—your heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity. 

He kisses his way down to your breasts. “I’ll go slow on you,” he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighs—up to your knees. “Do you want to stop here?” 

You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off. 

And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth. 

Your poor heart skips a beat. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?” 

He kisses the ball of your foot, doesn’t break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like that—and you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you. 

Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” 

You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils. 

“That’s so hot.” 

He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. “It’s because you have my heart.” 

Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his. 

And you don’t think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too. 

And you’re not afraid to reciprocate his feelings—they’re as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle. 

“You have me,” you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. “You have my life. It’s more of a treasure than my heart.” 

He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didn’t want you to get hurt by Namjoon. 

You just didn’t know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty. 

Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. “I want both.” 

“Then, have it.”

And he kisses your forehead. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” 

You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means it—and so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handle—

“Lay back down.” 

You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. “Don’t call me that when I need to be gentle with you,” he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. “Right now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I can’t do that. Not when you’re not used to me yet.” 

Yes, the promise of the sea—you convulse from head to toe, pining after it. 

“I want that so bad.” 

He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. “And I’ll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.” 

You comply, but you take him with you—grabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him. 

“I didn’t bring any condoms.” 

You huff out a soft noise. “Good. I want you to come all over me.” 

Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing. 

“I’ll give you a big load.” 

You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. “Yes, please.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face. 

“Good girl. Such good manners.” 

And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime. 

“I can feel you stretching around me, fuck. You’re so warm, so tight for me,” he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from that—and the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Stay with me, baby, you can take this. I’m gonna make you feel so good and you’re gonna come on this cock.” 

Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that you’re ready for him.

“I’m gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything you’re feeling as I fuck you,” he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you can’t help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity. 

He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.

“Fuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, don’t you?” he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin. 

“I think I was born already knowing them,” you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for it—a singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.

And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with it—all while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you. 

“You can’t handle my tongue and I can’t handle it when you flirt with me,” he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. “God, I wanna destroy you so bad.” 

Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish. 

“Say that again.” 

Your breath hitches. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight he’s gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.

“Fuck, Hobi, you feel so good,” you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one. 

“Whose are you?” he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervix—and you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out. 

But only one thing is clear. 

“I’m yours.” 

And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and you’re on the cusp. 

Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg. 

“Please, please, baby. Come for me. I’m so fucking close for you. Please, I’m gonna come all over you.” 

And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitate—your back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines. 

Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him. 

Blood-hot. 

And you feel as though you deserved every drop. 

Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see. 

Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though he’s still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning. 

They cease to exist. 

You’re not his best friend’s ex. You’re not anyone’s ex—

“Look at how little you are,” Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. “So little under me and all mine, aren’t you?” 

His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him. 

But Hoseok doesn’t stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head. 

“I’ll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And I’ll be standing beside you and I’ll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.” 

He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again. 

Again and again. 

Again in the shower. Again in your bed when you’re riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb. 

And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world. 

Hoseok is that life. 

And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[cheeseceli]

Boyfriend Hobi

Pairing: Jung Hoseok × gn!reader

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Request: boyfriend hobi, perchance?!

Warnings: physical touch, mentions of food, he's an idol, mentions of fights

A/n: this one's a bit long I think lmao | daily click

Hobi ver. | Jimin ver. | Taehyung ver. | Jungkook ver.

This was probably a best friends to lovers thing

It took him a while to make a move because he was scared to mess up the relationship

So either you make the first move or you'll have to be very patient 😭

Oh this one is strong on physical touch btw

He likes to cuddle, he will always save a seat for you next to him, random hugs just because

And he will never let go of your hand

Trust me on this one

If you're walking around, better believe he WILL be holding your hand

And he also hugs you when you're cold to warm you up 🙂‍↕️

Your opinion is EXTREMELY important to him

Both on trivial matters, like what hat he should wear, and on more important things, like his job

You always receive spoilers to the tracks he's producing as well

Partner privileges

Talking about partner privileges

He takes such care of you

Always make sure you ate enough and on time

Drives you to your work/uni and then drives you home after

Insists on you taking an extra coat on cold days

Even massages you when you're too stressed or when you had a particularly rough day

Also loves to send you texts and voice messages throughout the day

If you can't see each other that day, he's gonna make sure to document EVERYTHING to you

He loves to have you near, even when it's not physically possible

He also smiles mid kiss 💔

He perceives everything as well

You're currently obsessed with a new series? He's already sending you videos about that

You're feeling kinda down? He is comforting you before you can barely understand what you're feeling

You want to go to some place? He's already cleaning his schedule so you can go asap

He's so observant

And if you're talking, his eyes are on you

The type of guy to put his full attention on you

He's a perfectionist, nothing new here

So if you guys ever fought it would probably be because of these details

And because he wanted the relationship to be so perfect, there would probably be a bit of accidental self sabotage

But with time this gets better

He also needs a bit of validation

I don't think he'd be very jealous (considering the perilla leaf debate)

But some validation is still nice lmao

Trusts you with his life

You know every single secret of his

You know where every precious possession of his is, and you can use all of them

You're his emergency call

He genuinely trusts you a lot

He's not jealous, but he is protective

If he senses you're feeling uncomfortable, he will step up with no hesitation

Sidewalk rule

He loves your smile

He has 649264 pictures of you smiling

And most of these pictures were taken secretly, when you were too focused on just enjoying life to notice the camera

Idk he also seems like he would want to have matching items with you

If English/Korean are not your mother tongue, he would LOVE to learn your language

He would learn a few words and suddenly that's all he's saying for the rest of the week

Overall, he's your safe place and you're his

He is your personal sunshine: cheer you up on sad days and make happy days even brighter

Confidents of each other

It would be a dream, honestly

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Fri(end)s

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[borathae]

BTS Reaction: Breakfast in Bed

Anonie said: Sibiuuu I'm back 😚😚😚 thank you so much for all the other reactions, I'm so happy yippiee 😚 neow listen kween 👉🏾👈🏾 Bangtan's reaction to getting breakfast in bed? I just think it would be so fluffy and sweet 👉🏾👈🏾

Genre: Fluff

Gender: not-specified

Wordcount: 3k

a/n: anonie my love! this is exactly the kind of content I lose my shit over gaaah i LOVE!! this got so insanely fluffy and romantic i'm so happy but also omgmgm listen 😔 the thought of having a lover? and surprising them with breakfast in bed? i cry because it's not my reality 😔

Namjoon

CW: hinted “night after” trope, bsf2l!AU

This is the first time he stays at your place. You and he aren’t new per say. As a matter for fact, you were best friends before you became more. Namjoon always said that friends can’t become lovers until he fell for you. Namjoon was also at your place before, many times actually, but he never slept over. Especially not as your boyfriend. After a, well, after a very nice night. 

He traces the spots you touched last night, reminiscing with closed eyes how it was to be with you. Namjoon always thought that love making was only thing of movies. Sex stems from humans and humans are too flawed the create something as innocent as love making. Then he laid with you and felt your breath against his neck and Namjoon finally got it. 

He opens his eyes before his racing heart can overwhelm him. He sits up.

“Holy fuck”, he presses out, touching his own chest to make sure that he was still alive. His heart never raced as much before. So this is how it feels like.

You have some books on the bedside table. Namjoon reaches for one of them in order to distract himself from the massive butterflies in his stomach. He begins reading, glasses perched atop his nose while his tummy continues to tingle.

The books is about philosophy and art. No wonder he fell for you. An art exhibition is only truly enjoyable when he visits it with you. Philosophy only really makes him want to think if he knows that he can share his thoughts with you later. Nature is truly only relaxing if he knows that you get to be next to him. Falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. 

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Namjoon lowers the book, giving you his full attention. His hair is messy, his glasses sit on his nose very prettily. He isn’t wearing a shirt, honey skin kissed by the sunlight entering your bedroom.

“I am. Good morning. Damn, you are really beautiful”, he says, tummy fluttering.

“Thank you. You are beautiful too.”

Namjoon watches you close the distance, “what are you carrying?”

“Breakfast. I thought I could impress you. You know, first night together and all that.” You explain, putting the tray on his lap. “Let me know what you think of it.”

Namjoon studies it, feeling lost for words. You aren’t his first relationship and yet you are the very first person to ever make him breakfast in bed. Well, except for his parents when he got sick as a kid, but this was totally not the same thing. 

“You’re quiet. Does this mean you don’t like it?” you ask quietly.

“What? No, I love it. I’m sorry, I just can’t believe it, that’s all.” 

“Wait till you taste it. I really put my whole breakfastussy into it.”

He cracks up, scrunching his eyes. You snicker, swaying from side to side giddily.

“If that’s the case, I have to try it. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You put on some music in the meantime. It is the same vinyl you listened to last night. 

Your eyes meet shyly. His heart is racing as much as yours is. The memory of last night is so sweet.

“Is it okay if I put on some music?” you ask.

“It's more than okay. You're fucking perfect”, he assures you.

“Nice”, you return to bed, getting comfortable on your side. You sit cross-legged, snatching some of the food to snack on.

But Namjoon can’t concentrate on breakfast. All he sees is you.

He finally gets it. Namjoon finally goddamn gets it.

He takes your hand, squeezing it gently. You stop munching, meeting his eyes in curiousity.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, thumb tracing your knuckles, “I know, first morning kiss and us being in the middle of eating and all, but maybe?”

You giggle, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’d really like to kiss you too”, you confess and close the distance to do exactly that.

Seokjin

“Wakey wakey to some brekkie”, you coo, entering the bedroom with a tray full of food. 

Seokjin, your boyfriend and occasional private chef, gawks at you in surprise as the roles are reversed this morning. He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, when you entered the bedroom. 

“You made me breakfast?” he asks, voice dripping in disbelief.

“I did and it’s your favourite. Now careful, there’s lots on there.”

Seokjin stares in pure shock, feeling his heart speed up. His ears are flushed. 

“Wow, I mean, wow. I love it, but why?”

“Why? Because I want to treat you, that’s why.”

“I see”, he murmurs and lowers his head shyly, ear flushing even harder. “Thank you, wow.” 

You snicker, climbing on bed.

“Now try it, pookie. Before it gets cold.”

“I don't even know where to start. Everything looks so good.” 

“Maybe this? I made it with extra love.”

“Wah, you and your cheesy lines.”

You laugh, “I learned from the best”, you tease, nudging his soft cheek.

Seokjin lets you because you are the only person he allows touching his face. Because he loves you and trusts you. And because your touch is always placed so gently. 

“Then I guess I have to start with this”, he says and picks up the chopsticks.

You snicker beside him, making him sneak a glance at you. You are so adorable to him right now. 

Seokjin lowers the chopsticks, meeting your eyes. He looks at you in ways you have never seen on him. Serious, intense and deeply in love. 

“What?” 

“Just making sure that this is real. You’re so perfect.”

“Be quiet.”

You fluster, lowering your head. The racing of your heart increases when he tilts your head back up with two fingers under your chin. His brows are lifted in a gentle invitation to open your mouth and take the bite he offers. 

Of course you take it, heart truly losing it when he wipes the corner of your mouth and licks his finger. 

Whatever happened to your goofy boyfriend right now, please don’t let it end. Don’t misunderstand, you love his dorky side, but this is changing you as a person. He is so attractive right now.

“Is it yummy?” he asks, gazing at your lips as he caresses your chin.

“It is. Wow, you just made my heart race.”

Seokjin grins lopsidedly and leans closer, “good.” He whispers and kisses your lips with such seriousness and emotion that your heart begins racing yet again.

Yoongi

Yoongi is already awake when you enter the bedroom. He is staring at the wall, trying to come alive on the lazy Saturday this way. Like most mornings, his hair is dented at the back and sticks up messily. It’s a cute look especially paired with his puffy cheeks and barely open eyes.

“Oh? You’re awake? Perfect. Brb”, you say after sticking your head into the room to check on him.

Yoongi acknowledges you with a hum and smacks his lips. He sits, waiting curiously for you to come back while his sleepy eyes run over the dimly lit room. 

You return with something in your hands and a goofy grin on your lips.

“Good morning, darling.”

“What’s this?” his voice is still raspy from sleep.

“Breakfast in bed. It’s raining today and I wanted to be romantic.” You put the tray on his lap. “Tada.”

Yoongi scans his eyes over the array of his favourite breakfast food. You even made him an iced Americano and put together a small flower bouquet with flowers from the garden. 

Yoongi feels so giddy that he could burst. But he is also a little shy about being openly giddy (and very sleepy), so he sits and stares while his heart races unbearably. 

“What do you think?” you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.

“You did this for me?” he sounds in disbelief. 

“Of course I did.” You peck his cheek. “You deserve it and I love you.”

“Thank you. This makes me so happy”, he says and begins eating with flushed cheeks and a giddy smile.

“And? Is it good?” 

“It is. I love breakfast”, he gushes and puts his arm around your waist to pull you close. 

You sit down on the edge of the bed, giggling happily when he kisses your cheek. His eyes sparkle in adoration once he pulls back.

“Thank you for this. I’m very happy.”

“It's because I love you.”

“I love you too.” He closes his eyes and rests his head on your shoulder, giving your waist a soft squeeze, “Thank you.”

You love how Yoongi shows affection, melting in fondness. You hug his head, giving it a little kiss.

“Anything for you, baby.”

Hoseok

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~” 

You are entering the bedroom singing and dancing. Hoseok, who is already awake and merely thought that you went for a shower, gawks at you with an open mouth and widened eyes. He even startled a little at first, still clutching his imaginary pearls.

“Happy birthday my Hobi babyyyy~ happy birthday to you.”

You stop by his side, grinning down at him. A purple birthday hat adorns your head. 

“Happy birthday, baby. I hope you’re hungry, I made you breakfast.”

Hoseok giggles, dropping into the sheets to kick his feet. He covers his face behind his hands, looking so adorable that you have to giggle with him. 

You love making him happy. Happiness suits him so well.

“Wow baby, I can’t believe it. This is perfect. I love it”, he gushes, sitting up so he could hug you. Very aggressively if one might add.

“Careful, the food.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry. Show me.”

You put the tray on his lap, eliciting another giggling fit from him. 

“I love it. Thank you. This is the best birthday ever.”

“And it is just the beginning. I have so much planned. So many presents to give you”, you say and lean down to hug him, giving him a big smooch as you do, “I’m gonna treat you like a king today, baby.”

Hoseok leans into your embrace, closing his eyes for it and squeaking giddily.

“Thank you so much. Wow, wait. I need to take pictures. And videos!”

“Do that, my cutie.”

Jimin

CW: hinted "night after" trope but make it flirty

He is supposed to stay in bed and let you surprise him. But of course he doesn’t. Although you made sure to sneak out before he wakes up, you suddenly find yourself in the kitchen with his arms around you and his chest against your back.

“Mhhm smells like breakfast. I’m so hungry already”, he purrs sleepily, using his lower register for it as his soft lips nibble on your neck. He rubs your tummy and waist softly, “what are we making?”

“You are not making anything, you are supposed to be in bed. Goddamn it, my plans are ruined.”

“What plans?” 

“I wanted to use your sleeping-in-tendencies to my advantage and make you breakfast in bed. But of course you have to wake up timely today.”

Jimin chuckles, kissing your ear. 

“I’m sorry. Last night knocked me out deep enough that I feel well rested.”

“Noted. I know what to do next time I want you to relax.”

“Please do, I’ll turn into your devotee.”

You chuckle, but tingle a moment later when Jimin sucks on your skin gently.

“Last night was amazing”, he purrs, kissing a path up to your ear so he could tickle it with his lips, “was it good for you too?”

“It was and you’re teasing”, you say, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. He feels so good.

“I’m not. I’m reminiscing.”

“You are totally teasing”, you laugh, “and you’re not supposed to. You’re supposed to go back to bed. I’m almost done.”

“But the kisses.”

“No buts. Breakfast in bed.”

“At least let me carry something. It’s the least I can do after ruining the surprise.”

“No. Back to bed now. I’m the one to romance you today.” You turn around and shove at his bared chest gently. “Hop, hop. I’m not asking again.” 

Jimin takes your hands and pulls them to his lips for a kiss, giving you flirty eyes.

“One kiss before I leave, to thank you for cooking.”

“Fine, one kiss. And then I’m sending your cute butt back to bed.”

Taehyung

He knows that you are awake, floating in a state between sleep and awareness. The sound of you doing something in the apartment is his background music, increasing the cozy state he is in. The bedroom windows are open, letting in the warm morning breeze. The curtains dance in the wind and the sun shines onto his skin. He isn’t wearing a shirt because he gets hot easily. The sun feels really good. Warm. It’s a nice, deep warmth. The kind of warmth which gets rid of muscle aches.

Life couldn’t get any better than this. You suddenly enter the bedroom and life actually does get better than this. A lot better. 

“Oh crap, your eyes are open”, you say, halting in your once confident steps.

Taehyung smiles at the view of you, “good morning.”

“Good morning, hey. You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you.”

“With what?”

You pull flowers from behind your back.

“For me?” he gasps and sits up, stretching his arms out to you. 

“Yeah for you. I meant to put them on the bedside table next to you, so you’d wake up to them”, you explain as you trott to his bedside and put the flowers on their planned spot. You pout.

“But they’re so beautiful. Don’t be sad.” He assures you in a soft spoken voice, holding your hand. “I love them.”

“My surprise though. It’s ruined.”

He kisses your knuckles, “no, it’s not. It’s the most perfect surprise ever.” 

“There’s even more.”

“More?” he sounds in disbelief, following you with widened eyes as you leave again.

“Soon.”

Taehyung gazes at the flowers while he waits for your return. His heart is racing. This is such a romantic surprise and he loves these kinds of surprises.

“Eyes closed”, you announce your return.

“They’re closed.”

“And no peeking.”

“I’m not.”

He listens to you come closer again, then suddenly feels a weight on his lap.

“Okay, open them.”

Taehyung instantly gasps, eyes wide and tummy bursting in butterflies. 

“You made breakfast in bed?”

“I did.”

“Darling, oh my god. I don’t know what to say. This is…wow, it looks so yummy.”

You climb onto bed and sit down next to him, picking up a little strawberry which you tipped into whipped cream. 

“Open up.”

Taehyung takes in the strawberry with the cutest, most adorable expression, sending your heart into overdrive.

“Gosh, I have the cutest boyfriend ever”, you gush, caressing his cute little cheeks. 

Taehyung scrunches his nose giddily, leaning into your touch. His eyes are sparkling. 

“Open up. I’m feeding your adorable butt today.”

Taehyung giggles, letting it happen with a racing heart. He loves when you pamper him.

Jungkook

You and he went out with his friends last night. It got late and the two of you got drunk. He stayed over at your place, sleeping with no shirt on and his hair a total mess. Judging by how loudly he snores, he must be sleeping very well. You slept well too, despite the alcohol. Luckily for you, or perhaps because of your clever precautions of drinking lots of water, you don’t feel hungover. Just hungry. Really hungry. But you are also lazy and don’t want to leave bed. You have been staring at your boyfriend obsessively ever since you woke up.

You are so lucky. He is so handsome and he was so lovely last night. He kept close to you at all times and made sure you felt welcome with his friends by always including you in the conversation. He even borrowed you his jacket when you got cold and held your hand as you walked home. 

Jungkook snores especially loudly next to you, startling himself awake with it. He lifts his head, staring at the sheets with empty eyes.

“Good morning”, you chuckle, ruffling his hair.

“Hmhornming isf imf snorim ismsloud”, he mumbles something unintelligible and drops into the pillow again. His eyes close. His lips part. He fell back to sleep. He is so funny without even trying.

“Okay, you’re a sleepy head. Guess I gotta eat without you”, you decide and roll out of bed. 

Breakfast is prepared quickly and you return with your tray of food. You just about sat down when Jungkook lifts his head again. He is frowning sleepily, pouting.

“Good morning. Again”, you tease.

“Food?”

“Yes, this is food.”

“For me?”

“Do you want food?”

He nods his head. You already knew that he wouldn’t last long next to the smell of food, but this is a new record of how quickly he wakes from it. Doesn’t matter, you already prepared his tray in the kitchen.

“Sit up then.”

Jungkook obeys, grumbling and groaning as he does.

“Hungover?”

“Little.”

“This should help. Here we go.”

“Thanks.”

You leave the room to get his tray (which is now your tray because you gave Jungkook the first one) and return to Jungkook munching on his breakfast happily. His hair is a mess and his eyes are still puffy, but he looks happy. And a lot less hungover. 

You get on bed next to him, halting in your attempt to eat when he stubs your arm with his fingers.

He is looking at you with the puppiest puppy eyes ever.

“Yes?” 

“Did I take your food?”

“No, I planned for both of us.”

“You can have more if you want to.”

“It’s perfect for me. Just eat, baby.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Eat, baby.”

Jungkook holds your hand, “thank you for this. And for last night. I really appreciate everything you do for me and I love spending time with you.”

“I love it too, baby.”

He squeezes your hand, “and I love you.”

“Wow, you.” You and he didn’t exchange the big L-word yet. “You really mean it?”

“I mean it. A lot.”

“Kook, wow. I love you too.”

[yoonia]

Sunset Glow | jhs

— As you accidentally stumble upon a reminder of the past that you have been slowly walking away from, you finally get to see Hoseok losing his resolve for the first time. It is now your turn to become his rock, and help remind him the reason why he has always been yours.

— title: Sunset Glow | pairings: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) x female reader | genre: angst, smut, past lovers!au, lawyer!hoseok, artist!reader, new beginning!au, with a bit of SciFi touch | word count: 13,678 words  

— story note: published as a part of In Bloom Collaboration with @kpopfanfictrash, @kithtaehyung, @syllviere, @leahsfavefics, @suga-kookiemonster, and @cybrsan; this story is also the final instalment/bonus chapter of my trilogy, Spotless Minds. Inspired by the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds, this story is set after the events revealed in the previous stories from the series. You can read this fic as a standalone, but feel free to go back and read the previous parts for more context (optional) if you need one!

— fic drop date: May 24th, 2025 | read on AO3 | main masterlist | mailbox | feedback | ko-fi | mdni divider credit | content creators: visual moodboard by @yoonia

— rating & warnings | +18 / M for mature; involves conversations about past relationship, mentions of mental health issues, memory loss, memory alteration—smut warnings under the cut!

smut warnings | this story consists of multiple explicit mature scenes, including: stripping/nudity, groping, making out, clothed sex, mutual masturbation, hair pulling, oral sex (female receiving), finger licking, cum tasting, fingering, breast play, nipple play, clit play, neck kissing, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, nudity, public sex, sex on a beach, rough sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, post-coital cuddle.

Hoseok feels like a fraud. And he knows what a terrible liar he is. 

For the past year, he has been acting tough for your sake. Despite his struggle in trying to cope with the past that he once lost and adjusting to the present life he is sharing with you, he always puts on a brave face, keeping his head held high and his shoulders straight so he could be the one that you could rely on whenever you needed strength. 

But, as time passes, he starts to feel the heavy weight of his secrets pulling him down. And he is beginning to feel like he is finally reaching his limit. 

Sooner or later, his mask will come off, and he needs to do something about it before it happens and everything that he has built falls into ruins. 

Sighing deeply, he lets his head fall back and looks up to the sky. The warm sun feels heavenly on his face, yet it does little to clear his mind. Something which he has been hoping to find by coming to this place the moment the cold breeze of winter is just starting to ebb away. 

He laughs to himself when he recalls the moment he first brought up the idea to visit this place at the first sign of spring, and your reaction to it. At first, you laughed it off, thinking that he was joking around. This time of the year has always been the busiest for him, after all, and you hadn’t expected him to suggest bringing you to this place when he has a million important things to care about. 

You may have never expected him to bring up taking another trip here until next summer. Or perhaps anytime later when the weather is brighter, the temperature is warmer, and both of you have less stressful matters to attend to in the city that you will be able to escape here once again. 

Sitting back on the sand, Hoseok looks over his shoulder to watch the beach house. The golden afternoon sunlight is reflected perfectly on the glass walls overlooking the ocean, the wooden frames are standing perfectly firm and still against the small hill rising from the beach line, the perfect image that he had pictured for so long. 

It was just last summer when Hoseok brought you here for the first time. 

The beach house of your dreams had just finished getting rebuilt; created based on the fractured memories that you both had of the past that you had once lost. 

Years and years ago, a different beach house stood in its place. The building was already crumbling—slowly decaying after years of abandonment and rough weather—and he had once believed it to be haunted. Still, that old abandoned house was a symbol of the day when the two of you met for the first time. The day he first found you and fell completely in love with you that he was willing to go through all the lengths he needed just to be with you. 

A couple of years ago, the memories he had of the old beach house and his first encounter with you ceased to exist. Then fate played its part to make sure that the two of you would come across each other again in your new paths, and slowly, those missing memories began to make their way back into his thoughts and yours in small fragments—a puzzle that you and Hoseok have been putting back together for the past year. 

Just like how the past between the two of you had dissolved with time, the old beach house that was part of that past had been left into nothing but dust and debris at the time Hoseok found his way back to this place. It took him some time, but he managed to bring the beach house back up, building it from scratch until it became this wonderful place that the two of you could call your own. 

Building the beach house was meant to be a symbol of a new beginning. A new place to build new memories in the future to replace the old, painful ones that you had both lost. And for the past year, that was exactly what you and Hoseok had accomplished. 

But memories have their own way of sneaking their way back in when least expected, even when neither you nor Hoseok had done anything to spark them back to the surface. 

Just like how it has been happening to Hoseok lately. 

With a deep sigh, Hoseok turns to look forward, straight across the widespread of the ocean before him and the warm spring sunlight. The waves are calm, a complete opposite to the ripples forming in his chest as more and more fragments of the memories that he once lost keep flashing in his head. 

Good memories. 

Painful ones. 

Even the ones that he wouldn’t have believed to have been parts of his life once, if only he hadn’t seen trails of evidence showing him that they all came from his past.  

The thing about losing memories is that you should have come out of it like a blank canvas. Only that his canvas was never truly void from the start.

Instead of a blank canvas, what he had gotten was one with fragments of concealed pictures waiting to be revealed. While he spent the past few years painting the new life which he was building with you, hoping to continue until his soul was whole, those little fragments slowly made their way to the surface, filling up the small voids that hadn’t been touched. 

Some of those images fit really well with his present life, adding all the missing reasons why he felt so drawn to you in the first place. While others seem out of place, causing him to start questioning his life—both past and present—and every single decision he has taken which helped him find his way back to you. 

Hoseok closes his eyes. He can still see the golden sunlight under his eyelids. Together with it comes another thought. 

Two years ago, when he first met you—for what he had thought to be the first time—he didn’t even know that he had memories that he had lost. Meeting you again may have triggered this to happen. And now, he is left with doubts lingering inside him. 

Not of his life. Not of you. Nor is it about the relationship that he has built with you. 

It’s the doubt he feels about himself. 

Doubtful of his choices.

His greed. 

“Are you okay?” is what you keep asking him every time you notice him growing silent, getting too deep in his thoughts—in his moments of deep reflection.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay when I have you here with me?” is what he would always say in return. 

A part of what he says to you is the truth. Yet he always feels like a liar. Because he is no longer sure if he is truly doing all right. And he has no idea how much longer he can lie to himself—to you—until the truth reveals itself right in front of his eyes. 

Hoseok has been struggling. 

You can tell as much just by looking at him. 

Despite his constant reassurance, and even when he tries his damn best to hide it behind his smile, you can still see it—feel it—when you are with him. It’s not like he is really hard to read in the first place. He’s always been so open with you. Has always been so transparent when it comes to his emotions, his thoughts, and his desires. But when it comes to his insecurities—

For the past year, everything between you has been going so well. Both of you have been doing fine, regardless of the circumstances. You can feel that you are both growing stronger together, the bond that you have is growing more solid as time continues to pass, and you manage to put the past long behind you.

At least, that is what you’d like to believe. 

Something must have happened. 

You have had this thought for a while now, ever since you noticed the changes happening in Hoseok’s moods. But you don’t have the heart to pry unless Hoseok chooses to share his troubles with you. You have been waiting for that moment to come for a while, yet he has yet to open up until now. 

With a sigh, you turn to look out the window. Ever since this beach house was built, you have always enjoyed standing here at the den, watching the picturesque view of the beach and the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. From up here, you can see everything. The white sand and the crystal water across the ocean look captivating, although you know that you wouldn’t be able to dive and swim or play with the waves as the season has yet to grow warm enough for it in early spring. 

You look down to the beach to see Hoseok, sitting with a towel beneath him, his eyes looking far away towards the ocean. It was an hour ago when Hoseok mentioned wanting to take a stroll down the beach while the weather is nice. You had initially wanted to join him, but the look you saw on his face made you realise that Hoseok might have needed some space. 

So you chose to stay behind at the beach house, taking your time to prepare dinner while you try to figure out how you are going to bring up the conversation. You can only hope that Hoseok can find some peace of mind while he is out there, enjoying the view of the ocean while basking in the early afternoon sunlight. 

Perhaps, later on, he would feel comfortable and relaxed enough to open up. 

Turning away from the window, you make your way back to the kitchen to check on the meal now cooking in the oven. But you come to a halt when something draws your attention. You turn to the television, which you had left on while you were cleaning and cooking to keep you company. 

Previously, the sounds coming from the TV had only become the perfect white noise, replacing the silence that you were left with after Hoseok stepped out of the house. Right now, the news is on, and what you see being shown on the screen is something that you cannot possibly ignore. 

“…no further development has been made in the court regarding the public lawsuit involving the medical research company, The Eden Initiative, and the people are now questioning the government…” 

Slowly, you move closer to the TV so you can hear more clearly. Your heartbeat picks up little by little as you continue to listen to the news report. 

“The Ventura Project, the main product of The Eden Initiative, rose to fame four years ago with the promise of helping its patients to overcome their past trauma, incurable phobia, and from terrible losses and bad memories, by taking away the patient’s memories, using new technology developed by their experts in neurology and human genetics…” 

Your body sways, and you carefully move to take a seat on the sofa and continue to watch the rest of the news report with a shaky breath leaving your lips. 

“…the public lawsuit was first brought to light when the revelation about the misuse of private patient data was exposed to the public by an inside source, and more lawsuits followed as former patients began experiencing lingering side effects from the treatment, including recurring health problems, both mental and physical, issues with short term memory losses, and former patients who are slowly gaining back erased memories, causing drawbacks in…” 

Exhaling a deep sigh, you slump back into the sofa. The news soon continues with a different report, yet you can barely hear the words being said when your mind has begun to drift elsewhere. 

You should feel relieved that you had at least found out a little bit of what had happened in the past between you and Hoseok before those past memories began coming back to you. At least the shock wasn’t so great when you started seeing the visions that blurred the lines between dreams and reality. But there is always a part of you that wishes you could remain oblivious, to stay blissfully ignorant of what happened to you, of what is happening in the world around you, and all the consequences that came after what you’ve done. 

But it was fate that came to you with mercy, just when you thought life wouldn’t be giving you any more surprises. Just like how it did when fate made it possible for you and Hoseok to cross paths for the first time nearly a decade ago, it had given you another chance to start over with Hoseok by aligning your paths once again years later—when both of you were finally ready to start over without all the hurt. 

Right at that moment, realisation dawns on you. Because you may have had the answers to your questions all along—that the reason why Hoseok has been troubled, why he has been so distant before this trip, and why he has found it hard to talk about his problems, has been you all along.

I caused it. 

I caused this.

It was you who first set everything into motion, to ignite the ripple effect of consequences when you first made the decision to run to that company years ago in search for a cure from your heartbreak, to find the chance to escape from the pain by allowing them to take away the one most precious thing you had—

Your memory. 

The temperature seems to have dropped quite significantly by the time you finally step out of the beach house. The sunlight still lingers, but a part of the sky is already beginning to transform into a warmer hue as the sun is making its journey down towards the horizon.

Hoisting the small basket that you are carrying against your hip, you walk down the stairs going down the rocky hill below the house to reach the beach. You make a quick stop at the small cabana at the foot of the hill to drop the basket and set everything up—a bottle of wine in a cooler bowl, a container filled with snacks and fresh fruits—before turning away to find your fiancé. 

Hoseok is still sitting on the same spot. Still with his towel spread beneath him, his toes sinking into the sand as he stretches out his legs, looking a bit more relaxed than he was before. His shirt has been tossed aside, and you can see his skin growing a warmer, slightly tanned shade from sitting under the sun for too long, despite it not being summertime just yet. Yet he shows little care about it. He doesn’t even seem to notice it, too deep in his own thoughts, his eyes still drawn towards the ocean as if he is seeing something out there that you cannot see. 

Seeing him like this bothers you so much, and you are determined to do something to make things right again. Taking a deep breath, you begin to march your way across the sandy beach to reach him. 

“You know that you’ll need to reapply the sunscreen on your skin if you want to stay under the sun this long. The weather might still be cold this time around, but the sun in this area is a bit strong for springtime,” you gently tease Hoseok as you join him on the blanket, sitting close beside him. 

Hoseok turns to look at you with a warm smile spreading across his face. It doesn’t seem enough to hide the hollowness still lingering in his gaze. “I didn’t notice that much time has passed.” 

“I’m not too surprised. You seemed to be thinking so hard, you probably wouldn’t have noticed me coming out here if I didn’t say anything.” 

Chuckling softly, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Have you been watching me?” 

Your cheek warms just as he presses a kiss on the side of your face. “You know I’ll always be watching.”

You are just about to lean in and return his kiss when Hoseok winces. His eyes grow wide as he catches sight of his skin, noticing the reddish tone that has grown around his back while he was buried deep in his thoughts. The sound of his laughter makes the inside of your chest stir with relief as Hoseok laughs at himself. 

“Here, let me help. This should calm your skin.” 

Hoseok remains seated on the towel with his legs crossed while you slip to his back. Gently, you rub the cooling lotion that you picked up earlier on his skin. You can feel his muscles slowly relaxing under your touch, his head lulling back as you add a light massage against the knots you find around his back and shoulders. You have hoped that this might help ease his tension, although you cannot help but feel affected by the contact at the same time. Your body warms as you press your fingers into his skin, and each soft hum and moan he is making is starting to make your stomach stir. 

“Does that feel good?” 

He chuckles. “It would be a lie to say I’m not enjoying this.” 

“That’s good,” you whisper softly to him as you slowly press a kiss on his shoulder and sit back with him. “If you’re feeling better,” you start, smiling when you notice his eyes growing a bit brighter when he pulls you back to his side, “Mind sharing your thoughts?” 

Hoseok laughs, and the melodic sound coming from him draws a smile to your face. “So that’s what this is, huh?” 

You give him a sheepish smile and shrug. “I know you’re hiding something from me,” you say, not caring about it if you seem to be too straightforward about it, but it’s better than having your lover clamming up again. “I’m getting worried.” 

The smile on Hoseok’s face seems to dim its light, but it doesn’t seem to carry the same sadness that you have been feeling coming from him as of late. You kiss his cheek, hoping that it can help motivate him to share his troubles with you. 

“Talk to me. Let me in.” 

With a deep exhale of breath, Hoseok closes his eyes and nods. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” he says. His voice is soft, yet it only seems to add the weight in your chest that takes an effort to ignore. “How much more of your memory have you gained since last time?” 

You purse your lips. “Not a lot, and mostly, when I do get some clear visions, they are only good ones, yet nothing as clear as the ones I initially got about us,” you tentatively answer. 

It’s not like you have been trying so hard to remember, or to deliberately find those missing pieces of the puzzle, which would be able to help you understand your past. Even if you wanted to try and do it yourself, your body would fight against you. The ache you feel in your head would be unbearable, that you would often avoid trying to think much of it. 

Considering this, you bite your lips and turn to Hoseok. “Have you been gaining more memories since the last time?” 

Ever since the memories you both lost started coming back, you and Hoseok have always shared everything—the bits and pieces of the past, the visions, sometimes comparing them to recognise which parts of them were real and which ones were not. 

“Not exactly, it’s just—” 

You can feel his hesitation rolling out of him. So you lean into him and offer gentle support by wrapping your arms around his middle. He takes his time to choose his words, though it seems more like he is having trouble revisiting his troubles rather than finding it difficult to share his secret with you. 

