#santa namjoon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingofbodyrolls · 15 days ago

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Perfect Strangers (m) | jhs

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: 19.7k → 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 the spoiler? [text messages] → 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

→ 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! 🫂

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

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BTS Holiday Fics

Tis the season… to reblog all of my holiday fics since I don't have any new ones this year 🙈 Thought it'd be better to put them all into one list rather than rb one by one. Happy holidays! 🎁

❄️ = fluff, 🍾 = smut

Kim Namjoon:

Christmas Confession - ❄️ 🍾, 2.9k - You’re Namjoon’s Secret Santa and you’ve got the perfect gift.

Happy Accidents - ❄️, 2.2k - Sometimes your clumsiness leads to a happy accident.

Kim Seokjin:

All I Don't Want for Christmas is You! - ❄️ 🍾, 23.7k - The holidays are here! But instead of celebrating, you’re trapped in a town called Christmas with your office nemesis, Seokjin Motherfucking Kim, and an unruly band of clients. Can you survive the trip and secure the promotion your boss has promised? Or will Jin take you down?

Min Yoongi:

I Wanna Hold Your Hand - ❄️, 1.4k - It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.

Party Vibes - 🍾, 5.8k - Yoongi’s hoping you can keep him entertained at this year’s office holiday party

Jung Hoseok:

After the Party - ❄️ 🍾, >1k - After the party, Hoseok’s not done celebrating you.

Third Time's the Charm - ❄️, 2.1k - After two close encounters with your brother’s best friend, Hoseok, you decide the third time’s the charm.

Park Jimin: see the 12 Lays of Kinkmas below

Kim Taehyung:

Next Christmas - ❄️, 1.1k - Taehyung’s trying to help you get ready for this Christmas, but you’re already thinking of the next.

Jeon Jungkook:

Mugs & Kisses - ❄️, 6k - Jungkook has something he’d like to tell you, but he can’t find the words. So he’s thought of another way.

New Year, New You - ❄️ 🍾, 1.8k - New year, new you. Except here you are, minutes after midnight, already falling back into old habits. You just can’t resist.

Multiple/OT7:

Teamwork - MYG, KTH - 🍾, 1.7k - It’s supposed to be a New Year’s Eve party, but your friends have turned it into an eligible bachelor contest. What are you supposed to do when you’re caught between two men?

12 Lays of Kinkmas - ❄️ 🍾 - 12 fics written based on individual smut prompts (each fic has its own pairings, genres, ratings, summaries & warnings)

Happy Hour - Hyung line - 🍾 (suggestive), 2.9k - You’re home for the holidays, hungover as fuck, and can’t remember what you did last night. Luckily, your little brother Jungkook and his friends Taehyung and Jimin are all too happy to remind you!

Happy Hour 2: The Hyungs Strike Back - Hyung line - 🍾 (suggestive), 4.4k - While back home for another holiday, your brother Jungkook and his friends convince you to go late night bowling with them. Surely this won’t end as badly as the last time you went out, right?

Main Masterlist

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut

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lilacmingi · 1 year ago

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MASTERLIST 🦇

ALL WORKS ARE 14+ ONLY! PLEASE DO NOT READ OR INTERACT IF YOU’RE UNDER 14. NO SPAM-LIKING PLS

☆ HONGJOONG

The Goat | Hongjoong x fem reader, Mingi x fem reader Outlaw AU

Secret Santa | Fashion designer!Hongjoong x fashion designer!fem reader

Runaway | Pirate!Hongjoong x pirate!fem reader

Polyjuice Potion | Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Ravenclaw!fem reader Hogwarts AU

A Quest for Love | Half-orc!Hongjoong x Elf!fem reader D&D/fantasy AU

Hades | Hades!Hongjoong x fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ SEONGHWA

Scrooge | Grumpy Seonghwa x Christmas enthusiast!fem reader

Nights Like These | Seonghwa x fem reader drabble

Streets of Night City | Seonghwa x fem reader, Yeosang x fem reader Outlaw AU

Captive | Pirate!Seonghwa x fem reader

Stargazing | Hufflepuff!Seonghwa x Gryffindor!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Maleficent | Maleficent!Seonghwa x Princess!fem reader Disney Villains AU

Towards The Light | Sith!Seonghwa x Jedi!fem reader Star Wars AU

☆ YUNHO

Snowman | Snowman!Yunho x fem reader

Pillaged | Pirate!Yunho x barkeep!fem reader

Outlaw Customs | Yunho x fem reader, Jongho x fem reader Outlaw AU

Home for the Holidays | Hufflepuff!Yunho x Hufflepuff!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Captain Hook | Captain Hook!Yunho x fem!reader Disney Villains AU

Second Chances | Best friend!Yunho x fem reader [NEW]

☆ YEOSANG

A Christmas Wish | Cheer elf!Yeosang x fem reader

Streets of Night City | Seonghwa x fem reader, Yeosang x fem reader Outlaw AU

My Treasure | Pirate!Yeosang x Princess!fem reader

Trading Cards & Chocolate Frogs | Ravenclaw!Yeosang x Ravenclaw!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Evil Queen | Evil Queen!Yeosang x fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ SAN

Playtime | Moondrop!San & Sundrop!Wooyoung x fem reader FNAF AU

Mall Elf | Mall employee!San x mall elf!fem reader

My Gem | Pirate!San x pirate!fem reader

The Boxing Ring | San x fem reader, Wooyoung x fem reader Outlaw AU

Quidditch Championship | Slytherin!San x Slytherin!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Cruella de Vil | Cruella!San x boutique owner!fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ MINGI

The Goat | Hongjoong x fem reader, Mingi x fem reader Outlaw AU

Elf in Training | Elf!Mingi x elf!fem reader

Beached | Pirate!Mingi x Siren!fem reader

Niffler Nabbing | Slytherin!Mingi x Hufflepuff!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Dr. Facilier | Dr. Facilier!Mingi x fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ WOOYOUNG

Playtime | Moondrop!San & Sundrop!Wooyoung x fem reader FNAF AU

The Boxing Ring | San x fem reader, Wooyoung x fem reader Outlaw AU

Rosy | Elf!Wooyoung x Elf!fem reader

The Hourglass | Pirate!Guerilla!Wooyoung x fem reader

Forbidden Forest | Slytherin!Wooyoung x Gryffindor!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Hyena | Hyena hybrid!Wooyoung x fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ JONGHO

