#j hope bts

[minsyoongi]

hobi ♡ iamurhope: Paris Started ~ Paris Ended ~

[stlllle]

Now that BTS is back, I really hope new fanfics start coming out... I can't take reading the same old stuff over and over again, it’s slowly killing me inside

[aceorei]

ㅤㅤ⋆ ʕ -᷅ ༝-᷄ʔ ⁺ ∿ dynamite . . ✿

[cigarettesuga]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀shut up & kiss me Ꮺ bangtan

summary in which they kiss you to shut you up mid-argument⠀/⠀angst, established relationship, heated tension, emotional intimacy, nsfw-leaning suggestion

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀masterlist⠀ | ⠀taglist⠀ | ⠀more to read

⠀◖ ⠀◟⠀namjoon⠀◝⠀៹⠀ it’s the third time she cuts him off and he can feel it — that hot, helpless frustration crawling up his spine. they’re not yelling, not yet, but their words are sharp, fast, not really listening. “you’re not even hearing me—” she says, voice trembling, and that’s what does it. because she’s hurt. and he hates that he’s the reason. “i am hearing you,” he snaps, stepping closer. “you just won’t let me say it.” her lips part like she’s going to argue again, eyes flashing— and then his hands are on her face, sudden and certain, and he kisses her hard. not to win. not to dismiss. but to pause it. everything. it’s messy, desperate, his mouth moving over hers like he’s trying to say everything words failed to. when they break apart, breathless, he rests his forehead against hers. “i’m trying,” he says softly. and this time, she hears him.

⠀◖⠀ ◟⠀seokjin⠀◝⠀៹⠀ he doesn’t like fighting. hates how his voice sounds when it’s raised, how her eyes go glassy when she’s frustrated. but they’re in it now — pacing the kitchen, cutlery still clinking in the sink, tension so thick it’s suffocating. “why don’t you ever just say what you mean?” she bites out. “why do you make me guess all the time?” he opens his mouth to respond but she keeps going, a stream of hurt and confusion and truth, and suddenly he can’t take it. he steps forward, grabs her waist, and crashes their mouths together mid-sentence. it’s not gentle. it’s not sweet. it’s raw, almost angry with how badly he wants to calm her down and pull her close and take it all back. her fists bunch in his shirt. she kisses back like she’s furious too. when they break apart, breathing hard, he whispers, “i’m not good at saying things. but i’m good at this.” she nods. he kisses her again.

⠀◖⠀ ◟⠀yoongi⠀◝⠀៹⠀ she’s talking too fast and too sharp, and he’s clenching his jaw, trying not to say something he’ll regret. “yoongi, you’re shutting down again—this is exactly what i meant,” she says, hands flying, eyes wide. he turns his head, jaw tight. he hates when she’s right. hates how it makes him feel cornered. “because i don’t know what to say,” he snaps. “and you’re not giving me time to fucking breathe.” her mouth opens, mid-retort, but he steps forward so fast they both freeze. then his hand is in her hair, and he kisses her like a man trying to dig his way out. it’s rough. clumsy. full of teeth. her breath catches, her hands grabbing his arms like she doesn’t know whether to shove him or keep him close. when they part, eyes dazed and lips swollen, he whispers, “i’m not good with words. but don’t ever think i don’t feel everything.” and this time, she believes him.

⠀◖ ⠀◟⠀hoseok⠀◝⠀៹⠀ it starts with a misunderstanding. something small, stupid. a missed text. a joke taken the wrong way. now her voice is rising, sharp with hurt, and hoseok feels his heart breaking in real time. “do you even care how that made me feel?” she says, arms crossed tight over her chest. “of course i do,” he says, louder than he means to. “why the fuck do you think i’m standing here?” the air crackles. her lips part to throw something else at him— but he’s done. he surges forward, hands cupping her cheeks, and kisses her like she’s air and he’s been choking. it’s messy. it’s wild. it shuts her up completely. when they break apart, her mascara’s smudged and his hands are still trembling. “i hate when we fight,” he breathes. “but i’d rather fight with you than be quiet with anyone else.” she exhales, finally, and kisses him back like a truce.

⠀◖⠀ ◟⠀jimin⠀◝⠀៹⠀ he’s standing across the room, arms crossed, jaw tight, and she’s pacing — throwing words like sparks. “you always do this,” she says. “you act like everything’s fine until it’s not and then you implode.” he doesn’t answer. just watches her. every word hurts more than he’ll admit. “say something,” she pleads. “anything.” and he does — but it’s not a word. it’s a step forward, a hand behind her neck, and his mouth on hers in a kiss that knocks the wind out of her. it’s not sweet. it’s not careful. it’s needy. like if he doesn’t kiss her right now, he’ll lose something vital. she melts into him before she can stop herself. fists curled in his hoodie. when they pull apart, her voice cracks. “that’s not fair.” “i know,” he says. “but i love you too much to fight with you. i’d rather fight for you.”

⠀◖⠀ ◟⠀taehyung⠀◝⠀៹ ⠀ he’s leaning against the wall, eyes dark, letting her yell because he thinks she needs to. he stays quiet too long — too taehyung about it — and when she notices, she explodes. “you just gonna stand there?” she snaps. “say something, tae. be here with me.” he blinks, slow. then he pushes off the wall, strides over, and kisses her. hard. fast. like gravity gave up. she gasps into it, body stiff for half a second, then melts. he cups her face with both hands, breathing her in like it’s the only language he knows. when he finally pulls back, he says, “i don’t fight fair. but i love hard.” and then kisses her again, softer. longer. like he’s choosing her even in the middle of the storm.

⠀◖⠀ ◟⠀jungkook⠀◝⠀៹⠀he’s pacing. hands on his hips. flushed and furious and so confused. “you act like i don’t care—how could you think that?” he shouts. she flinches. that’s what does him in. he crosses the room in two strides, eyes still burning, and cups her face in his hands. “don’t say i don’t care,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “i show up every damn time.” she opens her mouth to argue— and he kisses her. hard. like a collision. like a line being drawn. her hands grab his hoodie, eyes wide, chest heaving. they break apart for a second, and she whispers, “that’s not how you solve things.” “i know,” he says, forehead pressed to hers. “but it’s how i remind you i’m still here. and always will be.” he kisses her again, slower this time. more true. the argument fizzles out like smoke.

quietly always, cigarettesuga.

taglist Ꮺ @aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @h6rtf9lt @wynterlove

[ihopeimnotlate]

Yeah what do you mean it’s been SIX years since I went to the BTS speak yourself tour??

[tranquilreign]

intimate tattoos | scenario | 18+

- © tranquilreign - all rights reserved | DO NOT STEAL, TAKE, or COPY any of MY WORK without MY PERMISSION.

pairing: namjoon/reader, seokjin/reader, yoongi/reader, hoseok/reader, jimin/reader, taehyung/reader, jungkook/reader genre: fluff, established relationship au! warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, body worship, nudity, public sexual themes, the boys are horny af for you :) word count: 2.7k synopsis: the boys reaction to you having a tattoo in an intimate area.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

namjoon

You opened the door to your apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. The chances of Namjoon being asleep were high, and you didn't want to risk waking him up. Especially after you had just gotten a tattoo.

To your surprise, when you turned the corner of the hallway, you found Namjoon sitting in the living room, glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose, reading a book.

"Baby," you squeaked. "I didn't think you'd be awake."

You glanced at the clock. 3:00 am. You had told Namjoon you'd be home by 1:00 am at the latest, instead, you were two hours late.

You were on your way home when your friend, in a drunken state, suggested getting a tattoo. To prevent her from making a potentially regrettable decision, you, being the more sober one, decided to get the tattoo yourself. However, your friend made it a condition that she would choose the location for the tattoo.

"You're home late," he responded blankly. He didn't bother to look up from his book, flipping the page over instead and continuing from the next page.

“Yeah, I know, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t text,” you apologised, taking off your shoes and carefully sitting down on the armchair next to him. “I just lost track of time.”

Namjoon only hummed, eyeing you from the side. He watched as you shifted uncomfortably in the seat. Flinching slightly if you moved too much. He pulled off his glasses and closed his book.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"W-what? No. No, I'm fine," you replied quickly, squirming in your seat.

"Y/n," Namjoon warned in a low tone.

"Fine," you whined. "I got a tattoo."

"You what?" Namjoon asked, as if he hadn't heard you.

"Yeah..." you trailed off.

"Well, let me see then."

"Huh?!" you asked. Namjoon laughed.

"I'm bound to see it at some point, so you may as well show me now."

Namjoon had a point. But where your friend had decided to have you tattooed was rather... questionable. You looked at Namjoon uneasily for a moment. His smile faltered.

"Oh fuck is it bad?"

"Well, the tattoo itself isn't bad," you muttered. "But the placement..."

You stood up, pulling your skirt and your underwear down. Namjoon's eyes widened. Right in the middle of your pubic bone sat a rose tattoo, with the stem leading towards your womanhood. You stared at Namjoon, waiting for him to say something.

"It's, uh... It's something."