“I know that we promised not to let our past haunt us, or to let everything that happened, everything we did, keep hanging above our heads so we can continue living and focusing on he future,” he finally starts, and you nod, remembering the promise you made with each other once you both uncovered the hidden truth behind your relationship. 

The real truth which explained why it had been so easy for you to be with Hoseok, even from the very first meeting. 

Because your meeting with Hoseok nearly three years ago hadn’t been your first, and your chance encounter may not have been such a coincidence at all. 

“Lately, as more memories kept coming to me, I’ve been having some thoughts,” Hoseok continues, making you curious and wary at the same time. 

“What kind of thoughts?” 

Hoseok takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips. He bids his time, kissing your knuckles before he answers, “Thoughts about how I must’ve failed you.” 

“Hoseok—” 

“No, hear me out,” Hoseok stops you from saying anything with a kiss. “These memories—they play out in my head like broken frames of a movie flashing in my mind.” Again, you nod, because that is exactly how it has been happening to you, too. 

“We may not feel any emotions from it, but it still got me thinking. Maybe the real reason why you had to go through such lengths just to heal yourself was all because of me.” He turns to you with a sad smile as he continues, “because I wasn’t strong enough to help you ease the pain you were suffering.” 

“No.” You start shaking your head. Even your heart is denying it. It was never his fault. It was yours. “That can’t be right. I was the one who made the decision to—” 

“You were hurting, in pain, and there was nothing that I could do to help you go through it.” He keeps talking as if your words don’t matter. “And when I failed, you—” 

You have no idea what comes over you, but as you listen to the tremble in his voice, you slowly lean in, pressing your lips on his to stop him from speaking. 

To make him stop reliving his hurt. 

You have no idea if this would be enough to eliminate his doubts, but you are willing to do anything—everything—to take away his pain. Because, in the end, you do owe it to Hoseok since you were the one who put him in this situation in the first place. 

You remember it well now that everything has come back to you. 

It was never Hoseok’s fault. You couldn’t handle the pain of losing Hana—your estranged best friend, the one who you once treated like your own sister, someone who once was a huge part of your life. You couldn’t handle the guilt of knowing you had a part in her choice to deal with her struggles alone, somewhere far away from the people who loved her. 

All because she had loved Hoseok, and because she couldn’t handle the fact that not only did Hoseok never looked her way, he went chasing after you instead. 

So when you received her things the day after her funeral and found out that Hana was in the process of erasing her memories as part of her ways to return to you, the decision was made. 

That you were going to do it in her place as your punishment. To erase everything about your past life with your best friend and your life with Hoseok from your memory. It was your way to move on. 

It was immature. 

Impulsive. 

Stupid. 

And now you harbour a new guilt of realising the pain you instilled in Hoseok for what you’ve done.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against his lips, voice trembling as the guilt continues to wrap its cold fingers around your heart, “I’m sorry for putting us both in this whole situation. I’m sorry for making you go through something like this. I should’ve known how much pain I would’ve caused—I should’ve realised how difficult this whole situation must be for you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was,” he answers with a smile. The same smile that you love so much, whether it’s in the present or the past. “My pain and insecurity are something that I need to deal with on my own.” 

You look deeply into his eyes and finally understand. “You’re afraid,” you whisper, once you realise what has truly been haunting him. 

“I’m afraid of failing you again. What if the next time you’re hurting and I can’t help you—” 

“There will be no next time,” you argue, cutting him off before he gets deeper into his sorrowful reflection. Turning to him, you cup his face between your hands and force him to look you in the eyes as you speak, “The next time something major happens, I won’t run away. I’ll turn to you, just like I’ve always been clinging to you, and we solve it together.” 

Swallowing down a sob, you think about how lonely you have been feeling lately, with the distance growing between you when he pulled away from you. “I can’t lose you again.” 

“I should be the one to say that,” Hoseok says with a sad smile. “If there is one thing that my memory serves me right, it is to remind me of how painful it was to lose you. How bleak my life felt to not have you by my side.” 

You suck deep breath and whisper, “You have me. You will always have me.” 

Hoseok’s smile softens. He takes your face between his hands, tenderly brushing his mouth along yours before kissing you with nothing but love and admiration. Everything inside you melts the moment you give in to the kiss; his lips feel soft and warm, breaking every doubt and worry while giving you more resolve. 

“Thank you,” Hoseok whispers against your lips, before pressing another kiss, a softer one, which is filled more with contentment. He pulls away with a soft sigh, yet remains close, keeping his forehead resting against yours. 

“You should’ve come to me,” you murmur to him, “Didn’t we promise each other to be open about this? That whenever we feel lost and afraid, we’ll let each other know so we can work things out.” 

He looks at you with guilt simmering in his eyes. “I know, and I was planning to tell you everything,” he says as he pulls back. “I just needed time to process my thoughts before I could.” 

You keep your eyes on him, feeling wary about him pulling away again. But the look in his eyes doesn’t change, much to your relief, and it gives you the courage to ask him more about his plight. “Something triggered this, and I don’t think it’s as simple as getting your memories back the way you usually do,” you wonder openly while pressing your palm gently on his cheek so he won’t look away. 

Hoseok takes a moment before answering your question. 

“Remember when we decided to destroy all mementoes reminding us of the past?” You nod, wondering why he is bringing this up. “Well,” Hoseok reaches into the pocket on his folded shirt and pulls out two small items that draw your attention. Your breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh. Not in a good way, because you know what they are. 

Hoseok spreads out the crumpled card in his hand to show you, just as you are starting to wish that you are seeing it wrong.

“I was cleaning up my office while looking through some old papers. I thought for sure I had everything cleared out and tossed away, if not added into the pile we burned the last time we were here.” 

Your breath is caught. Your throat feels tight. His voice slowly fades away as you read the content written on the card—

“Dear Mr. Jung Hoseok, Ms. _______ has had Mr. Jung Hoseok and Ms. Min Hana erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to them again. Thank you. The Eden Initiative.”

“I suppose we finally have the answer as to why I never received the card.” Hoseok lets out a bitter chuckle, and you remember him revealing the way he seemed to find out what you did—when he accidentally found the card that was meant for his assistant, Wooyoung, to receive back when you first went through with the procedure.

“They did send it to me. I just never found it. Must’ve come in together with some paperworks and got mixed up in them without me noticing.” 

Swallowing hard, you put the card away and turn your attention to the box in his hand. Covered in navy blue velvet, the box looks fancy and slick. This isn’t the first time you've seen it—if your memory serves you right. The first time was the day you visited Hoseok in his office, and that box sat on top of his desk, and he was looking at it with his eyebrows creasing. A question of how and where that box came from lingered on his lips and in his mind, with neither of you ever figuring out how that box had ended up in the box of Hoseok’s old files that he kept from his previous office. 

“Hoseok—”

You didn’t expect him to have that box with him today. Seeing it again now still sets nothing out of you. Not a recollection. Not an emotion. Nothing that may mirror the look that you see in Hoseok’s gaze as he keeps his eyes on it. 

“Have you finally remembered what it was about?” you tentatively ask. 

Hoseok’s eyes are downcast when he lifts the box and gently opens it right in front of you. Just like the first time you saw what’s kept inside, your breath is caught, now more so when the snowflake pendant inside the box sparkles in your eyes, the diamonds catching the afternoon sunlight and gleaming beautifully.  

“I may have bought this right before everything happened.” Hoseok begins to explain, his voice is gentle, slightly hesitant, as if he isn’t completely sure about everything that he remembers to this point. “I believe I was thinking about proposing to you. But the timing wasn’t right, so I bought this to show you how grateful I was to have you in my life.” 

Your mouth feels bitter. An ache forms in your chest. You know exactly what he means. 

It’s hard not to think about what happened then, even if your memory isn’t completely whole. Your heartbreak, your best friend’s passing, your complete meltdown that came when you couldn’t handle all the pain, and then your swift decision to take everything away to put it all to a stop. 

“You’re right. The timing wouldn’t have been right,” you respond with a sigh. It pains you to think about the life that you lost, the hope shattered, leaving this beautiful pendant meaningless. “How did you miss not giving this away?” 

Hoseok shrugs and lets out a low chuckle. “I have no clue. Maybe I was just being clumsy and forgetful,” he says, “Or maybe, deep down, I didn’t want to let this go.” 

You tilt your head. “Because it was too expensive?” you tease him with a smirk, making him laugh. 

“That could be it,” he says, chuckling softly. His reaction to your teasing manages to wipe away the sadness you saw earlier. His eyes twinkle when he looks at the pendant, not with the same gloom you’ve seen, but more with a curious look. 

“What should we do with this?” Hoseok asks you while tilting the box side to side, allowing the gleam to flash across your face. “Do you want to keep it?” 

You have no idea what to answer and bite your lip. The life forgotten feels like a different timeline of your life the more you try to look back, with or without the memories that you lost. A life so unfamiliar with you that you no longer feel it as yours. 

“I already have a ring that says we are in this together for the rest of our lives,” you finally say to him once you’ve gotten the answer, lifting your hand to flaunt the diamond ring you are wearing around your finger. “Let’s release this one into the wild.” 

Hoseok laughs. “It’s illegal to litter the sea, precious.” 

“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want it to end up inside the stomach of some random fish or turtles any more than you do,” you argue while rolling your eyes, once again drawing the sound of Hoseok’s laughter, “Let’s bury it somewhere up the hills. Young kids love to stroll out here, don’t they? Maybe someone would dare enough to venture through the cliffs, have some intimate moments and be lucky enough to find it,” 

The corner of Hoseok’s lips lifts to a grin. He knows exactly what you are insinuating, and he knows just the perfect place for it. 

The special place where the two of you made love for the first time right after you met had been one of the first things he remembered. The place where your story with Hoseok began; the perfect spot at the end of the beach, hidden between the rocky hills and the jagged rocks protecting the beach from the intense waves. It would be the perfect place to bury the last memento taken from the life that you both have left behind. 

“Fine. Let’s do that,” Hoseok says, sighing. He leans closer to press a kiss on your forehead. “Shall we do it now while the sun is still up?”

Walking further towards the end of the beach makes you feel like you are walking back in time. 

Eight years ago, you walked down this same beach while holding Hoseok’s hand and getting to know each other for the first time. You hadn’t known it then, but that encounter and the impulsive decision to run away with him towards the rocky end of the beach had changed the trajectory of your lives forever. 

Perhaps it was indeed fate that the two of you met that night. 

Just like how fate made you find each other again once all the hurt was gone, and both of you were ready to open your hearts again. 

Deep in your thoughts, you almost fail to realise it when Hoseok suddenly stops. You turn to ask him if something is bothering him when his arm comes around your back. He holds you against him before bending down, helping you get out of your sandals, before slipping his other arm under your knees and lifting you off the ground. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” 

“I think I remember something like this happening then,” he calmly says to you as he begins walking again with you in his arms, your discarded sandals dangling on his fingers. 

You feel ridiculous, being carried like a child this way, but there is nothing you can do but laugh it off. You do have a faint memory of him carrying you in his arms like this across the beach, only the circumstances had been completely different then. You were both younger, a bit more wild, and were driven completely with lust, that nothing else seemed to matter other than getting to the place where you could hide together. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you cling to his chest. His firm hold on your body makes you feel safe, comfortable, and warm; a feeling that you remember well to have overcome you that night. “Aren’t I heavy?” 

He scoffs. “This is nothing. You may not remember it,  but I think I struggled more back then compared to now.” 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and giggle softly. “I think I remember, but I didn’t pay much attention then. I got my mind on other thoughts at the time.” 

Closing your eyes, you can almost see yourself going back to that night. Back to the time you felt warmth in your chest for the first time because of Hoseok’s smile, and when that warmth lit up like an inferno when he lifted you up in his arms and took you away from the beach house—not the one you have now, but the old, worn-down building he once believed to be haunted. 

And he wasn’t carrying you in the same elegant way he is doing it now, but rather have you clinging against his chest, your legs wrapped around his body and your arms around his neck, his palms holding you steady while your lips were entangled in a deep, passionate kiss as he took you all the way down to the edge of the beach. 

As if Hoseok is seeing the same memory, he starts to slow down and presses his lips to yours. The gentle kiss he gives you easily makes you melt into him. You ease into it, pressing against him as he laps your lips and slips his tongue to get deeper until your breath grows ragged. But it only lasts for a brief while, because Hoseok pulls away just as he comes to a stop. 

“Here it is,” he whispers against your lips. 

“What?” 

Hoseok bends down and gently lowers you to the ground, your toes sinking into the sand. He turns you around, and you finally get your answer. 

You are now standing at the end of the beach, the jagged rocks standing in front of you, breaking the strong waves before they get to hit the rocky cliffs at the side of the beach. Hoseok slides behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as he points at the spot between the rocks where the water doesn’t reach, and a bed of white sand lies undisturbed. 

A smile plays on your lips when you recognise the hidden spot. A vague memory that came back to you through your dreams once your life entangled itself with Hoseok once more. 

“This is where we first made love.” 

Hoseok presses his lips on the curve of your neck, and your body shudders. The heat rising in your body brings you back to that night; when Hoseok laid you down between those rocks, right at the small patch of sand you are now eyeing on, with him covering you with his body. 

“Do you want to relive that night? Slide between those rocks and have some fun times, without having to fumble around in the dark this time?” Hoseok teases you with a low voice, his lips grazing on your skin, then on your ear, while his fingers are rubbing at your sides. 

Your head falls back as you laugh. His tease not only brings back the heated moment you shared back then, but also the silly things that also happened then; the awkwardness you felt, bumping and crashing against each other while making sure the sand didn’t get into the crevices you wanted safe, and the condom that escaped from your fingers before you got the chance to make use of it. 

“There’s no time for that, silly,” you say to him, swatting his hand away before it gets too close to your covered breast. “It’ll be harder to deal with burying the stuff once it gets dark.” 

You turn to see Hoseok pouting. “Fine, let’s get this over with. The offer still stands while we’re still at the beach,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You roll your eyes at him and push him on the chest. “I’ll make sure to remember.” 

Hoseok steps back and helps you put your sandals back on before taking your hand in his. Fingers interlocking with one another, Hoseok leads the way to leave the jagged rocks behind and towards the nearest hill. You take one last glance at the hidden spot that becomes the witness of your past, before turning and walking in step with Hoseok. 

Sand clings to your feet as you leave the beach, crossing the narrow path winding up the hill. The ground rises just a tad bit higher than the hill where the beach house is tucked on, with more private villas waiting on top of the rocky side of the cliffs. Instead of getting closer to them, Hoseok takes you on the opposite side of the hill, where the ground is softer under tufts of wild grass tickling your bare ankles. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask him as he leads the way towards a line of rocks bordering the hills. 

“I’m not sure. I’m just following my instincts,” he says with a chuckle, and you recall learning that he used to travel to this place long before he met you years ago. Perhaps his body remembers what his mind is unable to. Something that has also happened to you more than once. “This seems to be the perfect spot.” 

He stops behind some rocks rising from the ground. You look over, and the sight of the hidden crevice between the jagged rocks at a distance below is visible. “Oh, nice,” you comment before you start laughing, “How much would you bet someone was standing here that night and saw us getting it on right there?” 

Hoseok grins at you. “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” 

Moments later, after laughing off the fact that neither of you had thought of bringing a shovel with you, Hoseok finishes digging up a small hole fit enough to bury the pendant by using a sharp rock that he found nearby. He opens the velvet box to take a look at the pendant one last time, while you lower yourself to your knees to do the same. 

“One last time to change your mind. Are you sure that you don’t want to keep it?”  

You look at the pendant with a smile on your face. The snowflake pendant covered in diamonds looks beautiful, and you can imagine yourself wearing it one day during one of Hoseok’s lavish events. But what good does it do to have something beautiful when it carries nothing more but painful memories? 

“Positive,” you answer him with a kiss on his cheek. “We promised to create new memories, didn’t we? I think I’m fine with letting it go.” 

It seems so simple, to bury an object that was somehow linked to your past, just to get rid of it. You have talked about taking other options during your walk here, whether to sell it back or to pawn it, but neither option seemed final, and nothing that may symbolise burying a piece of your past—the same way you’ve burned the other mementoes just months ago when you first acquired them back from the company that had taken your memories away. 

No paper trails left behind, just a mark on the ground, somewhere not too far from where you’ve found your beginning.

Hoseok smiles. “All right, then.” 

“Do you think someone will actually find it one day?”

“Maybe.” Hoseok shrugs. “This path isn’t completely hidden, and I remember being a kid, digging through dirt around my childhood home while playing treasure hunt with my sister.” 

You take one last look at the ground once the box is buried and turn away from it, ready to leave everything behind. “Let’s go back and relax until it’s time for dinner. I’ve brought a bottle of wine and some snacks back when I came down to the cabana. Maybe we can stay and watch the sunset for a while.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Your steps are lighter on your way back to the beach house. The closer you are back home, the more you can feel each weight, the lingering tension, and the dark shadows of the past haunting both you and Hoseok slowly shredding away. 

By the time you are back at the beach connected to home, the sun has moved slightly closer towards the horizon. There is still enough brightness in the sky to let you enjoy the view of the ocean as you leisurely stroll down the beach, close enough to the waves but not close enough to feel the splatter. 

But the steady waves seem too inviting to ignore, and with the long-winded stress no longer weighing you down, you are feeling slightly playful. Just as Hoseok reaches out for your hand to take you back home, you playfully push Hoseok towards the water, just in time for a big wave to come rushing in.

But Hoseok always seems to know what you are up to; always the one to be able to read your mind. Your push startles him for merely a second, yet he is quick to recover. Instead of falling back, he manages to avoid your hands and grabs your wrists instead. He swiftly turns and, in turn, pulls you back until you are the one standing between him and the incoming wave. 

“Oh my God!” You let out a screech the moment the wave strongly hits your body. The water quickly soaks through your summer dress and your exposed skin, causing you to shiver intensely as you clearly weren’t ready for the water to be as cold as ice as it hits your skin. 

“I told you not to get too close to the water,” Hoseok mocks you, laughing as he pulls you back into his arms and away from the waves. 

You wrap your arms around yourself as you shudder in the cold, but you cannot stop laughing, your head falling back when you scream, “I forgot how cold it would be.” 

“You are a mess. Come here,” he says, shaking his head, before lifting you up in his arms to carry you away. He starts sprinting as he hurriedly takes you to the cabana, hoping that he can quickly help you dry yourself up. 

“You seem to enjoy carrying me so much,” you muse, noting how he has been carrying you around more than usual. “I could get used to this, you know.” 

He presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “I don’t mind it. I like taking care of you,” Hoseok says, with a glint in his eyes that makes you feel giddy. He sets you down once he reaches the cabana and turns to look for a clean towel between the covers. His smile grows wider when he notices the basket that you left behind, with the bottle of wine sitting in the cooler. 

“Cheese and crackers with wine? How fancy,” he teases you while wiggling his brows. “But let’s get you dried up first, okay?” 

Hoseok turns to take a seat on the edge of the cabana and reaches around the bedding to find a clean towel. You watch him move around as you stand at the foot of the cabana, water dripping down your hair and summer dress, while white sand clings to your legs. Your eyes scan across the cabana, studying the white beddings and cushions that have been laid there for your comfort. 

The impromptu excursion you just had leaves you feeling tired and weary, and there is nothing more that you wish to do but to stretch your legs under the shade with Hoseok while enjoying the refreshments that you’ve prepared as you wait for the sunset to arrive. Looking at it now, a different idea crosses your mind. 

As Hoseok turns back around to hand you the towel, you strip out of your summer dress, leaving you covered with nothing more than the pair of bikinis that you had slipped on earlier before running out of the house. You toss the soaked dress at Hoseok, who catches it with a sly grin on his face. A gleam of amusement lights up in his eyes as he sits back, silently guessing what you are up to. 

“Look at how wet I am,” you murmur. You look down at yourself and start running your hands down your body.  

Lifting your gaze back at Hoseok, you notice him watching you with an intense look on his face. There is hunger in those eyes, one that spurs you on to tease him a little bit more. Just a little. 

You move your hands upwards. Your bikini top has gotten soaked, your nipples poking through the thin fabric, and you cup them with your hands. With a gentle knead, you press against your soft flesh, and then graze your thumbs across your covered buds. 

You can feel his gaze following every movement of your hands and fingers, and it’s making you feel hot inside, knowing that he is completely drawn to you. His chest rises and falls, and you can tell that what you are doing is starting to be affecting him; the hard tent forming on his covered crotch shows enough of how much he is enjoying this. 

“You did this on purpose,” he says with a small smirk, his eyes—which had been haunted in his silence—now have a glimmer of his usual mirth in them. 

“Who? Me? And what makes you say such a thing?” You feign innocence while dropping your arms gently to your sides, opening yourself to him before stepping closer until you are standing between his parted legs. 

"Come here and let me help you,” he says, as he pulls you gently onto his lap and has your body turned to face the beach while he holds you still. His bare chest feels warm against your back after basking in the sun for all afternoon, yet it feels calming, allowing you to relax into his embrace, unknowingly awakening something else that is burning inside his chest. 

Every good intention that he had when he first pulled you into the cabana quickly evaporates the moment your body moulds against him and relaxes under his touch. With one hand resting on your knee, Hoseok parts your legs, allowing him to slide his other hand down to your hips. With swift fingers, he tugs the knots tying the small triangle bottom together until it falls off your hips and tosses it away. His hand comes back to your center once he is done, slipping between your folds to find your swollen bud and capture it between his thumb and index finger.  

Almost immediately, your head falls back against his shoulder while you let go of your inhibitions and release a few moans, responding to every circling motion he makes. Hoseok takes it all in, astounded at how easily he can entice the sounds you are making and the tremble surging down your body with just a simple touch right on your bundle of nerves.  

“Nothing ever changes,” he murmurs, with his eyes completely captivated by the sight of you getting wet under his touch, and the way you are slowly writhing against his chest. Your bare bottom starts rubbing against his covered hard-on, spurring him on. “Always so responsive to me.” 

“Because”—you gasp softly—”it’s you.” 

At your words, Hoseok pauses and lifts his gaze to look closely at your face. It feels like time simply stops when he makes no move, no sound, though you can still hear the echoing sound of waves coming from all around you, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat vibrating out of his chest and onto your back. 

You look over your shoulder, nearly losing your breath when you notice how intense Hoseok’s gaze looks. Disbelief is written all over his face, as if he needs a moment to understand your words. 

“It’s always been you, Hoseok. You’re the only one who can make me feel this way.”

Hoseok’s gaze changes. Every bit of doubt, insecurity, pain, and those little bits of despair he carried with him throughout this trip fades into a deep, strong desire that feels so potent that you can feel it emerging from his entire body, and there is the heat you have always felt from him when he is showing you his love. 

As if your words are the spell that he needed to break away from the walls confining him and the shadows of the past that have been haunting him. 

Hoseok places his hand on your chin, turning your face so he can kiss your lips. The kiss is slow and tender, yet needy at the same time. A claiming kiss that is filled with heat and passion, with less hunger than the usual ones you’ve shared before, yet it still makes your heart race.

Slowly, you feel him moving, lifting your body in his arms and turning you together before he lays you down on the soft cushions. A small giggle slips out of your lips, amazed at how easily he is able to handle you. 

Once you are lying on your back, Hoseok follows by moving on top of you; his hips resting between your parted legs, his chest enveloping yours, while his mouth quickly captures yours to continue kissing you until your mind is filled with a blissful fog that makes your cheeks flush with warmth. 

“And it’s always been you who makes me feel—everything,” he sighs as he pulls back from the kiss. His lips are swollen from the kiss and from the light grazes you gave him with your teeth, but it’s the look you see coming out of his eyes that has you breathless, and then he makes the insides of your stomach do a quick somersault when he says, “You’re the only reason I’m alive.” 

“Hoseok—” you sob softly, with your tears threatening to fill the corners of your eyes. 

Seeing this, Hoseok leans down, pressing his lips across your eyelids as they flutter close for him, kissing your tears away before they have any chance to fall. With a hum, you lean forward to him, the sound quickly changing into a gasp when you feel his gentle fingers pulling the knots holding your wet top until you feel it falling off your skin. 

“This needs to go,” he whispers, “Don’t want you to feel cold.” 

Humming softly, you cup his face with your hands and whisper to him, “Then please warm me up, Mr. Lawyer.” 

Hearing your words, his eyes are filled with a flicker of recognition. Your voice, and every word you just gave him, are an echo coming from a small part of the past that he will always remember as the beginning of it all. Then his gaze grows heated, knowing what those words had done to him many years ago. 

With your wet bikini top tossed aside, Hoseok leans down to press his lips on the curve of your neck, while his hand moves to cup the underside of your breast. A gasp slips out of your lips as you feel his fingers pressing on your skin, bringing warmth to ease away the cold. Hoseok traces his lips down your chest, gently capturing one bare nipple between his mouth while his fingers start moving to rub around the other until you feel them both hardening under his touch. 

Your chest arches upwards to chase his mouth and his touch. You feel him humming against your skin, and then his tongue lashes across the hardened nub, drawing the sounds of soft mewls slipping out of your lips. 

Hoseok releases your nipple from his lips with a pop and smiles down at you. “Warm enough?” 

“Not quite,” you groan softly, “I need more.” 

A lot more, because the heat has gone down to your center. You can feel the pulsing blood gathering between your legs, and you wish for nothing more than to have his touch to relieve you from it. 

“Is that so?” Hoseok chuckles, “Then I guess I’ll have to work harder.” 

You open your mouth, ready to beg him for it. His hands come down to your hips just as you start rocking against his body, holding you still. With the words hanging at the tip of your tongue, you open your eyes to look at him. 

And then you see it—the familiar look of hunger and desire coming out of his eyes that does things to your heart and your body. He smiles at you and slowly climbs his way back up. He weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back, and then he moulds his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss, feeling the need for him rising the more he devours your mouth, and the more you feel his heat coming out of his chest. 

Your mind becomes hazy as you melt into the kiss, and you instinctively follow him when Hoseok gently pulls away. You almost whine when you feel him leaving you, taking the heat away as he steps back to stand on the foot of the cabana. But every protest you wish to say to him disappears in your tongue when you see the look in his eyes, knowing that he isn’t done with you yet.

You keep your eyes on him as you lie back down, relaxing against the cushions while trying to control your breath, only to nearly lose it again when Hoseok slowly pulls down his swimming shorts, revealing his hard-on that you previously felt pressing against your back.

Your heartbeat races as you watch him standing there, completely bare, while openly admiring your body while he has a firm grip around his hard cock. His eyes grow darker with need as he starts stroking himself, his hand flexing around his girth as it glides up and down his length. The sight has you licking your lips, wishing that you could have him inside your mouth, that you could lick the heavily swollen tip and have his taste on your tongue. 

Whatever is holding him back from pouncing on you only makes you grow impatient. He seems unable to decide whether he wants to take his place right between your legs or let you put your lips to good use, knowing what you have to offer. 

So you decide to put matters in your own hands, giving him the initiative that he needs to make up his mind. Keeping your eyes on his, you put a finger on your lips, acting as if you are telling him to keep quiet. 

Once you gain his full attention, you part your lips and dip your finger in, giving it a slow, long suck, while he falls into a trance, watching you with his jaw dropping and his hand moving slower, nearly coming to a stop mid-stroke when you pop your finger out. You continue giving him a show, licking the underside of your digit with a soft moan of delight escaping your lips. 

He knows that you are teasing him, giving him a little preview of what you would do to him if he lets you. Seeing him utterly mesmerised pushes you to become a little more brazen.

Leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbow, you move your hand down from your lips, tracing down your bare breasts and the curves on your body until you reach dangerously close to your center. His eyes continue to follow the motion, definitely not missing it when you slip your hand between your legs, your wet finger slipping between your folds, disappearing into your depths with a heartfelt moan leaving your lips. 

As if he has become completely entranced, Hoseok pauses mid-stroke. His eyes grow wide as he watches your finger sink deeper, entering right where he wants to bury himself the most. Then you start moving your hand, sliding your finger in and out, showing him just how much you want him with how slick you have gotten since he first touched you. 

The sound of your slick arousal fills the cabana with each thrust of your finger, while your wetness makes itself known each time your finger slips out, completely coated with your arousal. 

With the sound that he is subtly making, the low grunt that escapes him even as he clenches his jaw to hold himself back, it is clear that he wants you just as much as you want him inside you. 

Another moan slips out of your lips when you touch a spot within you that sends your whole body trembling. It snaps him right out of his trance, and Hoseok moves right back up onto the bedding within a blink of an eye, taken over by his clear desire. His grip around his cock has tightened and he starts giving himself a few hard strokes to ready himself for you. His free hand finds your knee, keeping your legs apart for him before he reaches out to your center. 

One moment you are pushing your finger inside your heat, the next minute you feel a tug that snaps your eyes open, only to jolt in surprise when his finger slides in to take over, substituting your more delicate finger that is now slipping right between his lips. 

“Hoseok—” 

A gasp escapes you when he sucks your finger clean, all while humming as he savours your taste in his mouth, while he pushes his finger in, moving slowly and diving deeper while your pussy throbs and pulses around him. His longer and stronger digit quickly finds your sweet spot and swipes over it, massaging it gently until you are writhing under his touch while he continues to lick the remainder of your arousal off your finger. 

“Does this feel better?” he questions you with a gruff voice as he curls his finger inside you, making you shiver every time the pad of his finger is pressed against your sweet spot. He pulls his hand slightly when you fail to answer, adding another finger to test out how well your pussy is wrapping around him. As he pushes his way back inside, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing it gently until you start rolling your hips and pressing against him, welcoming more and more of the pleasure to ignite inside you. 

“Oh…hmm,” you keep on humming, unable to respond with words when he continues to do all the wicked things with his fingers that render your mind numb. It feels amazing, even if you still have to admit that it isn’t enough to satisfy your need. 

As always, Hoseok seems to be in tune with your feelings. He finally grants your wish as he slowly lowers his head, burying his face between your thighs. He draws your attention back to him when you feel his lips pressing at your folds, and then he brushes his mouth against your clit, capturing it in one slow nip before his tongue slips out and swipes across it, drawing a sharp cry out of your lips. Your hips rise from the bedding when he does it again, nipping and licking, tasting every drop that spills from your wetness while he drives his fingers home, slowly building up the pleasure with his delectable rhythm. 

The sweet hum of appreciation that he is giving you while he remains latched on to your center only makes you tighten your thighs around his head, holding him in place just as your muscles are clenching around him at the heightened pleasure. Your hand slips down to find his hair and tug at him, urging him to move, while your other hand grabs hold of the cushion for leverage. 

“Use your words, babe,” Hoseok hums against your heat, “Tell me what you need from me.”

With a whine, you lift your head to look down at him. “Do you really want to hear me beg?” 

You watch his lips spread into a smirk. “I’d love nothing more,” he murmurs, before his lips return to your heat to give your clit a kiss. 

“Hoseok,” you call for him, your voice rising as his lips reconnect with your core. His tongue continues to twirl around your swollen bud while he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, bringing you closer to the peak. “Please—I want you!”

“Impatient, are we?” he teases you with a deep chuckle, though it is hard for you to answer him quickly when his fingers are still moving fluidly in and out of you, distracting you with the pleasure pulsing with each movement. “Relax, baby. Enjoy this first. I know you’re feeling good right now.” 

You are feeling more than good. It feels amazing, and you can already feel it coming; the coil in your stomach tightening as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your climax, yet not quite there yet. You want the pleasure to last, but you also want so desperately to feel your final release. 

“Hoseok, baby. I need to cum…,” you cry out to him as you grind your heat against his face. “I’m so close…!” 

“Then come for me,” Hoseok grunts, before he captures your clit and gives it a suck, while his fingers dive deep, pushing you over the edge. 

“Oh, God…that’s it,” you moan as you feel the waves of your release toppling you over. 

“Don’t hold back, baby. That’s it. Good girl,” he hums against your throbbing clit as you rock your hips against his face, his tongue keeps flicking out in between. He repeats it a few more times as he feels your legs quaking around him, swiping across it once, twice, then he captures the tender flesh between his mouth to give it a hard suck, one that is enough to send your body arching off the bedding and your hips pushing down onto his face.

As the tremors of pleasure spread through your body, you clutch his hair tightly and press his head further into your groin, demanding more. He gladly complies with your silent request, increasing the rhythm of his thrusting fingers until you cannot hold back, and your body erupts the moment you let go and allow the waves of your release to come forth. Your hands tug harder into his hair as your body convulses against him, nothing else holding you back from embracing your climax. 

Despite not getting everything you wanted just yet, you cannot deny just how good he makes you feel, just by the touch of his fingers and the sinful work of his mouth. It feels so darn good that it takes a while for you to come down from your high. He is also responsible for making it harder for you to come out of your blissful fog when he has yet to unlatch his mouth from your throbbing pussy. Then he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, replacing them completely with his tender lips, and that helps your mind to focus, noticing the emptiness that not even his delicate mouth could rectify.

“Please, Hoseok—” you beg him when you cannot take it any longer; when you want him so badly that it hurts. “I want you. Now. Fuck me now.” 

Hoseok’s mouth vibrates around your clit as he chuckles softly. He pulls back, releasing your throbbing nub with a small pop before he starts climbing his way on top of you. At first, you are too mesmerised by the sight of his beautiful face, tainted by the wet glow forming around his mouth and chin after he drank every last drop of your release. And then, with a smile, Hoseok starts licking his lips, making a whole show of cleaning himself, even licking his wet digit clean from the remainder of your sweet nectar. 

“You were so bad for teasing me earlier. You made me want to have a taste,” he hums softly, before leaning down over you. He runs his hand down your thigh, coaxing you to relax while he slides into position between your parted legs. “And you do taste so good.” 

“I want to taste you too,” you whisper with a sigh, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

“Another time,” he groans while quickly catching your hand just as you start reaching down between your bodies so you can touch him. 

His answer makes you pout, and you are just about ready to complain and beg so he will let you take him deep in your throat so you can taste him. But as he shifts to align himself right at your center, you finally realise why he wouldn’t let you. With his hands propped on either side of your head, buried into the soft bedding beneath you, Hoseok dips down, pushing his hips to meet yours, and you are pleasantly surprised to feel his cock brushing against your pulsing core. You are pleased to find that you have worked on him so well that he has grown just as impatient as you have been, when you feel his hard cock pulsing against your heat. 

“See? It would be a terrible idea if you took me in your mouth right now. I need you so badly it almost hurts,” he murmurs with a deep groan as he rocks his hips, his rigid cock sliding between your slit, drawing small tremors through your body. “I need to be inside you, baby.” 

“Then why didn’t you say so?” you tease him as you loop one of your legs around his hips, pushing him down on you, which has Hoseok raising his brows. “What? I’m only trying to help.” 

Hoseok chuckles and says, “Of course you are,” just as he follows your lead.  

“Now get on with it,” you snap at him while lifting your hips, pressing harder against his length. 

“I should spank your behind to teach you a little bit of patience,” he threatens with a taunting voice while his hand reaches down and cups your bottom, making you wiggle your hips when his touch makes everything inside you tingle. 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“It’s a promise,” he whispers with a deep voice as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing you to feel it as the wide tip of his cock parts its way in. 

You can feel every delightful brush and tight spread as he steadily dips inside you, taking things slow as he buries himself inside you. Seeing you unable to respond, when your voice rises to a sharp cry before fading down to a moan, Hoseok halts for a moment, waiting until the pulses clutching around him start to subside. 

A sigh slips out of you when you finally grow lax, and you press your heels right underneath the soft globes of his ass, telling him that you are ready. That is when he begins to move. 

He starts with an unhurried pace, backing out slightly before proceeding again, advancing further and going a little bit deeper with each thrust. He repeats it until he starts getting deeper, and deeper, taking his time claiming you with each delicate inch he gains while teasing you, knowing that you are silently demanding more. 

Wet and coated with your arousal, his cock becomes slick enough to ease his way inside you until he is fully buried deep within you. So deep that you can feel its tip pressing against your depth, and you can almost feel his presence deep in your belly. It feels overwhelming, and yet you want more.

But he still keeps his rhythm agonisingly slow, prolonging the rise of your pleasure as it comes surging through your body. It puts you on the edge, the desperate need to reach the peak of your pleasure overcomes you, and you begin to move, pushing your hips against him so that he starts moving faster. Still, Hoseok refuses to give up control as he puts his weight on you, pressing his hips on yours to pin you beneath him, with no chance to move and take over.  