Grinch AU | Grinch!Jongho x Martha May Whovier!fem reader

Outlaw Customs | Yunho x fem reader, Jongho x fem reader Outlaw AU

Stowaway | Pirate!Jongho x stowaway!fem reader

Opposites Attract | Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader Hogwarts AU

Gaston | Gaston!Jongho x librarian!fem reader Disney Villains AU

☆ OT8

Living with 8 Vampires | Vampire!ATEEZ x fem reader

⤷ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [this series is my baby and I want it to be perfect so I take my time writing each part. Part 2 literally took me over a year to finish oof. Hopefully the next parts don’t take that long but regardless, pls be patient with me]

When You’re On Your Period | ATEEZ x fem reader

☆ JUNGKOOK

Through Thick and Thin | Vampire!Jungkook x human!fem reader

☆ JIMIN

Change of Heart | Vampire!Jimin x human!fem reader

☆ YOONGI

Flowers In Your Hair | Yoongi x fem reader drabble

Not So Bad | Vampire!Yoongi x human!fem reader

☆ TAEHYUNG

Lost Control | Vampire!Taehyung x human!fem reader

☆ NAMJOON

Blood Bags | Vampire!Namjoon x human!fem reader

☆ HOSEOK

Different | Vampire!Hoseok x Vampire Hunter!fem reader

☆ JIN

The Invite | Vampire!Jin x human!fem reader

☆ OT7

Alice in Wonderland AU | BTS x fem reader

☆ CHAN

Houseguest | Vampire!Chan & Vampire!Hyunjin x fem reader

Cherry Chapstick | Chan x fem reader drabble

Full Moon | Werewolf!Chan x Vampire!fem reader

☆ CHANGBIN

Pool Hall | Changbin x fem reader

Irresistible | Changbin x fem reader drabble

Fuzzy Socks | Changbin x fem reader drabble

Late Night Ramen | Changbin x fem reader drabble

☆ HYUNJIN

Houseguest | Vampire!Chan & Vampire!Hyunjin x fem reader

My Muse | Hyunjin x fem reader drabble

Bound To You | Shinigami!Hyunjin x human!fem reader Death Note AU

☆ JISUNG

Stupid Cupid | Cupid!Jisung x fem reader

☆ GUNIL

Drum Lessons | Gunil x fem reader

☆ JOOYEON

Practice Room Kisses | Jooyeon x fem reader drabble

Updated: 11/13/2024 [NEW: Yunho - Second Chances]

These works are my own ideas. DO NOT steal, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way! All forms of plagiarism are PROHIBITED and will not be tolerated

#masterlist #navigation #lilacmingi #stray kids imagines #ateez imagines #xdinary heroes imagines #bts imagines #kpop imagines #lilacmingi masterlist

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jjkookiee346 · 17 days ago

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STAY A LITTLE LONGER BABE-JJK

Synopsis: people say heartbreak from relationship is difficult but heartbreak from a relationship which barely existed is much more worse

Pairing: jungkook × y/n

Genre: angst

Word count: 5107

Warning: bit of explicit language, mention of public harassment, trust issues,insecurities,longing,

Note: this my first ever fic and English is not my first language so suggestion and remarks are very much welcomed. Story had been bit inspired by personal experience of author and fic is mostly based on y/n pov. Inspired by rosé song stay a little longer.

Going to college after a very long semester break was so much more difficult. I thought waking up would be the most difficult part, but I was definitely wrong. Leaving my house in this cold weather has been much more difficult. 5:30. A.M. indeed looks so dark, and this chilly weather with fog is much, much worse.

Reaching college was nerve-wracking; not seeing any of my friends for almost 4 months is making it feel like I'm all of a sudden a fresher. And reaching my class, I finally see my friend Namjoon.

God, I missed him. We couldn't wait and just started to share how much of a difficulty it was to wake up. Y/N, I'm telling you, this is against human rights for sure! We should just go and file a case against this timing. That rant of his was able to get a giggle out of me. While he was ranting, I heard Perisha and Tina calling me to accompany them to the washroom.

Wtf? Perisha was scared for sure. You are going to make me go deaf, Tina. Tina looked a bit apologetic, but Aisha was going to say more when Tina replied, "You won't like looking at the wall." Holy cow! Finally there was a much-anticipated wall mirror there. I guess we were on a good girl list of Santa's. And there goes the college bell, shit college bell! The way we ran to our class, pretty proud of ourselves After the national anthem and college anthem, my bench partner and I couldn't wait to spill our tea. In the midst of everything, I can't help but look at his bench. A very bad habit. And the feeling of something missing that I can't let go of. Dina, my benchmate, couldn't stop herself and just kept on talking about her trip to her hometown. While I was lost in my thoughts, his name pulled me out, huh? Y/nnn, did you hear Jungkook moved abroad? All I could do was act confused and not give her much more reaction than that. I mean, of course I did; how could I not?

September 2023

God! Why do I have to give a college entrance exam? Can't they just admit all of us? was all I could think on my way to college. Nerve-wracking man... entering the college with my entrance card, all I could think about was how everyone here is with their friends. Shit! My year gap and I already feel left out. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even realize how I followed the volunteering person to my exam room; after thanking her, I just wanted to get done with this.

1 hour later

The exam was not that bad; I mean, I was smiling on my way to exit. But my luck, it looks like it's going to rain, and I don't have an umbrella. God, please don't let it rain till my Uber is here. All while waiting for Uber, I saw him for the first time, a man a few meters away from me, alone, maybe waiting for his Uber too, I guess. And an awkward staring contest... and finally my prayers were heard; my Uber is here. One last glance at the stranger, and I get on my bus. He was pretty handsome, but whatever.

2 weeks later

I still couldn't believe I got in; I thought my year gap would be an issue, but I guess my academic history did it. And I'm late to my first orientation class. Shit, is it only me who is alone? Shit, shit, and wait, that handsome stranger just passed by me? I'm not alone? And then he gets in the room, so followed by me. All my thoughts while entering the room were that he got some big foot. And one of the scary parts of the interaction, since I'm late, is who do I sit with? After scanning the room, I finally spotted someone with a vacant seat beside the handsome dude.