"You're mad, aren't you?" you asked.

"No, baby," Namjoon replied immediately. "It's a beautiful tattoo. But, as you said, the placement is indeed questionable."

You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You sat back down, making a grab for your skirt when Namjoon stopped you.

"Actually, I find it quite sexy," Namjoon grinned, his eyes never leaving your tattoo. You giggled.

"Too bad for you, Joonie, we can't have sex until it heals."

Namjoon pouted, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

seokjin

You and Seokjin had been dating for a few months. He had explained that with his hours, there may be times you couldn't see one another, which you were more than happy with.

Having that time away from one another meant you could come up with more surprises for him, and tonight was one of those occasions. You had used Seokjin's key to get into his apartment, deciding you wanted to surprise him with dinner when he got home.

You had prepared a simple noodle dish, unsure whether or not he would want to eat when he returned. To your surprise he had returned just as you were washing the dishes. He put his hands over your eyes and hummed softly in your ear.

"Hello to you, too," you laughed, pulling his hands away from your eyes.

"Smells good," Seokjin grinned as he moved his hands to your shoulders. "Can I have dessert early?"

You giggled as he gently pulled your t-shirt over your shoulder, planting small kisses against your skin as he did so. You let your head fall back onto his shoulders, falling into his pleasure.

His antics suddenly stopped, however, making you whine. You turned your head to look at him, surprised to see he was frowning.

"Is something wrong?" you asked.

"You have a tattoo."

Your eyes followed where his gaze sat, now looking at the tattoo embedded into your skin. It spiralled around your collarbone delicately, a beautiful display of ink.

"Do you not like it?" you asked worriedly, moving away from him.

You pulled your t-shirt back up to cover yourself, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you were unsure of what to do. It was only when Seokjin spun you around, you looked at him.

"I love it, baby. I just wasn't expecting it," he admitted. "I actually find it rather hot."

Your smile appeared once again as Seokjin lifted you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He had begun to carry you to the bedroom when you stopped him.

"What about your dinner?" you pouted.

Seokjin looked between you and the table, contemplating what to do. He sighed in defeat, putting you back down.

"Fine. But as soon as I'm finished, I'm taking you straight back to the bedroom."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

yoongi

Yoongi had suggested going on a date. With him being so busy with work, he wanted to treat you to something nice to make up for his absence.

You both walked, hand in hand down the busy streets of Seoul. You had chosen to wear a black skirt that fell down to your mid thigh, and a simple white top.

It was supposed to be a cute, innocent date. But that had all changed when you had knelt down to tie your shoelaces. Yoongi stood in front of you, holding his jacket to make sure no one would be trying to peek underneath.

What he hadn't expected to see was the fact that you had a rather large tattoo placed on the inside of your thigh. Something that surprised him very much. And clearly turned him on.

At the first given opportunity, he pulled you into a quiet alleyway and pinned you against the wall, catching you off guard.

"Yoongi, what are-"

"How long did you plan on hiding it from me?" he asked, his voice laced with seduction.

You were confused. What had you done so suddenly to get him so worked up? When you hadn't responded, he grunted, dropping to his knees. You watched, stunned, when he pulled your left leg over his shoulder.

His slender fingers traced up your inner thigh until his hand completely covered your tattoo.

"This," he breathed, pushing your skirt up with his other hand to reveal your ink.

You giggled, relaxing.

"You like it, baby?" you asked cheekily.

Yoongi nodded as he peppered kisses from your knee up to your tattoo. He had attempted to go further, but you unhooked your leg from his shoulder and gently pushed him back. With him leaning back, and your shoe now on his chest, he could clearly see up your skirt, groaning when he saw you with no underwear on.

"How about we go home? Then I can show you the tattoo fully, and a whole lot more," you spoke flirtatiously.

Yoongi moved quickly, wasting no time to grab you by the hand and quite literally dragging you back to the house.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

hoseok

It was hot in the dance studio. Both of you were sweating from the intense choreography you were doing. You had both ended the filming on the floor, chests heaving from exhaustion.

"Fuck," you said in between breaths.

"You can say that again."

"Fuck."

You both looked at each other, then laughed. You were the first to move from the floor and stand up. Hoseok lifted his head, watching you as you moved.

You pulled yourself off to the side, untying the flannel from around your waist and discarding it. Hoseok's eyes widened when he noticed a tattoo on your lower back while you tugged your cargo's up.

Bending down, you grabbed two water bottles. You turned around to walk over to him, but stopped halfway. Eyeing him suspiciously, you moved your hands to your hips. His expression stayed the same, his eyes on your groin.

"Can you stop staring there?" you scolded, rolling a water bottle at him.

It rolled past him, making you huff. You mumbled under your breath, moving to go get it for him. A squeal left your lips when Hoseok suddenly pinned you to the ground on your stomach.

"Hoseok what the fuck?!" you asked angrily.

He didn't respond, instead pulling the hem of your cargo trousers down, making you panic. You squirmed until he put his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

"Don't move." His tone was low.

You laid there in defeat, allowing him to bring your trousers further down until, they stopped right above your butt. His fingers traced the ink slowly, outlining it. Everything suddenly clicked for you. Hoseok didn't know you had a tattoo.

"You know," you managed to get out. "You could have just asked to see my tattoo."

Hoseok finally looked up at your face, a grin evident. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused. He leaned down, lips gracing your ear. A shiver ran down your spine as he spoke.

"Now, where's the fun in that? I quite like you in this position."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

jimin

Jimin had had a hard day. All he could think about was you. Wanting you underneath him as he ravished your body. It was like this most days. You still hadn't had sex, despite being together for a while, but he didn't want to ruin anything between the two of you. He didn't know if you were ready, and he didn't want to scare you away.

It was only confirmed that you were ready when he had come home. His eyes were wide when his gaze fell upon you. You sat in a black lace body suit on the dining room table, black heeled boots stopping at your mid-thigh. It was a sight to behold.

"I was wondering when you'd make a move, Chim," you cooed, beckoning him over with a motion of your finger. "I've grown impatient."

Jimin grinned, his hands moving from your calves up your thighs. He was ready to lift you when you moved your leg and placed your foot against his chest, pushing him away. Jimin pouted.

"We're not going to the bedroom. Right here, right now."

Jimin didn't need to be told twice; he moved your leg out of the way and crashed his lips onto yours. Neither of you wasted a moment taking off Jimin's clothes.

You were pushed further back onto the table, giving Jimin plenty of space to move on top of you. He laced his fingers around the spaghetti strap of your body suit, groaning slightly at your scent.

"How did you know black was my favourite?" he whispered into your neck.

"Because you wear it all the time," you joked.

You gasped when Jimin moved his hand down to your breast, taking one and massaging it gently, kissing your neck. While he was preoccupied, you took it upon yourself to pull the straps of your bodysuit down.

Jimin moved the fabric down, exposing your breasts to him. You let your head fall back, waiting for him to pleasure you. It didn't come. Confused, you looked back at him. He was staring at your breasts, brows furrowed. You began to grow insecure, moving to cover yourself.

"No baby," he whispered. "You're beautiful. I just didn't know you had a tattoo."

A sigh of relief escaped you. Jimin finally moved, kissing up from your stomach to your tattoo, leaving you in anticipation as he made his way closer to your breasts.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

taehyung

Taehyung had been fighting the urge to take you then and there when he had seen you walk out in a bikini. You and the group were away for a weekend in the sun.

Both he and Jimin were equally shocked when you caught up with them. Taehyung's eyes trailed over your body, licking his lips as he did so. What he didn't expect, however, was that you had a tattoo that travelled from your upper thigh, up to your groin then around to your butt.

"Since when have you had a tattoo?" Taehyung suddenly blurted out.

"Oh. Uh," you paused, thinking for a moment. "I've had it for a while. Did I not tell you?"

"No."

"Well, sorry about that, baby," you pouted, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to swim for a bit, okay?"

Taehyung watched you, eyes burning with desire. He glanced to his side, noticing Jimin staring at you, mouth hanging open.

"Hey!" Taehyung scolded, playfully grabbing Jimin in a choke hold.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Jimin cried out, laughing as they both fell to the ground.

Their play fighting was noticed by the rest of the group, all now by the two boys' sides.

"What are you fighting about now?" Seokjin asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Taehyung's girlfirend is hot as fuck."

"Don't we already know this?" Jungkook asked teasingly, waiting for Taehyung's reaction.

"Do you want to take his place?" Taehyung threatened jokingly, shooting the youngest a glare.

"No, I mean," Jimin struggled under Taehyung." She's got a massive tattoo on her leg."

With that, they all looked out to the water, Jungkook and Yoongi especially.

"Wait, really?" Hoseok asked. Slowly, they all began to move towards you, their curiosity getting the better of them.

"No," Taehyung warned.

When Jungkook looked back at his friend, he grinned mischievously before sprinting off with the others. Taehyung scrambled to his feet, only to be caught and held down by Jimin, who was laughing.

"Y/n!"