“Relax,” he whispers with a raspy voice. “What are you such in a hurry for?” 

You look up to him, your voice coming out as barely a whimper when you try to answer him, to start begging for him to move, to start pounding hard inside you. You know that not only is he teasing you, but he is also testing your patience. And it would have worked, if only he hadn’t gotten you so worked up and so needy. 

Feeling defiant, you decide to return the favour. If he thinks that he could restrain you and control everything, then he has another thing coming. With your eyes on him, you focus on clenching your inner muscles around him, putting all the hours of morning exercises you’ve been getting into to good use by restricting him from moving deeper without it being clamped down. 

Hoseok falls forward, unprepared to have you clamping down on his shaft. Grunting against your neck, Hoseok stays still for a moment before he instinctively starts pressing against the constriction, as if showing you that nothing can stop him from getting what he wants and when he wants it to. 

As he starts to push back inside, the feeling of him stretching your tightened muscles and slowly breaking through the constrictions that you impose on him only allows you to feel just how hard he is and how fitting he feels inside you. And it feels so good. So darn good that you cannot resist the moan escaping your lips as he rubs against your pulsing walls. 

As he continues exerting pressure against you, sparks of pleasure begin to rise inside you, building up slowly until you can feel yourself reaching another peak before you realise it happening. 

It doesn’t take long before you give in, unable to resist the temptation that you simply allow him to get his way. Slowly, as the pleasure takes place, you focus on relaxing underneath him, allowing your muscles to grip and quiver around him on their own without you making it happen. Now that he is finally moving, finally giving you exactly what you want, you refuse to allow him to tease you again and make you wait. 

You just got to have him all. 

As he slowly presses forward, you press your feet into his thighs and take the remainder of his length in one fluid motion. With one strong pull, you draw his body into you, and the hard tip of his cock hits the deepest part of your walls with force until your whole body trembles under the pressure. 

Your muscles spasm around him as Hoseok starts moving in a steady pace, your pussy clutching on him as he slowly starts picking up his pace, his thrusts growing harder with each cry you are giving him. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he hisses against your neck as he draws back, easing out and sinking all the way back in. He doesn’t look away as he continues rocking his hips, each thrust stirring up the rush of pleasure inside you, unfolding them like tiny waves that keep building up, more and more as he continues moving in and out of you. 

You close your eyes briefly, savouring the moment and the feeling he ignites within you. Then you start rocking your hips around him, getting a good feel of how he is stretching you nicely and pounding inside you in the perfect rhythm that sends you to the peak of bliss.  

Your body flinches when his cock hits hard into your depth, drawing a strangled cry from your lips. It brings him to a pause, a deep concern written on Hoseok’s face when he looks at you. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Hmmm—more than okay,” you answer him as you buck your hips into his, and you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Don’t stop. Keep moving.” 

With a soft chuckle, Hoseok lowers himself to cover your body with his, then his lips descend so he can kiss your bare shoulder. A moan slips right out of your lips when you feel his cock sliding in and out of you once more, though he proceeds to pick up his pace, steadily rocking with longer and stronger strokes before he starts moving faster. 

You raise your hands, finding his shoulders to hold so you can steady your body against the force as he keeps driving into you with unadulterated passion. Your body shivers uncontrollably as the pleasure keeps rising, building up so fast that you find yourself moulding against his body as you are teetering right at the edge. Just when you feel the first coil of your coming orgasm, the deep sound of groaning and grunting that he has been making becomes louder, and his torso seems to tense against your body, signalling his final release. 

Hoseok grabs one of your legs by the underside of your knee and lifts it up, opening you further as he drives deep. A sharp cry leaves your lips when you feel him hitting deep, his pouncing growing harder, each thrust he is giving you causing intense tremors all over your body. 

You are too far gone at this point, with your body burning hot, and you are panting with short breaths at the quick build-up of warmth that overcomes you, moments before your whole body contracts as you are pushed into a toe-curling orgasm that knocks your breath away. 

Feeling your release pulsing around him sends Hoseok over the edge. You can vaguely hear the sound of his laboured breathing beyond the sound of your pounding heartbeat as he increases his rhythm further, drilling his cock inside you in search for his own relief. You can feel him reaching his peak as he sinks deeper into you, giving you a hard shove that rocks your body roughly beneath him, before the warmth coming from his release fills your insides. 

He continues to move in slow, short thrusts before slowing down completely to a halt, prolonging both of your orgasms for a while longer before he falls over your body, completely spent. 

“That felt amazing,” you hum breathlessly while stroking his sweat-covered back. For a moment, he gives you no answer. The only thing you can hear from him is his rough breath and the sound of his heartbeat pumping against your chest. It takes a moment for him to sober up completely, to finally come down from his high and look up to see your face again. You give him a bashful smile, feeling him still buried inside you and your body still joined together in the most intimate of ways. 

“You are amazing, baby,” Hoseok mutters, while running his gaze down your exposed body, his eyes lingering briefly on your heaving chest before returning to your face. 

He takes this moment to look at you closely, questioning you with concerns lathering his voice, “Okay, baby?” 

With a soft sigh and a breathless chuckle, you simply nod. “More than okay.” 

You can obviously tell that you have a dopey smile on your face right now, but you have no energy to care at the moment. At least it seems to give Hoseok some sense of relief when he sees it. His own smile is spread on his face when he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before he slowly pulls out of you. A few drops of cum follow his exit, falling into the soft bedding beneath your body and wetting your inner thighs. The sensation you feel of his warm cum oozing out of you and your walls pulsing in his absence seem to light up a new desire, as you enjoy having a reminder of his claim all over your body and inside you, although you are too spent to ask for more than a cuddle. 

“You are such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he reaches out to grab the forgotten towel, ready to continue his work on cleaning you up, including the mess that he just helped create. 

“You made the mess," you tiredly complain, "And you love it.” 

“That I do,” Hoseok hums against your lips as he kisses you, making you melt into his warmth once again with nothing more than a feeling of contentment. 

Hoseok covers you with his shirt once he is done—once he deemed your clothes is completely unsalvageable. And you remain entangled with each other in the cabana until the sun slowly dips into the horizon, brushing the sea with a soft amber glow while leaving a trace of purple hue up in the sky. 

It’s a magical sight that ignites a myriad of emotions blooming deep inside Hoseok’s chest as he draws you into his arms. 

As Hoseok watches the descending sun, he feels his own light slowly expanding within. As if the sunset represents the departure of the very last bit of his anguish about the forgotten past, allowing nothing else but hope to bloom in its place. 

Tomorrow is a new day, he silently tells himself. 

Both of you may not have gotten a completely clean slate to start over. The missing pieces of the past will no doubt continue to haunt you both as the two of you continue going forward. But Hoseok no longer fears the future that is coming for him. Not after you have managed to bring all of his broken pieces back together. 

Unspoken words fill his mind, and then you manage to steal his words further when you lean back, resting your head on his strong shoulder and let out a deep, contented sigh. “I love you, Mr. Lawyer.” 

Hoseok smiles. The silly nickname that you’ve given him—both in your past life and in the present—has always done things to him. “I love you too. Always,” he whispers, burying his face on the curve of your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms, holding you close as he embraces the present and the promise of tomorrow. 

— ©Yoonia, 2025. all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[greenxgloss]

In honor of Mona Lisa can we get a jhope fic please Mona Lisa inspired ofc😔👉🏾👈🏾

A/n: so sorry for how long this took but ohhhh my god I loved writing this lmao this was good. it was also lowkey intimidating to write this bc I kinda had to write "mona lisa" as closely as hobi describes her in the song but I think I did a pretty good job lol I hope you loved this!!

Mona Lisa, Yeah I Need Ya (Jhope)

Summary: After a painful breakup, Y/N cautiously reenters the nightlife scene, where an unexpected encounter with the charming Hoseok awakens new desires and challenges her emotional boundaries. Themes: softdom!Hobi, PleasureDom!Hobi, Independent!Reader, Self-Possessed!Reader, Fem recieving oral and fingering, protected sex, alcohol consumption Word Count: 5.2k

It had been a few months since the breakup, and by the second month, you had started to feel like yourself again—steady, clear-headed, no longer unravelling at the sight of old photos or mutual playlists. Still, you decided to lay low a little longer. There was no rush to be social again, no pressure to be seen. You gave yourself the space to rebuild in peace, focusing on self-care, solitude, and the small comforts that often go neglected in the wake of a relationship’s slow erosion.

The breakup itself hadn’t been dramatic—no screaming, no infidelity, no grand exit. If anything, the ending mirrored the relationship itself: quiet, slow-burning, and far too polite. You’d both simply drifted apart, pulled in different directions by work schedules, emotional needs, and that inevitable, unspoken disinterest. He had been distant for months, and though you'd noticed, you had never demanded answers. You didn’t issue ultimatums or stage a last-ditch confession. You were composed. Stoic, even. So when he ended things on a mild spring evening while the sunset painted your apartment in gold and coral, you simply nodded and offered him a drink before he left.

He had been neglectful, true—but mature enough to do the leaving himself. You didn’t mention that part to anyone. Too considerate. Too loyal, even after the fact. It’s a quiet tragedy: how often women swallow the discomfort in favor of appearing unbothered, offering their partner a gentle exit in the name of dignity. “If you don’t love me anymore, just say so.” But that wasn’t the line you fed him. You simply let go.

By the fourth month, the fog had lifted entirely. And when your best friend Gissele texted you an invite to a party at one of the city’s most talked-about clubs, something in you stirred. Not apprehension—readiness. Excitement, even.

There was a dress hanging in your closet you hadn’t worn yet—bought during an impulsive shopping trip when you’d told yourself you would have something to dress up for eventually. It was sleek and unapologetically bold, black silk and structured seams, still crisp with tags. Tonight was the night.

You and Gissele entered the club hand-in-hand, laughter already dancing on your lips as blue and violet lights swept over the crowd. The bassline of the music thrummed in your chest. A kaleidoscope of bodies moved across the floor, sweat-slicked and electric. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—the ritual of getting dressed up, the chaos of the night, the sense of belonging to your own body again.

“I am so ready,” you said with a grin, glancing at Gissele.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she teased, dragging you toward the bar. The two of you settled on stools, giggling as you sipped pink Whitney from dewy glasses.

“I’m glad you came,” she added, more serious now, swirling her drink. Her honey-brown eyes shimmered under the strobe lights, and her hot pink lacefront framed her face like a crown. Gissele never did subtle. That’s what made her so magnetic—every movement was intentional, every outfit a declaration.

“I just needed time,” you replied softly, shrugging. “To recalibrate.”

“I get it,” she said. And you believed her.

One of the many reasons you adored her was that she always made you feel safe. She had an eye for detail, a sixth sense for shady behavior, and could destroy a creep’s ego in seconds flat—all without smudging her lipstick. She was your shield, your chaos twin, your anchor.

Tonight, her look was a statement of its own. She wore towering white platform boots that wrapped just under her knees, layered shredded tights in blush and fuchsia, a silky white slip dress, and a structured harness that gave her an edge of danger. She looked like she’d stepped out of a cyberpunk magazine. In contrast, your style was more refined: a black dress with asymmetrical ruffles and heeled boots. Romantic. Reserved. A perfect foil to her explosive palette.

“I swear to god, the men here are insane,” she whispered, eyes scanning the crowd. “Wait—yup. That one’s staring at you.”

You blinked. “Which one?”

But she was already gone, abandoning her stool with a laugh and a wink. “Have fun,” she called over her shoulder, leaving you alone with your drink—and, apparently, under observation.

You didn’t have to wait long.

A few moments later, a hand gently brushed your elbow. You turned, startled, only to meet a pair of warm, expressive eyes and a mouth curved into a smile that was as soft as it was knowing.

“May I buy you a drink?” the man asked, voice velvet-smooth. He slid into the seat beside you—the one Gissele had left vacant—as though it had always been his.

You looked at him—really looked. The subtle shine of sweat on his brow, the warm bronze undertone of his skin, and the twinkle of his grill as he smiled, catching the light like a constellation. Elegant, refined—and yet there was a hint of mischief beneath his charm.

“I’m still working on this,” you said, lifting your half-full pink Whitney and licking the corner of your lip, as if to test his reaction.

A rejection, technically. But not a closed door.

His smirk widened just slightly, like he understood the game. “Fair enough,” he replied, his eyes not leaving yours. The air between you shifted, magnetic. He didn’t press—but he didn’t leave either.

You crossed one leg over the other, sitting up straighter, aware of the way his eyes briefly flicked down and back up. “Your friend seemed eager to disappear.”

“She saw you coming,” you replied, letting a slow smile curl your lips. “Thought she’d give us a moment.”

“Smart woman,” he said, clearly amused.

“I’m Y/N.”

You extended your hand, and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles—light, gentlemanly, deliberate.

“Hoseok,” he said. “Pleasure.”

You felt your stomach flutter—ridiculous, you told yourself. It’s just the alcohol. But you knew better.

“Is this your usual scene?” you asked, easing into conversation, trying to keep your tone casual despite the way his presence kept pulling your attention like a gravitational force.

“I show up when I feel like dressing up and flirting shamelessly with beautiful women,” he replied without a trace of irony. His gaze locked with yours. “So tonight, yes.”

You laughed. “That a line you use often?”

“No,” he said, “I save it for when it’s true.”

The banter had an easy rhythm, but it was laced with a sincerity you weren’t prepared for. He wasn’t just trying to charm you—he meant what he said. Every compliment had weight, every glance held intention.

And still, there was no pressure. Just presence. Just a man leaning in slightly, his fingers ghosting the rim of his glass as he listened to you speak. You told him about your job, your last girls’ trip, your recent obsession with 90s R&B. He told you about his travels, his work in dance and music, his deep affection for old vinyl records and lavender-scented candles.

The two of you slipped into a corner booth after the second drink. The crowd pulsed on around you, a blur of motion and noise. But the space you occupied felt insulated—separate, private, like a soft secret between the two of you.

He leaned closer.

“You have a way of being still in chaos,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. “It’s... rare. That calm.”

You raised a brow, caught off guard by the poetry in his tone. “You talk like that to all the girls?”

“No,” he said again. “Only when I mean it.”

This time, the blush crept to your ears. Hoseok watched the shift in your expression with barely concealed satisfaction, like a man who knew the power of words and wielded them carefully. He didn’t reach for your thigh. He didn’t try to kiss you. But every movement, every word, made it clear: he was interested. And he was in no hurry. This wasn’t conquest—it was intrigue. And the longer you sat with him, the harder it became to look away.

“Come dance with me,” he said, standing and offering you his hand.

You hesitated only for a second before slipping your fingers into his, letting him guide you onto the floor. The music shifted to something sultry and slow, the kind of rhythm that curled around your limbs and made the space between bodies feel charged.

And when he placed his hands—gentle, respectful—on your hips, guiding you to move with him, you felt the heat settle into your skin.

Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol after all.

The music thrummed low and seductive, a steady rhythm that seemed to sync with the beat of your heart as Hoseok guided you into the tangle of swaying bodies. His grip was light at your waist—two fingers resting just enough to suggest control without taking it. You settled into the tempo, allowing yourself to relax into the motion. He moved close, not too close, but close enough to feel the heat of his body through the thin black silk of your dress.

“You dance like someone who doesn’t come out often,” he murmured, leaning just enough that his breath stirred the strands near your ear.

Your lips curved. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said smoothly. “It means I get to watch you rediscover it.”

You turned your head to glance at him, amused and a little intrigued. “And what exactly am I rediscovering?”

His eyes flicked down, just once, before settling back on your face. “What it feels like to be wanted.”

That one hit deeper than you expected. But you didn’t falter. You just tilted your head with a coy, polished smile, like he hadn’t just said something that made your stomach twist with heat.

“Is that what this is?” you asked, voice even. “You wanting me?”

“Undeniably,” he said.

A beat passed. You looked away first, the corners of your mouth twitching upward in unspoken amusement.

He didn’t press. Instead, he shifted closer—so slowly it was imperceptible at first. His chest barely grazed yours now, and his hand had migrated, palm resting against the dip of your spine. He kept the movement subtle, his other hand lifting to brush a stray hair from your cheek, fingertips skimming along the line of your jaw. Polite, still. But loaded.

“So,” he said, voice smooth as honey, “what brings you out tonight? You don’t strike me as someone who comes here for the drinks.”

Your gaze flicked up to his, your brow lifting. “I could say the same to you.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the push and pull. “Touché. But I asked first.”

You paused, just for effect, before answering. “I needed the reminder that I still exist outside my apartment. Outside my routines.”

“A reawakening,” he said, the word drawn out thoughtfully, like he was tasting it.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, hand pressing a little more firmly against your back now. You stepped forward slightly to keep your balance, and he didn’t move back. Your bodies were close enough now that you could feel the bass of the music reverberating between you.

“And the dress?” he asked, eyes sweeping over you again—but not lewdly. Thoughtfully. “Bought for tonight?”

“No,” you replied, tone playful. “It’s been waiting in my closet for months.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling faintly. “Then I feel incredibly lucky.”

You raised a brow. “To see it?”

“To be the reason it came out.”

Your laugh was soft, reluctant. “You’re smooth.”

“I’m honest,” he corrected. “And observant.”

His hand drifted just slightly lower, the heat of his palm lingering now at the curve where your spine met your hips. You felt the warmth climb your neck, but your expression remained neutral—poised.

“You move like someone who doesn’t just dance,” he said. “You move like you know exactly what kind of attention you command.”

Your mouth parted slightly, caught off guard by the comment, but you recovered quickly, tipping your head in mock consideration. “Is that a compliment?”

“It’s a fact,” he said, voice dipping lower, lips brushing dangerously close to your ear now. “And a turn-on.”

This time, the flush threatened to betray you. Your stomach coiled with something sharp and satisfying, and though you didn’t respond immediately, your eyes met his again with that same unreadable smile.

He searched your expression, but you gave him nothing—just subtle amusement and polished restraint. That only seemed to intrigue him more.

“You’re good at this,” you said at last.

“At what?”

“This slow burn thing. Drawing people in.”

“I could say the same to you.”

A silence settled between you—thick, charged. His hand still rested against your lower back, and your arms had looped, almost instinctively, behind his neck. There was no distance left between your bodies. You were moving in sync, slow, deliberate, the music now secondary to the tension blooming between you.

You leaned in slightly, voice low. “I should probably check on my friend.”

Hoseok glanced across the floor, spotting Gissele leaning against a far wall, already deep in conversation with two girls and laughing over something shared on a phone screen.

“She looks... occupied,” he said, then turned back to you. “But if you want to leave, I’ll walk you both out.”

You studied him for a moment. His posture, his ease, the way he never once made you feel boxed in despite the magnetism between you. He didn’t ask for anything—but the possibility hung heavy in the air.

You took a breath. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

There was a pause—brief, electric.

“My hotel’s nearby,” he said, simply. No edge, no pressure. Just suggestion. “If you’d like to keep talking somewhere quieter.”

“Talking,” you echoed with a knowing smile.

His own smile widened. “I did say I was honest.”

You didn’t answer right away. You turned toward the crowd, eyes finding Gissele again. She caught your gaze immediately and raised a brow, already knowing. You mouthed something across the distance—going to head out—and she responded with a wink and a thumbs up before returning to her new entourage.

You turned back to Hoseok.

“Well,” you said, brushing invisible lint from your dress and adjusting the strap on your shoulder. “Lead the way.”

He offered you his hand again—this time not for the dance floor, but for the descent into something far more intimate. You took it without hesitation.

As the two of you exited the club, the air outside wrapped cool around your legs, balancing the heat that still lingered across your skin. Hoseok pressed the hotel’s location into his phone with one hand, the other still cradling yours like it was second nature.

And all the while, you walked beside him, steady, unreadable—but your pulse betrayed you, thrumming in places he hadn’t even touched.

Not yet. Not quite yet.

The elevator ride was quiet at first. Not awkward—just charged. A kind of silence that hung heavy between you both, weighted by everything unsaid but fully understood.

Hoseok leaned back against the elevator wall, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other running through his dark hair as his eyes traveled over you again, unapologetically this time. The overhead lighting softened his features, casting delicate shadows across the sharp lines of his face. His bottom lip caught slightly between his teeth before he spoke.

“You know,” he began, voice lower now in the confined space, “I wasn’t expecting much tonight. A few drinks, some polite conversation. Maybe a dance.”

You arched a brow, arms folded loosely, your smile just barely present—soft, knowing.

“But then I saw you,” he continued. “And you were… still.”

Still?

“Everyone else was moving, talking, laughing. But you were just there. Still and deliberate. Like you didn’t have to do anything to be seen.”

He pushed off the wall just slightly, not closing the distance between you, but enough to shift the tension in the air.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply. “But it’s something else. Something about you makes me want more than just tonight.”

You tilted your head slightly, lips pressing into a faint line of amusement, not revealing much. Your posture hadn’t changed—you remained poised, calm, with that same unshakable grace—but the warmth that bloomed in your chest betrayed your exterior.

“I’m not saying I’m expecting anything,” he added, quickly but not nervously. “I mean that. I just want to talk to you. Maybe get to know what it is that makes someone like you walk into a place like that and look like you already own it.”

You glanced sideways at him. “Smooth,” you said, your voice light but your eyes sharp. “Again.”

His grin deepened, dimple flashing. “Told you—I’m honest.”

The elevator chimed, and the doors parted.

Hoseok stepped out first and held the door without needing to look back, like it was muscle memory. You walked past him with that same unbothered elegance, and he fell into step beside you as the two of you moved down the hall toward his room.

Once inside, he didn’t rush. The suite was wide and open, the lights dimmed low and the view of the city glittering through the glass balcony doors. You made your way there without needing an invitation, pushing them open and stepping outside into the night air.

The wind was soft, almost warm, carrying the sounds of distant traffic and nightlife up to the high floor. Hoseok joined you moments later, two glasses of something amber in hand—he offered one to you silently, and you took it without comment.

The silence returned, this time more companionable. The city stretched out before you in every direction, glittering like it existed just for the two of you.

“So,” you said, finally. “What brings you here?”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, sipping from his glass before replying. “Work. Mostly.”

You nodded. “What kind of work?”

He turned to you, leaning one elbow on the railing. “Creative consulting. For artists. A little bit of choreography. A little bit of producing.”

Your brow lifted slightly. “That’s vague.”

He laughed, the sound quiet and unforced. “It is. That’s on purpose. I’m not really supposed to name names.”

You hummed. “Discretion. That’s attractive.”

“And rare,” he said, eyes flicking to yours again. “But I don’t just come here for work. Sometimes it’s a reset. Different city, different pace. New people.”

You sipped. “New distractions.”

“Maybe.” He glanced sideways at you again. “You don’t seem like one.”

You smirked. “No?”

“No. You feel more like a disruption.”

That word hung in the air between you.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, resting your elbows on the railing, letting the wind lift the ends of your hair. The glass in your hand caught a glimmer of moonlight, casting tiny golden flecks onto the concrete floor beneath you.

He watched you. Carefully. And when you looked back at him—slow, deliberate—his gaze didn’t shift away.

You held it.

That’s when the space between you shortened.

He didn’t move all at once. Just a step, and then another. His hand rested lightly on the curve of the railing beside yours, knuckles brushing your wrist.

“I’ve been trying not to stare,” he said, almost under his breath. “But you make it hard.”

Still, your smile didn’t waver. You simply turned your face toward his, eyes locked, unreadable.

The kiss was inevitable.

It didn’t happen in a rush—it happened in the quiet pause between glances. His hand rose to touch your cheek, thumb trailing just beneath your bottom lip, eyes watching the way your mouth parted the slightest bit at the contact. He didn’t ask, didn’t need to. When he leaned in, your lips met in a soft, exploratory kiss—slow at first, like the two of you were testing gravity itself.

When you didn’t pull away, when your fingers found the lapel of his jacket and held him there, he deepened it.

The glass in your hand tilted dangerously. You broke apart just long enough to set it down on the balcony table, then turned back to him with a heat now undeniable in your eyes.

He took your hand, no words this time, and led you back inside.

The room was cool, draped in shadows and city light. He paused at the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning your face once more.

“You’re sure?” he asked, quiet now.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his neck. “If I wasn’t, you’d know.”

That was all the permission he needed.

“I want to take my time with you,” he whispered, voice velvet. “Is that alright?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you let your hands slide beneath his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders in one smooth motion. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

Hoseok’s hands were reverent, moving to the hem of your dress but not lifting it—yet. First, his fingertips traced along the fabric, following the curve of your hips, the line of your thigh. His palms flattened over your sides as he leaned in again, lips brushing just below your ear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back,” he said, exhaling slowly. “How much I’ve wanted to touch you like this… see how far I can push you before you ask for it.”

You inhaled slowly, your lips parted in the half-light, but your expression stayed controlled—poised, as ever. “I don’t ask.”

And that thrilled him.

He knelt then, lowering himself with grace until he was eye-level with your thighs. Your breath caught—not from nerves, but from the gravity of the gesture. The way he looked up at you, hands now sliding under the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric slowly to your waist, was enough to make your knees threaten betrayal.

He pressed a kiss to your knee. Then higher. Then higher still.

“Sit back,” he said, voice quiet but firm, “and let me make you feel good.”

You obeyed without speaking. Still wordless, still elegant—but when you leaned back onto the bed and rested on your elbows, your eyes stayed locked on his.

The pleasure was slow at first.

His mouth on you was deliberate, exploratory, taking his time with every flick, every suck, every drawn-out breath against your most sensitive skin. His hands pressed down on your thighs—not to hold you still, but to anchor you. To remind you where you were. With him.

You bit your bottom lip, hard. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of the noises building in your throat.

But Hoseok could read the tremble in your thighs, the subtle curve of your back arching slightly more with every languid sweep of his tongue. He didn’t need the moans—you were giving him everything already.

He pulled back just briefly, lips slick, eyes hooded with restrained desire.

“You're doing so well,” he praised, voice rougher now. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

Your lashes fluttered, mouth finally parting with a soft gasp as he moved back in and kept going—more confident now, more focused. One of his hands slid up to hold your waist, feeling the way your stomach tensed and relaxed with every wave of pressure he delivered.

And when you finally let your head fall back and exhaled a soft, trembling moan—he smiled against your skin.

It wasn’t about power, not really. Not domination in the way most understood it.

It was about control—his of himself, and yours of how far you’d let go.

You came undone in his mouth, tension bursting like light behind your eyes. Still elegant, still quiet—but shaken in a way that made your hands reach for his shoulders, grounding yourself as you rode the high out in stunned silence.

Hoseok rose slowly, reverently, kissing the inside of your thigh one last time before pulling you gently up to meet him.

He kissed you again—slow and soft—like he wasn’t trying to erase what just happened, but let it linger.

“Not done with you,” he whispered into your mouth.

Then he stood, reaching back to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. “But only if you let me keep going.”

You smiled.

A real one this time. No teasing, no mask.

“Go ahead,” you said, voice soft but steady. 

He stepped back just enough to pull the shirt from his shoulders, the faint light catching on the hard lines of his chest and the soft sheen of sweat that had started to gather at his collarbones. Every movement he made was fluid, unhurried, as though undressing in front of you was its own performance—one he wanted you to watch.

And you did. Reclined now against the plush pillows, one leg slightly bent and the other stretched long across the bed, you watched him like art. Quiet, composed, with only the slight tug of your bottom lip between your teeth giving you away.

Hoseok crawled back onto the bed, his hands brushing the sides of your thighs as he moved over you. He leaned in to kiss you again—slower this time, deeper. Like he was memorizing your mouth.

“You taste like my name,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “And now I want to hear it.”

Your lips curled in a small, knowing smirk. “Then earn it.”

He laughed softly—low, rich, aroused. “Oh, sweetheart…” he exhaled, trailing his mouth along your jaw, “I already am.”

This time, he didn’t rush. He took his time laying you bare—unzipping your dress with care, helping you shift out of it like he was unwrapping silk. His hands explored in unhurried strokes, tracing the dips and curves of your body with open admiration. Every glance he gave you was appreciative, worshipful, but not the least bit cloying. It was honest. Hungry, but controlled.

He kissed your sternum. The curve of your breast. The space just below your navel. His hands pushed your thighs apart gently, and when you let him, you saw the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

He spent the next while reacquainting himself with you—like a second act to the performance before, only this time slower, deeper. His fingers were skilled, precise, coaxing out reactions you tried to smother, and his mouth followed wherever your body arched.

"That's it..." he whispered against your skin, lips brushing your inner thigh. "Just like that. Let go." His fingers gently reach deeper.

You were close again—faster this time. You could feel your composure slip, inch by inch, but not in a way that embarrassed you. It felt safe, wrapped in the cocoon of his body, his words, the sheer focus he gave to your pleasure. “Hoseok.” You nearly whined, surprising yourself.

And when you did come, he didn’t rush you through it. He kissed your trembling thighs as they shook, gently massaging your hips with open palms. His voice stayed low and sweet.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Every sound, every breath—you’re fucking perfect.”

You were still catching your breath when he hovered above you again. The weight of him between your legs felt like gravity—solid, anchoring. He was hard, thick against your thigh, and you could feel the tension in him, the restraint.

He kissed you again—deep, open-mouthed, and a little desperate this time.

You pulled back just enough to look at him.

“Your turn.”

That same smirk from earlier flickered on his lips. “Only if you still want more.”

You nodded slowly, letting your hand trail down between your bodies, fingers brushing over the outline of him through his pants. “I want it.”

Those three words flipped a switch.

In seconds, he was out of the rest of his clothes, and you were guiding him back between your legs. He ripped open a metallic packet and rolled on a condom. He pressed against you gently, pausing at your entrance, watching your eyes.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You did.

He pushed in slow, filling you inch by inch, and your breath caught in your throat. His hands gripped your hips, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered a near-silent curse.

“Fuck—you feel like you were made for me.”

You smiled, eyes half-lidded. “That’s a line.”

“It’s a truth.” He pulled out almost entirely, then pushed back in, deeper. “And I’ll prove it.”

What followed was nothing rushed. No frenzied thrusts, no hurried movements. Hoseok fucked you like he meant it. Like every slow grind of his hips was a conversation. Like every breathless moan from your lips was a secret he wanted to keep in his mouth forever.

He kept one hand at your waist, another tangled with your fingers, grounding you together. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper, and he groaned into your neck.

“I could lose myself in this,” he breathed. “In you.”

The rhythm built—still slow, still controlled, but more desperate now. Like he was trying not to come too soon, and you were trying not to fall apart again. You kissed, gasped, touched, pressed—until the tension coiled tighter than either of you could stand.

When you came again, this time it was together.

Bodies trembling, breaths mingling, hands gripping tightly like you didn’t want to let go. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, his mouth parted in bliss.

The silence afterward was comfortable—thick with heat and something else you didn’t dare name yet. He slowly pulled out, then settled beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as you turned into his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Just breathing.

Just being.

Then he kissed the top of your head, his voice softer than you’d heard it all night.

“Stay the night?”

You let out a quiet laugh against his chest.

“Didn’t realize I had a choice.”

-

The sun was barely up when you stumbled through Giselle’s front door, barefoot heels in hand, hair tousled and lips still tingling but still as put together as you could be. She was exactly where you expected her to be—sprawled on the couch in last night’s chaos of pink and white, a satin eye mask crooked on her forehead and a slice of cold pizza hanging limply from her fingers.

She peeled the mask off and blinked at you. “Oh my god,” she groaned, sitting up. “You look like sin.”

You grinned, tossing your shoes down and flopping onto the couch beside her. “You have no idea.”

She gasped. “Y/N—tell me everything. Who was that man? Where did you go? Did he ruin your life or just rearrange it a little?”

You laughed, burying your face into the throw pillow for a moment before lifting your head. “His name’s Hoseok. And...he’s dangerously charming.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Like—he kissed my hand when he introduced himself. Like, who does that?” You paused, smiling to yourself. “He made me feel like the only girl in the room without even trying. And he didn’t rush anything. He...listened. A lot.”

Giselle squinted suspiciously. “Was he hot?”

You let out a short breath. “He was beautiful. Like warm smile, honey voice, perfectly tailored pants beautiful.”

Giselle clutched her chest dramatically. “I’m gonna scream. Did you kiss him?”

“Giselle.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

You gave her a look.

Her mouth dropped open. “YOU DID.”

You laughed again, hands covering your face. “It was… good. Like, really, really good.”

“I’m so proud,” she said, hugging you from the side like she was sending you off to war. “Godspeed, you emotionally available goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, still a little dazed. “It was just one night.”

She grinned. “Yeah. But sometimes, one night’s enough to shake you a little, right?”

You paused, thinking of Hoseok's hands, his words, the way he looked at you like there was no one else worth looking at.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It really is.”

“You should have given him your number.” she sat up. 

“Who says I didn't?” 

➽ Kpop Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ G Dragon Masterlist ➽ Buy Me a Coffee

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"My Living Nightmare with an Online Bully: Episode 11"

The Monday following my Disneyland excursion, I reached out to my union reps again. I’ll be honest; I thought that since “Dean #1” took over the matter when she forwarded the evidence to the district’s Title IX office (ODEIA: Office of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility), there was nothing left for my union to do. Though I knew my union wanted to still talk and discuss the matter with me, I thought that may not be the case anymore since “Dean #1” was handling the situation. I now only wanted to get in touch with my union since I needed to discuss my options for the upcoming fall semester, as far as asking about a partial leave. See, in the days and weeks after “The Bully” started harassing me, I was beginning to unravel, feeling unconfident in my role as a professor, doubting if I could return to the classroom full time in the fall and do my job well or at all. Flavia suggested talking to our union rep, Christine, to learn about the process of a partial leave. So, that was my next step. 

Let me preface this now. Our union’s role, in cases like this, is to ensure faculty are okay, that we are feeling physically and emotionally safe. In other words, they have no control over what could happen to the student regarding discipline. Their primary focus is on the welfare of the faculty. 

Since my last communication with Christine, I knew I had to wait a bit for next steps since she was out of the country, and she also needed to confer with our grievance rep, Nate, on when we could all meet to discuss the situation. Plus, this was happening during the summer, and though school was still in session for summer classes, summertime tends to be when there is little productivity as many folks are understandably MIA due to vacations and the simple fact that full time faculty are not obligated to teach in the summer or even respond to emails. 

So, as I was contacting Christine, she, too, was working with Nate to schedule time for us to sit down and figure out next steps together, which, I’ll admit, surprised me as I ignorantly thought the matter had been turned over to “Dean #1.” Up until this point, the times I had to contact my union for any help only involved payroll discrepancies. Being harassed by a student was new territory for me, thus my ignorance on what steps I needed to take when it all started. When this all began, I called my union, per Flavia’s instructions, as that was the right thing to do at the time. Then, when “The Bully” emailed my chair and deans with his complaints about me, Jeffrey, the chair, transferred all evidence to our Academic Affairs dean, "Dean #1," who sent it over to our district’s ODEIA office. You could see how I would think that was the last stop. However, the union still needed to check in with me, and finally my meeting with Christine and Nate was set for Wednesday, July 24. 

The day before the meeting, which was scheduled to be over zoom, I had my weekly Tuesday evening session with my therapist. The anxiety of the ordeal hit a breaking point for me, and during my session, I couldn’t contain my feelings any longer; I broke down, uncontrollably crying, pleading: “I don’t know what to do or what is happening! No one is telling me what to do!” 

Yes, I had a meeting the next day scheduled with my union, and yes, “Dean #1” submitted all the information to the ODEIA office, but that was it, and I was still more than not okay, no matter how hard I tried to go on living my life. 

And even though I hadn’t heard from "The Bully" since his email complaint to the college about me, I had no idea if he was still planning to torment me again. And as previously mentioned, since I had no clue what this guy looked like, I was still questioning every white guy I came across in public. Knowing he knew what I looked like consumed my thoughts, exacerbating my fears further with the following questions:

Does he know where I live? Will he show up at my neighborhood pub or tiki bar? Has he been watching me? Is he watching me now?

After my emotional breakdown with my therapist, she strongly recommended: “File a police report, Nadia.” 