Hi, can I sit here? Yes, go ahead, and permission granted by a pretty stranger and maybe my friend for 4 years. And orientation starts; god, it was boring. And in the midst of it, I look at that dude in front of me; he sketches well. Wait, is he sketching when he is on the first bench? Is he not scared??? Was all I could think, sure. I'm pretty sure my eyes are looking like it's gonna pop off, but wtf? He has guts.

4 days later,

Whoo the fuck keeps an orientation program for fucking 9 days? Was all I could say to Jennifer, the prettyy stranger from that day who let me sit beside her; it turns out one of her friends also studies here, so now I'm third-wheeling them.

While complaining,onee teacher asked us to do something so nerve-wracking:, "So guys, I want you to form a circle of 8 and it better be both girls and boys in one group." And there he is,thes handsome stranger in my group. "Now everyone,I want you guys to interact, know your names, and go around asking other group mates names too. And a group that can give us alot of names will win.". I couldn't focus after that; all I could think about was interaction with strangers. My anxiety was already in peak when I decided to go a day without a mask. And now talk. I couldn't focus. Pretty handsome boy told me his name. I did too, but I couldn't remember it,and that sucked. But he has a very pretty smile.

Next day,

I'm late again! And Jennifer and her friend just went inside without me. Remind me to not wait for them again, please. Being late was one thing, and getting inside alone when everyone is inside is another thing. All the attention on me. My hand is sweating, and fuck! I did spot Jennifer and her friend, but they didn't even save a seat for me. Jennifer was mumbling sorry, but all my expression was giving fuck off! Already betrayed. I chose to sit alone, but boy, I guess luck is not on my side at all, because why the fuck is the teacher giving me a lecture? Have you not interacted with anyone or what? Why are you sitting alone? Join these two girls now. I swear to God I already have a teacher I hate. While I was creating holes in his body with my eyes, his words brought me out of my daydreaming revenge,"We want freshers to be part of decorating our department this year", and I need a group and names in the next 5 minutes. I swear to God I was not planning on doing it, but Jennifer asked me to join her, and a few persuading from girls beside me made me give my name to them.

If somebody had told me how much of a hassle it was going to be, I would not have given my name at all. But hey, I got an easy job. Painting something I love, and my pair was a girl named Perisa, and boy, she talks a lot for sure. I think we should just paint this with red. She looked at me for acceptance. And I just nodded. That's how our conversation was going. She was a talker, and I was a nodder. I can't go home and just sleep. The next day, apparently we have to sign up to create a college student profile. And I was stuck. Guess who just helped me? That handsome boy. He is helpful too. Just click on it, and boom, your profile is up. All I could do was stare; he looks a lot prettier up close. After I was done, thankfully by his help, I tried to talk to him and ask his name, but I guess he didn't hear me. But it's not like I'm going to be talking to him every now and then, so whatever... I was wrong, because tell me why the fuck is handsome boy Wait, Jungkook is beside me helping our seniors with craft. His voice sounds very good even from up close. And Jungkook laughs nicely. The second-to-last day, I got to know his name; I'm very proud of myself! And it got easier now to interact; we walked together till the bus stop. Exchanged our Insta, and now we go home and stalk. Nope, no stalking; he has nothing up on his profile at all, just his profile picture. He is a boxer? Damn!

Next day/last day of decoration

Why the fuck did I think he was pretty? He is annoying as hell! Like I didn't expect us to banter like this. He is lazytoo! !Like ew, tf, ,fno.o

And done!!! Teachers were proud of my painting. And I can't wait to go home and sleep, and I can hear Perisa saying, Yes, we are up for a stall. What stall are we?? We as who?? And I was brought back to my reality. Apparently, Jungkook wants to put up a gaming stall for the upcoming college program, and all the group members said yes to it. Fuck!

Program day

Our stall was doing good, and I think we are going to get some money, all thanks to Jungkook. Group mates are getting closer now; I now know everyone's name! Perisa, the talkative extrovert, Jennifer, Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung,jhope,and Tina! Proud of myself.

Jungkook is still as annoying but now bearable. He has a pretty smile, smells good, and is kind too, so...

A few hours later

While I was busy arranging our game, Jungkook called me over; he wanted to take a picture of my eyes, and I had to look up, and boy, he is tall. Very tall.

Taking pictures was never this fun until it was time for group pictures at the end of the day and he was beside me. Perfect height gap, but he is still annoying. That day I went home with a teddy bear, which he gave to me, which he won and gave to me after I asked. Red Teddy!

A few weeks later

After the success of our stall, we didn't have time to go and celebrate, and today was the day we did so. I wore an orange bodycon, my makeup was on point, and my bangs were pretty. I was confident till I saw him, because why the fuck am I nervous?The group decided to go karaoke, and boy, I realized he is still annoying! He is singing off-key knowingly. All I did in that karaoke room was slap his hand away from the microphone.Eating in a restaurant was very hard; we kept on looking at each other, and I kept on being reminded of my dream (wet dream about this very man). Way back home, we were back to our banter, because why the fuck was this man asking a dog to bite me? The dog was too loyal for me, as I had just fed him biscuits, but wtf.

Ended a day looking at a group photo of us, with him again beside me.

A few weeks later

College reopened, and we all got close. I was starting to see Jungkook in a different light, and before it grew, I had to do something, so I ignored him. It was going all good till he approached me. "Hey y/n everything good? And I folded very badly, and there was no going back, and I hated it.

Jungkook is everything that was opposite of my type, or that's what I thought. He smokes, does drugs, has a tag of playboy already, sort of has a gangsta group personality, and is just too much, but what can I do?

January 2024

Group decided to go to the amusement park. Something I was very excited about. Dressing up in a cute crop top with flare pants and good makeup, I was good to go! It was all exciting till I was in a ferris wheel with him; why is this hulk of a man scared of heights? Now I wish I had pulled something else while pulling a card so that I didn't have to be with him in this close space together.

Feelings are growing a lot more, and I fear he can hear my heartbeat from his seat opposite from me. I doubt I have hidden my feelings for him very well. I'm sure everyone knows by now, and that was scary. My thoughts were cut off. Can you please play the weekend song he spoke of? And there I was, wrapped around his finger, taking my phone out and playing the songs he requested, not caring how speedy this ride was, and one slip and my phone will break down. Shit, y/n, I shouldn't have come here; this ride is scary. What if I die? God help me; Jesus help me. Jungkook was turning red, and I was getting much more worried. Hey, hey, look at the side; nothing will happen. I was trying to distract his mind as much as I could; I just wished he knew I would not let anything happen to him ever. The whole ride I was holding his hand,, making sure to let him knowwhattwouldld happen until he asked me to lego.oDidid I cross boundary?rWasWas aI coulduld think of.