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

jungkook

Jungkook loved drawing you. He found you so beautiful that he couldn't resist. But as of right now, he had taken a particular interest in human anatomy. Specifically, your anatomy.

"Please," Jungkook begged while you were sitting, drinking your morning tea.

"I don't see why you can't just use a model on Google," you protested, shooing him away with your hand.

"Because it's not you! That's why."

You let your head hang, taking a moment to think. At the end of the day, it wasn't going to be an issue. So why were you declining? You sighed, finally looking up into his doe-like eyes.

"Fine."

"Yes!" Jungkook cheered, kissing you on the temple. "When you've finished your tea, come down to the art room."

It wasn't long before you were downstairs, sitting in the middle of the room while he examined you. He wanted you to be in the perfect position.

"No, something isn't right," Jungkook mumbled, tapping his pencil against his chin.

He walked up to you, gently moving your body into different positions, making sure you weren't too uncomfortable. It was only when he started to unbutton your shirt, you slapped his hand away.

"What are you doing?"

"I need you naked," he responded casually.

When Jungkook was in his artistic or professional mode, nothing seemed to faze him. You arched a brow, but still complied, unbuttoning the shirt yourself.

"If you wanted to see me naked, baby, all you needed to do was ask," you teased.

Your comment seemed to have brought him back to his senses, as he blushed. It faded quickly, however, becoming serious again. Jungkook had begun to move you around again, getting you into the right position, when he stopped.

You watched as he stepped back, eyes squinting. He moved back to you, but instead of moving you, he touched between your breasts. You flushed at his actions, not expecting him to act so intimately.

"You never told me you had a tattoo," he mumbled. "It's beautiful."

"It won't ruin your drawing, will it?" you asked.

"No, baby. If anything, it'll make it that much more captivating," he breathed, moving to place a gentle kiss against your skin.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

hello there! thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed it! Posts may by a little slow, I've been dealing with rather sore heads at the moment, so I apologise in advance!

if you've made it this far please take a look at my other works. or you're interested in making a request please look at the links below!

masterlist | requests | request rules | prompt list

tranquilreign~

[champagnevi]

₊✧.⋆˚ hoseok's realization

hoseok, who was mesmerized the first time he saw you dance, captivated by the way you connected with the music, his eyes unconsciously following you for the rest of the rehearsal.

hoseok, who always tried to have you among his lead dancers whenever he had to choose, making sure to give you a spot by his side.

hoseok, who would casually approach your group during rehearsals, always looking for a chance to learn more about you.

hoseok, who was stunned when you agreed to go out to dinner with him… and the whole team. growing closer to you during those dinners, getting to know you little by little.

hoseok, who always made sure you had water and got enough rest during rehearsals, watching how hard you pushed yourself—staying behind long after everyone else had left, repeating the choreography over and over.

hoseok, who never failed to ask how you were feeling before stepping on stage, and every time you gave him a smile, his heart would pound a little harder, his own smile settling permanently on his face.

hoseok, who, the first time you asked him for help with some steps, noticed how your hands trembled with nerves and how you avoided meeting his eyes—feeling a tightness in his chest, vowing never to let you feel that way again.

hoseok, who gently assured you that you could always count on him and softly asked you to please look him in the eyes.

hoseok, who felt his entire face heat up when he realized jin had witnessed the whole interaction—only for jin to quickly apologize and bolt out of the room.

hoseok, who started making up the silliest excuses just to talk to you. "hey, do you think my new dance move makes me look cool or just unhinged?" he’d ask, dramatically demonstrating some exaggerated footwork—just to hear you laugh.

hoseok, who found himself tripping over his own feet the first time you actually complimented him—his usual effortless grace completely failing him.

hoseok, who swore he wasn’t nervous around you… until he knocked over an entire row of water bottles in the practice room because he was too focused on you.

hoseok, who couldn’t stop himself from glancing at you in the mirror every time you danced beside him—watching the way you moved, how the music seemed to live in your body.

hoseok, who kept waiting for you to notice. notice the way his teasing wasn’t just friendly, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the way his touch—when he helped adjust your posture or guided you through a step—was careful, lingering just a little more than necessary.

hoseok, who finally had enough of waiting.

so on a quiet evening, after a long rehearsal, when the team was packing up, he did something ridiculous just to get your attention.

he pretended to slip—not dramatically enough to make a scene, but just enough to stumble right into your path, making you jolt in surprise. "oops," he grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "guess I got a little distracted."

you laughed, shaking your head at him, completely unaware of the warmth in his gaze.

and that’s when he finally said it.

"wanna go for a walk by the river with me?"

your head tilted slightly. "right now?"

"yeah," he said, his voice softer this time, more real. "just us."

and when you nodded, his smile was so wide, so pure, that even the stars above the river couldn’t compare.

[oursoyicookie]

✦ j-hope﹙bts﹚𝓛𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch16

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

overall warnings: smut, profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.

chapter contents: ANGST. like the whole thing is angst lol. jungkook cries for like 90% of this chapter. nari is SO fucking angry omg. oc breaks tf down. the chapter weve all been dreading is here </3 idk but its just like super angsty and sad im sorry lmfao

wc: not thattt long

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii

a/n: rushed to get this out, and this is like prob the worst part of the story to rush. so im very very sorry if this didnt meet expectations cause it didnt really meet mine, but imma be busy for a bit. but ANYWAYS!! tysm for reading and ILY MWAHH. also pre warning to my smut lovers… there wont be much for a while. LMFAO.

masterlist, < prev | next >

“Jungkook, honey, when will you be enlisting?”

The question lands like a gunshot.

Jungkook tenses immediately. His brain spins.

He knew this was coming.

You see it happen—his grip on his chopsticks tightening, his whole body subtly stiffening, like he’s bracing himself. Like he’s debating whether to lie.

For a fleeting second, he considers lying. The words I haven’t decided yet are right there, waiting on his tongue—

But he can’t.

Not in front of your parents.

Not in front of you.

Before he can say anything, Nari—who has now fully given up on finishing the food your parents have shoved in front of her—speaks up, still looking a little sick.

“Oh, Auntie,” she pauses, tilting her head. “I swear idols don’t have to enlist? And Jungkook—well—he’s definitely more than just a damn idol.”

“Nari! Language!” your mom whisper-shouts.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mutters.

You snort, but then—

Your dad hums, turning to Jungkook with an easy grin. “You didn’t apply for exemption, did you? Too many idols these days are lazy, trying to avoid it.”

Jungkook’s head is ringing. His hands are clammy.

This was not how he wanted to tell you.

He tries to keep his composure, but his fingers twitch against his jeans as he stares down at his plate, trying—failing—to find the right response.

You tilt your head, and Jungkook exhales, thankful that you’re stalling unintentionally, but his heart aches at how oblivious you are for whats about to come. “Dad, I swear you didn’t enlist?”

Your dad gasps, hand over his heart. “What?! Honey, don’t expose me like that!”

You giggle.

But your dad cuts in. “Nari, honey, they can apply for exemption.” He smirks. “But Jungkook here doesn’t seem like the type, so I doubt he would.”

You let out a breathy chuckle at his tone—but Jungkook? doesn’t even react.

You glance over at him, confused.

And that’s when you notice, he’s staring down at his plate. Picking at his food. Shoulders tight.

Then, finally—

“Yeah…” His voice is quiet. “I didn’t apply.”

A weird, unsettling feeling starts creeping up your spine.

It’s fine, you think. You guess.

You try not to read into it.

Your mom beams. “Oh, how wonderful!”

Your dad nods approvingly. “Good son! It’s only right. Too many try to weasel their way out of it these days.” He claps Jungkook on the back, and Jungkook barely sways from the impact.

You don’t think too much of it at first.

But—

Why didn’t you know about this?

It’s not like you talk about the military all the time, but still. Something like this—you’d think he would have mentioned it.

So, you ask, all casual, assuming, “It’s not soon, right?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer.

The whole table listens in, but Nari—now more alert—watches him intently. Probably just as confused as you are. Your parents are still oblivious, still smiling, still talking, but Jungkook—

He’s pale.

Fidgety.

His hand curls into a tight fist on his thigh.

And then, “December 12th.”

That’s-

Three weeks.

Your mom gasps in admiration. “That’s so soon! You must be so prepared, Jungkook, honey!”

Your dad grins. “Oh this is great! We need more like you!”

They praise him. Clap him on the back. Smile and celebrate and talk about how proud they are of him.

But you—

You can’t hear any of it.

Your world has just—stopped.

December 12.

December 12.

That’s in—

Your stomach drops.

Your heartbeat slams in your ears.

Because he’s known. He’s known this entire time. And he never told you.

You feel Nari stiffen beside you.

You feel Jungkook’s eyes on you.

You feel the weight of every moment you’ve spent with him, every touch, every kiss, every look—

And suddenly, they all feel different.

Your mom is oblivious, still smiling.

Your eyes flick to Nari, who is already looking at Jungkook with pure anger.

Jungkook?

Jungkook doesn’t even try to meet your gaze anymore.

He looks down, fingers tightening around his jeans, jaw clenched, face tense.