I was initially shocked by her advice. I didn’t realize I was at this point, but she was right, even if the thought of doing such a thing appeared so overwhelming, and I didn’t want to be at a point where the police would need to be involved, but something in me felt I needed to do this. The student harassed me on July 2, July 5, and then again with an email to my school over the July 4th weekend where he continued to insult me, accusing me of outlandish lies, trying to decimate my character and integrity, essentially attempting to sabotage my career—doing everything in his power to ruin me, to slander me. 

Bottom line: I was being bullied, harassed, and I felt violated. 

In the weeks after July 2, I was still not feeling okay because from what I could see, nothing was happening to “The Bully.” He started this whole mess. What punishment was he getting? What consequences waited for him? 

Filing a police report was starting to sound like the next logical step I personally needed to take since nothing else seemed to be happening.

Even if I would get some answers from my union, it had been two weeks since “Dean #1” submitted the evidence to the Title IX/ODEIA office. In the meantime, I was feeling extremely uncomfortable teaching the two summer school classes I had in front of me—both of which were online, where again, I was dealing with a slew of faceless names. 

Read on to Episode 12...

Source: "My Living Nightmare with an Online Bully: Episode 11"

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Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 1

Note: This is my first time creating a list of my favorite fanfics. I’ve been on Tumblr for quite a while, and it can be exhausting to sift through all my liked posts to find a specific story. So, I'm putting together this list to make it easier for myself and others looking for some good fanfics to read. I’m still a bit unsure about how to structure this list, but let’s give it a try! Also, all the moodboards are edited by me and therefore I request everyone not to repost them as theirs.

[Masterlist]

[OT7]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Coming Home by moonstruck-poet

Pairing- Kang Taehyun x sister!OC, BTS x platonic! OC Summary - Kang Ari comes back from the military for a couple of days to surprise her brother on his birthday.

➺ The Gateway to Your Heart by justimajin

Pairing: OT7 x Reader  Genre: Fluff, Cuteness, Sprinkles of Angst ↳ Magic Shop AU Words: 7.2k Warnings: None!  Summary:  ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞  

➺ Requested Drabble by minniepetals

Genre: CEO AU Synopsis: “I love you and I thought everything was okay but I guess not...“

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Nervous by etherealacoustic

Pairing - Kim Namjoon x Female! Reader Summary - Your husband Namjoon and BTS get an invitation to the White House. He's nervous so you comfort him.

➺ His Goodluck Charm by etherealacoustic

Pairing - Kim Namjoon x wife Reader Summary - It'll soon be Namjoon's performance but you had been travelling and were not present during the start.

{SERIES}

➺ Nine Months by gimmesumsuga

Summary: “Your due date has come and gone. Namjoon’s excited and you’re uncomfortable, but you’re both equally as impatient to meet your little girl.” Pairings: Namjoon x Reader Rating: 15+ Warnings:  Pregnancy, Birth, and all the icky bodily fluids that come along with it.

➺ A Dangerous Game by chaoticpuff17

Genre: A Yandere Mafia Au

➺ Guilty by xjoonchildx

pairing: namjoon X reader summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Real by Jiminrings

pairing: seokjin x reader wordcount: 13k glimpse: single dad!jin has all the money to blow off in the world but not time, and swim instructor!y/n just nEEDS to meet this student’s dad who’s never there to pick her up :D ft. someone’s ex that just had to be an olympic swimmer

{SERIES}

➺ The Profit & Love Statement by justimajin

↠ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader ↠ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst ↳ Office AU ↠ Word Count: 105.9k / 24 parts ↠ Summary: The workplace isn’t for everyone. It can be mundane and repetitive, with some describing it like a nuisance and others as a blessing. You’re the kind that leans more towards the latter and while it does make you an ideal candidate for many things, nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind that is the new employee.

➺ The a-listers by httpknjoon

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader genres | humor/crack, fluff, angst, actors!au plot | Meet Y/N and Jin, two of Hollywood's hottest celebrities and couple — or are they? Media and fans have been wanting to hear a confirmation for years now. But you two are always good at confusing everyone. Watch as everyone else play this guessing game of what's the relationship between Y/N and Jin.

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ CEO Yoongi by jungshookz

→ pairing: min yoongi x secretary reader  → genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex → wordcount: 21k+

➺ Requested Drabble by jungshookz

summary- oc has this big ol crush on yoongi and she’s like hella shy around him and they’re paired up for a project and oc is debating if she should say “can you help me” or “can you hold this” but it comes out like “can you hold me” and cheeky yoongi actually does it hehe

➺ Like flowers we bloom by cupofteaguk

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader genre: bad boy au | fluff warnings: slow burn, some knowledge of flowers, yoongi is a meanie in the beginning </3  word count: 5k  summary: in which a garden isn’t the only thing you’re building with Min Yoongi 

➺ No Choice (next to you) by gukyi

pairing: yoongi x reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 13k summary:the pros of your last-minute senior year apartment sublet: cheap, furnished, close to campus, in a gorgeous old victorian conversion home, and right next to the greek takeout place. the cons of your last-minute senior year apartment sublet: min yoongi, senior member of the beta tau sigma fraternity, and his party-throwing, vodka-loving, ruckus-making fraternity buddies, are your neighbors.

➺ One Chance by out-of-jams

↠ Summary ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected. Word Count: 7.4k Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

{SERIES}

➺ It's a Reverse Basket by justimajin

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader ⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst ↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU ⇝ Word Count: 90.5k / 21 parts   ⇝ Summary: The goal has never been in your favor, and despite all your best efforts, you don’t think it ever will be. But that’s right when you finally get the chance to turn things around, to do things the way you’ve always wanted to, and to go after what you truly love. However the problem isn’t if you can do it, it’s how much are you willing to do...?

➺ Love is... on tour by httpknjoon

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader genre | enemies to lovers synopsis | Tell everyone you know, Love Is... On Tour! Popstar!YN is set to start her sophomore world tour with her new hit songs, sparkly outfits, and talented live band. There are 352 days of this tour, which means 352 days of YN and her new bassist, Yoongi getting on each other's skin in every way possible.

➺ Fail-Safe by Jiminrings

pairing: yoongi x reader glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration. alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least. warning: [ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

➺ Greedy by xjoonchildx

Pairing: yoongi x reader Summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ No Time For Love by Jiminrings

pairing: doctor!hoseok x nurse!y/n wordcount: 3k glimpse: "If something happens to you, you come to me — not to the receptionist you like chatting with on your lunch breaks."

➺ Base Line by Jiminrings

pairing: hoseok x y/n wordcount: 3k glimpse: hoseok swears that you’re intolerable, but maybe that’s just because you don’t greet him good morning like you usually do

{SERIES}

➺ Guarded by xjoonchildx

Pairing: Hoseok x reader Summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ A Bite of Sin (M) by sangsanghaebwa

Genre: Smut, vampire!AU, (a bit of angst?) Word count: 4748 Description: After one fateful accident your entire life changes, but so does Jimin, leaving you bitter and lonely until you both break down. Warnings: Mature content

➺ While You're Sleeping by parkdatjimin

warnings: heavy angst, reader unleashes some insecurities to Jimin while he's sleeping, mentions of divorced parents and anxiety wc: 1.6K

➺ To Love You by alessiamalfoyzabini

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader Word Count | 16,1k Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➺ Sweetheart by indgio

↳ pairing park jimin x f!reader ↳ genre e2l / lawyer!au / wc 2.8k ↳ warnings very heated make-out session LMAO / ft. bff!taekook / oc is honestly just full of rage

➺ Blooming Days by bluekyun

Genre: fluff, smut, angst & humour Word Count: 15.390 Rating: NC-17 Summary: A typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

➺ Rebound by out-of-jams

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Word Count: 7k. Warnings/Genre: College!au. s2l. Explicit language. Alcohol use. Slight angst. Jealousy. Pining. One shot. PG 16. ↠ Summary ↞ Who cared if Kim Taehyung slept with other people? You sure as hell didn’t. That was what friends with benefits meant, right? No, it didn’t matter that you were halfway in love with him. And no, you sure as hell weren’t going to try and make him jealous with a complete stranger. Nope, not at all. Right? Right.

➺ What I did for Love by krreader

pairing: park jimin x reader genre: angst ; fluff ; mentions of smut summary: Park Jimin had long given up on hope of finding love and thought being a sugar daddy was just an easier way to get what he wanted. but when you start developing feelings for him, to a point where he knew you loved him, he couldn’t help but wonder what love might feel like... 

{SERIES}

➺ Heartburn by Jiminrings

pairing: jimin x reader glimpse: you know it’d happen eventually and you’ve been preparing yourself for the impending hurt — you just don’t want it now. Not now when it’s nearing jimin’s little sister’s birthday; not now when you can swear love isn’t the only thing you can put on the table. alternatively, jimin emotionally cheats on you while your wedding’s six months away. warnings: heavy angst (pls i am once again apologizing to the people that cried bc of this ily), emotional cheating, emotional constipation n baggage, insecurities, broken relationship w parents, intense longing and hurt i can't put into words + specified tags in each installment!

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Falling in crayolove by jungshookz

✎ pairing: kim taehyung x reader ✎ genre: kindergartenteacher!au, workingman!au, F L U F F, tiny bit of angst at the start :-( but this is literally 98% fluff; y/n and taehyung are like two little kids with little crushes on each other ✎ trigger warning(s): implications of getting an abortion!!   ✎ wordcount: 10.5k ✎ summary: y/n is a single mom and taehyung is a single kindergarten teacher. emma knows exactly what she needs to do.

➺ Stuck with You by jungshookz

❥ pairing: kim taehyung x reader ❥ genre: university!au, enemies-to-lovers, fratboy!tae??, comedy that’ll either make you chuckle out loud or roll your eyes and snoRT or maybe u won’t laugh that’s cool too, domestic fluff because i want to go grocery shopping with tae toO (but also fluff in general!!), smutty smut so make sure to read this with your phone’s brightness lowered all the dang way, hi @ librarian!namjoon!!! fratboy!jungkook is also in here  ❥ wordcount: 37k ❥ summary: kim taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things that have ever happened to you. 

➺ In Bloom {M} by untaemedqueen

Pairing: Tattooed&Pierced!Taehyung x Wife!Reader WordCount: 6.2k Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut Summary:  A tattoo artist taehyung, and a florist's wife reader, have their shops side by side, and one day they fight, and taehyung feels bad because of which he visits her with their daughter but she’s very angry, so he plans a trip to take her to a garden where they met for the first time and they make up, with some smut and the reader revealing she’s expecting.

➺ Swoon by minisugakoobies

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, non-Idol!AU Word Count: 3.6k Summary: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”  Warnings: swearing, kissing, Tae's wearing his red leather jacket from his Paris trip, we've also got Disco Jungkook and Harley Quinn Jimin in here

➺ Soft Spot by v-hope

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2k Summary: "where Tae is super soft for the reader who is a part of the staff and everyone starts noticing."

{SERIES}

➺ Catching a Case of Doctor Blues by justimajin

⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader  ⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst ↳ Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU  ⇢ Word Count: 67.4k / 20 parts ⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye...

[ JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONE-SHOTS}

➺ Requested drabble by jungshookz

summary- jungkook and yn do this thing where they fake marriage proposals to get free stuff in restaurants until jungkook is actually seriously proposing to his long time gf yn and she doesn't get the clue

➺ if-then by Jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader wordcount: 7k Glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively. alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset. Warning: [ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

➺ Mature by Jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader wordcount: 8k Glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed. alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea. Warning: [ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]

➺ Out of Gas? {M} by 97kuu

Paring: Jungkook x reader! Genre; jungkookbestfriend! Friends to lovers! WC; under 3k Summary; It was a setup between Taehyung, namjoon and Jungkook to get him to hook up with you in the car. However, his guilty heart and physical desire revealed that he wanted more than what he was willing to confess that night..

➺ Fifth Wish by Jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader wordcount: 18k Glimpse: jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you. Warning: [ angst, unrequited love (at first), emotional constipation, jk is Very Frustrating to be with, so much pining, the constant repetition of the notion that one must amount to something to be deserving of love, rlly wholesome fluff, mentions of blood n injuries, whole 360 redemption arc dw i am not evil ]

➺ Tutus & Tiaras (M) by 1kook

DILF!JK SPECIAL! rating m (18+) word count 10k summary: your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband

➺ Gamer Boy {M} by hoebii

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader Genre : Established Relationship!Au, Smut Rating : 18+ Warnings : sexual content, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism I guess?  Wc : 2.3k

[kingofbodyrolls]

Perfect Strangers (m) | jhs

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

When a man as warm as a crackling hearth steps into your cozy bookstore seeking the perfect gift for his friend’s Christmas party, you can’t help but offer him your brightest smile. But when he returns days later, with a spark in his eye and a bold request—to be his pretend girlfriend for this very party—you think, Why not? After all, Christmas is a time for a little magic, a little whimsy. Yet as you step deeper into his world, you discover a heart weighed down by scars from the past, a man more complex than the merry mask he wears. Still, what’s Christmas without a little hope, a touch of wonder, and a heart ready to spread the joy it knows so well?

→ Pairing: hoseok x reader (female) → AUs: bookstore!au, coffee shop!au, christmas!au, holiday!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / fake dating → Genres: fluff / angst / smut / romance → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 19.6k → Warnings + triggers: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (both), fingering, breast play, cum eating, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, Hobi was a huge cock, creampie, aftercare, marking,  → Author’s note: guess who’s back with another Christmas gift? Me! 🎁 And this time, we’re unwrapping a Hoseok story! 🥳 Brace yourselves, because this one’s got ALL. THE. FEELS. Seriously, it’s like a snowstorm of emotions—pretty sad at times, but also as warm and sweet as your favorite cup of cocoa on a chilly night ☕🫂 Because let’s be real, who doesn’t need a good hug this season? I actually wrote this in November, and it gave me all the feels while writing it. I hope you’ll love it just as much as I do—and please, pretty please, shower our sunshine Hobi with all the love and virtual hugs he deserves ☀️💛 → Read on AO3? [link] 

The air bites, sharp and unforgiving, and snow tumbles in silent waves. Hoseok pulls his green parka tighter, hands buried deep in his pockets, bracing against the chill that feels as much within him as without. He hates this season—Christmas and all its garish lights, the forced smiles and saccharine cheer that feel like hollow echoes in his ears. Every year, it pulls him back to a time when something precious slipped away, leaving only empty echoes and a bitter frost in its place.

He trudges through the drifts, his boots crunching with each step as he scuffs at the snow like it’s a living thing to be kicked away. Snow. He despises it—the memories it brings, the losses buried in its whiteness. Sighing, he drags his mind away, trying to escape from the grip of the past as he remembers his unfortunate task: a gift for Namjoon, drawn by fate and the iron-clad rules of Secret Santa. Namjoon, who seems like he’d raise an eyebrow at any attempt to impress him. What do you buy for a man whose tastes are as precise as clockwork? Hoseok’s mind wanders, a book, maybe—a neutral, safe bet. Or a plant? Or some gym gear, though he winces, thinking that might feel too impersonal. The book is safer, he decides, less likely to disappoint.

His friends won’t let him slip out of their gathering this year; the annual Christmas dinner. They’ve grown wise to his excuses, having humored them too many times before. This time, they said, he simply has to come, or they’d drag his sorry ass out of his apartment themselves. So he’d agreed, and before he could stop himself, he’d added a lie—a plus one. A date. Why he’d said it, he didn’t know. A flare of bravado, maybe, or a strange wish that he could bring someone to light the way through the season he loathes. But he hasn’t had anyone in years, and now the promise lingers uncomfortably, as cold as the snow itself.

Just as his thoughts are tangling around the dreaded dinner and the impossible gift, something catches his eye. Through the haze of snow, a flickering glow lights up the street. LEDs twinkle on a small shop sign, casting warm light onto the swirling cold. The words, “Books & Coffee,” curl across the sign in whimsical letters. Through the frosted windows, he catches a glimpse of cozy warmth inside—painted winter scenes, shelves filled with books, and the faint haze of steam rising from mugs. A chance, he thinks. A book for Namjoon, maybe, and a cup of coffee to thaw his mood.

With a shake of his head, he steps toward the shop, hoping the warmth within might push back, if only for a moment, the frost of memory that clings to him so stubbornly.

He pushes the door open, expecting the cramped and dim interior of a hole-in-the-wall shop. But as he steps inside, he pauses, surprised. The space stretches wide and tall, a quiet maze of towering bookshelves reaching toward the ceiling like trees in a literary forest. The air is thick with the scent of aged paper and fresh coffee, as warm and comforting as a blanket against the cold. Each shelf brims with books of every size, color, and genre, neat little labels dividing worlds of romance, mystery, fantasy, and more. And there, at the back of the store, his eyes catch on something unexpected—a grand coffee station, part of the cashier’s desk, decked out with bottles of liquor that glint invitingly beneath the dim lights. He frowns, amused, wondering just what sort of bookstore he’s stumbled into. 

Around him, people sink into overstuffed couches and mismatched armchairs, nestled beside little tables piled high with books and steaming mugs. Some read in hushed solitude, while others murmur in low voices, their laughter rippling like warmth in the cozy air. He laughs to himself, an ironic chuckle at the scene—it’s like he’s wandered into a romantic comedy set. Christmas decorations hang from every possible ledge, string lights wound like ivy around the shelves, falling snow draping down from the ceiling, like something straight out of The Great Hall in Hogwarts. It’s kitschy, as if the store itself is leaning into the absurdity of holiday cheer, its charm so overdone it loops back into endearing. He can’t help but picture it: a flower stand in one corner, and his “perfectly quirky holiday shop” bingo card would be complete.

Not knowing where to start, he begins wandering among the shelves, eyes skimming over the labeled sections—romance (divided by spice levels, he notes with a faint smile), “how-to” books, self-help guides, fantasy, young adult, crime thrillers. He feels lost, in more ways than one, unsure what might interest Namjoon. A philosophy book, maybe? Or poetry—something brooding and introspective, since Namjoon’s always been the type to lean into “the deep stuff.”

Just as he’s contemplating how ridiculous it is that he, of all people, has to pick out a “meaningful” gift, he glances up and spots you at the counter, your lips curved into a soft smile. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, he feels something unexpected—a flicker, like warmth pressing through the cold. You’re watching him with a light in your eyes, a warmth that, to his surprise, disarms him, even makes him feel almost…seen. Before he can look away, you’re already walking toward him, smile unwavering, and a strange, unfamiliar shiver runs down his spine.

“Do you need any help?” you ask, your voice soft and welcoming, your gaze roaming over him in casual appraisal.

If he had a flirting bone left in his body, he might have found a response, something charming to match the spark in your eyes. He thinks you’re cute, sure, and there’s no mistaking the interest in the way you’re looking at him. But he doesn’t have it in him, not anymore. It’s been too long since he’s let himself flirt, or even felt the desire to.

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I’m…looking for a book. For a friend. Got stuck with him in Secret Santa this year,” he shrugs, hoping that explains enough. 

You nod, listening with a gentle attentiveness that surprises him, as if every word he says matters. 

“Alright,” you reply, a bright smile lighting up your face as you clap your hands together in delight. “What kind of books does he like?” you ask, leading him further into the store with a spring in your step, your energy contagious, warming the air around you.

For a moment, he finds himself smiling back, the heaviness he carries lifting ever so slightly. Following you, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, this little shop—with all its quirks and kitschy charm—has a kind of magic after all.

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugs at his lips as he watches you move, graceful and light, as if the weight of life has never touched your shoulders. You float through the shop like someone untouched by scars, unshadowed by loss. He envies that ease, that freedom—it stirs something in him he thought he’d locked away. For a moment, he wishes he could go back to that version of himself, the one who moved through life without feeling every step like a burden. He sighs, catching himself and remembering you’d asked him a question.

“Ah—Namjoon’s into poetry,” he says, clearing his throat. “Existential stuff. The deeper, the better.”

Your smile grows, wider and brighter, and he catches sight of your slightly crooked front tooth—a small imperfection that only makes you look cuter as you bounce across the store. “I know just the thing! Follow me,” you sing, your voice lilting with a joy that contrasts starkly with his own. 

As he trails after you, he finds himself standing a little taller, rolling his shoulders back, almost as if he could let the weariness fall away. You lead him to a tall bookcase near the back of the shop, beneath a quaint little sign that reads, “Poems; a penny for your thoughts?” He raises an eyebrow at the cheesiness, but something about it is endearing, and he feels a hint of warmth sneaking in, thawing the corners of his frozen heart.

“So, this whole section is poetry. Anything specific you think he’d like, or should I recommend you something?” you ask, turning to him with eyes that feel soft and inviting, like an open door.

He hesitates. “Honestly, I’m not sure. He’s…well, his taste is kind of serious, and sometimes it’s just boring to me,” he admits, shrugging. A hint of worry lingers, hoping he hasn’t come off as rude—especially if poetry is something dear to you. But your smile doesn’t falter; if anything, it seems to soften, unfazed, still welcoming him in.

“Perfect! Then I know exactly what to recommend to you.” Your eyes light up with a spark of joy that catches him off guard, making his heart stir with an unfamiliar flutter. Reaching for a thick book, you cradle it like something cherished, a small treasure passed down. Your fingers trace the cover, vibrant and abstract, alive with colors that swirl and dance. He peers at the title, upside down but legible: Seasons Change, People Change: Thoughts on Personal Growth Inspired by Mother Nature.

You hold it out to him, gently, and begin with a quiet, thoughtful enthusiasm. “This collection is one of my favorites. Each page is filled with illustrations—paintings and sketches that bring the words to life. It’s divided into four sections, one for each season. It’s beautiful, but it’s also challenging, introspective. I keep it close for those days when I need something grounding, something to remind me to keep growing, even when it’s hard.” Your voice is soft, reverent, and the passion in your words flows freely, making his heart stumble a little, a pulse he thought had quieted.

Without a second thought, he feels himself drawn in, already captivated by your summary and the way you cradle the book like it holds some kind of quiet magic. He feels it—the warmth and lightness in your presence thawing the edges of something inside him. He thought he’d long forgotten this feeling, but as you stand there, glowing, he realizes maybe it isn’t gone after all.

“Do you want to get him this one, or should I find something else?” you ask, your eyes gleaming with a playful spark, the kind of light that could brighten even the dimmest of days.

He lets out a chuckle, low and gravelly, surprising himself. The sound feels foreign, rusty, like laughter hasn’t escaped his throat in a long time. “No,” he starts, and then realizes you’d offered him two options, so he clears his throat and clarifies, “I want this one. Thank you.”

Your smile widens, and there’s that same warmth in your eyes, shimmering with a joy he hasn’t felt in years. “Awesome,” you murmur, a quiet delight in your voice as you turn to lead him back to the counter. He follows, watching the way you move, the easy grace of your steps, the little bounce that seems so at odds with his own heavy tread. He can’t help but notice the care you put into even the smallest details—how your fingers skim over the cover as you scan the book, your voice soft as you tell him the price. He nods absently, hardly hearing you; he’s already decided this book, chosen with such thought, is worth every penny.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” you ask suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He chuckles again, awkward this time, and you respond with a light laugh of your own, a sound that melts the air between you. “I’ll wrap it up real quick,” you say, reaching for a roll of delicate paper. “Just a sec.”

He watches, captivated by the way you work. Your hands move smoothly, almost lovingly, as you fold the paper with practiced ease. You add a final touch—a bit of decorative tape, a couple of small stickers, a tiny pocket for a note. There’s a grace in your movements, a tenderness he hadn’t expected to find in something so ordinary. It strikes him that you must do this every day, that you’ve wrapped countless books just like this one, yet you treat each with the same reverence. For a moment, he’s transfixed, caught up in a little world where every gesture, every detail matters.

“Here you go,” you say, handing him the book, now carefully wrapped and nestled in a paper bag.

“Will that be everything for you today?” you ask, smiling softly as if you can sense he’s still lingering, still caught in his own thoughts.

“Oh—actually, no!” he exclaims, a laugh slipping out, and it’s genuine, unexpected. “I’d like a coffee to go, please.”

“Of course,” you reply with a little nod, and he watches as you glide over to the coffee station, your hands moving gracefully as you work the machine, pouring a steady stream of coffee into a simple paper cup. You bring it to him with a quiet smile. “Here you go,” you say, handing him the cup, its warmth seeping through the paper and into his fingers, spreading heat into his bones.

“Thank you,” he says, reminding himself to return your smile. There’s a warmth there, an ease he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he finds himself thinking, just for a second, how pretty you look with that gentle expression, with the easy way you move through the world. If only he weren’t so closed off, so weighed down by his own wounds. You’d be the kind of person he’d love to ask out, if his heart hadn’t already been numbed by the cold.

But no—he’s too far gone for that. So he simply raises a hand in farewell, turns his back, and steps out into the biting wind. Snowflakes swirl around him, cold against his cheeks, but his coffee is warm in his hands, sending up gentle tendrils of steam that vanish into the icy air. He trudges through the snow, his footsteps muffled, his mind unexpectedly lingering on you—your warm laugh, the way your eyes glinted with life, as if joy itself lived inside you. 

Maybe he should let himself try again. Maybe he should take a chance and see what could happen, let someone in, just once more. His friends have told him enough times how much he needs that, how he should stop closing himself off. But then he remembers how content you seemed, untouched by the darkness he carries, and he can’t bear the thought of bringing his storm into your sunlight, of tainting that brightness with his own shadows. It’s better this way, he tells himself, better not to risk another heart—especially not one that shines like yours.

The sun spills across the snow outside, making it glisten like a field of tiny pearls scattered over the earth. Inside your bookstore, the warmth of Christmas lingers in every corner, filling the air with the quiet glow of string lights, the soft hum of holiday music, and the scent of coffee mingling with cinnamon. It’s just the way you love it—cozy and inviting, a small world apart. The fragrance stirs memories of Christmases past, when warmth and wonder felt boundless. It’s nostalgic, yes, and you find yourself wanting to pass that feeling on, to wrap it up like a gift and place it into the hands of every person who steps through the door.

This is why you opened this bookstore with its coffee corner, a place where stories and comfort blend as naturally as words on a page. You’ve always been captivated by the written word, knowing full well how a single story can slip beneath your skin, change your world, and leave you breathless with a sense of wonder. A story can make you pause, whispering, wow, this was amazing, or surprise you with glimpses of yourself in its characters. Some books show you new paths; others mirror the parts of yourself you hadn’t quite understood.

This is the magic you’ve always chased—a quiet enchantment found only in books—and why you can’t help but adore recommending them. You believe in the power of words, that the right book at the right time can light up a reader’s world. And here, among the shelves you’ve lovingly arranged, you get to share that magic every day, welcoming others into a world that feels like home.

Every person who steps into your little winter wonderland is met with a genuine smile, and if they’re looking for a recommendation, you’re ready to sprinkle a bit of joy their way. Life hasn’t been simple for you, and you’ve had to fight for much of what you have now, but it’s made every small thing feel that much more precious. Every creak of the floorboards, every cover softened by countless hands, every whispered exchange about a new favorite book feels like a gift.

It’s midday on a bustling Saturday—one of the busiest days of the week—and today’s book club meets in half an hour. You glance at the clock and start setting everything up, filling the air with extra anticipation. You prepare an assortment of drinks: coffee, of course, but also tea for those who prefer it, poured into festive mugs that add a little extra cheer. You drape fluffy blankets over the cozy couches and scatter them with soft pillows, transforming your reading nook into a haven from the cold outside. Freshly baked muffins and cookies wait on the table, adding a hint of sweetness to the air.

In your hands, you hold today’s book—a thrilling, spicy fantasy where a young woman uncovers a hidden truth about herself, discovering magic and mystery with the help of a tall, dark, brooding stranger. It’s the perfect pick for this crowd, an escape into a world filled with intrigue and impossible love. Your bookstore hosts a range of book clubs, something for every taste, from cozy mysteries to heartfelt memoirs, so everyone who wanders in finds a place to belong.

As you check the time again, the chime of the door opens, and members trickle in, mostly women but with a few men scattered among them. They settle into the chairs, cradling their warm drinks and pulling out their books, eyes bright with anticipation. You begin, reading snippets aloud, leading discussions that bounce from laughter to quiet reflection as everyone shares their favorite lines, passages that moved them, questions that linger. Hours slip by in an instant, and even after the meeting ends, people linger, reluctant to let go of this cozy, book-filled oasis. Some stay to read, sipping slowly at their cups, while you return to the counter, greeting the steady stream of customers that fill your little shop. 

As you move between the bookshelves and help others find their next escape, you feel a quiet pride. This place is yours, filled with stories, laughter, and a touch of magic in every corner—a small universe where people come to feel less alone, warmed by the same words that have guided you all your life.

As you wait, relaxed, watching for anyone who might need help, your mind drifts back to a few days ago, to that stranger who walked in with the quietest of presences, searching for a gift—a book for his friend. Namjoon, that was the friend’s name. You realize now you never caught the stranger’s name. He was handsome in an understated way, but there was a heaviness about him, like a cloud clinging to his shoulders. That sadness had tugged at something inside you, urging you to offer him a touch of the holiday warmth filling your little shop. Despite his guarded nature, you saw those small cracks, those fleeting moments when he softened, letting in a glimmer of the joy you tried to share.

Now, with closing time just around the corner, your thoughts drift back to him and that lingering, frowning gaze. Just then, the bell chimes, pulling you from your thoughts, and to your surprise, in he walks, the same stranger, stepping through the door with a hint of apprehension. For a split second, he looks vulnerable, almost unsure—but as his eyes meet yours, his expression shifts, confidence replacing hesitation. His small smile is radiant, a rare glow that catches you off guard, like a sliver of sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to leave you wondering what storms he’s weathered to dim his light this way.

You greet him with a soft smile of your own as he steps up to the counter, stopping just before you. 

“Hi,” he says with a steady voice. You return the greeting, about to ask if he needs help with anything, but he speaks first, voice a touch uncertain but warm.

“Remember that friend you helped me find a gift for?” he asks, scratching his head, as though he’s slightly unsure of himself. You nod, intrigued, and he clears his throat, glancing away for just a moment.

“Well,” he continues, his voice steadying, “we’re having a Christmas dinner tomorrow, and I thought... Maybe you’d like to come with me?”

You blink, taken by surprise, and a laugh escapes as you say, “I don’t even know your name,” your tone light, not saying no, but letting him know you’re curious, open to this unexpected invitation.

“Ah, right—my bad,” he says, stretching his hand toward you with a shy smile. “I’m Hoseok. And you?”

You take his hand, his warmth surprising you, and you giggle, “It’s Y/N,” you reply, your voice soft, the sound of your name feeling different in the warmth of his gaze.

“Y/N,” he repeats, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “Pretty name,” he murmurs, and you can’t help but feel the faintest hint of flirtation woven in his words, though there’s still a nervousness in his eyes.

Then he takes a small breath and adds, “Just to clarify,” he hesitates, his voice wavering with a hint of uncertainty, “you’d be going as my girlfriend. Well, my fake girlfriend.” He chuckles nervously, almost wincing at his own words. “I mean—if you’re good with that?”

The words hang in the air between you, unexpected and just a bit surreal. Fake girlfriend? You blink, caught off guard, studying his face as he scratches the back of his neck, stammering slightly, realizing, perhaps, the absurdity of it all. “I told my friends I’d be bringing my girlfriend,” he explains, his cheeks coloring, “but, well… I don’t actually have one.”

There’s something so earnest, so endearingly awkward about him that you can’t help but smile. And before you know it, you hear yourself saying, “Yeah, sure. I’d love to be your fake girlfriend.” The words come easily, and even though you’ve only seen him once in your bookstore, something in his gaze feels steady, genuine. Maybe it’s a leap, but you’ve always trusted your instincts, and right now they’re telling you he’s worth it. If this brings him a little joy in the midst of whatever shadows he’s facing, you’re happy to oblige.

Hoseok looks stunned, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief, and then a broad smile lights up his face. “Thank you,” he breathes, his voice filled with relief and a soft gratitude. He tells you he’ll pick you up tomorrow, and you exchange numbers and addresses, the simple gestures somehow feeling significant.

As he heads out into the frosty night, his figure disappearing into the snow-dusted street, you’re left smiling to yourself, the weight of the unexpected encounter settling over you. You lock up the bookstore, half-wondering at the mystery of it all, but feeling strangely certain this is exactly the kind of magic the season brings—unexpected, a little reckless, and wrapped in the glow of winter lights.

You clasp your hands together, fingers intertwining tightly, nerves fluttering in your chest as you wait for Hoseok to pick you up. You agreed to join him at his friends’ Christmas dinner as his pretend girlfriend, but now, in the quiet of your apartment, doubt creeps in. You’ve only met him twice in your bookstore, barely know him beyond fleeting glances and brief exchanges. The thought of walking into a room full of strangers prickles at your confidence. But you remind yourself that it’s just like meeting new faces at the shop. Slowly, your shoulders loosen, and your breathing steadies.

Glancing at your wristwatch, you see it’s nearly time. You grab your keys, lock the door, and head down the stairs, feeling the soft knit of the Christmas sweater dress Hoseok insisted you wear, an odd sense of comfort in its silly design. Apparently, you’re “matching his ugly sweater,” as he’d said with a laugh. Wrapped in your winter coat and boots, you step into the night, the cold air crisp and bracing as delicate snowflakes drift through the air, illuminated by the warm amber glow of the streetlamps.

Headlights sweep up the road, and Hoseok’s car slows to a stop in front of you. He’s waiting, the dim light from the dashboard casting a soft glow across his face. You open the door, sliding into the passenger seat, where warmth radiates from the heater and a familiar cinnamon scent lingers in the air. Hoseok greets you with a quiet smile, though his eyes hold a hint of his own nerves.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says softly, watching you as you fasten your seatbelt. He shifts into gear, guiding the car down the snowy road. His fingers clench the steering wheel, and after a moment, he glances your way. “So…you remember our backstory from last night?”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I remember the texts,” you say, warmth lacing your voice. “We’re childhood friends from kindergarten who recently reconnected when you moved back into town.” 

He hums approvingly, tapping his fingers lightly on the wheel as he stops at a red light. “Perfect. My friends are probably going to ask a million questions—I hope you’re ready for that.”

You shrug with a playful confidence, grinning as you glance over at him. “I think I can handle it.”

The two of you share a small, knowing smile, though the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you. Here you are, headed toward a stranger’s holiday dinner, to pretend to be his girlfriend. You don’t gain anything from this beyond the joy of helping someone out, but still…there’s a little thrill in the adventure.

The city lights gradually fade as he drives out toward the quieter suburbs, snow dusting the dark roads until he finally turns into the driveway of a quaint little house, string lights twinkling around the doorframe like stars. Hoseok cuts the engine, the two of you sitting in the hushed stillness for a moment, watching as the snowflakes swirl gently outside the windshield.

“We’re here,” Hoseok murmurs, and you catch his smile, warm as the headlights reflecting off the falling snow. “This is actually my friend Namjoon’s place,” he says, reaching for a carefully wrapped gift on the seat. Watching him, you suddenly wonder aloud, “Should I have brought something, too?”

He waves his hands between you, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry—you didn’t draw a name for Secret Santa, so you’re all set.”

Relieved, you step out into the brisk night, following him along the snow-dusted path. As you approach the door, he reaches for your hand, his grip both grounding and electrifying as he gives a gentle pull, guiding you to the doorstep. You bite your lip nervously, a bundle of nerves and excitement building, when the door swings open. Standing there, smiling with dimples that carve deep into his cheeks, is a man who strikes an oddly familiar chord.

“Hi, Hobi,” he greets, his voice rich and welcoming, before glancing at you with a knowing twinkle. “And this must be your girlfriend?”

Hoseok’s hand presses lightly against the small of your back. “Yes, this is Y/N,” he introduces you with a soft squeeze that sends a rush of warmth through you.

You follow them inside, feeling the sudden coziness of the house—a subtle warmth, holiday lights casting a glow over walls adorned with paintings and art pieces. When you step into the dining room, you stop, eyes widening at the grand bookcase stretching along the wall. It reminds you of your own bookstore, and you can’t help the delighted laugh that escapes you.

You’re greeted by Hoseok’s friends, easy smiles and lighthearted jokes melting away your nerves. There’s a surprising ease to slipping into this role, to letting Hoseok’s arm find its way around your shoulder, his touch landing at the small of your back, drawing you in for a gentle hug every so often. His casual touches feel natural, and you find yourself leaning into him as if you’ve known each other for far longer than two brief meetings.