Once again, for the group photo, he again stood beside me.

February

My sister was getting married today, and no matter how much we fought, I was going to miss her. My friends were all here, and I was very grateful he was here. I fell hard for him today for sure. While playing a few games, we ended up beside each other, and when he noticed I was on the verge of crying, he was cracking a few jokes to lift me. God, help! I'm falling more. And there was one person paying close attention to us, my bestie Sam. I got a message with our group photo, and I realized he was once again beside me.

1 week later

Sam couldn't stop but keep on talking about how she thinks he likes me too, how she couldn't help but notice how he was looking out for me. And I wished he fell for me too. That day was too good till I saw a jerk ass jerking in a parking lot of the place I was parking my scooter at. Did that shake my head yes, and did I have to rant? Yes. I ended up ranting to him in a text; he told me how I shouldn't go to these places alone and he will go with me next time. Maybe he was being kind, but shit, I fell much more.

Next day

Jungkook was the first person to arrive in the classroom. Very shocking knowing he has this very good streak of coming to college very late or after college song.

While I was minding my business, Jungkook was looking out for me; knowing how disturbed I was, he was trying to lift my mood up a lot. While I was doodling something, he would come to me and say, "Why won't you draw a sketch of mine? Or when I couldn't focus and act out my lines for the drama we were planning to act out on this very upcoming social service college trip of ours, he was trying to make me laugh by acting my lines goofily and kept on looking at me till I cracked a smile. I fell very hard. Then I didn't hide it anymore, I guess. I was openly flirting with him. We started sharing a Netflix account. Actually, my Netflix account. I started giving him chocolates. A day before the trip, we worked together on a project that I had to submit side by side. My testosterone level is so high nowadays. Jungkook said it out of nowhere. I just looked at him weirdly and went back to work.

1 week later/day of hike

On our hiking trip, girls were mad at boys for ignoring our existence completely.The whole trip we barely talked. It felt like we were not friends. I was very disappointed at Jungkook for the way he was acting this trip. Last day before we leave this community and leave for a hike, I called Jimin to have a chat. Hey, Jimin, can we talk? Jimin was a bit baffled but joined me. Sure, is there any issue? Um, yes, actually we are a bit mad about how we felt left out and how you guys are ignoring our existence. You guys didn't even ask if we wanted to have alcohol. You guys wanna have it? Jimin was confused himself. Yes, I thought Lyam told you that; I remember telling him yesterday. And he was even more confused; no, he didn't, but you guys should have told me about it. I was even more confused because I remember telling Lyam about it; he even said he would deliver the news to the boys, but whatever. I gave him a smile; actually, I called you to say we will give money so that you can buy alcohol for us too tomorrow on our way. Jimin nodded and gave a smile back. We bid our goodbye. And I went to the girls to tell them about the arrangement.

Next day

The day when everything went downhill, on our way to hiking, the girls planned to buy drinks for themselves. They were still mad, and I was left there wondering about our arrangement with boys. Weirdly, Jungkook came to talk to us after he knew about our drink; after all,, he was the one who taught us how to mix it properly with juice. Girls decided to ignore them all the way tothe top. top. Jimincome come to utalk, talk, and when I talked t Perisa, Jennifer,Jennifer, and Tina got mad at me and said how I should just be with them if I want tbad. On ourt bad. On ourthe hotel,bJimino the hotelup.HeyJi, rememb how youy, , rememb howwanted tosaid you guys wanted to have a drink too? So I needed money for that. I was already tipsy frI hade amount of drink I had on our hikiPerisa I just told him Perisa has already bougha bittconfused. And I was areaction;used about Jungkookaction; I tho...ht Jungkook told them shurting,t since my head was hurting, I just was trying and lett away with this ca bito and let it be.You guys was a bit confused, huh? You guysa proud All I could do leave. d with a proud smile an"Hey, t leave.here.n cwentled me again, "Heso youn come here. I went tit.eWhatfused, sobring?uHowalready bought it. bring?dAndu brings blank. ch did you gmoney,ring? have I was s blato give.t Umm,e money, know exactly,no answers to give. "Umm, I don'tbrands exactly, On our I think theythe hotel,hJiminocal brandsup.Heynd, remembwhow youck to the hotelwanted toin called me up.Hey, , rememb how you said you guys wanted to have a drink too? So I needed I had for that. I was already tipsy fromPerisamount of drink I had on our hiking. So I a bittconfusedim Perisa hasreaction;bought it fJungkooknd I was a bi...confused about their rehurting, I thought Jungkook told them so... but since mand letd was hurting, I ja bit was trying to gYou guysy with this convo and let it be. Ja proudwas a bit confusleave. h? You guys did? All I "Hey, do was here.ithwent proud smile and so you leave. Jimin called it.aWhat, "Hey, /bring? Howe. I went there conbring?sAndou guyss blank. bought it. money,did yohavering? How mutodgive.u Umm,s bring? knowdexactly,s blank. I just gave money, so I brandsno answers to give. "Umm, I don't know exactly, but I think they bought 4 local brands and left.

A few hours later

When we reached the hotel, we were not tipsy at all. And all of a sudden my feelings for Jungkook became a topic. I was just chilling when Perisa started saying Y/n didn't actually have feelings for Jungkook, but after he showed his red flags, she started to fall for him. Tina and Jennifer were just laughing, then Perisa spoke again, "But Y/N I think Jungkook is just being kind to you because you are friends, so you should really tone down the things, and while I was sinking the information, a sound of a bottle dropping came. .

Reaching down it turns out one of our friend dropped his bottle of beer on his way up, till lunch time we were trying to solve the issue, after lunch we all gathered together to understand what happened so jimin told us the story

Jimin pov

After y/n told me about girls buying there own alcohol I was bit surprised so I told boys. Lyam decided it will be better if we buy it in a hotel we are planning to stay in. Reaching hotel our plan started, one of our friend mingyu told us that he will manage it, "You guys chill and just let me take a shower, I will manage the drink after that" But after 10 minutes got a message from lyam that we need to go out and get it, and on our way back to room our botel dropped and teacher caught us. Mingyu was mad but we were confused that when he revealed something shocking, "his bathroom was locked from outside and lyam shares his room. By the time I was done telling the story, girls had a same reaction as we did.