And you?

You don’t look at him, either.

You can’t. Because if you do. If you let yourself feel—

This whole moment will collapse.

The realization. The pure fucking heartbreak. The slow, suffocating understanding that he’s known all along. That he’s been lying to you this entire time.

Your stomach churns. Your chest tightens. It feels like the room is spinning.

In the background—

Your dad is still praising him.

Your mom is smiling.

They don’t know.

They don’t know that you’re sitting here, staring at the man you’ve been falling for, realizing he let you fall knowing he was going to leave. And he didn’t tell you.

You don’t say anything. Because you can’t.

Because if you open your mouth, you’ll either scream or cry, and you don’t know which one is worse.

You sit there. Expression neutral. Heart in pieces. And for the rest of dinner, you pretend everything is fine.

Because what else can you do?

“Honey this is amazing!” your mom praises. “You should be so proud of yourself sweetheart. Not enough idols do this nowadays. They’re too lazy—but you! You’re different.”

Your dad grins. “Good for you, kid. That’s real responsibility.”

Jungkook forces a smile, nodding politely. “Thank you…”

But. You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because everything in you has just—stopped.

He’s not joking. He’s not lying.

And when you glance across the table. Nari is staring back at you, frozen. Expression blank.

Because she knows. She knows what this means.

You swallow thickly, blinking a few times before finally forcing yourself to react—plastering on a small, tight-lipped smile. Your mom notices. “Oh, honey, did you not know?”

You make the mistake of glancing at Jungkook.

And the second you do, your stomach twists, because he’s looking right at you. And there’s something in his expression—guilt, maybe?

You don’t know. You don’t want to know.

So you tear your gaze away, forcing out a quiet, “No.”Your smile is strained. “I didn’t.”

But your parents don’t notice anything wrong at all. They don’t notice how he’s broken your heart into a million pieces and thrown it onto the fucking plate.

“Oh, sweetheart, you should be proud of him,” your mom says, nudging your arm. “That’s real dedication.”

Your dad nods. “Yeah, not like these new idols. Always finding loopholes to get out of it.”

Jungkook laughs a little, though it’s barely there. “Right…”

You don’t look at him. You don’t dare. The conversation shifts.

Your parents are still chatting away, completely oblivious, but the air at the table has turned suffocating.

Jungkook is tense.

Nari is pissed, sending him quiet but absolutely lethal glares between sips of water she’s clearly no longer enjoying.

And you?

Your ears are ringing.

Every sound feels distant, like you’re underwater, like you’re not really here. Your mom’s voice is coming from somewhere—she’s asking you something, something about your job, your life, your well-being. You try to answer. You swear you try.

But everything in you is screaming to just—leave. Because the longer you sit here, the more you feel like you might snap.

Jungkook keeps trying to look at you. You can feel it, the weight of his gaze burning into the side of your face. But you don’t look back. You can’t.

Finally. After what feels like hours, your parents get up. Your mom claps her hands. “Alright, we should get going.”

Your dad nods. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

You almost sag in relief.

But then, it’s time for goodbyes.

And your parents never leave quickly, your mother—God bless her—takes another ten minutes to actually leave.

They offer to help clean up. “No, Auntie, it’s okay,” Nari says so fast that it’s almost aggressive. She stands abruptly, already stacking plates, ushering them toward the door like a damn bouncer.

Your mom takes her sweet time hugging you, kissing your cheek, stroking your hair like you’re a child. “Take care of yourself, honey, okay?”

Your dad is just as bad, clapping Jungkook on the back, laughing at something he says.

And then—

Right before they leave—

For the first time all night—you look at him.

He stands frozen, stiff as a board, as your dad extends a hand. Jungkook hesitates. And then, slowly, he takes it.

It’s an easy handshake at first. But then your dad’s grip tightens, his free hand coming up to clasp Jungkook’s shoulder.

A grin. A squeeze.

And then, “Treat her right, son.”

Something snaps. Jungkook swallows so hard you hear it.

You almost break. Your vision blurs. Your chest tightens. For a split second, your heart begs you to stop. To not let this ruin everything.

Silence.

Jungkook stiffens beside you, but you don’t even glance at him.

You just—nod.

Then, finally—finally—the door swings shut.

And then—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Nari screams, running a hand through her hair. The sound shatters through the air, echoing off the walls, rattling your bones.

You flinch—because she’s loud, yes—but also because you feel it. All of it. All at once.

Your entire body crumbles.

Tears spill down your cheeks so fast, so violently, that your vision swims. Your breath catches—hitches—and then you’re gasping.

Jungkook is shocked.

Because this? this is worse than he imagined.

He expected you to yell. To curse him out. To demand answers. But this? This silent, broken kind of crying?

This hurts so much more.

And the worst part? He did this to you.

Jungkook barely breathes. You barely stand.

The weight of it all—the realization, the betrayal, the embarrassment—is crushing you.

Your chest tightens. Your throat burns.

And Nari? Nari is just getting started.

“When the fuck were you planning on telling her this?!” she shrieks, hands shaking, voice cracking. “Were you just gonna disappear one day? Huh? Just vanish without a goddamn word?”

Jungkook flinches.

But he doesn’t speak.

“How could you even come here today?” she hisses, stepping closer. “Meet her fucking parents? You embarrassed her, and I fucking hate you for it, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t fight back.

Because what could he even say? He just—stands there. Takes it.

But his eyes—his eyes never leave you. You, who hasn’t spoken a single word. You, who is just standing there—staring at the floor, trembling.

You, who looks like you’re about to collapse.

But Nari—she isn’t done.

“I actually thought you were good,” she spits, voice shaking with rage. “I actually thought—maybe, just maybe—you weren’t like the rest of them. But this? This is worse.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches. His hands shake.

“Did you plan this all along?” she demands.

“No,” he whispers.

It’s all he can say.

Because anything else would be a lie.

“That’s it?!” Nari’s voice shatters. “That’s all you have to fucking say?!”

And then—

Jungkook moves. Takes a step toward you. Reaches out.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

You flinch. Like his touch would burn you. Like he’s something you need to get away from.

Jungkook freezes.

His heart shatters more than it already has. But before he can even process it—

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!” Nari screams. “SORRY WON’T FUCKING FIX THIS!”

And then— You break.

“Get out.” Your voice rips from your throat, raw, quiet, desperate.

Jungkook stares.

He saw this coming. He knew this was coming.

And yet. Somehow, he’s still surprised.

Because this—this is final.

This is you letting go.

And he can’t accept it.

“Wait,” he chokes, voice frantic, desperate. “Please—”

But you? You just—give up. Your knees buckle. Your body collapses. And suddenly—Nari snaps.

“You fucking heard her.”

And before Jungkook can even think, before he can even breathe, Nari shoves him back.

Pushes him toward the door.

“Go.”

Jungkook is begging.

“Please,” he gasps, trying to look at you, trying to reach for you. “Baby, please—”

But you—

You don’t look at him.

“Don’t fucking call-“ You turn away.

And then, the door slams shut.

The loudest sound in the room isn’t your sobs anymore—it’s the door clicking shut. His scent lingers, his touch still lingers, and the memory of his eyes when he begged you, his voice soft- begging as he called you “baby,” is burned into your mind.

Nari is beside you, her anger radiating, palpable in the air.

Outside

Jungkook doesn’t move. His forehead rests against the door, fingers curled into fists at his sides. His chest is heaving. His vision is blurring.

He’s begging.

Not out loud—no, because he knows that won’t work.

But in his head—inside his breaking, desperate heart— He’s begging.

“Please open the door.”

“Please say this was a joke.”

“Please tell me this isn’t real.”

He selfishly hopes you’ll open the door with that same smile on your face. Your eyes swollen from crying, your face puffy, but still, he imagines you pulling him in, kissing him like you always do, running your fingers through his hair the way you did earlier, and telling him, “I’m not mad at you, stupid. You’re such a dumbass, stop crying.”

But, he knows it’s real.

He knows he fucked up. Selfishly, he craves just one more minute, hoping somehow you’ll give in, even though he knows it’s impossible. He should’ve told you. He fucking knows it.

God, he just wants one more chance. Just one more minute to make things right. His breath is shaky, uneven as he tilts his head back against the wood, squeezing his eyes shut.

From inside—

He hears you.

And his whole world stops.

Inside

On the inside, you sit against the door, still sobbing, your mind racing through everything you two have shared. How fucking real it all felt. For him to just end it like that—it doesn’t make sense. You thought you had more time, that you could actually do this with him. But he fucked up. You can’t figure out what else to do, what to think.

Legs curled up, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater, tears streaming down your face.

You shouldn’t be here.

You should be angry, should be yelling, should be hating him with everything in you.

But instead?

You’re waiting.

Waiting for him to knock.

Waiting for him to say it was all a prank, that he somehow set this up with your parents, that this isn’t really happening—

That he isn’t leaving.

But— He doesn’t.

And Nari? Nari sees it all.

“Oh my fucking God,” she snaps. “Y/N, get the fuck UP.”

You flinch.