As the evening unfolds, though, you notice something. While you’re chatting and laughing with his friends, Hoseok seems quieter, reserved, watching more than talking, an unexpected contrast to the warm person who’s held you close all evening.

Soon, everyone settles at the table, and you find yourself between Hoseok and Namjoon, whose familiarity still niggles at your mind. Drinks are poured, laughter fills the air, and a delicious meal is shared. The room falls into a comfortable quiet as everyone eats, voices softened as plates empty and contentment settles in.

“So, how did you meet our Hobi?” a tattooed guy—Jungkook, you think—asks with a curious smile.

You recount the story Hoseok gave you, weaving it with a smile. Jungkook nods, seemingly convinced, and around the table, friends accept your tale with knowing grins—except for Namjoon. You catch the soft scoff he tries to hide, though the others brush it off. When you finally turn fully to face him, catching his eyes, recognition strikes.

Of course—he’s a regular at your bookstore. You’ve seen him countless times, tucked into a corner with a book in hand, quietly immersed, though he’s never spoken to you and always leaves without buying anything. You wonder if he remembers you too, if he feels the same familiar spark, or if it’s just you, standing in the company of strangers who somehow feel just a bit like home.

A pang of doubt twists in your chest. If Namjoon has indeed pieced together that you’re not Hoseok’s real girlfriend, then the secret you’re helping carry feels a little heavier. You remember Hoseok mentioning their long history, and you wonder how well Namjoon can see through this little charade. But as dinner goes on, he stays silent, leaving you in an unsettling limbo of half-glances and unsaid words.

The night drifts on, and laughter fills the room as everyone exchanges Secret Santa gifts. You can’t help but smile as each friend unwraps their present, the spark of surprise and joy lighting up each face. When it’s Namjoon’s turn, he opens Hoseok’s gift—a book—and he pauses, his gaze slipping to you in a flash of recognition. You avert your eyes, warmth creeping into your cheeks, uncertain of what he sees or thinks.

When the last of the presents has been exchanged, Hoseok turns to you, a small, wrapped package in his hands. “For you,” he murmurs, his smile soft, almost bashful. Surprised, you unwrap it, revealing a tiny sun plushie with a wide, beaming grin. Its warmth brings an involuntary smile to your lips, and you clutch it close. “Thank you, dear,” you say, leaning in to plant a light kiss on his cheek. Hoseok’s friends exchange giggles and knowing looks, and Hoseok whispers softly to you, “It’s for being my partner in crime tonight.”

As the evening winds down, you join in clearing the table. Hoseok has drifted to the couch, his figure outlined by the window, eyes distant and fixed on the winter night. A weight lingers in his expression, a deep-seated sadness that seems miles away from the warmth of the room. You’re about to go to him, to ask if he’s alright, when you feel a strong hand at your wrist, guiding you into the hallway.

It’s Namjoon. His presence is grounded and steady, like an oak tree catching you in the autumn wind. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see both questions and answers swirling there, like he’s holding onto a truth he’s not sure he’s ready to speak.

“So, should I be thanking you for the book?” Namjoon chuckles, his smile gentle yet curious, as though he’s only half-convinced of your innocence in the matter.

“Not really,” you reply, grinning as you deflect his gaze with a little shrug. “I just helped him choose because he’s hopeless with books—unless they’re comics.” You laugh, hoping your nonchalance hides the truth beneath the surface.

He laughs, nodding. “Yeah, sounds like him. Comics are about as close as he gets to literature.” His eyes flicker with warmth as he continues, “So, what’s your kind of book? What authors and genres do you get lost in?”

Before you know it, the two of you are deep in conversation, voices lowered in the hallway like you’re sharing secrets. Time becomes a vague notion, and the room around you seems to fade, leaving only the vibrant world of books—their characters, settings, and journeys—alive between you. Talking about stories, you feel a rare lightness, as if Namjoon is the first person in ages who shares the same deep love for them.

“You should drop by the bookstore sometime,” you say with a smile that feels wider, warmer. “We have a book club, too. It’s not as fancy as this,” you laugh, glancing toward the festive room, “but it’s a cozy crowd.”

Namjoon hesitates, then rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of shyness breaking through his cool exterior. “I might just take you up on that.” He pauses, as if summoning courage. “Actually… could I get your number? There’s that book you mentioned earlier—I’d love to hear more about it sometime, but…” He glances at the room filling with laughter and goodbyes. “Looks like this night’s wrapping up.”

For a brief second, you wonder at the request, but something in his gaze, earnest and unguarded, assures you. With a soft smile, you hand him your phone, and as you exchange numbers, a quiet sense of possibility lingers in the space between you.

He must know, right? That you’re only pretending to be Hoseok’s girlfriend? 

And yet, Namjoon has said nothing, given no sign that he’s in on the secret. With a fleeting glance over your shoulder, you find Hoseok across the room, engaged in conversation with Seokjin. You drift over and settle next to him, and he instinctively wraps an arm around you, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that feels almost natural, if not a bit intoxicating. It’s easy to lean into his warmth, to fall into step with this rhythm of borrowed closeness, though your heart betrays you with a quiet flutter. Hoseok is both charming and soft-spoken—the kind of person you might fall for. But as he laughs and smiles, you sense a faint veil behind his joy, as if he’s holding something back, a quiet sadness simmering beneath his surface.

Your curiosity pulls you closer, like you’re skimming a page of a novel you’re not yet allowed to read, catching only glimpses of the sorrow he hides. You wonder what story lies beneath his charming front but stop yourself; after all, tonight you’re nothing more than strangers playing at love.

Later, as he drives you home through streets blanketed in snow, a mellow Christmas tune hums softly from the radio. He’s quieter now, eyes focused on the road, his features thoughtful, even solemn under the glow of passing streetlights. You wonder what’s shifted within him, what’s brought on this sudden retreat. You want to reach out, to ask if something’s wrong, but the words linger on your tongue, uncertain. Instead, you fall silent as the car slows, then stops outside your building. A strange reluctance holds you there, as if the air itself has thickened, laced with words neither of you are quite willing to say.

After a pause, Hoseok turns to you, clearing his throat, his hand resting on your thigh—a gesture that’s both tender and strangely formal. His voice is low, soft as he murmurs, “Thank you for being my fake girlfriend tonight. You… really made it feel real.”

He says it softly, his voice carrying a hint of sadness that catches you off guard, a weight that settles around your heart like mist on a winter night. His words linger, unspoken emotions woven into the silence that stretches between you, and you find yourself wondering—what happens now, with this fragile connection suspended in the cold, quiet air?

“It was nothing. Really—you’re welcome,” you say, a gentle reply you hope sounds reassuring, though it feels distant, safer. Perhaps the middle of the night isn’t the time to unearth things better left unsaid. Yet the thought crosses your mind: will you see him after this? Wasn’t this just a single act, a temporary arrangement?

“Will I… see you again?” you hear yourself ask, your voice soft, almost hesitant, as if it too fears rejection.

Hoseok’s hand retreats, and he glances down, a subtle sadness clouding his eyes. “I… I don’t think so.” His words feel heavier than they should, an unexpected blow that leaves you feeling emptier than you thought possible. You hardly know him, yet there’s something unspoken etched across his face—something hurt, guarded, and you ache to reach out, to tell him that whatever he’s holding back, he doesn’t have to carry alone. But he’s closed himself off, walls too high for a stranger’s comfort to reach.

You sigh, swallowing the pang of regret, clenching your hands to steady yourself. “Oh… okay,” you say, masking the ache with a soft, hollow smile. Your fingers twitch, wanting to bridge the gap between you, to offer some small comfort—but his posture tells you he isn’t ready to accept it. He looks away, his expression distant, already far ahead on a road you’re not part of, his face cast in shadow.

With a deep breath, you open the car door and step out, lingering just a moment longer before whispering a soft “Goodbye.” He barely meets your gaze as you close the door, and before you know it, his car is fading into the darkness, leaving you alone on the sidewalk, wrapped in silence and the unsettling ache of missed chances.

You stare after him, shivering under the streetlights, wondering if you should’ve pressed, if you should’ve dared to ask what weighed him down. But the night stretches on, and you’re left there with only your thoughts and the haunting feeling that you missed something rare and beautiful that might never return.

Hoseok feels hollow, a sinking weight that hasn’t lifted since he saw that crestfallen look on your face when he left you at your door. He’s not blind; he knows he messed up. But there’s something about this season, the way it reaches into his chest and pulls him under, leaving him fighting against a tide that he’s been trying to ignore for years. And now Christmas Eve is almost here—an anniversary of grief he hates most of all—and the closer it gets, the more his mood tangles, turning dark and unmanageable.

Why does he always ruin things? You were so sweet, so bright, your hand fitting perfectly into his like it was meant to be there. It’s been so long since he’s felt even a spark of warmth like that. Having you beside him at the dinner helped, too, lifted the weight for just a moment. But now, he’s gone and left you with nothing but silence. He knows he’s worried you, knows he’s made you question yourself. And yet, his heart twists at the thought of texting back, at unearthing the reason for his darkness.

The worst part is he’s seen every message you’ve sent, each one left unanswered, and with every passing day, they’ve dwindled until now… there’s nothing. He can’t blame you for giving up—he’d have done the same. And still, something in him aches at the absence, at knowing he’s pushed you away when he’s wanted to tell you the truth. Wanted to let you in. But the truth feels as vast and heavy as the winter sky, and he doesn’t know how to share it. He doesn’t know if he ever could.

His friends have noticed, too, hounding him with questions that scrape against his guilt, asking him how he kept you hidden for so long. Namjoon even laughed and asked how he’d managed to keep such a “childhood friend” so secret all these years. Hoseok’s stomach tightens with the weight of his lie, the flimsy story unraveling before him like a thin thread he can’t control.

He scrubs a hand through his hair, frustration thick in his throat. How could he possibly tell you what’s really going on when he knows it would change how you see him? How could he bare himself to you, darkness and all, without fearing he’d lose the brief light you’ve brought into his life? The thought circles in his mind, relentless, as he wonders if he’s ever been brave enough for the truth—or if, this time, he’s finally lost the chance.

The doorbell cuts through the heavy silence of Hoseok’s apartment, and when he swings open the door, there stands Namjoon—tall and composed, bundled in a long coat, a beanie tugged low, thick glasses catching the faint winter light. He’s holding a houseplant, its green vibrant against the muted backdrop of the street.

“Mind if I come in?” Namjoon asks, but before Hoseok can even respond, his friend steps over the threshold like he’s been here a hundred times. Hoseok stands, caught off guard, words barely forming in his throat.

“Uh, sure,” he finally stammers, wondering what could have brought Namjoon here at this hour, unannounced and unreadable.

Namjoon places the plant—small, resilient-looking—onto the dining table, then slips off his coat and drapes it over the chair, pulling it out with a quiet determination. Hoseok follows and sits across from him, still dazed, feeling like he’s been summoned to some private tribunal.

Namjoon clears his throat, fixing Hoseok with a steady, discerning gaze. “You and Y/N,” he begins, words deliberate, “have you told her why you can’t stand Christmas?”

Hoseok’s breath catches; his throat tightens. He forces himself to shake his head. “No, I haven’t,” he manages, the words heavy.

Namjoon leans forward, his posture stern yet somehow protective. “So you’re not serious about her?” he presses, voice low but insistent, as though each syllable is meant to peel back the layers of Hoseok’s tangled emotions.

“No...I mean—” Hoseok hesitates, feeling the urge to confess he’s cut things off, ended this entire charade before it grew more complicated. But Namjoon speaks again, his voice shifting, a rare gentleness threading through.

“I stopped by her bookstore,” he says, and Hoseok holds his breath, tension prickling beneath his skin as he waits, unsure of where this is heading.

Namjoon’s eyes soften, and a small, genuine smile flickers across his face. “She’s really sweet, you know. Bright. Kind. I think she’s exactly what you need—if only it were real.”

The words pierce through Hoseok, his heart stumbling. He feels his pulse race, the subtle grip of panic and dread mixing with something that feels painfully like hope. He knew this moment would come, knew someone would finally see past the lie, and yet there’s relief in the admission. He can’t hide, doesn’t want to.

“So...you figured out it’s fake,” he mutters, defeated, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

Namjoon nods, arms crossed, his expression shifting to something sterner, more disappointed than Hoseok could have anticipated. “What I don’t understand,” he says, voice firm but low, “is why you’d hurt her feelings like this.”

Hoseok flinches, each word like a heavy stone sinking into his chest. Hurt you? The idea stings, unearthing a guilt he hadn’t let himself feel fully until now. He’d thought this arrangement would protect him, keep everyone at a safe distance. But hearing it said aloud—that he’s hurt you—tightens the knot in his chest, makes him realize just how much he’s let his own grief pull him down, dragging someone else along with him.

He searches Namjoon’s face, but his friend’s gaze doesn’t waver, holding him accountable with a simple, unrelenting question. And for the first time in a long time, Hoseok wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’s been too afraid to let himself feel something real again.

Hoseok’s gaze meets his friend’s, a trace of confusion flickering there, but then, with a pang, he remembers the look on your face when you’d asked if you’d see each other again. He can still see it—how your expression fell at his answer, the sadness that slipped across your features.

Namjoon leans forward, his tone gentler but resolute. “You know... I think she actually cares about you,” he says, stretching his arms out and shaking his head in amused disbelief. “I don’t know how you manage to pull that off while acting like the Grinch himself,” he scoffs, “but somehow, this girl’s worried about you. You really should go talk to her, at least apologize for being a complete ass.”

Hoseok feels his chest tighten, leaving him mute, almost stunned. He knows Namjoon is right; he knows it all too well. But saying what he feels, peeling back that scarred armor—especially around Christmas—is something he’s almost incapable of doing.

“I don’t know if I can, Joon…,” he murmurs, the words coming out more fragile than he intended. “I just think telling her everything will only make her sad,” he says, his gaze dropping to the table, his hands clasped tight as though they could somehow keep his emotions contained.

Namjoon doesn’t let him off that easily. “And what do you think she is now?” he retorts softly, but with enough weight that the words feel like they land with an impact. Hoseok’s eyes widen, struck by the truth that he’d been dodging all along.

He’d thought, maybe, you’d be angry at him—mad, frustrated, but surely you’d move on quickly, brushing him off as just another mistake. After all, you were nothing more than strangers bound by a silly pretense. But hearing Namjoon say it so plainly, he realizes just how deeply he’s been fooling himself. And underneath the weight of his resentment for this season and the pain tied to that distant, bitter December night, he can’t deny the truth—he finds you kind, thoughtful, even hopeful in ways that he barely remembers feeling himself. 

If things were different—if his grief hadn’t swallowed him whole, if he could loosen the grasp of the past—he could almost imagine himself with someone like you. But here he is, still tethered to that haunting memory, letting Christmas slip by year after year in the shadow of that loss. 

Namjoon watches him in silence for a moment, then speaks, his voice quieter but unyielding. “Hoseok, we’ve all tried to tell you. The past can’t be a place to live, no matter how much it calls you back.” 

And Hoseok feels the truth of it—a weight and a choice lingering like the chill of winter air, urging him, perhaps for the first time, to break free.

It’s nearly Christmas Eve, and you’re setting up for the last book club gathering before the holidays—a special, spicy session in the fading afternoon light, centered around a tale of witches, dragons, and the tangle of morals. While you lay out the books, aligning them carefully on the tables, your mind drifts to Hoseok, stirring with thoughts you can’t quite suppress. Namjoon’s words echo in your memory, nudging you to give his friend a chance. But the emptiness of your unanswered texts lingers; despite the messages you’d sent with tentative care, Hoseok has remained silent. A part of you aches to reach out just once more, yet the other half insists on self-respect—if he doesn’t want the comfort you offered, the space to unburden himself, you tell yourself that’s fine. Still, beneath that quiet resolve, a sliver of frustration seethes, and it slips into your work, reflected in the books you place down a bit too roughly, each one landing with a defiant thud.

Tonight’s book club promises to be a lively one, with more attendees than ever before. You’ve even roped in a few friends to help rearrange the store, setting up extra couches and stools to welcome the crowd, and handling the front counter while you join the readers. Despite everything, the prospect of the gathering fills you with a kind of joy that’s untouched by disappointment. Here, surrounded by stories and souls eager to explore them, you feel anchored, reminded of the warmth and kinship that words can forge even on the coldest nights.

Everything is ready, and as people start trickling in, the space soon brims with warmth and laughter. Every seat is filled, and latecomers, wrapped in thick blankets, settle on the floor, adding to the cozy, intimate atmosphere. Soft candlelight dances across the room, casting a gentle glow over festive mugs brimming with coffee and tea, and you smile, savoring the joy that settles over your little bookstore. You begin speaking about the new indie author whose book you’re exploring tonight, diving into themes of morality, which quickly spark a spirited debate among the readers. 

But then your phone vibrates, faintly insistent in your pocket. At first, you ignore it, but when it continues, you excuse yourself with a sheepish smile and slip away to the counter. A string of messages from Namjoon lights up your screen.

[19:23] Namjoon: Hi 😀  

[19:23] Namjoon: Sorry to bother you again, but  

[19:24] Namjoon: TY for letting me visit your bookstore 📚  

[19:24] You: You’re welcome anytime! 😊  

[19:24] Namjoon: and finding that book for me  

[19:24] You: np at all 😀  

[19:25] Namjoon: I know that your relationship with Hobi is fake, but I really wanted to say that I think you’ll be good for him ☀️  

[19:25] You: Really? 🥹  

[19:25] Namjoon: I hope you’ll want to get to know him. He’s a really great guy 👍  

[19:25] You: I do! Yeah. I had a feeling there’s a nice guy under all that sadness 🥹  

[19:26] Namjoon: Ahh, yeah. He actually used to be the happiest and brightest person, but…  

[19:26] Namjoon: Ahh, sorry 🙇  

[19:26] Namjoon: It’s not my place to tell you.  

[19:26] Namjoon: You should talk to him 🙂  

[19:26] You: DW! I didn’t want to pry. I’ll ask him himself 🥰  

[19:27] You: TY for looking out for him. You’re a good friend 🫂  

[19:27] Namjoon: Always. He’s one of my oldest friends and I just want to see him happy again 🥹  

[19:27] You: I’ll try talking to him. I hope he finally responds 🙏  

[19:29] Namjoon: Please do, otherwise I’ll kick his ass!

You smile at Namjoon’s last message, the warmth of his words lingering as you slip your phone back into your pocket. But a tangle of thoughts and emotions stirs within you. Namjoon seems genuinely hopeful for you and Hoseok, nudging you toward him with a gentle insistence that Hoseok might just need someone to reach out. You’d promised to try, but doubt lingers at the edges—what if it’s all in your head, an illusion woven by the quiet moments you shared and the loneliness he wore like a mask?  

Yet, the image of Hoseok as the “brightest person,” as Namjoon described, sits heavy in your mind. What could have dimmed that light? And as you glance out at the book club gathering, a part of you wonders if, somehow, there’s still a chance to bring a bit of that warmth back to him.

Hoseok finds himself aching for your smile, the warmth you seemed to pour out effortlessly, and the sharp, clever humor that softened his edges in ways he didn’t expect. Namjoon’s words echo in his mind, words that have been unraveling him slowly, urging him toward the chance to make things right. With his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his feet carry him almost unconsciously toward your bookstore. He knows you’re working tonight, but he doesn’t care about timing or convenience; he only knows he needs to see you, to finally apologize and hope you’ll give him even a moment of your time. He’s prepared to accept whatever you’re willing to offer—even if it’s a closed door.

As he steps inside, the familiar warmth and scent of cinnamon and worn paper embrace him, comforting and bittersweet. You glance up from the counter, and the softness of your smile catches him off guard; relief flickers in his chest—you haven’t yet written him off. He makes his way over to you, offering a tentative, apologetic smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, noticing the subtle spark in your eyes, something between surprise and hope. “I came to order a coffee…and give you a proper apology,” he adds, his voice warm, almost pleading.

You let out a small chuckle, the sound light but genuine, and turn to make his coffee. “Is this one to go?” you ask, an amused smile tugging at your lips.

“No,” he replies, a hint of a grin breaking through his seriousness. “Actually, I was hoping for one of those festive mugs, and maybe to borrow a book and stay for a while—if that’s okay.”

A warmth lights up your eyes, and he feels his heart lift, his nerves unraveling just a little. “I think that’s a great idea,” you say, and reach for a whimsical reindeer mug, the kind with a scarf winding into the handle, speckled with snowflakes. You fill it with steaming coffee, setting it before him with a soft, inviting smile.

Hoseok’s gaze drops to the mug as he gathers his thoughts, then he looks up, meeting your eyes as he speaks. “I owe you an apology,” he begins, his voice low and earnest. “For everything. I know there’s no excuse, but Christmas has always been…well, it’s not exactly my season,” he trails off, catching himself rambling, and gives a nervous chuckle. “But I didn’t mean to take that out on you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, truly, and I’ll try to be better.”

The smile you give him is small but warm, like a flicker of forgiveness, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he can start letting go of his past.

You hand him the reindeer mug, warm and brimming with rich coffee, smiling as you pass it to him. “I’m glad to hear it, Hoseok. You were acting like an ass there for a bit,” you say with a playful glint in your eyes, “but that’s in the past now—you’ve apologized.” Gently, you slide the mug across the counter toward him. “Here’s your coffee. Pick out whatever book catches your eye,” you add softly, your voice warm.

He nods, pausing for a moment as he clears his throat. “Actually,” he begins, a bit hesitant, “that poetry book you recommended for Namjoon…do you have another copy?”

“I do,” you say with a quick smile, nodding toward the poetry section. “It’s right over there.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs, wrapping his hands around the mug and savoring its warmth. “Figured I could use a little introspective magic.” With that, he takes a long sip, the comfort of the mug slowly thawing his cold fingers.

He makes his way to the poetry shelves, pulls down the book, and settles into one of the plush armchairs in the corner. For a long time, he reads quietly, the pages offering him solace in ways he hadn’t expected. While his usual reads lean more toward comics, he feels something settle inside him as he lets himself sink into the rhythmic flow of the verses. Every so often, he looks up to see you moving gracefully through the shop, helping customers, laughing softly with a warmth that feels magnetic. He realizes, almost with a pang, that this warmth is something he used to feel too, before the shadows crept in. Maybe that’s part of the draw he feels toward you—you radiate the kind of light he’s been missing.

From the corner of his eye, he notices you glancing over at him, and when he catches your gaze, a soft blush creeps up your cheeks. You offer a shy smile, and he returns it with a gentle wave, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, nestled into that armchair, his coffee long finished and now sipping tea. Hours seem to slip by, but he doesn’t mind. As he flips through the poems, he’s surprised by how deeply they resonate with him. Some verses are quiet and sad, others comforting, and some seem to reach into the bruised places he’d long tried to ignore. He closes the book, his heart feeling just a little less heavy, and places it back on the shelf.

Finally, he walks to the counter, holding the empty mug in his hands. A grateful smile lingers on his lips as he approaches you, words forming in his mind like the first sparks of something new.

“It’s getting late, so I should head home,” he says softly, a smile spreading across his face. “Thank you for the coffee and…the poetry. Your store feels like a warm hug, honestly—cozy and comforting.”

You smile, touched by his words. “That’s exactly the atmosphere I was hoping for,” you reply, taking the mug from his hands and placing it on the tray to be cleaned later. 

He lingers, shifting slightly, his eyes dancing around the room as he gathers the courage for what he wants to say next. “I, uh…” he clears his throat, glancing up at you, “I’d like to come back sometime soon. Maybe we could actually hang out?” His voice wavers just a little, and you catch the flicker of nerves in his expression.

A playful grin tugs at your lips as you raise an eyebrow. “Are you asking me out on a date?” you tease, letting a hint of mischief dance in your gaze.

A blush creeps into his cheeks, but he nods, smiling shyly. “Yeah, actually… I’d like to take you out. Not here in your store. How about a movie or something?” he mumbles, trying to hide his hopefulness.

“A movie sounds nice,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your own chest.

“How about the day after tomorrow?” he asks, his eyes brightening with relief and anticipation.

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Sure.”

His blush deepens, and his grin widens as he waves goodbye, stepping out into the night air. As he heads home, he feels lighter, like a weight has lifted, the warmth of your smile lingering with him, warming him even as the winter wind swirls around.

Hoseok insisted on watching one of those cheerful Christmas movies, the kind that swells with improbable reunions and holiday cheer, even though you’d told him he didn’t have to—any genre would’ve been fine. But he’d insisted, almost stubbornly, saying that it’s what he wanted. Yet, even as the lights dim and you settle in, you can feel the irony of it: this bright, glittering warmth on screen, and something distant in his gaze that it doesn’t quite reach. 

You’ve got a tub of buttery popcorn between you and sodas on the floor by your feet, but your attention isn’t really on the movie. Something about a girl rediscovering her family…you’ve seen it before, enough times to know every twist and turn by heart. Instead, you focus on the space between you, the openness of your hand resting on the armrest, waiting for him to close the gap. When he does, intertwining his fingers with yours, a soft thrill of warmth lights up your chest. 

He hums contentedly, gently squeezing your fingers, and after a while, his head leans softly against your shoulder, his breathing falling into a slow, steady rhythm. When you glance down, you realize he’s drifted off, and a small smile tugs at your lips. He must be exhausted, though you don’t even know what he does for work, what fills his days with the kind of weight that would make him fall asleep so quickly.

You let him rest, his warmth comforting against your shoulder, and time slips away until the credits roll and the lights blink back on. As he stirs, blinking sleepily and straightening up, a hint of embarrassment flickers across his face, but you brush it off with a reassuring smile, finding that you liked the feeling of him resting against you.

“Want to come back to my bookstore?” you ask as you both step out into the cold night, snowflakes swirling gently around you. Your fingers find his again, as natural as breathing. “We could have a drink. It’s closed for the holidays, so it’d be just the two of us,” you add with a smile, looking up at him.

He yawns, nodding. “I’d really like that.”

You walk together through the snow-dusted streets, laughter mingling with your steps, until you reach the bookstore, keys jingling in your hands as you unlock the door. Inside, the quiet space welcomes you both, the ceiling lit with floating snowflakes casting a soft glow over the shelves and cozy reading nooks. You both shrug off your coats, and you lead him into the back of the store, where the barista machine hums quietly in the corner.

“How about hot cocoa?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s a little late for coffee.”

He nods, a soft smile touching his lips as he settles into one of the armchairs. You start grinding cocoa beans, the rich aroma filling the air, and set two festive mugs beneath the machine, watching as it pours thick, velvety cocoa. The air is warm, and somehow you feel more at home in this quiet moment than you have all season, the world outside reduced to the gentle hush of falling snow.

With the cocoa steaming in your hands, you settle into one of the oversized, cloud-soft couches, and he sits across from you, mirroring your small, hesitant smile. The bookstore feels like a world away from the outside, a sanctuary where the soft hum of holiday lights flickers gently, and the scent of chocolate mingles with the faint, comforting smell of old books.

You take a slow sip, letting the warmth fill you. “So,” you ask, voice gentle but direct, “do you want to tell me why you hate Christmas so much?”

He pauses, caught off guard, nearly choking on his own cocoa, and you watch his face flush, caught somewhere between embarrassment and hesitation. Realizing you’ve gone right to the heart of it, you quickly add, “You don’t have to, of course. I’m just…curious. But it’s okay if you’re not ready.”

For a moment, he seems to shrink inward, his face turning soft with a sadness that feels ancient, like a weight he’s carried for too long. He takes a breath that’s almost a shudder, expanding his chest as if even breathing through it hurts.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he says finally, his voice so low it’s barely a whisper. “It’s that I’m scared you’ll look at me differently, that I’ll just…bring you down.” His words are vulnerable, stripped bare, trembling with the unspoken.

Reaching out a little, you reassure him, “I won’t. I promise. But really, there’s no pressure. You only have to share what feels right.”

He nods, but there’s something in his gaze that shifts—like he’s waging a silent battle, torn between hiding and the need to unburden himself. He fidgets with his fingers, then places his mug carefully on the table, as though any movement could shatter the quiet around you.

“It’s just…” He hesitates, casting his gaze downward, then continues, “I want to tell you, because…well, only my closest friends know. And I think you deserve to know too, since I’ve been such an ass to you…” he trails off with a nervous laugh, tinged with sadness.

Taking a deep breath, he begins. “It happened when I was seventeen,” he says, voice low and brittle. You set your own mug down, instinctively leaning forward, drawn to the rawness of his words.

“It was Christmas Eve,” he says softly, staring past you, somewhere into the painful fog of memory. “There was a storm—snow swirling thick, icy roads. And…” He pauses, his voice trembling, his words hitching, thick with emotion.

Instinctively, you move over to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he struggles for composure, his breath shaky. Leaning into your touch, he swallows hard, gathering the words from somewhere deep, each one a fragile release.

“My parents and my sister…” he chokes out, his voice shattering into tears, and you draw him closer, feeling him tremble against you. One of his hands finds yours, his grip tight, holding onto you as though he fears the memory might pull him under.

“They died,” he whispers, and the words break free like a dam bursting. His shoulders shake as the full force of his grief surfaces, raw and unrestrained. He buries his face in his hands, and you gently place a hand on his back, offering the quiet comfort of your presence as he unburdens himself.

He leans into you, surrendering to the weight of years of sorrow. “And it’s all my fault,” he sobs, the words barely discernible through his heaving breaths.

Softly, you murmur, “How do you figure that?” Your voice is low, gentle, as though you’re trying to hold him steady with your words.

“Because…” He trails off, swallowing hard. “I asked them to go out that day. The star on the tree was broken, and I’d wanted everything to be perfect, so they went out just to get a new one. And they never came back.”

His confession lingers in the air, heavy, each word carving deeper into the silence. You pull him close, holding him as he cries, his sobs echoing softly through the quiet bookstore. 

You pull him closer, letting your warmth envelop him like a soft blanket, as if you could shield him from the pain he’s held onto for so long. “But it wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, gently, your words like a balm, “How could it be? They were adults, Hoseok. If they hadn’t wanted to go, they wouldn’t have. You didn’t force them, didn’t ask for a storm. It’s horrible and tragic, yes, and I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this, but…it’s not your fault.”

A sob breaks from him, raw and filled with years of bottled sorrow. “But it is,” he cries, his voice catching, “If I hadn’t been so insistent about that damn star, if I hadn’t wanted everything to be fucking perfect…”

Tenderly, you tighten your embrace, gently rubbing his back. “But you can’t know that, Hoseok. No one could know.” Your words are soft but sure, reassuring, each one carrying a warmth you hope he can feel. “Sometimes…things just happen, things we can’t control.”

“It’s been over a decade,” he says, his voice a fragile echo. “But every Christmas—every snowstorm, every time I see the lights, I’m right back there. All I see is them, and I hate it.” His voice trembles with anger, grief, and resentment. “I hate the snow, I hate the holidays. That storm, those roads…it’s all ruined for me.” He breaks again, the words torn from him, and you hold him through his tears, letting him release everything he’s held in, feeling each tremor as he cries.

For a while, you just stay there, giving him the space to let the sorrow pour out, letting him lean into you fully. You say nothing, just hold him, until the sobs subside to quiet sniffles. His voice barely a whisper, he murmurs, “I just want them to come back…” and the raw ache in his words tugs at your heart.

Your chest tightens with empathy, the pain he’s carried so vividly there before you. The weight of it all is almost unbearable, and now you see why he’s buried his light under layers of grief for so long. But there’s something else there, too—a longing to break free, if he only knew how.

Finally, you find the words, speaking softly. “Look, Hoseok…I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through. And it’s unfair, all of it. But you’ve carried this for so long, like a stone around your neck, dragging you down. It’s part of you, yes, but maybe…maybe it doesn’t have to define every part of you forever. What if you could let a little of it go?”

He’s quiet, thinking, eyes still glistening. “I don’t think I can,” he says softly, looking at you as though searching for permission to forgive himself. “Maybe I don’t deserve to be happy…”

You reach for his hand, guiding his gaze to meet yours. “Hoseok,” you say, voice steady but warm, “we all deserve to be happy. We’ve all faced loss and scars that linger, but we don’t have to carry them like this. I’m not saying you need to forget, but…maybe you can let the pain be something else now, something softer, something that blooms instead of weighs you down.”

He looks at you, brow furrowed, as though he’s trying to understand. “Like turning it into something beautiful?” he asks, his voice so low, so vulnerable.

“Yes,” you nod, a small smile breaking through. “Like tending to it, like planting seeds where the pain was, and seeing what beautiful things might grow. Hold onto that pain, but let it bloom into something beautiful rather than letting it scar. Nurture it like a garden, tend to it with care, so that the memories don’t define you, but become parts of you that you can cherish, like petals of a rose you keep alive. New memories, maybe. Or something to honor what you loved about them.”

He looks up, eyes glistening with tears, and yet you can’t help but think he looks so heartbreakingly beautiful like this—vulnerable, raw, his heart laid bare.

He stares into the distance, thinking, his fingers still laced with yours. For the first time, you catch a glimmer of hope in his eyes, fragile but alive. The weight is still there, but something else is there now, too—a softness, a beginning.

“Namjoon told me you used to be like the sun itself, and I think it’s time to let your light shine again. I can see glimpses of that warmth, those pieces of who you were. You deserve happiness, Hoseok. Don’t you think?” Your hand gently cradles his cheek, thumb brushing softly against his skin.

His breath shudders, voice rough and tremulous. “I… I’m not sure.”

You squeeze his hands, a comforting weight. “I’m not saying it will happen overnight. But you deserve the world, and maybe…maybe it’s time to let yourself imagine that.” You search his face, noticing the exhaustion in the redness of his eyes, the weariness clinging to him like a shadow. He’s been carrying his world alone, and it’s wearing him down, thread by thread.

“Listen,” you whisper, “we don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight. You look so tired. How about this—I’ll find some blankets, and we can sleep on the couch, together?” Your arms hold him close, an offer of sanctuary, one he so clearly needs.

He nods, and you rise to gather the blankets, arranging them softly around him before settling beside him. You help him lie down, his head resting on your lap as your fingers drift tenderly through his soft brown hair, tracing gentle circles. Your fingertips graze the shell of his ear, and you feel a delicate shiver ripple through him. Slowly, his breathing steadies, the tension in his face unwinding as you touch his cheek softly. His eyes flutter shut, though a few quiet tears slip free, trailing down the bridge of his nose to rest, shimmering, on your thigh.

“I’m so sorry you lost them,” you murmur, voice almost a breath against the quiet. “I’m so, so sorry. But I’m sure your parents and sister would want to see you smile again, to see you living freely.”

He hums faintly, a soft sound that melts into the stillness, leaning unconsciously into the warmth of your hand. With a tender impulse, you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, your lips meeting his skin like a promise. “You’re a beautiful sunflower, Hobi,” you whisper, the words a soft caress.

A small, fragile smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his breaths deepening as he drifts, his body finally surrendering to sleep. Your heart aches for this gentle soul, and yet you feel strength in the quiet resolve settling over you. Though you’ve barely begun to know him, you feel an undeniable pull—to protect, to nurture, to help him find his way back to the light. You want to see him reclaim the happiness he’s buried, for you feel, deep down, that he deserves it more than anyone.

As you press your hand softly against his shoulder, you settle beside him, closing your own eyes, and together, under the soft weight of blankets, you both drift into the quiet peace of sleep.

His chest feels strangely lighter, as if the weight he’s carried so long has finally loosened its hold. The scent of old paper mingles with a trace of last night’s cocoa, stirring softly around him, and he opens his eyes to find two forgotten mugs, their contents now cold, sitting on the table. Morning light streams through the bookstore’s large windows, casting delicate beams across the room, where tiny particles of dust dance and swirl like winter snowflakes caught in a golden glow.

And then it hits him—he’s in your bookstore. He fell asleep here, his heart laid bare, resting in your gentle embrace. Last night, he poured out his grief, his regrets, his guilt, and you’d held him in the quiet safety of your lap, soothing him with words that linger in the air, as soft as the dawn light now filtering in. He feels a warmth settle in his chest, something lighter and more hopeful taking root, gently nudging the darkness aside.