End of pov

Y/n pov

Isn't it funny how lyam is not here? Jackson one of our friend with whom we got close with on our trip spoke, mingyu was quick to cut him off, let's not play this blaming game and fix the issue. All this time jungkook kept on looking at him,but not a good look and I shrugged it off. Jackson was panicking now, guys I can't get suspended, my parents will kill me. He was very much in a verge of crying and I couldn't help but wonder where taehung was. Not only Jackson,it was jimin and taehung too. After Jackson got caught they were just entering and they were caught too. And turns out it was lyam who messaged them so it was getting bit fishy.

10:00 pm

We were having fun when jimin joined us, everything was going fine. We were actually laughing but jungkook and taehung joined us too. Jungkook was beside me but we barely talked. I was already drunk by then. Jennifer was worried about lyam so she went to check up on then and then everything turned upside down.

Jennifer entered the room, hey so what did lyam say is everything good? I asked her. Jennifer looked at me with burning eyes and brust out" HE SAID IT ALL HAPPENED BECAUSE OF YOU! WHY DID YOU REPLY THEM BADLY? I was baffled and shocked and jimin joined her but lightly, yes man,why did you reply to us so lightly, you should have gave us the proper answer. And all I could think was,so that how it's turning out? I didn't care about their opinion but jungkook's, so I turned towards him.and asked, do u also think its because of me? Huh? and he bursted on me , "what do u want me to say can't you just shut up? And that's all I needed to go and lay in my bed.

Next day

I woke up with a very bad hangover, but everything that happened yesterday sinked in. Seeing perisa sleeping beside me I stood up and went to shower and my tears mixed with the water coming from shower head.

Everything was awkward, jungkook and I couldn't look at eachother anymore. And it suck and what sucked the most was perisa opening her mouth while I was packing my bag. So it's weird between you two? It took me a while to connect the dot,and I understood she was talking about me and jungkook. I looked at and replied to her softly, yeah i mean kind of and im planning to fix the issue between us ,i gave her a tight smile,tears on a verge of falling down and she spoke again,actually he knows and i was confused so she continued yesterday we went to their room after you fell alseep and he was annoyed about you getting mad and leaving to sleep. So when jimin told him that's because you like him and he replied he knows.

This new information was a bit shocking but what was more nerve wrecking was how open those feelings of mine were that everyone knew. Then i felt this anger about everyone discussing my feelings without me. I looked at perisa and replied I will maintain my distance so don't worry.

I failed very badly, cause when he got into a fight with another group I was standing infront of him standing as a shield and protecting him. And that's when I realised how I revealed my feelings infront of everyone. That was the very first night I cried for him.

Few weeks later

Group fell apart, teacher snitched, boy got punished with library hours for 15 days and I was blamed. Me,Tina and perisa were in one group,others in different. Once a group with very strong bond turned to two groups who held petty feelings for eachother very quickly.

I tried to talk to everyone specifically to him, I still remember when he left me in front of everyone while I called him over,

Hey jungkook, can we talk? He just nodded umm actually it was about netflix do you have another account or should I purchase?, no need I already got one he replied very coldly, or then can I get a password? I was hopeful but all went down when he just left

It got worse after that, it felt like he hated me now. Like if I was alone with him,he will actually kill me and all that vengeance towards me caused I had a feelings for him?Getting ignored by him for few more weeks finally knocked some sense to and I knew what I should do to stand on my ground.

May 2024

After summer break I was done crying over him. I thought I hated him alot.. I barely walked to the same direction as him. But habits never go away, I always was helping him,he needs water knowing he won't drink it if I give it to him, I passed the water bottle till it reached him, he has no pen? Let's pass my extra pen to him. It went like that but I never talked to him even while doing this.I think he felt it too cause now it was another way around. He was trying to make a conversation. Trying to talk to me. Looking at my direction when he does something. One incident was when i went back to our classroom cause i forgot something and I saw him, funny thing man did a whole turning around to look at me. Or when i caughf him in a sick room checking upon me cause i left classroom cause i was not feeling good or catching him going to whole another room and staring at me.And it all just degraded my image more. Rumors started to fly again.

July2024

College was holding a Mr and Mrs freshers. Perisa and Tina were participants along side with jungkook. I was there with perisa and Tina during their practice. Catching jungkook looking at my direction was something normal to me now but I didn't expect him to actually come and sit beside me and talk. Hey, do u have that fan of yours? All I did was nod, can I have it? Without any intention of talking I gave it you him. I thought he will leave but he didn't, judgemental eyes of people were getting too much so I left him there.

Y/N said she wishes we don't win the title along side with jungkook. Perisa said it Tina. When tina came to me to talk about it I felt betrayed once again. I wonder what made it perisa spread rumors like that... but I couldn't confront her. Fear of being friendless was scary.

His actions became more constant towards me. Looking at me every now and then made me wonder if it was his new hobby or job. Trying to talk to me also became constant, my walks were breaking down when one evening while having lunch tina said "y/n really is someone with no self respect" and I froze. Once again no confrontation. Hatred towards him and romantic feelings I had towards jungkook had a very thin line. I used to hate him during days but cry because of longing I had for him at night. And I couldn't stand him anymore now. His actions towards me made me think maybe he is falling for me,but him getting touchy with someone new and dating her infront of me made me think delusional I gotta be again.

Till the very last day I didn't talk to him. News about him trying for abroad was spreading. I still remember praying to God when I found out it was his interview day. He nailed it. After that my only goal was to talk to him and say goodbye just one goodbye I didn't have guts to do so.

August 2024

Semester break started and that's when I got the news about his visa getting approved from namjoon. A very good friend of mine after that service camp. When he told me about it i was relieved but one day it just hit me and I was there,crying my eyes put cause I missed him. I missed him alot more each and every day. Then the day he had to fly came. I remember going towards airport to see him atkeast one last time,but left before I could do so. I wish I could talk to him one last time. Ask him if he can stay a little longer with me for awhile let all these frustrating feelings of mine to him.

It's been 2 months since he left and longing I feel for him is just getting much bad. Crying for him is now a everyday routine. I wanna message him but he is in another country now. And its not like I can tie his leg down just cause I fell too deep down to the ocean.