But you don’t move. You can’t.

“Are you serious right now?” she demands. “Are you actually serious? After everything? After all of this? You’re still sitting there waiting for him like a fucking sad puppy?!”

Your fingers tighten around your sleeves.

Your breath shudders. Because she’s right.

You hate that she’s right. But it doesn’t stop you from wanting him anyway.

Outside

Jungkook can hear everything. The muffled sounds of Nari yelling.

The tiny, broken sounds of you crying.

And suddenly, he can’t breathe. His throat tightens. His fingers dig into his hair as his body shakes, as his mind races. “What the fuck did I do.”

It’s hitting him now. All of it.

The way you flinched from his touch. The way you collapsed the second he walked out the door. The way you haven’t opened it since.

The reality of it all. That he was always going to hurt you. That this was always going to end this way. That you—the one person who ever made him feel normal, made him feel safe, made him feel like just Jungkook and not fucking BTS Jungkook—

You’re gone. And he did it. He did this.

Inside

You wipe at your face, sniffing, eyes puffy, throat raw. But you don’t move from the door.

Even though you know he’s not coming back. Even though you know this is over. Even though you should hate him—

You don’t.

You still love him.

And that’s the worst part of all. Because even after all of this— Even after everything—

You still would have chosen him.

Outside

Jungkook isn’t crying anymore.

Not because it doesn’t hurt. Not because he isn’t breaking apart, piece by piece, on this very doorstep. But because— He feels numb.

Like his body has shut down entirely.Like his mind has accepted what his heart refuses to. Like he knows there’s nothing left to say.

But still. He doesn’t leave. Instead, he sits there. Back against the door. Knees drawn up. Eyes red. Ears straining.

Because he knows he shouldn’t, but he listens. Selfishly.

Desperately.

Pathetically clinging onto the last part of you he has left:

Your voice.

Inside

The silence is loud. It’s heavy.

It hangs over the room like thick smoke—like something toxic, something suffocating, something that lingers in your lungs long after the damage is done. You’re not crying anymore.

Neither is Nari screaming. But she’s still fuming. Still pacing. Still muttering under her breath, hands clenching at her sides, voice low and dangerous.

“He’s dead to me.”

You exhale.

And then—

“Nari, please stop.” Your voice is hoarse. Tired. Defeated. And just like that—

Nari softens. She hesitates for a moment, then sighs, sinking down next to you, knees brushing. Her anger is still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

But right now?

Right now, she’s more concerned about you.

You just laugh. A broken, breathless, manic little laugh, something that barely even sounds like you.

“I think I fell in love with him.” Unsteady. Blurted.

Like you’re just now realizing it yourself.

Like the words are only just now settling into your bones, taking root in your chest, hitting you with full force.

Nari exhales.

She looks at you, something soft behind her gaze.

“Wow,” she murmurs. “You’re just now realizing?”

You don’t answer. You just blink, staring blankly ahead, expression unreadable.

Outside

Jungkook breaks all over again. Because he hears it. Every word. Every breath. And he knows he has no right to. But still. He presses his forehead against the door. Shuts his eyes. And cries. Harder.

——

Jungkook stays longer than he should.

Longer than makes sense.

Longer than is reasonable, considering he’s not even sure if he’s breathing at this point, or if his body is just running on pure muscle memory—just existing on this doorstep like it’s the last place he’ll ever belong.

A door creaks.

A neighbor steps out, and old man who clearly isn’t happy about the commotion, barely sparing him a glance before walking back inside.

And then another.

And another.

And soon, Jungkook realizes, people are staring.

Of course they are.

Of course the guy hunched over on the doorstep, looking like he just got physically wrecked by the universe, is gonna get some attention.

Finally, he forces himself to move. To stand. To leave.

His legs feel like they’re made of lead.

His head is still spinning.

But he shoves his hands in his pockets, pulls his hoodie up over his face, and drags himself away—

From you. From everything.

And he doesn’t look back.

Not even once.

——

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there.

Time doesn’t feel real.

It feels like the air in the room is thick, like something heavy is pressing down on your chest, keeping you in place.

“Was it even…fucking real?” Your voice is sharp. Raw.

Loud enough that Nari actually flinches beside you, turning to face you with wide eyes. But you don’t stop. You can’t.

“Was this his fucking plan all along? Like, what was it? Was it all just—was it just—” You can’t even finish the sentence. You just shake your head, laughing bitterly, the sound more painful than anything else.

“Was any of it real?”

Nari stares at you.

And for the first time tonight—

She doesn’t have an immediate answer. Her lips part, like she wants to say something.

She exhales.

“I fucking hate him for this.”

Her voice is quieter now. Softer. Like the anger has dulled—like it’s settled into something else.

“But I know it was real.”

You freeze. You blink at her.

“What?”

“You’re blind, Y/N,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “Stop trying to make conclusions that aren’t there.”

Your chest tightens.

“Then—then why?” Your voice cracks.

And Nari exhales again, looking down.

“He was scared.” And the second the words leave her mouth, the second they sink in, you feel like the ground beneath you just— Collapses.

The room is unbearably quiet now.

Your tears have dried. Your breathing has evened out. Your body isn’t shaking anymore. But inside?

Inside, you still feel like you’ve been hollowed out and left to rot.

You stare at the ceiling, vision unfocused.

You can feel Nari beside you, sitting cross-legged on the couch which she’d dragged you to, scrolling through her phone like she isn’t still raging inside. Like she isn’t still thinking of all the ways she could actually kill Jungkook and make it look like an accident.

“Y/N.” Her voice is firm. You blink.

“Look at me.”

You do.

She sets her phone down, leveling you with a stare so serious that, for a second, you think she might actually be about to lecture you.

And, well—

You’re right.

“There is no way that shit was not fucking real.”

You exhale through your nose.

“Nari—”

“No, shut the fuck up, I’m talking.”

You blink at her.

“Jungkook did not spend all this time with you, did not look at you the way he did, did not literally put himself, his career at risk, just for it to be nothing,” she continues. “Do you hear yourself? Like, do you hear how insane you sound right now?”

You press your lips together.

“He was scared,” she says, softer now. “That’s it. That’s literally all there is to it. He was scared, and he was selfish, and he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to deal with the fact that he had to fucking leave. That’s not an excuse, by the way, it’s just—” she exhales, shaking her head. “It’s just the truth.”

You don’t respond. You just stare at her.

“This was never just casual for him,” she mutters. “That’s not what you should be worried about.”

Your throat tightens.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Nari doesn’t have an answer. She stares at you. And then, “I don’t know.”

The two of you just—sit there.

Exhausted. Numb. Waiting for something—

Even though neither of you know what.

The silence lingers.

It settles into the room like dust—slow, heavy, inescapable.

Neither of you move for a long time.

You don’t cry anymore. Nari doesn’t rant anymore. The rage, the heartbreak, the tension—it’s all dulled into exhaustion, weighing down every inch of your body.

Eventually, though—

“Come on,” Nari murmurs.

You don’t react.

“Y/N.”

A hand nudges your arm.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You exhale.

Then, finally—finally—you move.

You don’t even bother freshening up. You don’t even turn on the lights. But— “No, bitch, you need to take off your makeup.”

You blink, disoriented, as Nari flicks on the bathroom light and drags you toward the sink. “You don’t wanna break out, do you?” she mutters, trying to act normal. Trying to lighten the mood.

You stare at your reflection, and you look…bad.

Your eyes are puffy. Your nose is red. Your lips are swollen from crying.

You just look tired.

Nari wets a cotton pad.

You don’t stop her as she presses it to your face, wiping away the remnants of your mascara.

You don’t say anything when she takes out your skincare, applying it carefully, murmuring little instructions like “Look up” and “This one says…hydration”—

Just like he did.

Your chest aches.

You pretend it’s him.

Pretend it’s his fingers against your skin. Pretend he’s standing in front of you, talking through every step, teasing you for not taking better care of your face.

Nari knows exactly what you’re doing.

But she doesn’t say anything.

She just keeps going.

And when she’s finished, she clicks off the light and pulls you into your room, not giving you the chance to be alone.

You don’t argue.

You just follow.

You both collapse onto your bed, and Nari doesn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around you.

You cling to her tighter than you ever have before.

She doesn’t say anything about it.

Just lets you press your face into her shoulder, lets you shake against her, lets you hold on as if she’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

And even though Nari is always the first to knock out.

Tonight, she fights to stay awake.

She waits. She listens to your breathing slow, doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, doesn’t let go—

Not until she’s absolutely sure you’ve finally fallen asleep

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts react to their kids being disrespectful towards their wife?

💌 Reply:

Ahh, I hope this is what you wanted... I took me way too long, but I got so many ideas while writing this.

This blog is honestly turning into BTS Parent AU (crying in orphan) - I started with a J-Hope Dad fic and end up writing Dad Headcanons for whole Bangtan - well, it kinda heals my childhood lol...

Thanks for the Request and feel free to reach out 💜 and HAVE FUN reading ✨️✨️

“Respect isn’t a rule, it’s the soil we grow in. If you poison it, nothing blooms.”