He turns, catching sight of you still asleep beside him, your lashes fluttering against your cheek in the gentlest rhythm, like the delicate wings of a butterfly resting between flights. You look so serene, so quietly beautiful, and in this moment, he feels his heart expand, filled with a quiet gratitude and a strange, new kind of peace. He isn’t fully healed—not yet—but he feels the faintest beginnings of something brighter, a light beginning to shift within him.

You were right, he realizes. He doesn’t have to carry his grief alone, doesn’t have to let it take root so deeply. His friends had tried to tell him before, but somehow, he’d resisted. With you, though, it felt different. Maybe it’s the way you looked past the jagged edges of his sorrow and saw the flicker of light he thought he’d lost. Maybe it’s the way you listened, without pity, without judgment, your compassion flowing freely, like a balm to his worn-out soul. He feels a rush of quiet reverence—for your kindness, for the safe harbor you offered, for the hope you unknowingly planted in him. And he knows, somehow, he’ll carry this moment with him forever.

You stir softly beneath him, your body stretching as you wake. Your eyes meet his, soft and warm, and in that gentle gaze he feels understood in a way he hadn’t thought possible. You smile, a tender smile that feels like the start of something new.

“I loved our talk yesterday,” you murmur, voice laced with warmth and care. “How are you feeling?”

He hums softly, the morning light catching the hint of a smile on his lips, “I feel… lighter, actually.”

“That’s good. I’m so glad,” you whisper, fingers tracing gently along his cheek, your touch soft and warm. A shiver rolls through him, and he feels goosebumps rise, like your kindness has left its own quiet mark on his skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice tender and full. “Thank you for listening, for everything… truly.”

You smile, brushing a strand of his hair back with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t do anything—you did that,” you say, your voice a soft tease. 

He chuckles, feeling his heart swell as he sinks a little deeper into your lap, his gaze locked on yours. “You’re good with words,” he replies, leaning into your touch, feeling a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long.

“I read a lot,” you chuckle, fingers weaving gently through his hair, each stroke grounding him more fully into this quiet moment.

He clears his throat, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an unexpected tenderness, “What are you doing tomorrow? On Christmas Eve.”

You pause, a flicker of surprise lighting your eyes before you break into a gentle smile. “Nothing, why?”

A smile spreads across his face, slow and earnest. “I’d really like it if you’d come to my place. I want to make dinner for you, to thank you. For all of this.”

Your eyes soften, glistening with a look he can’t quite decipher, something warm and unspoken that makes his heart beat a little faster. And then, leaning closer, you brush a kiss against his cheek, your lips feather-light and warm.

“I’d love to,” you whisper, and your words, simple as they are, feel like the beginning of something he hadn’t dared hope for.

It’s Christmas Eve, and the quiet streets are bathed in the soft, amber glow of street lamps, their light dancing on the fresh blanket of snow as you wait for the bus that will carry you to Hoseok’s place. A warmth bubbles up inside you as you think back to yesterday—when you finally glimpsed the beautiful light that has always flickered behind his eyes. That warmth wrapped around you, like a blanket on a cold winter night, and filled your heart with a joy you can’t quite put into words. 

Seated now in the gentle hum of the bus, you press your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the world blur past in a whirl of twinkling lights and shadows. Your mind keeps drifting back to Hoseok, that ray of sunshine who’s somehow already become a quiet storm in your chest. You’ve never felt like this for anyone—never this quickly, never this intensely. You know you like him deeply, but there’s so much more to discover. This dinner, you think, could be the start of that journey. 

As the soft strains of Christmas music fill your ears, you imagine what his home might look like—wondering if it would feel as warm and comforting as his presence. The bus slows, and you press the stop button when you realize the next stop is just a heartbeat away from Hoseok’s apartment. The doors open, and you step out into the crisp, dark afternoon, your breath puffing out in delicate clouds as you trudge through the snow, boots crunching with each step toward his building. Finally, you find it. You shake the snow off your boots before making your way up the stairs, your heart fluttering as you ascend to the right floor. You reach his door and knock gently, anticipation coursing through your veins. It’s only moments before the door swings open, and you’re met with an embrace of warmth—both from the cozy glow spilling out from inside and from the inviting scent of something delicious drifting in the air.

Hoseok stands before you, wearing a red Christmas apron, with a pocket embroidered with Santa and snowflakes at the edges. The sight catches you off guard, and you can’t help but smile, your heart swelling in your chest. “Wow,” you begin, taken by surprise, but he grins back, the same joyful light in his eyes. “—Handsome, right?” he finishes your thought with a laugh, and you join in, smiling even brighter. “Yeah,” you laugh, nodding, “That’s exactly what I was going to say.” You slip off your coat and shoes, feeling the warmth of his home wrap around you like a soft embrace.

You look down at your dress, a silky golden thing that rests just above your knees, with the barest hint of your collarbone exposed. Beneath the apron, you catch the outline of his dress shirt, festively adorned with Christmas prints, and the way his dress pants fit him perfectly. Without thinking, you reach out, gently grasping his bicep, surprised by how solid and strong it feels beneath your touch. You open your mouth to speak, to tell him something—anything—but for a moment, the words slip away, leaving you with only the quiet flutter of your heartbeat.

“I used to go all out at Christmas,” Hoseok says, his voice soft, catching your gaze as he notices you watching him. “When my family was still alice… it was kinda our tradition. And,” he pauses, the weight of the memories hanging between you both, “I thought maybe I should replace those dark memories with new ones. Water the flowers, like you suggested.” 

The sincerity in his voice pulls at your heart, and you feel a warmth spread inside you. He really took your rambling words to heart, didn’t he? It’s almost too much, the way he’s reaching for healing, for light. You blink quickly, trying to stop the tears from spilling over—because God, if he keeps this up, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold it together. 

He smiles softly at you, a smile that carries both gratitude and something more, before gently guiding you into his home with a hand resting at the small of your back. “Come in,” he murmurs, as if he’s sharing more than just his space, as if he’s offering you a piece of himself. 

You step inside, and the atmosphere is instantly warm, comforting—like stepping into a dream where all the colors and memories belong exactly where they are. His personal items are scattered thoughtfully around the room, each object, each piece of art, telling a story of the man himself. The walls are adorned with splashes of color, vibrant yet intimate, as if the house breathes with the same life that hums in his veins. It’s the kind of home that makes you smile involuntarily, grounded and cozy, much like him. 

You follow him into the kitchen, small but inviting, its walls holding the scent of simmering food and something more—something like hope. Your stomach rumbles with anticipation as you watch him finish off the last details of the meal, every movement graceful and purposeful. It’s like watching an artist at work, and your senses are overwhelmed by the delicious aroma that fills the air.

He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up with an easy, practiced motion, revealing arms veined and strong—muscles flexing as his hand moves to stir the pan. Your mind drifts for a moment, caught between admiration and the soft, flickering thoughts that begin to dance behind your eyes. His presence feels like the warmth of the sun—comforting, yet powerful.

“Do you want wine?” he asks, his gaze meeting yours as he reaches for a heat-resistant mat to place the pan on. 

“Yeah, but just one glass,” you answer, your voice steady. You don’t want to cloud the clarity you feel in this moment—not today. Not with this quiet intimacy swirling between you two, a pull that feels magnetic, like you’re drawn in by the gravity of his kindness and the warmth of the space he’s shared with you. 

When you step into the dining room, the sight before you takes your breath away. The table is set perfectly—candles flicker gently, casting a soft glow across the room, while a delicate Christmas playlist hums in the background. The ambiance feels like something pulled from a dream, and your heart flutters as you take it all in. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, your voice quiet with awe, still unable to fully comprehend the effort he’s put into making this evening so special.

Hoseok chuckles softly, a smile curling at the corners of his lips as he drags a stool out for you to sit. “Actually,” he says, placing the food carefully on the table, his eyes warm and earnest, “I had to. It’s the least I can do.” He pours wine into your glass, his fingers brushing the stem gently, and as he looks up at you, something shifts between you both—something that feels like the beginning of a new story.

You blush and smile, warmth blooming inside you, feeling a kind of happiness that only his presence seems to create. It’s a glow that wraps around you like a soft, sunlit blanket, a feeling you know he brings to others when he’s not weighed down by his sorrow. But tonight, Hoseok is different—lighter, freer. He’s like a person emerging from the dark, letting the painful past be nothing more than distant echoes, fading into the background of his life. There’s a spark in his eyes, a lightness to his spirit that wasn’t there yesterday. You know the sadness still lingers in him, but damn, seeing him fight to reclaim joy is nothing short of beautiful.

His movements are more confident now, flowing with a grace that seems to echo his shifting mood. The pain didn’t vanish overnight, but he’s making a conscious choice to let go, to change, and that’s the most powerful thing. It feels like watching someone wake up, piece by piece, from a long and heavy slumber.

You take a sip of your wine, and the quiet hum of contentment fills the space between you. As you begin to eat, the flavors on your tongue are nothing short of heavenly, and you realize—he’s not just kind, not just tender, but he’s an incredible cook too. Your heart swells, and you glance at him, finding his smile—soft, genuine, a reflection of the warmth that’s spilling out from inside him. He’s smiling with his eyes, and it makes you feel elated, like everything in the world has aligned just perfectly. 

Then, you feel something nudge against your foot, warm and gentle, and your gaze drops to see his foot brushing against yours. You can’t help but giggle, a little burst of joy that seems to bubble up from your chest. You drink a little more, letting the wine relax your senses as you continue eating, savoring every bite until you’re almost too full to move.

“This was so delicious, Hobi,” you say, your voice soft, full of admiration, as your hand stretches across the table, finding its way to gently caress his. 

He smiles, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he meets your eyes. “Mh. Thank you,” he murmurs, the words wrapped in warmth.

“But you’re the one who deserves all the thanks and praises,” he adds, his voice thick with sincerity, his gaze never leaving yours. You blink, surprised by the depth of his words, and feel your heart stir with a tenderness you can’t quite explain.

“Me?” you laugh, a little incredulous, the sound light and playful, like you’re both caught in this beautiful moment of connection.

“Yeah,” he nods, his voice low and filled with gratitude, “if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the strength to face my pain, to let the old me—the me I thought was lost—come back to life.” 

His words settle in your chest, heavy with truth, and it stirs something deep inside you. 

“Instead of sitting here with you today,” he continues, his voice raw and real, “I’d probably be lying in bed, bitter, angry at the world and everyone in it. But here I am, actually enjoying Christmas. Actually enjoying life again.” 

The rawness of his honesty catches you off guard, and your heart aches with the beauty of it. A few tears well in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming sweetness of his words. His gratitude, so pure and so deeply felt, moves you in ways you didn’t expect.

He caresses your hand back, the warmth of his touch sending a ripple of warmth through your chest. “Thank you for guiding me back towards the light,” he whispers, his voice soft yet resolute, the sincerity in it making your heart swell. 

Your eyes flutter, feeling a mixture of gratitude and happiness for him. This is the light you saw the moment you met him—the flicker of hope beneath the surface of his pain—and now, with gentle patience, he’s found his way back to it. To see him embrace it, to see him live in it again, is nothing short of breathtaking. And in that moment, you realize just how incredibly sexy that is—this strength, this vulnerability wrapped in his quiet confidence. 

Without thinking, driven by the pull of something deeper, you lean in across the table, closing the distance between you, and your lips meet his in a kiss so tender it almost feels like the world stops. 

For a fleeting second, there’s hesitation in him—surprise, perhaps—but then his hands cradle your cheeks, his fingers slipping into your hair, and he moans into the kiss, pulling you closer, deepening it. 

Your heart races, the connection between you sparking like wildfire. You think, with a flash of clarity, that it was only ever a matter of time before this moment arrived, before your lips touched in the way they were always meant to. 

When you pull apart, his brown eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, as are yours, and you feel the heat between you intensify, every nerve in your body alive with the electricity of the moment. 

He leans in again, lips brushing against yours as his breath quickens, and you feel something stir within you, something deep and primal, fluttering in your chest. 

He pulls back again, and his voice is laced with desire, hushed but intense. “Do you want to see my bed? It’s nice and soft,” he asks, his gaze still smoldering.

You blush, the heat rising to your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh—a breathy sound, teasing and full of playful mischief. “Yes, but I’m more into the harder beds.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening into something more dangerous, more magnetic. “You are, are you? So you like it hard?” His voice is low, a dangerous edge to it now, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. 

“Maybe,” you tease, batting your lashes as your heart begins to race. You rise from the stool, the air between you thick with unspoken promises.

“Which way to your bedroom?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, the heat between you palpable, electric. You can already feel the pull of him, the temptation of what’s to come.

He stands up, his hand reaching out for yours, and you feel the warmth of his touch ignite something inside of you. “This way,” he murmurs, his fingers threading through yours as he leads you through the tiny hallway.

Every step feels heavier than the last, the anticipation building like a slow crescendo, your pulse quickening with every heartbeat. The air feels thick with tension, charged, like a storm ready to break. As you step into his bedroom, the world outside seems to disappear, and all that exists is him—his presence, his touch, the way he’s looking at you with that fire in his eyes.

Before you can take another breath, he pulls you into his arms, one hand sliding behind your neck, the other settling on the small of your back. His lips crash into yours, deep and smoldering, igniting the very air between you. You melt into him, your heart pounding in your chest, your body aching for the closeness, for everything that’s about to unfold.

His tongue dances with yours, a teasing, intoxicating rhythm that sends shivers through your bones, a soft, helpless moan slipping past your lips and into his. The air between you is electric, alive with a pulse that pulls you both closer until clothes become mere shadows cast aside, and your chests rise and fall in time, breaths mingling as one. He guides you down onto the bed, and you gasp, bouncing softly against the mattress, a laugh escaping you—only to dissolve as he hovers above, his gaze dark and consuming, savoring every curve, every inch as though you were his finest vintage.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick, reverent, as his hands trace along your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You shiver, the warmth of his touch awakening every inch, every nerve, until your skin hums under his fingertips. His lips descend, his breath warm against your skin as he moves lower, his gaze holding yours in a promise, a delicious anticipation that pools and aches within you.

“Can I touch you, make you come on my tongue?” he whispers, his voice low, pleased. You nod, breath hitching, and when you gasp a desperate ‘yes,’ he presses deeper, spreading you open, his lips finding your pussy, soft and warm, as a shudder rushes through you like a wave.

He doesn't hesitate, diving in, his tongue moving in slow, devastating circles that steal your breath, exploring you with the kind of hunger that unravels you. You gasp, hands tangling in his hair as he wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you steady, his own groans vibrating against your skin as his mouth moves against you, relentless, devoted. The wet sounds echo, shamelessly intimate, drawing you closer to that edge, your pulse quickening as his nose brushes your clit, a shockwave of pleasure sparking up your spine.

Your fingers knot into his hair, tugging, a fevered plea spilling from your lips as he drives you higher. A skilled flick, a press, and your hips roll forward, chasing the pleasure he's offering, breath coming fast and shallow. “Hobi,” you gasp, feeling the tidal pull of release, the wave cresting just at the brink. “I’m so close, I—”

He pulls back only briefly, his voice a husky command. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me taste it.”

The endearment sends a dizzying rush through you, a warmth that winds tight in your core, pushing you over the edge. With a final swirl of his tongue, you fall, your muscles clenching around him as his name shatters from your lips, your body arching, pulsing with every wave that rolls through you. He doesn't let up, holding you through every tremor, his mouth and fingers steady, pulling every last bit of pleasure from you.

When your breath finally slows, he trails kisses up your body, lingering over the swell of your hips, your stomach, each touch a worship. His mouth finds the hollow of your throat, then your jaw, his face gleaming with your warmth as he murmurs, “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“That tickles,” you giggle as his lips trail across your cheek, finally capturing your mouth in a tender, lingering kiss. There’s a faint taste of yourself on him, but it’s lost in the intoxicating warmth of his presence; you’re drunk on him, submerged in the depth of his touch, his scent, the pull of his breath against yours. It’s astonishing how deeply you feel for him already—as if you've known the quiet rhythm of his soul and the dance of his heart for years, not days that turned to weeks.

“Was it good?” he murmurs, his eyes bright and searching, holding a playful tenderness that only he seems to bring out in you.

“It was incredible,” you pant, your body slowly easing down from the dizzying high, a blissful afterglow humming through every inch of you.

“Then let me give you another,” he says with a teasing glint, the promise glistening in his voice as he leans closer.

You blink, surprised, a trace of doubt slipping through your words. “Are you sure?” It’s not that you question his skill—he’s just shown you what he’s capable of—but you’ve never been able to reach that edge twice in such quick succession.

His expression softens, his eyes tracing over your face with quiet understanding. “You’ve never orgasmed twice in a row, have you?” He asks, his voice gentle, knowing. You bite your lip, nodding, your cheeks warm.

“Then lean back, relax,” he whispers, a warmth threading through his voice that feels like a promise waiting to unfold. “Let me do all the work.”

He guides you to sit up, leaning comfortably against the headboard, and settles in beside you, close enough that his heat seems to melt into your own. With a soft, lingering kiss, his lips capture yours again, while his fingers trail a path down your body, finding the sensitive peak of your breast and teasing your nipple with a gentle, rhythmic squeeze that draws a moan from deep within you. His hand moves skillfully, squeezing, massaging, until your skin tingles beneath his touch, each sensation like a spark flickering into life.

When his hand finally moves lower, tracing the curve of your thigh, you’re already quivering with anticipation. His fingers find that sensitive spot between your legs, his touch feather-light but insistent as he circles your clit, the glide slick and warm, a sensation that sends tremors through your body. A soft moan escapes your lips, melting into his as his finger slips inside you, a slow, steady rhythm building as he moves in and out, each motion drawing you closer to that simmering heat just waiting to burst.

His lips never leave yours, each kiss drawing you deeper into the haze of his touch, your body moving in sync with his, rolling against him as his hand works its magic. You’re already beginning to unravel, each touch, each whisper against your skin making you feel like you’re on the verge of combustion. Not quite over the edge yet, but right there, teetering, every nerve alive, every inch of you utterly and completely his.

“Mmmhh,” he breathes against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before pulling away to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and inviting, filled with a warmth that makes your pulse quicken.

“Ah, Hobi,” you pant, your hips instinctively moving in sync with his hand, matching each subtle movement with a desperate rhythm.

“You like that, huh?” he teases, his voice soft but laced with a confidence that sends a shiver through you.

“I do,” you moan, breathy and unguarded. “You can… add another.”

He obliges, slipping a second finger beside the first, the added stretch sending a spark of pleasure rippling through you, and you can’t help the delighted mewl that escapes your lips. He moves with a steady, knowing rhythm, his fingers curling, finding just the right spots, each motion igniting something deeper, pulling you toward that familiar crest of pleasure. For the first time, you believe—maybe you could actually come again.

Your head falls back, resting against the headboard, and he seizes the moment, his mouth tracing along the exposed curve of your neck. His lips, warm and firm, press kisses to your skin, each one sending a wave of electricity through you, and as his teeth graze just beneath your ear, you giggle softly, your body instinctively clenching around his fingers.

“You’re so tight,” he whispers, his breath hot in your ear, each word brushing against your skin like velvet, sending delightful shivers coursing through you. “Think you can handle a third finger?”

Your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping as you murmur, “Maybe… Are you getting me ready for that monster cock of yours?” you tease, voice wavering with laughter and heat.

He laughs, the sound low and deep, and slides a third finger inside, his mouth brushing your ear as he murmurs, “I’ve got to make sure your sweet, tiny pussy can take me.”

The words strike something in you, a spark that seems to light you from within. Your body welcomes the stretch, feeling fuller, each movement of his fingers heightening the tension building inside you, every push and curl driving you closer to the edge. You’re lost, breathless, a soundless cry caught in your throat as his thumb grazes your clit, sending you spiraling, stars dancing in your vision as pleasure wells up from within.

“Are you close again, sweetheart?” he whispers, voice thick with desire, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling in a way that’s both messy and perfect, igniting every nerve.

“Yes,” you gasp, the word more a breath than a sound, your hips rolling in time with his hand as he dips his head to your neck, then your cheek, each touch gentle, yet searing. He catches a stray tear of ecstasy on his lips, and then he finds your mouth, kissing you deeply, his body pressing against yours, chest against your breasts, the closeness amplifying every sensation. The world fades around you, narrowing to just the two of you, to his fingers, his lips, his warmth, everything feeling achingly right.

Before you know it, you’re tumbling over the edge, your body pulsing around his fingers as he moves within you, steady, guiding you through every wave of your release. You’re left breathless, panting, as the pleasure washes over you, his fingers still moving, coaxing every last tremor from you, until you’re spent, lost in the warmth of his embrace.

“See?” he grins, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “I told you I could make you come again.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he slowly withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty, your body still pulsing in the delicious aftershocks of his touch. He holds his slick fingers in front of you, and for a moment, you think he’ll ask you to taste yourself. But instead, he surprises you, lifting his fingers to his own mouth, his lips parting as he sucks them clean, his gaze locked onto yours. The sight sends a rush of heat through you, and your body responds instinctively, clenching at the image of his self-indulgent pleasure.

“That was… incredibly hot,” you murmur, still breathless, your hand finding his chest as you push him gently back against the headboard. He gives a soft, surprised laugh but lets you take the lead, his body relaxed, trusting. His legs part under your touch, his cock heavy and hard between them, and you feel a rush of excitement knowing he’s been waiting, building up desire, just for you.

“Oh, okay,” he breathes, his voice breaking into a pant as you lean in. You spit into your hand, wrapping it firmly around his dick, feeling the warmth of him under your palm, the slight pulse of anticipation. His eyes close, his head tilting back, a moan slipping from his lips as you begin, your hand gliding over his length, making sure every inch is slick and ready for you.

Without hesitation, you bring your mouth down to him, taking him in fully, your lips stretching around him as you ease down. He gasps, his body jerking slightly, unprepared for the sudden depth, and you stay there, breathing steadily, relaxing as you let him fill you completely. Above you, he murmurs something unintelligible, a string of curses and soft sighs that only drive you further.

You pull back, letting him slip from your lips with a soft, wet sound, the cool air hitting his skin as he opens his mouth, stunned. “Damn, Y/N, I—”

But before he can finish, you take him in again, his words dissolving into a low groan as you move, finding a rhythm, hollowing your cheeks around him as you hum, feeling him pulse with each sound. The slight salt of his precum lingers on your tongue, a taste that feels both intimate and thrilling. His hands find your head, fingers threading into your hair, and you feel him tense above you, fighting for control. But then his grip tightens, and he pushes you down gently, deeper, a raw, breathless whisper escaping him.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice breaking as you take him all the way in again, your eyes watering slightly, the warmth of him filling you completely. He presses his palms to your cheeks, drawing you up, meeting you with a hungry kiss, his mouth capturing yours in a fervor that leaves you both breathless, your bodies pressed close as if to savor every last taste, every last touch.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his eyes meeting yours, deep pools of desire and awe, the kind of look that sends warmth pooling low in your belly.

You giggle, shifting down the bed and tugging at his legs, playfully coaxing him to lie flat beneath you. As he settles back, you crawl over him, gazing down, feeling the heat between you like a magnetic pull. Slowly, you lean down, capturing his lips, letting the kiss deepen until it feels like you’re both tumbling into something endless.

When you pull back, your voice soft, you ask, “Are you okay with doing it raw?” His face flushes, his eyes darting to the side for a moment, vulnerable, unguarded. “If you have condoms, that’s fine too… I’m clean, and—”

He interrupts, his words stumbling. “It’s fine. I—It’s been a long time for me, but… it’s not like I haven’t… I mean, I’m not a virgin… it’s just been a while since—”

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft smile, your other hand resting on the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “I don’t care,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded with desire. “I just want you. Right here, right now.”

He inhales deeply, his chest expanding under your hand before he breathes out, a quiet “Mkay.”

That’s all you need. With a slow, deliberate motion, you swing your leg over his hips, settling yourself above him, your hand finding him, guiding his dick to you. Gently, you press yourself against him, letting the head of his cock tease you, a tantalizing friction that makes his face tighten with a mixture of pleasure and impatience.

“Don’t tease,” he pants, his voice a husky whisper.

“Says the master of teasing,” you quip back with a grin, and finally, you begin to lower yourself onto him, savoring each exquisite inch as he fills you, stretching you with an overwhelming, delicious pressure. Every nerve ignites as you sink down, hands splayed on his chest, his skin hot and firm beneath your palms. His eyes stay locked on yours, dark and hungry, and as you begin to roll your hips, a soft moan escapes you—he feels so perfect.

“God, you’re so big,” you murmur, voice wavering as you ride him, your movements picking up a steady rhythm, each glide smooth and effortless, your body still sensitive and wet from the pleasure he’s already given you.

“You look so beautiful on top of me,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe as he watches you, his gaze tracing the way your body moves, the rise and fall of your breasts as you ride him. His words make your pulse race, and your body clenches around him in response, your hips picking up speed, moving faster, deeper, chasing that place inside you where everything blurs into pure sensation.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses, your mouth finding a spot just below his jaw where you suck softly, marking him as yours. He groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you closer as if he can’t get enough, his need written in every small movement.

When your lips return to his, he kisses you fiercely, and you slow your hips, grinding against him with deep, rolling movements that leave you both breathless, the friction between you a heady, delicious ache. His hands hold you with a greed that makes your skin tingle, his grip firm and possessive, as though he’s trying to savor every second, every feeling. 

He begins to thrust up into you, his movements sudden yet electrifying, each stroke catching you off guard in the most thrilling way. A gasp escapes your lips, raw and breathless.

“Ah, fuck,” you pant against his ear, your voice a broken whisper.

“Good?” he murmurs, his tone low, teasing.

“Mhm, yes,” you moan, your voice trembling as his hands pull you down, anchoring you to him, while his hips drive up to meet yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends a delicious shock through you, his cock filling you so deeply that you feel entirely claimed, entirely his.

“Let me flip you over,” he pants, and with a strength that feels effortless, he shifts you onto your back without ever leaving your body. Your legs wrap instinctively around him, locking him in place as he plunges deeper, each thrust building a rhythm that’s quick, relentless. Your hands fall back, palms open beside your head as he holds you there, his hips moving in an unyielding rhythm that sends you spiraling, your vision blurring with pleasure.

Above you, he’s sweating, his chest heaving as he breathes out, “Think you can come again?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, voice barely a breath, each word trembling with the anticipation building low in your belly.

“Let’s find out,” he replies, his voice thick with determination. He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak as he sucks, sending a fresh wave of heat through you. His thrusts remain deep, unyielding, each movement pressing against your most sensitive spot, and you feel yourself unraveling, piece by piece, as his scent surrounds you, grounding you in him.

He moves to the other nipple, and as his lips close around it, your hands find his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, pulling him closer, feeling the delicious pull of another climax gathering, stronger, more overwhelming.

“I think… I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp, every nerve alive with the approaching edge, feeling yourself build higher and higher, almost unbearably.

He hums against your breast, the vibration rippling through you, and when his teeth graze your sensitive skin, your body seizes, your pussy clenching around him—hard, locking him deep as your vision whites out in a blinding rush of sensation. The world blurs to nothing, a soft ringing filling your ears as your chest heaves. You dimly register his eyes on you, his gaze intense, enthralled, as you let go completely, surrendering to the pleasure.

The orgasm rolls through you in waves, endless, consuming, as he continues to thrust, drawing every last bit of sensation from you. It feels like it will never stop, his body perfectly attuned to yours, his movements relentless, and you’re left breathless, utterly taken by him, lost in the exquisite pull of his touch.

“Oh my—fuck,” he rasps, his voice catching as he stills, releasing himself into you with a shuddering breath. His chest heaves, spent and utterly captivated, and as he catches his breath, he murmurs, “Shit, I didn’t ask if I could come inside you.”

You tilt your head, feeling a tired, blissful warmth spread through you. “It’s okay,” you reply, your voice soft and slurred, still drifting in the hazy warmth of pleasure. Despite your exhaustion, your body continues to pulse around him, a lingering hold, like it’s reluctant to let him go.

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through both of you. “You’re still squeezing me,” he says, giving a few gentle, lingering thrusts to help you both ride out the aftershocks, savoring every last sensation.

“This… has never happened before,” you murmur, a soft giggle escaping as the warmth fades and your body begins to relax. Finally, the last traces of tension melt away, leaving you both drowsy and satisfied.

“I hope it was good for you,” he says, letting his weight rest against you, his chest pressed to yours as his breathing steadies.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “It was incredible,” you whisper, a tenderness in your voice that makes him chuckle softly. He nestles his face against your collarbone, eyes closed, sinking fully into the afterglow.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his voice a low, warm rumble against your skin. “It was incredible for me too.” For a moment, the two of you lie there, basking in the quiet peace between breaths, in the warmth of skin on skin. He shifts slightly, resting his head on your chest, and you feel his arms wrap tighter around you.

“I could lie here forever,” he breathes, his voice soft and content.

You giggle, brushing a thumb over his shoulder. “Sounds nice, but you’re just a little bit heavy,” you tease, your voice trailing off with a sleepy laugh. “But… Can I stay? I’m so tired, and I really don’t want to go outside in the cold snow.”

He draws you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips brushing over your skin. “I don’t want you to leave, either. Stay. Sleep. And in the morning… I’ll make sure to fuck you real good all over again.” He tilts your chin up, sealing his promise with a warm, lingering kiss that leaves you feeling lightheaded, even now.

“That,” you sigh, smiling as you close your eyes, “sounds perfect.”

Slowly, he slips out of you, and though you feel the absence, he’s back almost immediately with a warm cloth. His hands are gentle, his touch soft as he lifts your legs to clean you with careful attention, leaving a trail of warmth where he touches. You hum, your body responding to his tenderness, and he smiles, brushing a kiss to your knee as he finishes.

“Do you want to sleep in a shirt?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he watches you start to drift off.

You shake your head, smiling sleepily. “No, I’m too tired to move… just come and spoon me,” you murmur, your voice already fading as you feel yourself slipping into sleep.

“Naked?” he teases, eyebrows raised with a hint of mischief.

You smirk, stretching out your words, “Yeah… unless that makes you uncomfortable?”

“Not in the least,” he replies, flashing a cheeky grin before slipping into bed beside you. He slides in behind you, pulling the covers up over both of you as if sealing you in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. His body, warm and steady against yours, is like an anchor, and within moments, the world fades away, and you’re sound asleep, cradled in his embrace.

Morning comes gently, with the soft tickle of Hoseok’s breath grazing your neck, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as you begin to stir. You shift slightly, and he wakes, nuzzling close to you, his lips pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice rich and low.

You chuckle, turning your head slightly to face him. “Good morning… and Merry Christmas.”

He yawns, then his face lights up with a lazy, warm smile. “Merry Christmas,” he says, voice filled with a happiness that feels both new and deeply familiar, like something cherished but long forgotten. The two of you laugh softly, as if sharing a secret, wrapped in the fullness of each other.

You wonder if he’s ever spent Christmas with anyone since his family passed, but something tells you not to ask—not when everything feels so gentle and good. His hand drifts down your body, his fingers finding the curve of your hip, settling on you possessively, and giving you a playful squeeze.

“Can you turn around?” he whispers, a subtle seriousness beneath his tone. “I want to ask you something.”

You shift to face him, and it’s like the morning light itself is gazing back at you—he’s radiant, his smile warm and glowing, spilling over with something tender and unspoken. For a heartbeat, you’re breathless, marveling at how a man could look this luminous, this achingly beautiful, as though he’s sunlight made flesh.

“What do you want to ask me?” you murmur, your own voice soft, a smile tugging at your lips as you reach to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

He takes a slow, deep breath, his gaze twinkling with a mix of happiness and something bolder. “Would you… be my not fake girlfriend?” he asks, eyes dancing with playful mischief, though you can tell he’s holding his breath.

You can’t help but laugh, fingers threading through his hair. “So… you mean, a regular girlfriend?” you tease, tapping your chin and pretending to ponder it, though your heart already knows the answer.

He nods, grinning but waiting, his eyes fixed on yours, full of hope.

Without another word, you lean in, your lips finding his in a kiss that’s both deep and tender, lingering as if to say all the things words can’t quite hold. When you finally pull back, his eyes are wide, gaze soft as though he’s still catching his breath.

“Yes,” you whisper, a smile lighting up your face, “I want to be your not fake girlfriend.”

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

→ requested taglist: @nora12379 @back2bluesidex @joonsmagicshop @hobi-love @bangtan-tee-86 @itsmina29 @vintageroses10 @hoseoksluna @knjjjk @ktownshizzle @angellekookie @miksancheese

→ Author’s endnote: so… how are we feeling after riding this emotional rollercoaster of all the feels™? Are we okay? Did it wreck you just a little? Or were you like, “meh, this sucks”? Be honest—I can take it (I think) 😅 I may or may not have poured way too much of myself into Hobi, and then used OC as a therapy session to bandage my own emotional wounds 😂 Why do I do this? Every. Single. Time. But hey, at least we’re all healing together, right? 💜 Anyway, I really, really hope you enjoyed this one. Tell me all your thoughts, feelings, and maybe even your favorite moment—it means the world to me! 🫂

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[back2bluesidex]

J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

[thebangtancloud]

Bts reaction When he accidentally walks in when your in the middle of an online class?

He accidentally walks in when you're in the middle of an online class ~ BTS Reactions

A/n: Wow, I'm writing a BTS reactions after SOOOOOO long and omg, it really feels awesome! I just hope you love this as much as I do 🙃 Let me know what you think, my loves!

BTS Reactions Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Kim Namjoon:

"Babe, where are my glasses?"

Namjoon wandered aimlessly into the room with a book in his hand, his eyes scanning the desk and then the table near the bed.

"Are you..." he trailed off, looking at the laptop screen and slowly moving out of sight, "in class?"

"Mhm," you nodded, swallowing down the last of your sandwich before wiping the side of your mouth.

"The camera's not on, don't worry," you reached for your mug of coffee and pointed to his head.

"Your glasses are on your hea-"

"Babe," he slowly whispered, a dreadful finger reaching out to your laptop screen. "I think your camera's not off."

"What are you talking about?" you frowned, turning in your chair so that you were fully facing the screen. Just as you noticed your own reflection in the little box at the corner of the meeting room, you heard a very amused chuckle reach your ears.

"He might be right about that one, Ms. (Y/n)."

Your eyes widened in horror, turning the camera off and muting the system in a flash, your heart racing straight out of your chest.

Although muted, you could see the rest of the students covering their mouths as they chuckled at the scene.

Namjoon's lips pursed into a tight line, shaking his head at you as you looked back towards your empty plate where the crumbs of the sandwich that you had devoured in front of everyone now sat to taunt you.

"Oh my gosh," you whispered, looking back at Namjoon with a nervous look. "Did they just watch me eat my sandwich and scroll through Instagram?"

"You were scrolling through Instagram during class?" Namjoon gasped lowly. "With your camera on?"

"I didn't know it was on!"

"Ms. (Y/n)?"

Your head dipped in shame, wondering if you should unmute yourself and apologize, or pretend as though something happened to your systems and you couldn't be a part of the class.

"Was the sandwich good?"

Namjoon snorted at the voice of your professor, settling down on the bed and smiling brightly at your guilty expression.

"Answer him, babe."

You hesitantly reached out and unmuted yourself.

"I'm so sorry about that, Professor. I didn't know the camera was on."

"That's alright, as long as you promise that this would be the first and the last time that I see you eating and using your phone during an online class."

"Of course, I promise. I apologize once again," you murmured, shaking your head shamefully as you saw the other students laugh silently.

Once muted and a few minutes into your professor going back to the topic that he was explaining, you looked across at Namjoon who gazed at you with a hint of amusement lining his eyes.

"You wouldn't have noticed if I didn't come in here," he pointed out, reaching towards you to gently wipe away a few crumbs that were at the corner of your mouth.

A strange sound left your throat as you crawled onto the bed and buried your head into the pillow.

"That was so embarrassing!"

He laughed whole-heartedly, patting your back and falling onto the mattress beside you.

"It happens," he tried to comfort you with a soft voice. "I suppose you have learned your lesson, hmm?

"I am never -" you emphasized with a punch to the bed, "doing that again."

"Good," Namjoon patted your back fondly, laughing once more before slipping off of the bed.

"Now concentrate, or he might make you the victim of his next question."