#jungkook ff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook series #jungkook smut #jungkook fiction #bts army #bts #bts fanfction

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jjungkookislife · 1 year ago

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BTS Christmas Masterlist

Seokjin

Christmas Cookies

Yoongi

Snow Day

Hoseok

Secret Santa

Namjoon

Last Christmas

Jimin

Ho-Ho-Home

Taehyung

Besos Navideños

Jungkook

Home for the Holidays Pt. 1

Home for the Holidays Pt. 2

Holiday Drabbles

Hoseok

Envuélveme

Namjoon

Santa Baby

Jimin

A Christmas Date

Taehyung

Just Another New Year

Jungkook

Under the Mistletoe

Tidal Wave: Unwrap Me

Little Mouse: Xmas

#bts christmas #bts christmas drabbles #bts smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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kanmom51 · 2 years ago

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13 June 2023 - BTS 10 year anniversary

I thought I'd wait a little for the day to pass and put together all their messages to us. So we got most of them, and of course, still waiting on our Jungkookie, whom I know will not forget army, that he loves so so much, and has something in stall for us as well.

But, because he's taking his time, I guess I'll post now, and when he comes to us I'll add his message as well.

The members messages to us:

Jimin

Posted 13.6.2023 at 12:10 am KST

13-13-13

Yes, I know that JM added #JK because he couldn't tag him, but Tae still got JK's name in without hashtagging him right there by his side, in his rightful place indeed (by JM's side guys, you get my drift).

j.m #jk

#bts

#army

That is the order of things as they should be.

Weverse:

Translated @btsinthemoment

JM Samsung:

RM:

IG:

Weverse:

Translated @btsinthemoment

Cute how JM and RM commented on each other's IG posts.

Tae IG story:

So, Tae posted several clips and photos.

We have the guys together, we have some JM delight, we have some Jikookery too.

First 4 clips translated:

JM starting to sing Santa Clause is coming to town and JK starting to dance to it.

Next 4 clips translated:

Here we got us some Jiminie and Jikookie fun:

jimin jumping, thumbs up y'all.

Tae calling JK to pay attention to JM's antics and JK's laughter.

The fact that I've seen JM solo accounts and Vmin accounts cut out Tae calling JK to look at JM says it all, lol.

Next 3 clips tranlsated:

Another 4 clips translated:

Man was busy. He did put quite an effort, gotta give him that.

Last clip translated:

And this too:

See how you can add JK without having to place him hashtagged right by your own name?

Choices my friends. It's all about choices.

This moment:

cr./@everJJKPJM

This day:

Jikook all matchy matchy at the Niagara falls?

Suga:

Jin:

Weverse:

Translated by @btsinthemoment

IG:

Jhope:

Weverse membership message to fans:

Seoul in Purple:

Take two live performance:

youtube

Will update of course...

#BTS 10th anniversary #BTS members message to army #Youtube

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matchagator · 2 years ago

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Matchagator Masterlist

Readers

{Summary:} You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

After a year of countless car repairs, a nasty breakup, and a change in careers, you hope a night out with your best friends will be the perfect remedy to start the new year. You weren’t expecting to end up in bed with your best friend that you’ve secretly had a crush on all this time. Fully Released One Shot!

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

Read Here

Constant late hours in the office lead to turmoil in your relationship and growing suspicions of infidelity. How does it play out when confrontations lead to a night out in a hidden speakeasy? Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Part 1 Part 2

There is nothing better than relaxing at home on Christmas morning cuddled up to the man you love, especially if that man is the embodiment of Santa himself. Fully Released One Shot!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Read Here

An annual office banquet has some of your coworkers glorified while you sit lacking the recognition you know you deserve. When your best friend convinces you to let loose, you end up falling into bed with a handsome stranger for a night of drunk sex. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Seokjin x Female Reader

Read Here

Original Characters

A stormy night leads to three strays sneaking into the back of Lily's truck to find shelter from the storm. Little did she realize they would turn into three naked men. Follow Lily and her sister as they adjust to suddenly owning three troublesome hybrids. Complete on AO3

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Choi Soobin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

AO3 Link:

Read Sheltered Here

Read Sheltered: Complete Dysfunction Here

When the kingdom of Solaris faces threats from a neighboring land, The princess must rely on alliances formed during her youth to not only save herself, but her people. What will happen when alliances shift and matters of the heart cause nothing but trouble?

{Main Pairings:} Choi Yeonjun x Original Female Character, Kang Taehyun x Original Female Character, Lee Minho (Leeknow) x Original Female Character

Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4

Follow our favorite pirate captain on his quest to rid the oceans of perilous beasts and catastrophic storms. Everything seems to be going smoothly until his crew kidnaps an unsuspecting royal with a twin brother ready to risk his life to bring her home. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Pirate Kim Hongjoong/Original Female Character, Prince Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character

Read Star-Crossed Here

Read Star-Crossed: Entropy Here

Follow the seven founding families of Lamont as they fend off creatures from disturbing their town. Will their traditions uphold when one of their own proves to be just as terrifying as the creatures they hunt? New Chapter Released Every Week.

{Main Pairings:} Wolf Hybrid Min Yoongi/Original Female Character, Wolf Hybrid Kim Namjoon/Original Female Character

Read Luna Aliud Here

Jungkook never expected a typical night out on the town would lead to his sudden death. Find out what happens when the shy boy next door suddenly becomes a bloodthirsty Vampire. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Vampire Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Kim Seokjin/Original Female Character

Read Ravenous Here

What a perfect scene of sin! Isn't the Vegas Strip the ideal place to indulge in lust and greed? The perfect playground for our group of hustlers eager to make a pretty penny off of the poor unsuspecting souls. The series is a work in progress.

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Park Jimin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

Episode 1: Sin City

Episode 2: Pink Diamond

Episode 3: Cyber Flight

Episode 4: Wine Country

Episode 5: Art Auction

Episode 6: Magic Men

Episode 7: Unwind

Episode 8: Snow Retreat

College, Fuck Boys, and Pregnancies, Oh my! Find out what happens when an accidental pregnancy causes relationships to shift amongst they chaos of college life. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Fuck Boy Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character, Kim Namjoon/Original Female Characters.