NAMJOON

Philosopher-leader

introspective

values growth through empathy & dialogue

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

when he hears the disrespect, his grip tightens on whatever he’s holding, knuckles whitening

closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling through his nose

you know how his jaw clenches? THAT!!!

his voice is low but steady, deliberate calm masking his hurt

“That language isn’t acceptable. Let’s take a walk.”

Internal Feelings: 

disappointment curdles in his chest

mentally files it away to process later

blames himself first before focusing on guiding his child

Teaching Moment

Nature Walk

takes his child to a quiet park or riverbank

points to tangled tree roots: 

“See how they hold each other up? Families are like that. When you hurt Mom, you shake our roots.” 

asks them to find a smooth stone and toss it into water

“Words are like ripples, once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

Punishment

1) Apology Letter & Reflection Essay

his child writes two things

heartfelt apology to their mom, including specific examples of her sacrifices

A 1-page reflection on “How My Words Impact Others,” using a metaphor; e.g., “Anger is fire,it burns the person holding it too”

2) Community Service

would volunteer with his child at a local community garden for a weekend

“You’ll water plants and see how care grows something beautiful. Like Mom does for us.”

3) Lost Privileges

no screen time (tablet, TV) until both letters are completed to his standards

Internal Conflict

Self-Doubt:

later, he vents in his journal

 “Did I overreact? Am I too abstract for them to understand?” 

worries his calmness comes off as indifference

Frustration & Compassion

part of him wants to yell "How dare they hurt her?" but he swallows it, knowing anger won’t teach

instead, texts his wife: 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll fix this together.”

Guilt

buys her favorite latte and leaves it on her desk with a sticky note

“You’re our bedrock. Thank you for enduring my learning curves too.”

Follow-Up

Family Meeting

gathers everyone to discuss “healthy communication.”

uses a whiteboard to map emotions

e.g., “When you’re angry, here’s how we express it without explosions”

lets his child lead part of the discussion

Ritual

starts a weekly “Gratitude Stone” tradition

each family member drops a painted stone into a bowl while sharing something they appreciate about the others

the bowl stays on the dining table as a visual reminder

_________________________________________

“Respect your mom, or I’ll revoke your WiFi and your right to laugh at my jokes. And trust me, you need both to survive.”

JIN

playful disciplinarian

fiercely protective

humor as a bridge to vulnerability

nurturing with a side of theatrics

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Dramatic Flair

whirls around, clutching his chest like a K-drama lead

“Yah! Did I just hear disrespect in this household? To the woman who gave you life? Are you a villain in a weekend drama now?” 

his voice drops, dead serious

“Apologize. Properly. Now.”

Body Language

looms over his child (playfully intimidating), arms crossed

winks at his wife to reassure her he’s handling it

Internal Feelings

hot flash of anger - How dare they hurt her?

masks it with humor to avoid scaring his kid

secretly wonders - Did I joke too much about respect? Is this my fault?

Teaching Moment

Cooking Lesson Consequences

drags his kid to the kitchen

“You think parenting is easy? Let’s see you handle dinner.” 

carefully forces them to peel garlic, chop onions, and stir a bubbling pot while he “supervises” from a stool

Metaphor Time

 “Mom’s like this stew, holds everything together. You insult her, the whole family falls apart. You wanna taste chaos? Here...” 

lets them sip over-salted broth

“See? Without her balance, life’s spicy in the worst way.”

Punishment:

Apology Performance

he'd make them sing an apology parody of Super Tuna (Jin writes lyrics if they're younger/need help) (too personal opinion)

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was a fool / I broke the golden respect rule!”

complete with fish-themed choreography

Mom’s Personal Assistant

for a week, his kid acts as Mom’s “manager”

bringing her coffee, massaging her shoulders, and taking notes on her daily tasks

“You’ll learn how hard she works and say ‘Yes, Queen’ with a smile.”

No Joke Privilege

bans his child from his dad-joke sessions (their favorite bonding time) until they earn back trust

“Comedy’s a privilege for people who respect their co-stars.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt & Second-Guessing

after bedtime, he stress-eats kimchi pancakes in the kitchen

mutters to his wife: 

“Was I too harsh? Should I have hugged them first?” 

(if she reassures him, he still texts his mom at 2 a.m.)

“How did you not disown me when I was 13 and edgy?”

Protective Fury

secretly grinds his teeth remembering the disrespect

Humor as Armor

buys his wife expensive skincare “just because”

glares at hiskid’s homework like it personally offended her

cracks a joke during the apology song

“Your high note needs work, but the remorse is chef’s kiss”

makes sure his child knows he’s dead serious underneath

Follow-Up

Family Dinner Theater

institutes a weekly “Appreciation Roast” where everyone playfully roasts each other, but he'd end up praising his child and wife

“Your mom’s so amazing, she makes the sun jealous. Fight me.”

Secret Spy Mission

assigns his kid to stealthily document Mom’s daily acts of kindness (e.g., packing lunches, fixing Wi-Fi)

“Mom Appreciation PowerPoint.” = Jin adds meme slides for flair

_________________________________________

“Your anger’s a tool. Use it to fix what you broke, not break what she fixed.”

SUGA

stoic realist

quietly protective

values actions over empty words

emotionally reserved

deeply introspective

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Cold Silence

freezes mid-task (producing beats, fixing a coffee)

eyes narrowing to slits

voice drops to a low, icy register

“Repeat that. Slowly.” 

room chills, even the air feels heavier

Body Language

leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw clenched

a vein pulses at his temple, the only tell of his simmering rage

Internal Feelings

visceral flashback to his teenage self snapping at his parents

guilt claws at him

“Am I failing like I thought he did?” 

referencing his own father’s emotional distance

Teaching Moment

Studio Session

drags his kid to his home studio at midnight

slams headphones onto them

“You’re angry? Scream. Spit it into the mic. Let’s hear exactly what’s rotting in your head.” 

records their raw, unfiltered outburst

plays it back, deadpan

“This what you want your legacy to be? Noise?”

Lyric Exercise

forces them to transform the rant into structured rap verses 

“Anger’s useless if it doesn’t build something. Mom’s your hook, write a chorus thanking her.”

Punishment

Gratitude Ledger

his child must document every thing Mom does for them for a week, down to folded socks

present it as a spreadsheet

 “Numbers don’t lie. Now apologize in data.”

Manual Labor

assigns them to clean the studio top-to-bottom

“You wanna disrespect the woman who cleans your messes? Learn the weight of it.”

Tech Ban

confiscates their phone/laptop until the rap is perfected

“You’ll communicate face-to-face like we did in the trenches.”

Internal Conflict

Fatherhood Ghosts

stares at old family photos late at night

his father’s stern face haunts him

“Will my kid remember me as a wall or a weapon?” 

texts his mom

“Did I ever make you feel small?” 

she replies with a heart emoji, he saves it but doesn’t sleep

Emotional Paradox 

wants to hug his child but fears coddling

leaves a new pair of sneakers (their size) outside their door -no note

Protective Rage

slips cash into his wife’s purse with a scribbled 

“Buy silence. Spa. Dinner. Whatever. I’ll handle the chaos.”

Follow-Up

Family Cypher

hosts a living room rap battle

he goes hardest on himself

“I’m a flawed king, but Mom’s the throne. Diss her again, and you’ll rap alone.” 

his kid’s verse earns a nod

“Better. Still trash flow, though.”

Silent Ritual

every Sunday, he and his child cook his mom’s kimchi jjigae recipe

no talking, just chopping, stirring, and passing ingredients

“Respect’s in the labor,” he mutters once, and his kid finally gets it

_________________________________________

”You can’t fake respect like a bad dance cover. Nail the basics, or you’re benched from my WiFi."

J-HOPE

radiant disciplinarian

structured yet warm

balances positivity with unwavering principles

thrives on growth through accountability

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

The Judge Face Activated

the moment he hears the disrespect, his signature smile evaporates

eyes narrow into a laser-focused stare

brows furrowing into "courtroom glare."

stands tall, arms crossed, fingertips tapping his biceps

silent countdown to explosion

Voice

sharp and clipped, volume rising just enough to sting

“Hold. Up. Did you just speak to your mother like that? Do you need a mirror to see how ugly that sounded?”

Body Language

steps between his child and his wife, a protective shield

his usually animated hands now rigid at his sides, fists briefly clenching

Teaching Moment

Choreography of Consequences

”Respect Rehearsal”

forces his child to practice bowing and polite phrases

”Yes, Mom,” “Thank you, Mom” 50 times in front of a mirror “You wanna act up? Perfect your performance as a decent human first.”

Gratitude Graffiti

hands them poster boards and markers

“You have one hour to turn this disrespect into art. Every color is a reason Mom deserves better.” 

stands arms crossed, critiquing laziness

“That’s yellow effort. I’ve seen your TikToks, do rainbow.”

Hope’s Homework

assigns a essay titled ”How My Words Dance on Others’ Hearts”

must include a choreography metaphor

“If you can’t write it, we’ll literalize it. Ten pirouettes per paragraph.”