Kim Seokjin:

The sound of the door clicking shut made you turn, placing your pen down as you caught sight of Jin walking into your room with a sheepish look and a spoon in his hand.

"Is your mic on?" he mouthed, wide eyes looking at your computer screen and then back at your face to gauge if he was in trouble for walking in.

You smiled softly, shaking your head and nodding so that he could walk closer to you. You reached out to turn the camera off just as Jin walked into the frame, a soft sigh leaving his chest as he settled on another chair beside you.

"Aigo," he groaned, stretching his back a little before holding this spoon out for you to taste.

"I burned my tongue with my coffee this morning and I can't taste whether there is enough salt in the gravy. Can you check it for me?"

"Okay," you giggled, watching in fascination as he blew onto the spoon to make sure that it was not too hot for you before feeding you the maroon liquid.

"Mmm!" your eyes widened at the delicious taste before they scrunched shut when you felt the stinging burn on the sides of your tongue.

"What is it? Too hot?"

"So spicy!" you inhaled air through your mouth, fanning at your tongue and reaching for your bottle.

"...you answer that for me, (Y/n)?"

You looked at the screen in surprise, wiping at your running nose before panicking and reading through the contents displayed in front of you.

"(Y/n)?"

"Jagiya," Jin urged you to unmute yourself by pointing to the button on the screen.

"No! I don't know what the question was!"

"If you're speaking, I can't hear you. Please unmute yourself," you heard the professor speak.

With frantic fingers, you typed into the chat box that your microphone wasn't working properly and that you were trying to get it fixed.

"Okay," you heard your professor say. "Can someone else answer that for me while (Y/n) gets that sorted?"

You huffed, leaning back in your seat and wiping at the sweat that had formed over the top of your lip.

"I knew it was a bad time to come in," Jin murmured guiltily, taking the bottle of water from your hand that you had still not opened and raising it to your lips for you to take a sip.

"I'll get the spice sorted, maybe add some cream. How much longer until your break?"

"About 25 minutes," you looked at the time on your phone. "I can't take this lecture any more, Jinnie."

"Which one is it?"

"Math," you whined, looking at the screen as your professor seemed to be solving at least the fiftieth sum of the day.

Jin laughed knowingly, patting your head and getting up to leave the room.

"You finish that up, I'll get lunch sorted for us."

Min Yoongi:

"That's interesting."

"Ah!" you shrieked in surprise, turning around abruptly only to come face to face with Yoongi.

"Dude!"

"Shhh," he pointed to your screen with a chuckle. "She's explaining that so well, even I found it interesting. No wonder you like Physics."

"You scared me, Yoongi!" you gripped onto your chest, glancing back to double-check if your microphone and camera were turned off. "What if they saw you?"

"I looked for that before I could even come up here, jagi. I was standing by your door for the past ten minutes."

"Really?"

He hummed, reaching across the back of the chair and hugging you, letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

"I missed you, baby."

"I missed you even more, Yoongles," you placed a soft kiss on his forearm that was holding you close to him. "How was work?"

"It was decent," he shrugged, letting out a little wince when he stretched his muscles. "Didn't really move a lot so my shoulders hurt."

"Awww," you cooed, pulling on his arm so that he could walk around the chair. You stood up and he quickly sat down on your chair, pulling you along with him so that you were seated on his lap.

"How's classes today?"

"Pretty good. Most of the morning lectures were canceled, this is the last one for today."

"Any pending work?"

"Nope," you smiled proudly, melting against him as he kissed the side of your head.

"I'm so proud of you," Yoongi murmured against the side of your head, watching as you reached out and lowered the volume of the lecture.

"This your favorite?"

"Mhm," you smiled at the screen, "Quantum mechanics."

"My little genius," Yoongi spoke against your skin with so much pride that you could feel it with every touch. "You're going to ace this degree."

"I know I am," you giggled, patting his knee and then turning to face him.

"Give me another half an hour? I'll join you once I'm done with this lecture."

"But I don't wanna leave youuuu," he shook his head cutely, snuggling closer into your embrace. "I've missed you a lot today."

"I have missed you even more, my love," you replied with a grin. "But this class is important. You know she doesn't give us these notes once the live lecture is done. We're supposed to pay attention during the class."

"Can't you take them from another friend?"

"I'm the friend that everyone takes the notes from," you chuckled, your heart leaping with joy when Yoongi laughed along with you at your words.

"That's funny," he stated, shaking his head before letting you sit back on the chair.

"I'll take a shower, you should be done by then."

"What's for dinner?" you wondered out loud.

"I'm too tired to cook."

"Want me to cook us something?"

His eyes widened. "Would you?"

"Why not?" you smiled up at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it softly.

"Let me get done with this class, and I'll cook us something nice."

"Is this where I say, 'I love you'?"

You nodded with a grin. "Yessir."

Throwing his head back with laughter at your cuteness, Yoongi squished your cheeks with his hand and placed a sweet kiss on your mouth.

"I love you, my little genius."

Jung Hoseok:

A confused sound left you when you raised your phone to see who had texted you.

"Why's she texting me?" you wondered out loud, unlocking your phone to read through the text.

"There's a half-naked man behin- oh my GOD HOBI!" your eyes widened in horror, reaching out and shutting your laptop so fast you were sure the screen must have cracked at the force.

A single breath left the man's lips, his leg held up in the air mid-step, a similar horrified expression mirroring yours. With nothing but a towel covering his lower body, Hoseok stayed as still as he could, feeling like he was caught red-handed doing something criminal.

But all he had done was walk towards the bathroom, as the water supply to the guest bathroom was cut off.

"Was the camera on?"

"Yes!"

"Did they see my face?"

"I don't know! My friend texted me that there was a half-naked man behind me!"

"I didn't know your camera would be on!" He yelled back defensively, covering his bare chest, feeling exposed even though your laptop was shut.

"Oh my goodness, Hobi," you groaned, "everyone will talk about this now!"

"I'm sure they didn't see my face, I was facing the other way."

"It's not about you," you covered your face with a sigh. "These girls from my class, ugh," you groaned, "you don't know how they are. They'll go on and on about how there was a half-naked man in my room. I'm never going to see the end of it."

"I think you can handle that much," he suddenly smirked, straightening his spine and then lowering his towel just a little bit. "Can't you, babygirl?"

"Oh my gosh," you gasped, turning around so that you were facing away from him. "Don't call me that."

"Don't call you what?" His smirk deepened. "Babygirl?"

"Hobi!"

"C'mon babygirl," he teased you, walking closer and letting his fingertips tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

"You were in the middle of your class. Don't let a half-naked man stop you from learning. You seem like the intelligent kind, am I not right?"

"Uhm," you breathed out nervously, still not used to his touch. "I guess."

"I know you're smart," Hoseok cooed, bending just a little and pulling your chin until you were looking at him. Your eyes stole a glance at his glistening chest before looking back up in panic.

"If they ask," Hoseok himself let his eyes trail over your form before letting a lazy smile take over his expression, "go tell them you're my lady now."

Letting out a shaky breath was all you could do when Hoseok left your side to walk into the bathroom, leaving you all bothered and in a mess, and definitely not in a position to be a part of the rest of your class.

You could come up with an explanation for that later...right?

Park Jimin:

"You could definitely work on the pronunciation a little bit, and as for the project, I am very, very impressed."

You smiled across at your trainer, watching intently as she went through a few more points that she had noted down for you.

"Your progress is looking very good at this point, and I'm sure we can work together towards this language test. So from our next class, we would only be talking in Japanese. Alright?"

"Sounds alright to me," you nodded, a nervous giggle bubbling past your lips. "And what about the-"

"Baby!"

You jumped in fear, turning to face the door that burst open, Jimin's arms raised in the air dramatically.

"Look what I got for you!"

"Uh..." you looked back at your trainer with an apologetic smile. "Give me a minute, please."

"Sure," she chuckled, watching as Jimin slowly realized that he had interrupted your language class. The man bowed respectfully, to which your trainer nodded and greeted him with a friendly smile.

"Oops," Jimin's bit his tongue, looking across at you sheepishly before walking closer and handing over a bag to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd be in class."

"It's okay," you reached for his hand and pulled him closer so that he could come into the frame.

"He's Jimin," you introduced him to your trainer in Japanese, watching how her eyes widened at the introduction. "He's my boyfriend. He helps me practice Japanese."

"Oh, I see," her eyebrows were raised in fascination, nodding, and responding back in Japanese as well.

"Nice to meet you, Jimin."

"Pleasure to finally meet you," Jimin bowed once again. "(Y/n) always speaks so highly of you."

"Oh," your trainer couldn't hide her surprise at that, looking back at you with a grin. "Is that so, (Y/n)?"

"Yes, definitely," you giggled shyly. "I always seem to learn a lot from you. You're a wonderful teacher."

"Well, it seems like I don't really do much. You seem to be coming back with even more knowledge than what I teach you in our classes. I now know who's the real teacher here," she pointed towards Jimin with a smile.

"Ah, no, not at all," Jimin laughed and waved his hand in disagreement. "I just help her practice."

A loud and joyous laugh came from the computer before she nodded once more.

"Anyway, since we're done for the day, I shall see you next Wednesday, (Y/n). Remember, we will converse in Japanese going forward, alright?"

"Yes," you smiled across at her, waving at her as she said goodbye.

"Damn," Jimin chuckled, shaking his head before settling down and pointing at the bag. "I got you some pastries."

"That was quite a dramatic entry," you stated, reaching into the bag to pull out the treats. "She seemed impressed with your Japanese."

"Baby, everyone is impressed by me," he flicked over some imaginary long hair off of his shoulder before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"That would be true."

"Nah," he shook his head, before taking one of the pastries that you offered to him. "Anyway, we should practice some more Japanese. Anime night?"

"What are we watching?"

"Jujutsu Kaisen? There's a few more episodes left from when we stopped last week."

Kim Taehyung:

The lecture was as interesting as history could get, which was only a little. Your professor seemed to be in his own little bubble, somehow fascinated by the heroic activities and dates that you could never understand how someone could find fun to learn, a bright expression on his face everytime he went onto the next slide and explain more about the subject that you were least interested in studying.

The best part about his subject was that he never asked questions. He took his alloted fourty five minutes to talk about what he spent the last 33 years learning, his poorly organised presentations only giving you and the rest of the students the opportunity to zone out - as long as your cameras were on. That was his only condition, to have every single student's camera on for the entirety of his class.

You usually took this time to simply look at everyone in your class. There were peeps who looked as bored as you were, a few appeared to be genuinely interested, while a bunch of them had their heads facing down, wanting to give the impression that they were taking notes, whereas everyone knew that they were either doom scrolling or texting one another.

With a huff, you leaned back into your chair and wondered how you were going to pass the remaining twenty minutes of this class. When you looked at your own video that was on the corner of your screen, you noticed two legs popping out horizontally from the side of your chair. Turning around in your chair, you noticed Taehyung lying down on your bed in a pair of shorts, his calves and feet clearly still visible to everyone in your class.

"I'm so tired," Taehyung groaned, his face stuffed into your pillow. You also noticed his bag which he dropped by the door, a tiny smile growing on your face when you realized that he came over to stay the night.

"My class is still going on," you murmured, moving your laptop and your chair so that the camera was only capturing your face and the window behind you. Just before you could turn to face Taehyung again, you noticed your friend smiling at the screen.

You were sure it was nothing that your professor said, so you picked up your phone to text her. Surprisingly, she beat you to it and before you could ask her why she was smiling, she sent you a picture that she took of her screen, where you were had a bored expression on your face, and right behind you, Taehyung was just entering your room, a fond smile on his face when he looked at you.

You covered your mouth to hide your grin, conscious of the fact that everyone could still see you. You briefly turned off your camera to hop towards the bed and show Taehyung the picture.

"Oh no," he giggled, taking your phone to zoom into the picture. "Shit."

"It's okay, I don't think many people noticed," you smiled at him, pulling his cheek before hugging his body close to you with a satisfied hum.

"I missed you my babyyyy," he cooed, squeezing you and moving around the bed with you locked in his arms. "Let's have a movie night, Jimin gave me a CD and told me we need to watch it together."

"You always want to watch what he recommends and not what I recommend," you pouted, moving back so that you could see his face better.

"We always watch what you recommend," he shot back, his eyebrows furrowing. "Don't you remember making all the boys sit in the lounge when you forced them to watch the movie you wanted to see?"

"I didn't force them!" you gasped defensively. "Namjoon said that movie was on his watch list for so long!"

"Hobi hyung and Jungkook fell asleep not even half an hour into the movie, babe. You know a movie is boring when Jungkook falls asleep."

"Are you saying my choices are boring?" your eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Not most of the time," Taehyung laughed and pulled your face into his chest. "I'm your choice too, so they're not always boring."

"You don't always get to have the last word," you muttered into his t-shirt, shaking your head at him although you were very satisfied with the distraction from your class.

"Babe," he suddenly spoke in a serious voice, "you think they recognised me?"

"Who?"

"The people in your class?" With you still in his arms, he picked up your phone which he had dropped, opening up the picture that your friend had sent him. Even when he zoomed into the picture, all he could see was a blurred face with a white smudge that was supposedly his teeth when he smiled across at the sight of you.

"Your hair could give it away," you pointed at the curly mess on his head, "but it won't be too much of a problem, they don't know yet."

"Are you planning on telling them?"

"Should I? I don't know," you shrugged in response.

A soft ding made you both look to your phone, a new message from your friend flashing across the screen pulling simultaneous groans from both of you.

Prof is asking for you!!

Jeon Jungkook

A menice. That's what Jungkook was whenever you had your classes. Especially when you were at his place.

This was mainly because it took up most of the afternoon, which was a time that he intended to spend with you whenever you were together. Or that all your time should be reserved for him and him only, if you remember the way he worded it.

His tactics ranged from waiting until you had to speak and doing the noisest things whenever you had your microphone turned on, and doing strange things behind you whenever your camera was on. He would walk past you repeatedly, his movements a clear distraction to the rest of the people who had their eyes on the screen. Last week, he threw a pillow at your head, and you were lucky enough to have been on mute or else the rest of your classmates and the lecturer would've heard you curse at Jungkook like it paid your bills.

This time, he promised to not do anything, mainly because he did not want you to give him the silent treatment for a few hours like you normally did whenever he played the fool with you. He promised to stay in the livng room until your class was over, and although you had your suspicions that he would not live up to his promise, he was pretty adamant and even showed you what he would do to pass his time when you were inside the room.

This presentation was important to you and your teammates. You had a small part, just two topics to discuss and present to the rest of your class and you were allowed to turn your camera off after you were done with that.

Breathing out all the anxiety, you finally unmuted yourself and began with the presentation, letting yourself relax just a little because it had been about fifteen minutes, and Jungkook had not done anything yet, which was a good sign.

But before you could get to the last slide, your eyes widened in horror when the door to your room flew open. Yet, it was not Jungkook this time. It was Bam. He had only recently learned how to open doors, which was now his favourite passtime.

Bam bounded into the room and oblivious to your computer or the fact that you were in the middle of an important presentation, he came up right next to you and barked loudly, jumping up so that his paws were resting on your lap, his tongue lapping at the side of your face. That's what he did when he wanted to show you something that he was proud of, which in this case was opening the door to your room.

Before you could think of what to do, in came Jungkook with an equally mortified expression, running towards you and literally picking Bam up in his arms like a baby and running back out of the room. It all happened within a matter of twenty seconds, yet, knowing that your screen was on the main focus and that everyone in your class witnessed what happened left you dumbfounded.

You somehow turned to face the camera with an awkward laugh, apologising for the distraction and getting right back to presenting as though that never happened. You managed to complete it, turning off your camera with shaky fingers before letting your head fall against your desk.

A soft click reached your ears which alerted you of Jungkook's entry into your room. You remained as you were, your head laying flat against the wood with your eyes closed.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice appearing very close to you. You opened your eyes to see that he was kneeling beside your chair, an extremely apologetic expression on his face. He looked almost scared, knowing that he promised to not contribute to any distractions during your presentation.

"I didn't know he would come in here. I'm so sorry."

You simply looked at his face for about a minute without saying anything.

"Babeee," he whined, his anxiety sky rocketing. "Say something. Did I ruin it for you? Are you going to be marked down for this?"

A humourless chuckle left your through, before you sat upright and shook your head. He grabbed your hand and pulled it to his lips, placing soft kisses to your palm and fingers.

"I'm sorry baby, I really had no intention of doing anything this time, I promise you."

"I know," you nodded, removing your hand from his grasp. You watched his face fall before his eyes lit up when you touched the side of his face gently. "It's okay. I won't be marked down for this. I handled it well."

"Are you sure?" he inquired worriedly.

"Mhm," you responded with a small smile. "It's normal to have these kinds of accidents when you have pets and you're attending classes from home, it's alright."

"Babe," he dropped his head onto your lap. "I feel so bad. I was genuinely wanting you to come out and see that I was writing my lyrics without disturbing you even once. I imagined that you would be proud of me."

"I am," you insisted, playing with his soft hair. "I know this wasn't your fault, my love. It's fine."

"Are you almost done with this class?"

You nodded back at him, gently touching the side of his face when you noticed that he still looked worried.

"I'll make you some good food, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"You don't need to," you smiled at his words. "You did nothing wrong."

"No, I want to."

"But-"

"Shhh. Let me make it up to you. Please."

Let me know what you think!! 🙃

[perfectlyoongi]

HOW THEY LOOK AT YOU ⠀⠀summary: there is a mystical glow in a lover's eyes, and when he looks at you, it is the creation of the universe that beautifies his gaze.

⪩ pairing: seokjin, hoseok, taehyung x gn!reader. ⪩ genre: headcanons, fluff. ⪩ word count: 800k total, ~250 each.

SEOKJIN 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if butterflies could talk.

in a certain way, you were the bearer of all the charm that existed in this world. Jin was sure that there was nothing in this world that didn’t have your magic.

all the flowers created colorful carpets to support any fall you might take. the various melodies sung by the wind and embellished by the birds were just the soundtrack to all your adventures. rivers were created with your tears, grains of sand sprouted from your laughter. forests and mountains, stars and clouds – all that was beautiful, all that was life, all that was, was you.

when he looked at you, Jin could see an entire captivating future eager to be lived. lived by you. lived with you. everything that will be came from you – all life and all creation, all beauty and all magic. by looking at you, Jin finally managed to understand all the stories that ended in that ‘happily ever after’. there was love in the world. there was happiness in the world. Jin believed that, because you existed.

when looking at you it was impossible not to see all the celestial particles that made up the cosmos and made it so fascinating. when looking at you it was impossible not to feel that intense heat that not even the sun itself could provide.

and that was why Jin looked at you as if nature could communicate with him: enchanted by all your beauty, dazzled by all your magic. he looked at you as if he had received all the answers from our universe. Jin admired you. Jin was devoted to you. Jin was completely fascinated by you and your entire existence.

you were the reason for this entire cosmos – you were Jin’s deity.

HOSEOK 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if the universe was silent.

silence. rest. peace.

finally, in your presence, the entire universe was submerged in a vast sea of ​​pure and total tranquility. it was in the silence of your love that Hoseok felt himself floating in this sea, believing he was being guided to the most pleasurable details of life.

finally, nothing.

After years of being violently attacked by the most macabre sounds of humans and the cruelest sounds in the world, Hoseok finally had a calm, an emptiness, a vast and pleasurable paradise of pure silence.

in your presence, nothing else existed but Hoseok. the entire universe ceased to exist in your company. there was no sound or force that could steal Hoseok’s attention from you. any and all perverse attempts by the cosmos to expel you from Hoseok’s life were just futile, vain, useless. there was nothing to worry about when destiny itself had you and Hoseok entwined in a timeless thread that could transcend any reality.

Hoseok looked at you as if you were the bearer of all the words in the world.

an extensive amount of love songs were heard by Hoseok every time you spoke to him. sweet love poems were recited in every caress, in every smile, in every look exchanged between you and Hoseok. Hoseok looked at you like the moon looks at the vast universe: silent, hopeful, dreamy of what could lie beyond; a believer in what he was experiencing, a devotee of what he was feeling – someone in love with you.

TAEHYUNG 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if he was a student of the renaissance.

just as it is certain that the sun will rise tomorrow, it is also certain that small fragments of you could be found in Taehyung. a new mannerism, a lost word, an infectious smile, a shared nightmare.

nothing of who you were was alone – not when Taehyung was with you.

nothing of what you were was neglected – not when Taehyung promised you, swore to you, whispered to you, that everything about you would be part of him. today. tomorrow. in the future that was uncertain – always and eternally.

Taehyung’s eyes were deeply adorned with pure dedication every time he looked at you. perhaps because of the newness of that feeling. perhaps because of the intensity of that emotion. or perhaps because you were, quite simply, the only object of his desires.

no one could deny the veracity of Taehyung’s feelings for you. every look exchanged with Taehyung was filled with the intense glow of all the constellations of love that beautified the cosmos. every smile you threw was held by Taehyung’s heart with tremendous delicacy, to keep them always, and forever, close to him. Taehyung looked at you like a student looks at a more complex book – curiosity arose in Taehyung every time you entered the room. his attention was willingly given to you and you alone. and his devotion, oh!, his devotion was something familiar, something so natural that it made Taehyung believe he was created just to love you.

♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[strawberryjimin13]

BTS REACTIONS: YOU HAVE A TOXIC BEST FRIEND

— Pairing: members x f!reader

— A/N: Hey guys! This is my first time uploading in forever. I already had a prologue of a series here I was planning on writing but got caught up in life (I’m still caught lol) but writing has always been my passion and this is my way of distressing. Although I can’t focus on writing the series right now, I thought I could start uploading little reactions or drabbles that have been sitting in my drafts unfinished for a long time! Any feedback or suggestions is appreciated :) although go easy on me I’m trying my best XD

— English is not my first language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes or typos!

୨♡୧ KIM SEOKJIN ୨♡୧

It was a calm and clear night. You had planned to meet up with your friends for a night out and were undeniably excited as you bounced around your apartment getting ready. It had been forever since you last hung out with the girls as everyone got caught up and busy with life. This whole thing was planned by your best friend so everyone could meet up and destress while enjoying some gossip.

Seokjin smiled to himself as he sat on the bed watching you apply the last of your makeup. He couldn't deny the fact that you looked incredible in your outfit. A simple black short, tight and long sleeved dress reaching you mid thigh paired with stockings and platform knee length boots.

It was a simple combination but Jin loved it. He got up from the bed and made his way towards you, standing in front of the dresser. He would usually take this time to annoy you by making dad jokes but he felt particularly worn out today from the harsh dance practice. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle with you but he understood how much you were looking forward to this meet up and said nothing, instead opting to hug you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.

"Have fun and be careful jagi" he whispered to you slowly. "You don't have to worry Jin, all the girls will be there. Why don't you put on one of my face masks and destress playing a game while I'm gone" You suggest as you run your hand through his hair.

Jin chuckled softly at your suggestion, his breath warm against your neck. "That actually sounds like a good plan," he murmured, reluctantly pulling away to look at you. His eyes were full of warmth and admiration. "You look stunning, by the way."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Thanks, Jin. I'll be back before you know it." After a final quick kiss, you grabbed your coat and headed out the door, excitement bubbling inside you. The night air was crisp, and the city lights twinkled as you made your way to the meeting spot. The bar was lively with chatter and laughter when you arrived. You spotted your friends at a corner table, waving enthusiastically. As you joined them, the evening quickly filled with animated conversations and catching up on each other's lives.

Midway through the evening, the topic shifted to hr es and interests. Your best friend, who had always teased you about your love for a particular TV series, couldn't resist making a comment. "Oh, and how's your little obsession going?" she said, a smirk on her face.

You felt a familiar twinge of embarrassment as the others laughed lightly. Before you could respond, Jin's words from an old discussion echoed in your mind that you shouldn’t feel ashamed of your interests. You took a deep breath and tried to stand your ground. "It's going great, actually. I even got Jin hooked on it. We've been binge-watching it together."

Your best friend seemed slightly taken aback but quickly recovered. "Well, I guess if Jin likes it, it can't be that bad," she said, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

The conversation continued, but the initial comment had left you feeling unsettled. Despite your efforts to stay engaged, the teasing from your best friend didn't stop, and soon, her laughter felt more like mocking that made even your other friends uncomfortable. The hurtful comments began to pile up, and you could feel your confidence waning.

Finally, it became too much. Making an excuse about not feeling well, you left the restaurant early. As soon as you were out of sight, tears began to stream down your face. The drive home felt endless, your mind racing with all the hurtful words that had been said.

When you reached your apartment, you were barely holding it together. You opened the door to find Jin lounging on the couch, a game controller in his hand. He looked up, immediately noticing the tears in your eyes. Concern washed over his face as he rushed to your side.

"Jagi, what happened?" he asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

You couldn't hold back any longer and broke down, sobbing into his chest.

"She just kept making fun of me, Jin. It hurt so much." He held you tightly knowing exactly who you were talking about and started comforting you. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve that. Your friend should support you instead of making you feel bad about things you love."

You clung to him, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow. "I thought it was just joking, but it really hurt." Jin pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Jokes shouldn't make you feel this way. You need to talk to her about how you feel, or maybe it's time to reconsider who you spend your time with."

You nodded, wiping your tears. "I know. I just didn't want to lose her. I've known her literally since we came out the womb"

"You won't lose true friends by standing up for yourself," Jin said softly. "And no matter what, I'm here for you." he smiles softly at you.

He led you to the couch, where you sat together in silence for a while. Jin's presence was soothing, and slowly, your sobs turned into sniffles. He handed you a tissue and stroked your hair gently.

"Do you want to talk about it more, or just relax for a bit?" he asked.

"Can we just relax?" you murmured, feeling drained.

"Of course," he said, grabbing a cozy blanket and wrapping it around both of you. He picked up the controller again and handed it to you. "How about we play a game to take your mind off things?"

You managed a small smile, grateful for his understanding. "That sounds perfect."

As you played together, the weight of the evening began to lift. Jin, in his usual playful manner, started making his signature dad jokes, which never failed to make you giggle.

"Why don't scientists trust atoms?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why?" you responded, already smiling.

"Because they make up everything!" he exclaimed, grinning widely.

The joke wasn't that funny but you couldn't help but laugh. Jin's antics continued, his exaggerated expressions and goofy behavior working wonders to distract you from the earlier events.

"Thank you, Jin," you said after a while, your voice full of gratitude.

"For what?" he asked, feigning innocence. "For being the incredibly handsome, hilarious, and charming person that I am?"

You laughed again, feeling the tension ease out of your body. "Yes, for all of that and for being here for me."

Jin wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, giving you light pecks on the lips. "Always, jagi. I'm here for you, no matter what."

As you cuddled together, you felt a renewed sense of strength. With Jin by your side, you knew you could face anything.

⊹

୨♡୧ MIN YOONGI ୨♡୧

The practice room, typically alive with the sound of music and the energy of rehearsals, felt unusually heavy today. The mirrors reflected your troubled expression, your movements sluggish as you tried to focus on your routine. The tension from a recent phone call with your best friend lingered in your mind, making it hard to concentrate. Frustrated, you finally gave up and sat on the floor, staring at your phone.

Yoongi, who had been practicing his own routine nearby, noticed your unease. He quietly walked over and sat beside you, offering silent support. After a moment, he gently asked, "What's wrong?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's my best friend again. She keeps forcing me into doing things I'm uncomfortable with. Today she wanted me to flirt with some random person, knowing full well that l'm in a relationship with you. When I told her I didn't feel comfortable, she just brushed it off and said I was being too sensitive and uptight."

Yoongi frowned, his usually calm demeanor now filled with concern. "That doesn't sound like a friend, Y/N. You shouldn't let her treat you this way."

You shrugged, feeling a mix of shame and confusion. "She's been like this for a long time. thought it was just her way of joking around, but now I feel like she wants to humiliate me." you mumble.

Yoongi shook his head slowly. "Y/n….Jokes aren’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. A real friend respects your boundaries and listens to your concerns." he says looking into your eyes.

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. "I know, but it's hard to confront her. She always makes me feel like I'm overreacting or being too sensitive. She even says I'm boring now that I'm with you, and I'm just imagining things when I tell her how I feel."

Yoongi placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his touch comforting. "Y/n friends don't gaslight you and they don't force you into situations you don't like." he says knowingly. Having been part of a large friend group. He knows what healthy friendships should look like.

His words resonated deeply with you, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. "I just don't know how to stand up to her." you replied, wiping the tears off of your face.

Yoongi sighed softly, his eyes full of empathy. "You need to be honest with her about how you feel. If she truly values your friendship, she'll understand and change her behavior. If not, then maybe it's time to reevaluate if that's the kind of friendship you want to be a part of."

You nodded slowly. "You're right, Yoon. I need to talk to her." you say as you wiped the snot from your nose.

Yoongi offered a small smile. "You're stronger than you think, Y/N. And you're not alone in this. You have a lot of people who care about you and who want to see you happy."

You managed to give a small smile. "Thanks, Yoon. You always know what to say." He chuckled softly and pulled you into a warm embrace. "I try. And I'm always here for you, no matter what. "How about we take a break and get some fresh air? Clear your mind a bit." he says looking down at your face.

You agreed, and the two of you stepped outside, the crisp air helping to lift some of the weight from your shoulders. As you walked together, Yoongi shared stories and made lighthearted jokes, his quiet humor easing the tension you felt.

By the time you returned to the practice room, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You knew the conversation with your friend wouldn't be easy, but with Yoongi's support and advice, you felt more confident in addressing the issue.

Later that evening, as you prepared to confront your friend, you replayed Yoongi's words in your mind. You took a deep breath and dialed her number, ready to stand up for yourself and your boundaries.

⊹

୨♡୧ JUNG HOSEOK ୨♡୧

It's late evening, and you're in your apartment, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm light over the room. Despite the comfort of your home, the tension from another exhausting interaction with your best friend weighs heavily on you. Your friend's constant need for attention and the guilt-tripping over spending time with others had left you feeling drained. You pace the room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, trying to process the conversation you'd just had.

Hoseok, who had been visiting and lounging comfortably on your couch, noticed your stressed demeanor. He sees the way you're moving restlessly and decides it's time for a heart-to-heart conversation. With a cheerful smile that lights up the room, he stands up and walks over to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, what's got you so worked up?" he asks, his voice radiating warmth and concern.

You look up at him, your frustration evident. "It's my best friend again. She's always demanding attention and making me feel guilty for spending time with anyone else. I try to explain that I need a balance, but she just makes me feel like I'm abandoning her.*

Hoseok's expression softens, and he gently guides you over to the couch, encouraging you to sit down beside him. "That sounds really tough, baby. It's never fun when someone makes you feel guilty for wanting to live your life and have other relationships."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and continued frustration. "I've tried to explain to her that it's not about her, but she just doesn't get it. She keeps saying l'm changing and that I don't have time for her anymore. It's like I'm constantly walking on eggshells."

Hoseok listens intently, his hand resting comfortingly on yours. "You shouldn't have to feel like that. Friends support you and understand that you need a balance. I mean me and the boys have always kept a healthy bond and if not we discuss our differences and find common grounds. It sounds like your friend might be struggling with her own insecurities and is projecting them onto you."

You sigh deeply, feeling the weight of Hoseok's words. "I know, but it's hard to set boundaries without feeling like I'm hurting her feelings. I don't want to lose her, but I also need to live my life and be fair to the people who care about me."

Hoseok's eyes light up with a burst of his signature sunshine personality. "Hey, you've got every right to take care of yourself, and you don't have to feel guilty about it! Sometimes people need a little nudge to understand what friendships look like. Let's make sure you're feeling good too. How about we turn this evening around and have some fun?"

You look at him, intrigued and curious about what he was thinking. "What do you have in mind?" Hoseok's face brightens as he gets an idea. "Let's have a mini celebration of our own! We can start with a fun dance-off to some of our favorite tracks and then watch a movie or two with all the best snacks!"

You can't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. "That sounds amazing, Hobi. Let's do it!"

As you set up for the evening, Hoseok's bright energy turns the room into a lively, happy space.

He puts on some of your favorite upbeat songs and shows off his best dance moves, making you laugh and forget your worries. The movie marathon that follows is filled with laughter, cozy blankets, and delicious snacks.

⊹

୨♡୧ KIM NAMJOON ୨♡୧

You're sitting in the cozy cafe, surrounded by your laptop, worksheets, and notebooks from university. The low hum of the city outside barely penetrates the quiet, creative atmosphere of the cafe. Despite the vibrant and inspiring environment, your downcast expression suggests that something is weighing heavily on you.

Your best friend, who had been chatting with you about your latest project, suddenly makes a comment that hits hard. "Honestly, Y/N, you're such a perfectionist. It's almost laughable how you stress over every little detail. Do you really think this assignment is going to make a difference? You act like it's some huge achievement. It's just schoolwork."

You try to keep your composure, but her words cut deep. "I know it might seem like a lot, but I really want to do well. This is important to me."

Your friend rolls her eyes, clearly dismissive. "Important? You're making a big deal out of nothing. It's pathetic how you put so much effort into these assignments. Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with getting everything perfect, you'd actually have a life outside of your textbooks."

The harshness in her voice makes you feel small and inadequate. You force a tight smile, a small part of you believing what she said. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

You focus on your work, but her toxic comments linger, gnawing at your confidence. Just as you're about to give up on your task, the door of the cafe swings open. Namjoon walks in, spotting you immediately. His warm, friendly demeanor brings a smile on your face. He makes his way over to your table, greeting you with a bright smile.

"Hey, babe! How's everything going?" Namjoon's presence is a welcome distraction, and his positive energy starts to lift your spirits.

Before you can respond, your friend interjects sharply. "Oh, Namjoon, you're just in time. We were just talking about how Y/N gets so worked up over her assignments. I'm honestly amazed at how she can make such a fuss over something as trivial as schoolwork. It's like she thinks she's doing something world-changing."

Namjoon's expression shifts from casual friendliness to a serious one. He notices the tension and hurt in your posture and eyes. "Really? I think it's important to recognize how much effort Y/N puts into her work. She tries her best in everything"

Your friend's face flushes with anger. "You don't get it, Namjoon. I'm just being realistic. Maybe you should stay out of it." She stands up abruptly, clearly offended by Namjoon's defense. "| don't need to listen to this. I'm done here." Without waiting for a response, she storms out of the cafe, leaving you and Namjoon behind stunned at her outburst.

Namjoon turns to you with wide eyes. "Are you okay, Y/N?" He reaches out, gently taking your hand. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. You don't deserve to be treated like that."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and lingering hurt. "Thank you for stepping in. Her comments really got to me."

Namjoon pulls you into a hug, his warmth enveloping you. "You're doing amazing, Y/N. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise. Your hard work is something to be proud of."

He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his affection bringing a sense of calm. "You deserve to be treated with kindness and not someone belittling you or your work. Don't let anyone's negativity get you down."

As you lean into him further, you feel the tension slowly melting away. Namjoon's presence is a soothing balm, his gentle touch and kind words helping to heal the sting of your friend's harshness. "Thank you for always supporting me Joonie."

Namjoon smiles down at you, his eyes full of love. "I'm always here for you, babe. You're strong and incredible, and I believe in you. No matter what happens, remember that you have someone who truly cares about you."

With Namjoon by your side, you felt your feelings validated. The negative comments fade into the background and the evening at the cafe becomes a reminder of the positive and caring presence Namjoon brings into your life, making you feel valued and loved.

When you leave the cafe, you're not only carrying the weight of your work but also the knowledge that you have someone who stands by you and supports you unconditionally.

⊹

୨♡୧ PARK JIMIN ୨♡୧

You arrive home from work, the exhaustion of the day heavy on your shoulders. The apartment is quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator. You drop your keys on the hallway table, noticing the faint aroma of the lavender candle Jimin likes to light. The warm, golden glow of the evening sun filters through the windows, casting a serene light over the living room.

As you step into the room, you see Jimin standing near the window, his back to you. His usually bright and cheerful demeanor is replaced with a tense, rigid posture. The sight sends a jolt of worry through you.

"Jimin? What's wrong?" you ask, your voice soft and concerned.

He turns to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "I heard something today," he says, his voice shaking. "Your best friend told me you've been seeing someone else behind my back. She said she didn't feel right hiding such information."