Read Picture Perfect Here

What happens when the affairs of vengeful demons and prideful angels intermix? Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Demon Jeon Jungkook/Original Angel Female Character, Angel Kim Taehyung/Original Angel Female Character, Demon Jung Hoseok/Original Demon Female Character

Read Twisted Halos Here

#bts fanfic #txt fanfic #ateez fanfic #smut #bts x reader #original character #bts one shot #one shot #masterlist #txt smut #ateez smut #bts smut

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taekookreading · 2 days ago

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*⋆🎁 Taekook Fic Recs: Christmas! 🎁⋆*

❆ Merry christmas, darling (4K) by atechamcham

When Jeongguk draws Taehyung's (aka the love of his life's) name in their school's secret santa, he vows to be the cutest goddamn secret santa this world has ever seen.

❆ I'm here, I'm home (on a white christmas eve) (5k) by perfectaenist

“Another Christmas without you, huh?” Jeongguk sees Taehyung sigh on the Skype call, his heart aching a bit with how sad he sounds. What Taehyung doesn't know is how he’s been thumbing at the plane tickets in his hand the entire call. Tickets that'll bring him right back to Taehyung.

❆ I was told there'd be cookies (18k) by mintsoda

'Taehyung, this is a very special present I have here,' Namjoon holds it up for Taehyung to see and Taehyung blinks at it, bottom lip jutted out a little, 'I would like you to deliver it for me. Could you do that for me, Taehyungie?' 'Really? Me? It's my turn finally?' he asks a little too fast, taking the box out of Namjoon's hands to observe it carefully but with a pinch of curiosity. 'What's in there?' 'It's something very important, please be careful with it. It’s for a young man called Jeon Jeongguk. It’s a special gift, something really, really precious, you see?'" When Christmas elf Taehyung accompanies Santa to the human world on his first ever present shower – Santa forgets to take Taehyung back home with him. Luckily for him, his first present delivery is for aspiring baseball player Jeon Jeongguk who, as he finds out, must have had a very peculiar Christmas wish: milk and Taehyung's favourite cookies.

❆ My seasons were always you (40k) by youremine

After yet another failed relationship, Taehyung avoids his family Christmas dinner in favor of inviting his ex-husband, Jeongguk, to spend the weekend away with their children. And maybe, for the first time in years, things start to feel that little bit right again.

❆ All is bright (22k) by localwordsmith

Christmas lights are Taehyung's area of self-proclaimed expertise. So, naturally, when his neighbour starts upstaging the light decorations in his window, he has to fight back. (or: Taehyung gets very invested in a Christmas decorations war with his neighbour and might find the cutest boy he's ever seen along the way?)

❆ Santa Baby (3k) by meanho

Jeongguk works part-time as a mascot to save up money so he could finally confess to his crush of two years, a senior named Kim Taehyung. He didn't think he could fall harder until one freezing Christmas Eve.

❆ A Million Little Reasons (10k) by alwayswithyou320

“What are you doing here?” “I’m here to attend the Christmas party you’re hosting,” Jungkook responds, then he reaches out, cupping the side of his jaw as he leans in for a kiss. “And maybe I just want to see my husband at work.” “You just want to see me in an ugly Christmas sweater.” He can feel the way Jungkook smiles into his lips. “Yes.” OR: Two whipped and in-love husbands celebrate Christmas together in all their domestic, fluffy and spicy glory.

❆ That old feeling (21k) by youremine

Jeongguk and Taehyung break up days before the Christmas get together. For the sake of their friends, they pretend it never happened.

❆ Wrapped With Love (4k) by blueandgasoline

Jungkook is a professional gift wrapper. He wraps gifts for people, and even offers to handwrite messages of his clients’ choice on glittery cards. And he truly does love his job— But when a rude lady comes into his shop on Christmas Eve and asks him to write a despicable message for this mysterious T. person, Jungkook takes it upon himself to make some minor, not-so-subtle… alterations to the original message. It’s all for the Christmas spirit, after all. Chaos ensues. (Christmas spirit-compliant chaos, of course.)

❆ We'll Be All Alone Under the Mistletoe (10k) by cblaire

In which Taehyung is definitely not Gatsby, and Jungkook is most certainly not his Daisy. No matter what Jimin says. Taehyung is not trying to "Great Gatsby" Jungkook. Really. Or, the one where Taehyung decides that the best way to woo the boy he's been pining after for years, is to throw a lavish Christmas party and string a veritable forest of mistletoe overhead in the hopes of getting a kiss from Jungkook. And Taehyung does get caught under the mistletoe. Just, with someone else. As Jungkook sees.

// Please, read the tags. //

#plays jingle bells #merry christmas #taekook #taekook fanfic rec #taekook fic #ao3 #taekook fic rec #bts #fluff #christmas #taekook fanfic

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raplinesmoon · 2 years ago

Text

Taking Chances (KSJ X F!Reader)

pairing: lawyer!Seokjin x journalist!reader

genres/aus/rating: exes to roommates to lovers, fluff, angst, pg

summary: Eight years apart and now you and Seokjin are in the same city again. When a beautiful apartment presents too good of an opportunity to pass up for both of you, you decide to take the plunge, and embark on a new relationship - this time as roommates.

warnings: talks of breakups, regret, pining, sassy bro!Namjoon, reader gets sick and Seokjin takes care of her, bed sharing (not like that!), kissing, alcohol mentions, swearing, a cute mischevious cat, angsty with a happy ending!

word count: 5.8k

a/n: This gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta and is for @jinsquishes. Surprise! I’m your Bangtan Secret Santa! Nixie, I’m so sorry for being such a snowflake (get it?) and sending this too you so late djkskskdks. I know you like roommate fics, so I put a little twist on it! It was lovely chatting with you and I hope you like it and feel all the warm fuzzies! This was inspired by a book I recently read called House Rules by Ruby Lang and the premise was too cute to pass up! Also, the dress OC wears is inspired by this one, which is currently hanging in my closet and I’m looking for a holiday party to wear it to lmao

Seokjin had finally had enough. His ears felt like they were about to bust open any second now, not that it meant anything to his abhorrent neighbours. The drilling noises continued, the young, newlywed couple completely oblivious to the fact that it was nearing 12am and now might not have been the best time to put together their new Ikea furniture.

He could maybe have forgiven them if it was their first week in the next-door apartment, the two of them lost in scramble of moving boxes and building a desk, chair, or whatever they decided they were missing. But it’d been like this for six months. Six months that had shattered his peace in the apartment that Jin had previously lived in for eight years, both with you, and by himself. In all that time, he’d never considered leaving. Until now.