Internal Conflict

Post-Punishment Panic

“Was I too much? Did I break their spirit? What if they hate me now?” 

after sending his kid to their room, he paces the kitchen

stress-eating gummy bears

texts Jimin: 

”Hyung messed up. I went full dance captain on them 😭”

Guilty Glimpses

peeks into his child’s room later, heart aching if they’re crying

leaves a bowl of their favorite fruit with a note

”Anger fades. Love doesn’t. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Wife Reassurance

kneads his wife’s shoulders that night, voice small

“Did I… overstep? I just... I couldn’t let them think it’s okay to dim your light.” he exhales shakily

Follow-Up

Apology Showcase

makes his child present their poster and essay at a “family meeting.”

he claps loudest, eyes misty

”This… this is hope, right? Growth!”

Kindness Choreo

creates a ”Respect Routine”

his child must perform one act of service for Mom daily (e.g., making her coffee, tidying her shoes)

Dance Floor Therapy

blasts upbeat music, pulling his kid into a silly dance-off. 

”Life’s a stage, yeah? But Mom’s the main audience. Never forget.”

_________________________________________

“You’re my blood. But if you cut her, I’ll bleed harder. Fix this.”

JIMIN

affectionate empath

fiercely loyal

balances warmth with unexpected intensity

prioritizes emotional harmony

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Surprising Fury

his doe eyes harden into a steel-gray glare

voice dropping to a razor-sharp whisper

“What did you just say to her?” 

steps closer, posture taut as a bowstring

“You don’t ever speak to Mom like that. Apologize. Now.”

Body Language

hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but suppressed rage

he grips his child’s shoulder, not roughly, but firm enough to ground them

“Look at her. Look at how you made her feel.”

Internal Feelings

flash of his own childhood guilt surfaces

that time he snapped at his mother during trainee stress

his anger is laced with panic: 

“Am I repeating cycles I swore to break?”

Teaching Moment

Emotional Bootcamp

Apology Art

forces his child to create a “Heart Map” collage

photos of Mom’s sacrifices, surrounded by handwritten apologies in every color

“If you can’t say it, show it.”

sits silently beside them, tears brimming as he points to a photo of Mom staying up late with homework

Role Reversal

makes them act out a skit where they’re the parent

Jimin plays them, mimicking their harsh tone

feigns sobbing into a pillow

“Feel good? Proud? This is what you did.”

Service Sentence

his child must take over Mom’s chores for a week, packing lunches, folding laundry

he supervises, arms crossed 

“You think her love is free? It’s labor. Respect it.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt Spiral

after confrontation, he locks himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face

“Did I scare them? What if they think I’m a monster?” 

texts Jungkook: 

”Messed up. I sounded like a monster”

Midnight Check-In

creeps into his child’s room at 2 a.m., tucking them in

whispers

“I’m sorry I yelled. But Mom… she’s my soul. You can’t break her.” 

leaves a handwritten note: 

“Anger is love that’s bleeding. Let’s heal together.”

Wife’s Reassurance

clings to her that night, forehead pressed to her shoulder

“Tell me I’m not failing. Tell me they’ll still love me.”

Soft Family Resolution

Pillow Fort Summit:

builds a blanket fort in the living room

stuffed with snacks and fairy lights

initiates a feelings circle

“I’m sorry I yelled. I felt scared; scared we’d lose us.” 

“Love is sticky, yeah? Messy. But sweet when you knead it right.” 

encourages his child to share

pulls them into a cuddle pile

Baking Therapy

bakes cookies together, Jimin guiding their hands

feeds Mom the first bite, eyes soft

Dance of Apology

plays a slow song, swaying with his child

“This is how we say sorry without words.” 

by the end, they’re both laughing through tears

_________________________________________

“Disrespect your mom, and you erase the art of our family. I’ll burn the palette until you paint her properly.”

TAEHYUNG (V)

artistic empath

whimsical yet profound

values emotional depth and creativity

fiercely protective with a tender heart

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Quiet Intensity

his playful demeanor evaporates

tilts his head, eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze

voice low and steady

“Did I just hear you disrespect the universe that holds our family together?”

his tone is velvet wrapped in steel

Body Language

steps closer, crouching to his child’s level

hands clasped tightly behind his back to avoid trembling

“You think words are just air? They’re echoes. Let’s make sure yours don’t haunt us.”

Teaching Moment

Metaphor-Driven Lesson:

”Broken Vase” Analogy

brings out a delicate ceramic vase

smashes it deliberately

“This was us. Now fix it.” 

hands them glue, forcing them to piece it back

“Apologies are glue, but cracks remain. Choose your words wisely.”

Songwriting Therapy

drags his child to the piano

“Turn your anger into music. Write a chorus for Mom, every line a reason she’s our melody.” 

plays minor chords until his child’s lyrics shift from defiance to remorse

Silent Gallery

curates a “Mom Exhibit” in the living room

photos, her favorite scarf, a recipe card

forces his child to stand there for an hour

“Breathe in her soul. Then tell me she deserves disrespect.”

Consequence

1) Art Ban

revokes access to paints, instruments, or cameras until the vase is repaired and the song is performed for Mom

“Creativity is a privilege. Use it to heal, not harm.”

2) Memory Journal: 

assigns a diary to log daily acts of kindness from Mom 

“Fill 10 pages. Then burn one and see how it feels to erase her love.”

3) Shadow Day: 

his child must follow Mom for 24 hours, documenting her tasks in a sketchbook

“You’ll learn her language of love—it’s spelled S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E.”

Internal Conflict

Doubt in Darkness

late at night, he stares at the fractured vase on his shelf

texts Jin: 

“Hyung, what if I’m too abstract? What if they don’t see?” 

vowing, “I’ll be the parent who stays in the frame.”

Guilt in Gestures

secretly films Mom’s daily routine, editing it into a montage set to his child’s song

leaves it on their laptop with a note: 

“Her love is your legacy. Don’t let it be a silent film.”

Protective Poetry

writes a letter he never sends: 

“I’d raze galaxies to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Resolution

Family Portrait Session

dresses everyone in coordinating hues

directing a photoshoot where Mom is the focal point

whispered to his child: 

“See how she outshines us all? That’s why we orbit her.”

Midnight Storytime

gathers them under fairy lights

recounting a fable about a boy who lost his voice after hurting his mother

ends with, “Love is the only language worth speaking.”

Collaborative Art

paints a mural together titled “Home.”

guides his child’s hand to outline Mom’s figure

“Without her, this canvas is empty. Now fill it with light.”

_________________________________________

“Disrespect Mom, and you’ll spar with me until your heart matches your mouth, strong enough to lift her, not tear her down.”

JUNGKOOK

gentle protector

resilient softie

leads by example

values hard work and emotional honesty

channels intensity into growth

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Silent Fury

freezes mid-rep at the gym, dumbbell hovering

his muscles tense like coiled springs

jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones sharpen

sets the weight down with deliberate calm, turns slowly, and locks eyes with his child

“You think you’re tough enough to disrespect your mom? Let’s test that.”

Body Language

cracks his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back

his gaze is volcanic

his voice stays eerily quiet

“Gym. Now. You wanna act hard? Be hard.”

Teaching Moment

Boxing Bootcamp

drags his kid to his home gym

forces them into gloves, pads him up, and drills combos

“Hit the pad. Harder. Harder. That’s your anger? Mom’s felt worse from your words.” 

makes them sprint between rounds

“Respect isn’t a game, it’s a discipline.”

Breakdown: mid-session, he stops, chest heaving

“You think I’m mad? I’m terrified. Because if you break her heart, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Punishment

Labor of Love: 

assigns 100 burpees (he does them too)

“Every rep is a ‘thank you’ for Mom’s sleepless nights.”

Gratitude Gauntlet

forces his kid to handwrite 50 reasons Mom “outworks them daily.”

critiques each one

“’She drives me to school’? Weak. Dig deeper. Sacrifice.”

Tech Timeout

confiscates gaming gear until they’ve detailed Mom’s daily schedule in a spreadsheet

“You’ll see her 18-hour shift. Then we’ll talk ‘fair.’”

Internal Conflict

Regret & Vulnerability

after the workout, he sits alone in the gym, head in hands

texts Yoongi:

”Hyung, did I go full drill sergeant? What if they hate me?” 

stares at a family photo on his phone, zooming in on his wife’s smile

Guilt Gifts

sneaks into his kid’s room at dawn, leaves protein pancakes and a new hoodie (their favorite anime print)

scrawls on a napkin

”Anger fades. My love for you doesn’t. But never hurt her again.”

Protective Paradox

books his wife a solo vacation, "growling" at his kid

 “You’re stuck with me. We’re rebuilding what you cracked.”

Soft Resolution

Sparring Therapy

returns to the gym days later, gloves on

this time, he lets his child hit his pads while venting

“I get it, anger’s easy. Loving’s harder. But Mom? She’s worth the reps.” 

ends with a fist bump

Tattoo Talk

shows them his “ARMY” tattoo

“This means I fight for what I love. You’ll earn yours when you learn to fight for her, not against.”