Your heart plummets, the weight of his words crashing over you. "What? That's not true! I would never do that to you, Jimin. You know that..." You trailed off. "You can even check my phone or anything if it means we can clear this misunderstanding." you add desperately. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, especially the fact that it came from your best friend? You felt sick to your stomach.

He runs a hand through his hair, his distress evident in his every movement. "Why would she say something like that if it wasn't true? She's your best friend. Why would she lie about something so serious? She said she wanted to warn me."

Tears well up in your eyes as you step closer to him. The room feels colder, the once comforting ambiance now a backdrop to your situation. "I don't know why she's doing this, but I swear to you, Jimin, I've been faithful and I will continue to remain faithful. I love you more than anything."

Jimin's anger starts to wane, replaced by a deep sadness. He looks around the room, his eyes lingering on the pictures of the two of you that decorate the walls. "Then why would she try to hurt us like this? I just- I knew deep down you wouldn't have done something like this. I trust you...I just felt hurt" he mumbles the last part.

You reach out, taking his hands in yours. "She's been causing problems for a while now, ever since I got this job. Gossiping, spreading lies... I think she enjoys creating drama because of the fact that the fact that she can't make fun of me anymore. But I promise you, my feelings for you are real. I would never betray you."

Tears start to fall down your cheeks as the emotional toll of the situation overwhelms you. Jimin pulls you into a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with yours. The soft fabric of his sweater presses against your cheek, a small comfort amidst the chaos. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I just...love you so much, and the thought of losing you terrified me."

You hold him tighter, your voice trembling. "I love you too, Jimin. You're the most important person in my life. I need to cut her out. She's toxic, and she's trying to ruin everything in my life."

Jimin nods, his grip on you tightening. "You're right. We don't need that kind of negativity. We'll deal with this together."

You both sit down on the couch, the plush cushions providing a small respite from the emotional storm. The soft glow from the candle flickers, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Jimin wipes away your tears with gentle fingers, his touch reassuring. "We'll get through this, okay? Our relationship is stronger than any lie she can tell."

The ticking of the clock in the background is a steady reminder that time moves forward, regardless of the pain. "Thank you for believing in me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He kisses your forehead softly, his lips lingering. "You're my everything, Y/N. We'll move forward from this, stronger than ever."

⊹

୨♡୧ KIM TAEHYUNG ୨♡୧

You're at a serene park, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the ground. The tranquil setting, with its lush greenery and the soft rustling of leaves, opposite of your internal turmoil caused by your best friend's constant rivalry.

You sit on a wooden bench near a small pond, watching the ducks glide effortlessly across the water. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions as you think about your upcoming wedding with Taehyung. The excitement and joy you should be feeling are overshadowed by your best friend's actions. She had planned her wedding for the same week as yours and hadn't even bothered to tell you, despite her recent engagement. When you confronted her, she called you hurtful things, saying Taehyung was with you out of pity and accusing you of always copying her.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but the words still sting. The rustling leaves and gentle breeze do little to soothe your aching heart. You're so lost in thought that you don't notice Taehyung approaching until he's right beside you.

Taehyung, who was walking Yeontan around the park returns and sits down next to you, his usual playful and lighthearted energy noticeably subdued. Yeontan, his fluffy dog, sniffs around your feet before settling down with a contented sigh. Taehyung looks at you with his soulful eyes, full of concern. "Hey, what's wrong? You look really upset."

You glance at him, trying to hold back your tears. "It's just... everything with the wedding. And my so-called best friend. She planned her wedding the same week as ours and didn't even tell me. When I confronted her, she said I don't deserve you and accused me of copying her even though we have been engaged for a while and our wedding plans have been happening for months."

Taehyung's expression shifts from concern to a mix of anger and irritation. He reaches out his arm and wraps them around your shoulder to bring you closer. "That's not right. You don't deserve to be treated like that, especially by someone who's supposed to be your friend."

You squeeze his hand that is on your shoulder, finding some comfort in his touch. "I just don't understand why she's doing this. It's like she's always trying to compete with me, to one-up me. And now, this? It feels like she's trying to ruin our special day."

Taehyung's eyes flash with a protective fire. "You deserve better than this, Y/N. Our wedding should be about us, about our love and commitment to each other. If she can't be happy for you, then maybe she doesn't deserve to be a part of your life."

You look out at the pond, the ducks still gliding peacefully. "It's just so hard. She was my best friend for so long. But now, I don't even recognize her."

Taehyung pulls you even closer that your head is resting on his chest. "People change, and not always for the better. But you have to focus on what's important."

You nod, leaning into his embrace, feeling his steady heartbeat against you. "You're right. I need to let go of her and focus on us and people who actually care about me."

Taehyung's voice softens, filled with his signature gentle care. "Exactly. We'll get through this together, just like we always do. And I'll be right by your side, no matter what."

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment in a gesture of reassurance and love. "And remember, you deserve all the happiness in the world. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

⊹

୨♡୧ JEON JUNGKOOK ୨♡୧

You're at a lively party celebrating your recent promotion, the room filled with upbeat music and the buzz of cheerful conversation. The glow of string lights and colorful decorations creates a festive atmosphere, with people mingling and enjoying themselves. Despite the celebration around you, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment.

Earlier in the week, you had received a major promotion at work, a milestone you were eager to share. You had organized this party to mark the occasion, hoping to celebrate with friends and loved ones. However, your best friend's response was underwhelming. She had offered a brief congratulation before quickly redirecting the spotlight to herself, as if your achievement was merely a backdrop for her own.

You're standing near the snack table, trying to enjoy the festivities while feeling overshadowed. The party's vibrant energy contrasts sharply with your inner frustration.

Just then, Jungkook arrives, his charm adding to the party's atmosphere. He spots you standing alone, looking unsettled, and makes his way over to you.

"There you are baby! it's your special day!" Jungkook says with a wide smile. Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms, spinning you around with playful enthusiasm. "Congratulations!"

As he sets you down, he leans in and places a series of soft, celebratory kisses on your cheeks, his eyes sparkling with joy. "I'm so proud of you. This promotion is amazing! I know how hard you worked for this. I'm so proud of you babe."

Your initial surprise and delight quickly fade as you catch sight of your best friend nearby, her forced smile and dismissive demeanor still fresh in your mind. You let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on you.

Jungkook notices the change in your mood, his expression shifting from playful excitement to concerned seriousness. "Hey, what's wrong? You don't seem as happy as you should be." You explain, "I'm glad about the promotion, but the way my best friend reacted? It feels awful. It's like my success doesn't matter unless it's about her."

Jungkook's smile fades. "Hey don't let that take over your mind. You should enjoy your celebration without feeling overshadowed regardless of how she acts. This is about you, pretty."

As if on cue, your best friend approaches, her smile now strained and forced. "Oh, Y/N, you're still here?" She says as if this party wasn't organized by you to celebrate your milestone. It made anger bubble up in you. "I was just thinking about how great it is that you got a promotion. It's nice, I guess, but let's talk about my new project. It's really making waves." She continues.

Before you have the time to reply, Jungkook sweeps in. "Actually, Y/N's promotion is a big deal because she worked very hard to achieve it. Maybe you could try being genuinely supportive instead of making it all about yourself."

Your best friend's smile falters and she scowls. "Are you seriously calling me out at your own party? I was just trying to be polite!" she says looking towards you as if she expected you to defend her behavior.

Jungkook remains firm, his tone unwavering. "Politeness isn't enough. If you're going to be here, you should show some real respect rather than always making everything about you."

The atmosphere of the party is now charged with tension, your best friend's frustration evident as she struggles to respond and instead she decides to storm out of there.

"Thank you for standing up for me," you say softly. "I really needed that."

Jungkook pulls you into a warm, reassuring hug. "You're worth celebrating, and I'm here to make sure you know that. Your success is important, and I'll always stand by you."

© strawberryjimin13 — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[borathae]

BTS Reaction to: Cuddles

Genre: Fluff

Gender: not specified

Wordcount: 1.4k

a/n: i thought about cuddles and wanted to write something <3 i miss them a lot you guys 😭💗

Namjoon

I see him either liking face to face cuddles or spooning. If you’re facing each other, he’d love it if you bury your face in his chest (sidenote: shirtless Namjoon happens a lot in this position. Make with this information what you want). If you’re spooning, he’d prefer to be your big spoon because he gets hot easily and like this, he can break away to cool off. He’d hold your hands and caress your waist with gentle kisses to your shoulder blades. 

If he is the small spoon, he’d start acting cute because he secretly likes it when you make him feel physically small. Actually, I changed my mind. I think he prefers being your small spoon because you get to hold him and caress him and he’d just melt in your arms. Not to be sad on main, but if he cries, this is the kind of position he cries in because you make him feel safe and vulnerable like this. 

He is the kind of person who either gives no random hugs throughout the day or lots of hugs. It all depends on how he feels that day and what kind of other people you are around. 

If you aren’t cuddling, but he still wants to be close, he’d trace your skin with his fingertips or rub your back.

Seokjin

He likes to be on his back, so I can see him liking positions where he can lie back and you are on top of him one way or another. Like you between his legs with your head on his chest. Or you cuddled into his side but with your head on his chest. Something where he can wrap his arms around you and feel you relax in his hold. 

Which is why I see him preferring to be your big spoon. He’ll hug you tightly and nuzzle into you. If he is the small spoon, he’d keep kissing your knuckles and telling you jokes so he can feel your laughter against his back.

Also he likes it when you’re on his lap with your face in his neck when he games. He’d keep sneaking his hand under your shirt and giving you innocent rubs or place kisses on your shoulder. 

If you're in private, he’d give you lots of hugs, but if you’re in public, he’d only hold your hand. He likes to keep the cuddles private because they’re very precious to him. 

If you aren’t cuddling and he wants physical connection, he is either shadow boxing with your arm or he is playfully moving your arms as if you were his puppet. He is definitely playful but cute.

Yoongi

Little spoon! Little spoon! Little spoon! He basically wants to live as your little spoon. The smaller he feels, the better. He’d really love it if you held his hand or rubbed his tummy. The warmth and softness of your body against his back is really comforting to him and he’d feel really safe like this. He also loves that you can easily give his neck kisses. 

Alternatively I can also really see him enjoying resting his head on your chest with his body between your legs. He’d like it because he could listen to your heartbeat and have you play with his hair. 

No matter the position though, I see him as the one getting snuggled and being the “tinier” counterpart.

The kind of guy that says that he needs his space before falling asleep, but then you catch him pressing his foot against your leg so he is still connected with you (if you call him out on it, he’d deny it and pull away).

I don’t see him giving you any hugs or cuddles in public because he is shy. He is definitely the type of person to do a whole 180 and turn into the biggest cuddlebug once he’s in the safety of your own home again. 

Hoseok 

I genuinely can’t think of an ultimate fave position because I see him liking all the positions. He’s a cuddlebug BUT he has to initiate it. Obviously he loves it when you cuddle up to him and he’d pull you closer (all I think about is the one Koobi hug in the Canada Run episodes. not shipping them! just how he would react if you initiated) but if he’s the one starting it, you’ll be buried in millions of hugs and kisses and cute sound effects. If it’s cuddles for sleep though, I can see him really liking it when you rest your head on his chest. He loves feeling your weight on him and your slow swirls of breath on his skin. It calms him down a lot.

If you roll away to fall asleep, he’d put his hand on your back (or waist depending on how you’re facing him) so you and he could still stay connected. 

He’s the kind of person to definitely give you little cuddles throughout the day, followed by kisses and an honest compliment. 

Jimin

He is another canditate for all positions are his favourite positions. He is for real such a cuddlebug. On the sofa he’d like it when one of you is on their back and the other is cuddled up to their side. In bed he prefers to spoon. When sitting, he’d love to sit on your lap as much as he loves it when you sit on his’. I think, however, that the one position which really makes his heart flutter is when you are facing each other, holding hands and with your foreheads together. This one really does it for him.

The type of person to hug you from the side throughout the day AND if you’re strong enough the kinda person to jump into your arms. He also likes to hook pinkies when you’re walking through a crowded room OR when you’re falling asleep together. 

There is no such thing as casual connection with him. If you aren’t cuddling and he wants physical touch, he’d simply cuddle up to you. 

Taehyung 

I don’t wanna keep it too short, but I feel like he’d cuddle the way he cuddles pillows or Yeontan. That’s it. No but seriously, he is a human koala and once he is cuddled to you, he is going to stick until either one of you has to leave, a limb has fallen asleep or the toilet is calling. I think any position where he can wrap his limbs around you is preferred. He’d also like to roll on top of you and giggle when you whine about his weight. I can generally see him being a little annoying sometimes like licking your face or biting your cheek, just because he likes it when you play-fight him back and you can laugh together. Also, this goes without saying, but if he can’t hold you as he falls asleep he will not find any sleep. 

Surprisingly enough I don’t see him giving you lots of random hugs throughout the day (unless you ask for them). He’s more into having one big cuddle time where he’ll pour all his affection into it.

Also listen. I feel like he unironically likes it when you hook toes when you aren’t cuddling but still craving some connection.

Jungkook 

Human weighted blanket. He’d love to bury you under him and wrap all his limbs around you. Like this, he feels as if he’s doing a good job at protecting you AND he can give your face a million kisses. It’s also the perfect position to make you laugh by tickling you according to your comfort levels or by nibbling on your neck innocently.

I can also see him loving it when your head rests on one of his arms. Like the big spoon position or him on his back with you cuddled into his side. If he’s your big spoon, he’d have you all wrapped up in his arms. If he’s on his back, he’d play with your hair as best as your hair texture allows it. 

He likes it when he can feel strong and needed and you are so obviously safe in his presence.

100% the type of person to back hug you constantly in private and put an arm around you when you’re around other people (in a “hihi we’re together <3” way not in a “they’re mine, back off” way). Holding hands is mandatory as well and I can see him initiating more cuddles than casual connection because he really likes cuddles.

His love language is definitely physical touch and quality time, so he sees cuddles as the ultimate bonding moment.

[yoonia]

Sunset Glow — teaser 2

— As you accidentally stumble upon a reminder of the past that you have been slowly walking away from, you finally get to see Hoseok losing his resolve for the first time. It is now your turn to become his rock, and help remind him the reason why he has always been yours.

— title: Sunset Glow | pairings: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) x female reader | genre: angst, smut, past lovers!au, lawyer!hoseok, artist!reader, new beginning!au

— teaser word count: 1,078 words | full fic word count: app. 20k words

— story note: published as a part of In Bloom Collaboration; this story is also the final instalment/bonus chapter of my short series, Spotless Minds. Inspired by the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds, this story is set after the events revealed in the previous stories from the series. You can read this fic as a standalone, but feel free to go back and read the previous parts for more context (optional) if you need one!

— content creators fic banner by @kithtaehyung | dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics & @saradika-graphics

— rating & warnings | +18 / M for mature; involves conversations about past relationship, mentions of mental health issues, memory loss, memory alteration—smut warnings under the cut!

full fic smut warnings | this story consists of multiple explicit mature scenes, including: stripping/nudity, groping, making out, clothed sex, fingering, breast play, nipple play, clit play, neck kissing, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, nudity, public sex, sex on a beach, marking, rough sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare.

[Note: this teaser isn’t taken from the opening scene, but this part provides more context to the story for readers who have yet to read the series or watch the original movie this story is based/set on]

Hoseok has been struggling. 

You can tell as much just by looking at him. 

Despite his constant reassurance, and even when he tries his damn best to hide it behind his smile, you can still see it—feel it—when you are with him. It’s not like he is really hard to read in the first place. He’s always been so open with you. Has always been so transparent when it comes to his emotions, his thoughts, and his desires. But when it comes to his insecurities—

For the past year, everything between you has been going so well. Both of you have been doing fine, regardless of the circumstances. You can feel that you are both growing stronger together, the bond that you have growing more solid as time continues to pass, and you manage to put the past long behind you.

At least, that is what you’d like to believe. 

Something must have happened. 

You have had this thought for a while now, ever since you noticed the changes happening in Hoseok’s moods. But you don’t have the heart to pry unless Hoseok chooses to share his troubles with you. You have been waiting for that moment to come for a while, yet he has yet to open up until now. 

With a sigh, you turn to look out the window. Ever since this beach house was built, you have always enjoyed standing here at the den, watching the picturesque view of the beach and the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. From up here, you can see everything. The white sand and the crystal water across the ocean look captivating, although you know that you wouldn’t be able to dive and swim or play with the waves as the season has yet to grow warm enough for it in early spring. 

You look down to the beach to see Hoseok, sitting with a towel beneath him, his eyes looking far away towards the ocean. It was an hour ago when Hoseok mentioned wanting to take a stroll down the beach while the weather is nice. You had initially wanted to join him, but the look you saw on his face made you realise that Hoseok might have needed some space. 

So you chose to stay behind at the beach house, taking your time to prepare dinner while you try to figure out how you are going to bring up the conversation. You can only hope that Hoseok can find some peace of mind while he is out there, enjoying the view of the ocean while basking in the early afternoon sunlight. 

Perhaps, later on, he would feel comfortable and relaxed enough to open up. 

Turning away from the window, you make your way back to the kitchen to check on the meal now cooking in the oven. But you come to a halt when something draws your attention. You turn to the television, which you had left on while you were cleaning and cooking to keep you company. 

Previously, the sounds coming from the TV had only become the perfect white noise, replacing the silence that you were left with after Hoseok stepped out of the house. Right now, the news is on, and what you see being shown on the screen is something that you cannot possibly ignore. 

“…no further development has been made in the court regarding the public lawsuit involving the medical research company, The Eden Initiative, and the people…” 

Slowly, you move closer to the TV so you can hear more clearly. Your heartbeat picks up little by little as you continue to listen to the news report. 

“The Ventura Project, the main product of The Eden Initiative, rose to fame four years ago with the promise of helping its patients to overcome their past trauma, incurable phobia, and from terrible losses and bad memories, by taking away the patient’s memories, using new technology developed by their experts in neurology and human genetics…” 

Your body sways, and you carefully move to take a seat on the sofa and continue to watch the rest of the news report with a shaky breath leaving your lips. 

“…the public lawsuit was first brought to light when the revelation about the misuse of private patient data was exposed to the public by an inside source, and more lawsuits followed as former patients began experiencing lingering side effects from the treatment, including recurring health problems, both mental and physical, issues with short term memory losses, and even former patients who are slowly gaining back erased memories…” 

Exhaling a deep sigh, you slump back into the sofa. The news continues with a different report, yet you can barely hear the words being said when your mind has begun to drift elsewhere. 

You should feel relieved that you had at least found out a little bit of what had happened in the past between you and Hoseok before those past memories began coming back to you. At least the shock wasn’t so great when you started seeing the visions that blurred the lines between dreams and reality. But there is always a part of you that wishes you could remain oblivious, to stay blissfully ignorant of what happened to you, of what is happening in the world around you, and all the consequences that came after what you’ve done. 

But it was fate that came to you to give you mercy. Just like how it did when fate made it possible for you and Hoseok to cross paths for the first time nearly a decade ago, it had given another chance to start over with Hoseok by aligning your paths once again years later—when both of you were finally ready to start over without all the hurt. 

Right at that moment, realisation dawns on you. Because you may have had the answers to your questions all along—that the reason why Hoseok has been troubled, why he has been so distant before this trip, and why he has found it hard to talk about his problems, has been you all along.

I caused it. 

I caused this.

It was you who first set everything into motion, to ignite the ripple effect of consequences when you first made the decision to run to that company years ago in search for a cure from your heartbreak, to find the chance to escape from the pain by allowing them to take away the one most precious thing you had—

Your memory. 

Note: If you’re interested to be tagged in the full fic and you are not listed in my permanent taglist, please leave your name/url in the replies down below! Remember to make sure that your url is public/can be tagged!

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Patreon Masterlist

Here's a link to my patreon if you enjoy my writing and wish to support me. Below is what you can expect after signing up to my patreon:

EXCLUSIVE:

Burning Love (02)- exclusive sneak peak

Summary: Jungkook was your first love, your high school sweetheart, whom you continued to date throughout college, well maybe not throughout college. Three months before finishing college, he decides it wasn’t worth it. Six years later, you’re far away from South Korea, working for a small company. What are the chances that the big multinational company that ends up buying the company you’re currently working for is owned by none other than Jeon Jungkook?

Fine Line (02) (exclusive)

Summary: You hate Jungkook. Jungkook hates you. It’s simple. Until it isn’t. Read part one here.

Deep Learning (JJK) (exclusive)

Summary: Getting tutored by the school nerd sounds boring. Well that is, until you, tease him.

Out of the Woods (JJK) (exclusive)

EARLY ACCESS

Hello, Love! (3.5)

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

All that Sparkles (KTH)- early access; to be available on patreon by the end of September

Summary: you are now married to Kim Taehyung; the ever charming, dashing, smart and rich CEO of Divine Diamonds. He's sweet and polite, unlike anything you'd ever expect from someone who was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Only problem; you don't feel a connection. Your marriage feels dull. However, the day you bring him home for a family dinner with your parents, things chnage.

[hamburgerndsprite]

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 12

Note: I’ll keep updating the lists as I discover more fics. Additionally, all the mood boards have been edited by me, so I kindly ask that you do not repost them as your own. Thank you!

[Masterlist]

[OT7]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Sunshine Riptide by jincherie

— pairing: ot7 x reader — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired — wc: 13.8k+ — summary: Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes. 

➺ Until The Last Star Falls by minniepetals

— pairing: underworld lords!bts x shield!reader — genre: fluff, angst / reincarnation!au / poly!au / gods!au — word count: 44.4k — summary: it was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

{SERIES}

➺ Eunoia by wishesunderthestars [ONGOING]

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x Director! reader Chapters: 26/31 Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void? eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

�� Stay Alive by staytinyville [ONGOING]

Pairings: BTS poly!ot7 x Reader Genre: Mystical Creatures AU, Fluff, Romance, Angst, Fantasy Warnings: Smut in future chapters, toxic work environment, abuse Parts: 45/50 Synopsis: When you started working at a pharmaceutical company, you didn’t realize where it was your life was heading. After getting a patient mix up, you meet seven men who would didn’t seem to want any other nurse that wasn’t you. When you start to know them, you notice things that made you question if they were really human. No matter what excuse they would give though, you would always go home with a heavy heart. The day the truth is revealed to you, things take a turn for the worst.

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Eight Years by jungkookstatts

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: MarriedCouple!AU, EstablishedRelationship!AU, a very soft Joon but also extremely powerful and dominant Joon. Wordcount: 2,493 Summary: Namjoon and you have been married for eight years. What makes it so great? Maybe the fact that your husband never stopped loving you with just as much passion as the first day he fell in love.

➺ Trivia Love by luxekook

⇥ pairing: kim namjoon x reader ⇥ genre: non-idol au with fluff and smut ⇥ word count: 5.4k ⇥ summary: in which the reader and namjoon become ridiculously attracted to each other over weekly late night trivia sessions

➺ The Bodyguard by rmnamjoons

➳ pairing: bodyguard!Namjoon x reader ➳ genre: bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating/fake marriage, road trip (kinda), very slight angst ➳ word count: 62.9k ➳ summary: You’re the daughter of the ambassador to a small, peaceful, barely-on-the-map country in Western Europe, working as a diplomat to help your mother with her endless meetings and politics. After a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, you and your protective bodyguard Namjoon are on the run across Europe, jumping from trains, stealing cars, and pretending to be a couple on your honeymoon to stay hidden. As the would-be kidnappers close in, Namjoon promises you that he’s going to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

➺ Six Annoying Cupids by redrose10

⇥ pairing: kim namjoon x reader ⇥ genre: non-idol au with fluff ⇥ prompt: "Dont look at them, look at me"

➺ y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed by jungshookz

➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n  ➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!!  ➺ wordcount; 7.2k ➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time.  ➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Final Sleigh by floralseokjin 

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre; workplace/office au, enemies/rivals to lovers, starts off as a holiday au but drabbles further develop the story, rom-com words; 23,363  summary; You took an (almost) immediate dislike to Seokjin during his first week at the office and six months later that distaste is not only still going strong, but also mutual. Working in sales, you view one another as competition, so what happens when you’re forced to organise the Christmas office party together? It’s a recipe for disaster, but one thing’s for sure, it doesn’t end the way you imagined it... (Spoiler alert: you don’t wind up murdering him.)  

➺ Fall in Hatred by jimlingss

➜ Pairing: Husband! Jin x Wife! Reader ➜ Words: 20k ➜ Genres: Fluff, Crack, Some Angst, Marriage!AU, Divorce!AU (kind of) ➜ Summary: You and Jin are over. When you’d rather stay with the spider that’s set up shop in the bathroom (and who’s become your new pet) than with your ‘husband’ in the living room, you know things aren’t good. But when your entire, overbearing family gathers at the summer house and you’re forced to drag him along, escaping from him isn’t so easy anymore. And maybe...just maybe...you’ll have a change of heart.

➺ Sit. Stay. by daechwitatamic

Pairing: Jin x Reader Genre: fluff, s2l, neighbors!au, baby angst for a quick minute?, smut Wc: 14k Summary: Your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure?

➺ Knocked by sailoryooons

☾ Pairing: Streamer!Seokjin x f. reader ☾ Word Count: 10,673 ☾ Genre: Roommates to lovers, smut, humor ☾ Summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

➺ Candyland by honeymoonjin

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: jin x reader ft. elf!jk ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: thriller, angst, fantasy ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: est. 13k   sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and your husband jin try to enjoy a nice holiday in the North Pole, but there’s something not quite right with the elves.

➺ Warm this winter by jamaisjoons

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: seokjin x reader ft. ex-boyfriend jungkook ❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ∝ fluff ∝ smut ∝ vacation au ∝ christmas au. ❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 51.6k ❥ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas. 〞

➺ Buy me Presents by muniimyg

pairing: ksj x reader(f)  genre: est. relationship, smut summary: in which you and your boyfriend, jin, do a gift exchange... you get him a new game console and he gifts you his credit card

➺ Heart on the Window by melancholy-of-nadia

pairing: ksj x reader(f)  genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au parts: 4/6 summary: You lost your job, got cheated on by your boyfriend, and had to give up your home—all in the span of a few weeks. Life hasn’t been kind lately, and just when it feels like you’ve hit rock bottom, your mom suggests an unexpected solution: move in with Seokjin, her friend’s son, who you vaguely remember as your annoying childhood rival. You haven’t talked to him in like 15 YEARS. But begrudgingly, you agree, hoping for this to be a temporary fix, only to find yourself in a more complicated situation when you discover Seokjin has some dirty little secrets. As you attempt to rebuild your life under his roof, tensions rise, boundaries blur, and you’re forced to confront not only your messy circumstances but also your growing fascination with the man you thought you once knew.

{SERIES}

➺ Amalthea by daechwitatamic

Pairing: Jin x Reader Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Parts: 4/4 Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Want A Taste? by suga-kookiemonster

pairing⇢ yoongi/reader word count⇢ 18.3k genre⇢ smut | humor | friends to lovers | shopping mall!au summary⇢ pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong. 

➺ Alive Aha Fxck by softyoongiionly

Pairing: Vampire! Yoongi x Human! Reader Genre: neighbor au, soulmate au, vampire au, supernatural, fluff, HUMOR, angst, smut Word Count: 42,653 Summary: An abandoned apartment in your building caught your attention the day you moved in. With a mind full of conspiracy theories, you’ve spent many hours contemplating what might be behind the door of Room 17. Your neighbor, Yoongi, doesn’t seem as eager as you are to solve the mystery but he agrees to help you break in anyway to get you to finally shut up about it. Also, he may or may not think you’re kinda cute. However, the two  of you get more than you bargain for when you discover something dangerous is living right next door; Little do you know that this something has quite a lot in common with your snarky neighbor… or… “Actually this is kind of cool, I’ve always wanted to star in a Twilight fanfic…” “I can’t believe you genuinely just compared this situation to Twilight.” “Yoongi- I hate to break it to you but, this literally happened in Twilight.”

➺ Calling...Producer Min Yoongi by bangtan-dreamland

Pairing: myg x reader Genre: fluff, strangers-to-lovers!au, mutual pining Word Count: 4569 Synopsis: Not only has Yoongi erased all traces of loneliness in your nights, even your days are now filled with warmth and love. Your phone is filled with music- yours, his, and your call log of his number only.

➺ Tricks of The Trade by stutterfly

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader Word Count: 24.1K Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU} Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

➺ A Man's World by trivia-yandere

pairing: Yoongi x Reader word count: 10,172 summary: you've been living in a man's world so long that you forgotten what it was like to just be a woman living in it.

➺ Cream & Suga by snackhobi

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader word count: 14.8k genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW) summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same. and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

➺ Kiss Me More by mosaic-opine

Pairing: CEO!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, fluff, smut, angst Word count: 7,285 Summary: You were 7 when you were arranged to marry the younger son of the Mins. However, when the said son returns home from overseas with a pregnant girlfriend, his older brother steps in and takes his place at the altar. There was only one problem, everyone was scared of him. Including you.  That is, until he walks in unannounced when you're playing with your toy. 

➺ Lily Luck by gguksgalaxy

›› Pairing: MYG x Reader, MxM pairings ›› Genre: Angst / Fluff / Soulmates Au ›› Word Count: 10.7k ›› Summary: “You get five chances to meet your soulmate. Five opportunities to look them in the eyes and be overwhelmed with the feeling of love. To find a little red line around your pinky finger. Yet, the feeling dwindles with each missed opportunity. Each missed opportunity comes with a scar where that red line should be. It’s a game of fate and luck, and the latter doesn’t seem to be on your side.”

➺ Strike a Chord by snackhobi

pairing: yoongi x reader word count: 15.8k genre: smut,fluff summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

{SERIES}

➺ Who Rescued Who? by redrose10

Pairing: Cat Cafe Owner Min Yoongi x female Reader Genre: mentions of depression, suicide, anxiety, lots of angst Parts: 2/2 Summary: With only a few dollars left to your name you weren’t sure how you were going to survive. Thankfully, Suga’s Cat Cafe came to the rescue offering you a job when you needed it most. Not only did it pay decently it also came with perks like unlimited free coffee and a cute, but grumpy cafe owner named Yoongi. At first you believed it was him that saved you at your worst, but as time went on you started to wonder…who rescued who?

➺ Love and Lullabies by ktownshizzle

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie Parts: 5/5 Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.) Alternatively, It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Moon Magic by Jincherie

✩ — pairing: hoseok x reader ✩ — genre: mermaid au, pirate au, magic au, fluff ✩ — words: 33.8k+ ✩ — summary: You've never paid much mind to the moon, but you quickly learn that even though you've never really thought of the her, she has always watched over you. What better to heal an grieving heart, than the luminous, rippling magic of the moon? And maybe a merman, or two. You know, for good measure.

{SERIES}

➺ Off-Labels by Jungkoode

→ PAIRING: Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader → GENRE: Brother’s Best Friend AU ✿ medical school au ✿ brother’s best friend trope ✿ gentle!dom hoseok acting innocent ✿ plausible deniability king hoseok ✿ competency kink → PARTS: 11/11 → SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Nefarious [M] by yoonia

⟶ Pairings | Jimin x female reader (with POV changes) ⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Club host/escort! Jimin, Smut ⟶ Word count | 39,246 words ⟶ Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life.  Accepting his offer might cause inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no?

➺ In Flagrante Delicto by hissunshiine

⟢ pairing: lawyer!jimin x lawyer!reader ⟢ genre(s): nsfw. 18+. angst, smut, fluff.  ⟢ au(s): law firm au. coworkers to lovers. ⟢ word count: 12,485 ⟢ summary: In flagrante delicto (adverb)  fla·​gran·​te de·​lic·​to | \ flə-ˌgrän-tē-di-ˈlik-(ˌ)tō — Latin for “in blazing offense.” Used in the courtroom to refer to someone who is caught while committing a crime, it’s commonly used as a euphemism for walking in on people having sex. Working for Kim Law LLC, you didn’t think your first big case would come with both definitions of flagrante delicto. Excited as you are for this chance, the catch is that you’re paired with Park Jimin, office hottie, flirt, and fuckboy. When the case takes a dangerous turn, will you be able to count on your partner in good faith? Or will things end in a hung jury?

➺ Caught Redhanded by withjaejae

Parings: jimin x reader Genre: pwp, roommates to lovers, oneshot Summary: In which your hot af crush/roommate catches you with your hand in the cookie jar.

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONESHOT}

➺ As Thunder Rolls by jungkookstatts

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU Wordcount: 8,296 Summary: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

➺ The Dark Room by yoonia

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader (with POV changes) ⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Smut ⟶ Word count | 19.1k words ⟶ Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life. Indulge in your deepest and darkest desire with all the wonderful treats that we could offer.

➺ Unveiled by borathae

Pairing: Prince!Taehyung x Princess!Reader Genre: Royalty!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, Wedding Night!AU, Smut, Romance, Fluff, soft Angst Wordcount: 12.4k Summary: “In a world where women ruled the countries and princes were married off to powerful princesses, there lived a beautiful prince. Taehyung, son of the Queen of the Snow Isles and with a heart too curious for his own good. As tradition demands, come his second decade on this earth he had to leave his home and marry a princess of a far away country.  Now waiting on his marriage bed, wearing nothing but a golden veil and a silken dress, he can’t help but feel nervous. Will his first night with his wife be as horrible as his fellow princes told him it would be?”

➺ Sweetened Kiss by borathae

Pairing: Good Boy!Tae + Soft Dom!Reader Genre: married life!AU, Royalty!AU, Fantasy!AU, Smut Wordcount: 4.4k [ Unveiled Drabble ] Synopsis: Princess introduces Prince Tae to chocolate for the first time.

{SERIES}

➺ Complete Faith by daechwitatamic

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader Genre: coworkers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again, angst Wordcount: 50k Summary: It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ University Superstar by jungkookstatts

Pairing: LacrossePlayer! JK x TeacherIntern! Y/N Genre: Jock!Jk, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU Wordcount: 10,291 + sequel and drabbles Summary: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…

➺ When She Loved Me by jungkookstatts

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Terminally Ill Reader, Non Idol AU, CEO Jungkook AU, Engaged AU, Married AU Wordcount: 11,265 Summary: How does one live when life is bound to end? 

➺ Habits of Clandestine Nature by alphabetboyluvr

pairing: collegejk x female oc genre: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, angst, smut wordcount: 16k synopsis: "Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player. But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another."

➺ The Boy is Mine by dreamersparacosm

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall.. Prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.

{SERIES}

➺ Strings Attached by Jungkoode

→ PAIRING: Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader → GENRE: spiderman au ✿ college setting ✿ sexual tension ✿ virgin!jungkook ✿ 12k of pure self-indulgence → PARTS: 2/2 → SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

➺ Neighbor Blunder by awrkive [ONGOING]

Pairing: software engineer! jk x accountant! oc Genre: fluff, smut, angst, neighbors!au, coworkers!au, cto!jk, chaebol!jk vibes, strangers to...? Parts: 4/? Summary: in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

➺ Sutures and Scars by someonegoood

Pairing: surgeon!jungkook x surgeon!reader Genre: medical!au, surgeon!jungkook x surgeon!reader, slow burn, teasing, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, fighting turned bonding, past and present love, fluff & angst :) Parts: 4/4 Summary: in which a viral video of you standing up to your superior forces you to transfer to one of the most prestigious hospitals—only to find yourself working alongside Jungkook, the cold and brilliant trauma surgeon you once knew all too well. You're forced to navigate life-or-death situations together, blurring the lines between past resentment and something far more dangerous.

➺ The Corporate Equation by someonegoood

Pairing: ceo! jk x head of HR! reader Genre: corporate!au, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding :) Parts: 6/6 Summary: in which you’ve always been the bright, optimistic Head of HR trying to make the workplace a better place, and Jungkook, the grumpy new CEO, makes it painfully clear he has no time for your idealistic notions—until a company crisis forces you both to confront the undeniable tension between you.

➺ MILF by smoljimjim

>Pairing: collegefuckboyJK x milfOC named Siri >Genre: heavy angst, fluff, smut, happy ending >Parts: 33/33 >Description: Find a MILF, sleep with her and be done with it. It was meant to be a simple frat boy challenge. One of many challenges. But what Jungkook didn’t expect was falling for this particular target.