Family Night

teaches self-defense moves

positioning Mom as the “VIP to protect.”

his kid must shield her from his playful attacks

“Guard her like she’s your last round.”

_________________________________________

[ithinkhobiknows]

Yeah I’m thirsty. My work makes me breathe, so I want more. Breaking a new record is a race with myself. Raise the glass of celebration, one shot, But I’m still thirsty.

MORE // DIONYSUS || J-HOPE FOR W KOREA MARCH 2025

[c0llisiion]

DAY 4 — HOSEOK

★ npr, f!reader, dubcon, intoxicated!reader, ceo!jh, fingering— lmk if i missed any!; W/C: 625

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day4 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

[ visuals <3 (18+!) ]

You didn’t know what was going on. Your mind was elsewhere. Blown. Hazy. One thing you know is you were drinking your 4th shot of tequila, and the next thing is you feel slender, long fingers rubbing your pussy, seemingly in the oh so familiar room of your bosses. You could feel a hot breath against you, murmuring words that you weren’t able to register; all you could feel was his fingers slowly teasing your hole. 

You threw your head back as the desire started coursing through your veins.

“Yeah… just like that… relax for me…” he said softly.

You gulped, feeling yourself get hotter and wetter as he continued venturing into your pussy. “Mmm… I always wanted to do this yk..?” He said with a dark chuckle.

You turned your head towards the voice, and your eyes went wide at the sight that beheld you. Your own boss. Hoseok immediately catches the fact that you noticed him and plunges his fingers in your pussy, earning a soft whine from you.

Your back arched off his chest, and your hand lazily held onto his wrist as his ring and middle finger immediately curled into your sopping wet pussy.

You whine and whimper. “Shhh… its alright… i got you… i got you alright? Just relax for me… let me play with you for sometime, okay?” He reassured you.

You were still dazed, the alcohol still in your system, and you were completely at his mercy. You did as he said and relaxed into his touches, having no other way out of this.

Hoseok smirked and placed a kiss on your bare shoulders. “Yeah thats it baby… I'm going to take good care of you… gonna make you feel so good…” he said while placing wet kisses up your neck and down your shoulder.

His fingers drove in and out of your pussy, loud squelches and wet sounds bounced off the office room walls, curling into your sweet spot and making you squirm and moan out in pleasure. His thumb found your neglected clit before pressing down on your hard nub, all while watching your reactions to his ministrations.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? I can feel your tight little puss clenching around my fingers..” he said lowly. Your mind was hazy with pleasure and intoxication. Your hips moved involuntarily against his fingers.

Hoseok chuckled, “Eager, aren’t we?” His other hand trailed up your body and cupped your tender tits, pulling down the fabric of your top. He tugged and played with your nipples, making you whine and whimper, pussy getting wetter and wetter. “So soft… fuck you’re addicting…” He pressed harder against your clit, drawing rough circles on the sensitive bud using his thumb, making you reach climax.

Hoseok's fingers worked faster against your cunny, his pace becoming faster. Your breath got labored at his sudden increase in speed, hoseok breathing heavily behind you as well. “Fuckkkk… your pussy is so warm baby.. taking in my fingers so well..” He pulled out and slapped your cunt before drilling his fingers back in.

You cried out as the pleasure got more intense, thighs trembling and body convulsing. Hoseok slapped your tits harshly, making you groan and whimper.

He could feel your walls clench around him, signaling that you were close. He pushed his fingers further in you and curled into your walls at an inhumane pace.

Your mouth dropped to an ‘o’ shape, and you could feel the knot in your stomach seeking release. “Fuckkkkk!!!” With a loud curse, you squirted all over hoseoks carpet, the gray color now a darker grey. He smirked and pulled his fingers out, gently laying you against the sofa. 

He got up and settled himself in between your legs. “get ready for more, princess…” 

A/N: day4 is out!!! Tysm for reading everyone <333 please excuse if this was rusty it was my first time writing dubcon 😭💔

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr

If you want to be part of the taglist, comment below!! ^^

[abcthv9597]

250403 - Hoseok on the screen during the Lakers vs Warriors game

[batfiend]

forgot to post this here :) happy lunar eclipse

[iveneverbeenhere]

Sexy/Romantic things BTS men do:

Genre: FLUFF‼️‼️‼️These bitches are WHIPPED, GN! Reader for the most part

CW: None really

A/N: I really just be on here huh. I had this idea awhile back , and I’ve finally gotten around to posting it. Hope yall enjoy ✌🏾

———————————————————————————

Yoongi & V: Stares at you intently

There lies a man absolutely entranced by you. He stares so hard that it could burn your skin. He’s examined you so closely that he could tell you every detail of yourself. How your brows furrow and your lips pout whenever you can’t find the word for something. Your lips curve into a smirk whenever you say your “s” . Your upper canines peak out mid sentence whenever you rant like a mad dog; meanwhile your hands make grand, sweeping gestures that make everything you say seem like a grand adventure. When you inevitably catch them in their unsubtle act, they continue staring. After all, they would never wanna look at anything else.

Jhope, Jin(?): Buys you things

Mr. Moneybags. He has money just for you to spend. A man who will want for nothing, but will serve the world to you with a gold leaf. Luxury restaurants with names neither of you can pronounce. Shoes painted crimson on the sole with ruby rings to match. Nothing is out of your reach with him.

Namjoon, Tae, Jungkook: holds your hand and rubs his thumb on your knuckles

Comfort exists solely within this man. Soft hands with only slight calluses that hold yours in a featherlight grip. His thumb rubs over your knuckles in small circles and figure eights. He’s hardly aware that he’s doing it. He’s ingrained it within himself to be your haven.

Namjoon, Jimin: Text you things that remind him of you

Frogs. Lilies. Marigolds. Daisies. Bright red mushrooms with dots. Poems addressed to a long-ago lover. TikToks with love confessions playing in the background. Slow ballads soothe you with their lavender voice and adoring lyrics. Events for things you’re interested in. A photo of you asleep on his chest he took of you last night. A stranger’s poodle called Pepper. Knitted cardigans covered with embroidered stars and moons. The moon standing next to the sun during a pink sunset. A small Polaroid of you smiling that he found lying in the back of his studio. These things fill his camera roll until he inevitably sends them to you. He needs you to know that he always thinks of you.

Namjoon, Yoongi: Send you paragraphs and poems

“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

“Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life”

Sentences strung together by loose words and ends in the late nights when he has you on his mind. A painful yearning that existed before you that you dissipated with your being; though it comes back stronger when you leave. Love poems written by him or long dead writers to help him release his emotions. His devotion towards you needs to be known by you in simple language and consciousness. If not, he’ll ruin himself.

Namjoon, Jungkook, Tae: Always has his body facing you

A physical sign of devotion. “My attention is always on you” Head slightly tilted to better catch a glimpse at you, shoulders and back slightly slouched in a relaxed position, his feet facing towards you; his eyes half lidded as his pupils bounce from your eyes, lips, and nose. He tries his best to keep his hands steady, lest he grabs you. He could be in a room full of people and there would be no mistake as to who he’s looking at.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Tae: Asks if he can kiss you

Consent king.

“Can I kiss you?”

Simple. Straightforward. Nerve wrecking. A small question that holds so much vulnerability and weight. Displaying his need to communicate his scorching love through his flesh, but wishing death on himself before he makes you uncomfortable.

“Only if you want to.”

A sign that he’ll put any desire back if you don’t reciprocate it. You’re the only one controlling his world; he won’t forsake you.

Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Tae: Answers your texts right away

He’s never been a bad texter, but there is no wait when it comes to you. The thought of making you wait for anything has never entered his mind. He knows how doubt and anxiety can cripple the mind. He does his best to ensure you don’t have to face that with him. Texts sent a minute ago will get a reply in seconds. He’ll never keep you waiting.

Tae, Jungkook: lays his head on top of yours

His warm embrace. Long arms wrapped around you tightly as if he lets go for a moment you’ll vanish like a sweet dream. Your sweet scent mixed in with his cologne, cigarette smoke, and natural musk. Your face is in the crook of his neck; your nose and long lashes tickle his nape. He feels your hot breath warm his skin, but hates how his face feels detached. His eyes can’t bear to look at the wall ahead of him when he has you. He lays his head down into your hair, smelling the crown of your hair; he closes his eyes and snuggles further into your locs. If he could, he’d crawl into your skin and never leave its warm, suffocating embrace; however, laying his head on yours will do for now.

Yoongi, Namjoon, jhope: gives you stuff

Gift-giving couldn’t be considered his first love language; although, he can’t help but attend to you. Old books covered with dog tags, highlighted passages, and small handwritten notes. A beaded bracelet he made on live. A whale-shaped cutting board that you can’t bring yourself to use out of fear of damaging it. All things he gives to show how much he thinks of you.

[koosmicmoon]

২୫ . j hope wallpaper ! ໑ १

★ like or reblog if you use !

by koosmicmoon/ luni ><