It’d been a stupid decision, one made on a whim when he decided to go tour the old, weathered brownstone that had just popped up on the market in his neighbourhood. He’d been sick of the noise, and the idea of a bright, new apartment seemed like a dream, one where hopefully there weren’t any annoying neighbours. The walls were full of exposed brick, the sunlight filtered in even on a bright, snowy day, and it was big. Bigger than he needed as a single, unmarried, thirty something to be honest, but more space never hurt.

But then he heard the broker, Jimin, usher someone new in to the viewing, and just as quickly as his dream sprung up, it was shattered. Because he’d only caught the faintest glimpse of the threadbare brown coat you’d loved so much, and the tell-tale fringe of your scarf that he’d gifted you for your very first anniversary, but Jin knew it was you.

His ex-fiancée. Or was that even the right term when it’d been eight years since you broke up? When Seokjin had spent almost nearly as much time apart from you as he had with you?

He ducks into one of the bedrooms, out of Jimin’s sight, and sucks in a sharp breath, blinking and shaking his head. Who was he kidding? That coat could belong to anyone, anyone could own that scarf. Not just the former love of his life who as far as he knew, had faded into obscurity after dropping out of law school. Who probably moved halfway across the world just to avoid the sight of him. The person who he’d once shared an entire life with, and now they had nothing left in common.

Seokjin shivers as he stares outside the window, watching the snow fall down, a colourless shroud, and he grits his teeth. The journey home would not be fun.

Hearing shuffling behind him, he turns, thinking it’s Jimin coming to ask him what he thinks, but he’s met with a small gasp.

“Jin,” you whisper softly. “I knew it was you.”

And before Seokjin can react, you’re pulling him into you, tucking your head into his shoulder, and he’s breathing in your faint soapy smell, reminded of the shampoo you used to love so much. The wool of your scarf doesn’t feel as scratchy as he remembers, and he’s comforted by its familiar presence, by your familiar presence in his arms. It’s been too long.

“You moved back,” he mutters into your hair, and immediately you freeze, pulling back, eyes on the floor.

“I found a new job,” you tell him, and as much as Seokjin wants to press, he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel like he has a right to ask, to know about your life not that you’re not together anymore. So instead, he remains silent, taking you in.

You hadn’t changed much. You looked older, maybe a few more lines on your face, but your eyes were still the same. That smile was still the same, and he knew he had to be careful around it.

“How are we doing in here, oh—”

Jimin takes that moment to walk in, his eyes glinting with questions as he takes in the two of you, so close yet standing apart, and he raises an eyebrow.

“We knew each other,” Seokjin steps in, immediately wanting to diffuse the awkward tension. “She’s my ex-w–”

You look at him, eyes glassy and in shock. He’d been about to say wife. Because you had been, almost. There had only been a few months to the wedding when you’d decided to go, sending Seokjin off over a cup of coffee on a chilly autumn day in the park.

“Well, it sounds like you have a lot to think about,” Jimin chuckles before retreating, and Seokjin knows he’s not just talking about the apartment.

It’s only natural for him to chase you down after you’ve both left, following you into a nearby cafe.

Turning on your heel, you look at the sight of your ex, still as handsome as ever with his wool coat and snow in his hair, and you let out a big sigh. You weren’t going to hate him. You didn’t hate him.

“What do you want?” you blurt out, and Seokjin recoils briefly, in shock at your question before straightening.

“An espresso,” he responds, and you grin.

“You used to be more of a latte man, what happened?” you ask.

“I don’t know, I guess I just got a lot more bitter,” he grunts, and you let out another heavy sigh.

“I know you have questions Jin, and I want to answer them, I really do, but can we just sit here for a bit? And drink our coffee first?”

And so you do, the two of you sipping on the hot drinks, taking each other in for the first time in many years. You know Seokjin isn’t actually upset with you, that it was more the shock speaking for him. He’d barely raised his voice at you when you left, nodding along quietly and watching you go without a word. You made no promises to him, and he didn’t make any to you.

You tried your hardest to keep up with him back then, but law school had sucked the life out of you. While Seokjin had been everyone’s favourite, the star pupil and class president, you were just… there, right next to him. It had been your own guilt and unhappiness that had driven you away, never anything to do with him. But Seokjin was stubborn, persistent that you could stay, that things would work out on their own.

“There was no other option,” you tell him quietly, and he nods over the cup of coffee, looking out the window, and you so desperately want him to look at you instead.

“Don’t you get it?” you want to scream at him, but keep your voice level. “I had to drop out, I had to go find my own way, to travel, to figure out what really made me happy?”

“And are you?” Seokjin interrupts. “Happy, I mean?”

You pause, not knowing how to answer him.

“What about you?” you fire back. “You’ve lived in the apartment for years, even before me. What makes you want to move now?”

“I’ve stayed there for too long. It used to feel like home… now it just feels like a rut. One that I can’t get out of, no matter how hard I try. But you wouldn’t understand, would you? You never wanted to stay.”

You square your shoulders, sitting up straight. You couldn’t keep up this conversation. You hadn’t been able to have it eight years ago, and it was far too late for it now. Instead, you needed a place to live, to turn over a new leaf, and it seemed like Seokjin did too. Which brought you to why the two of you were even here together in the first place.

“I want that apartment, Seokjin. I know you want it too, I saw it in your eyes. We both need this. But I can’t afford it. Not on my own.”

“What are you asking?” Seokjin says, his eyes turning dark.

“Kim Seokjin, I’m asking you to be my roommate.”

This was insane, Seokjin thinks as he packs up the last of his kitchen supplies, surrounded by boxes. This has to be the most insane thing he’d ever done.

He’d called Namjoon over a dozen times the past week since he’d met you in the coffee shop, ranting to his brother about the odd proposal you’d given him.

“Is she still the same?” Namjoon echoed over the phone, disdain lacing his voice. He hadn’t been the biggest fan of you leaving his older brother broken hearted.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is what I’m supposed to do about this!” Seokjin spits into the line, feeling his face grow hot.

“Easy, just say no,” Namjoon responds. “Exes are bad news, hyung. It’s not worth getting caught up with any of them, no matter how good the relationship used to be.”

Seokjin pauses for a second. Namjoon had made it sound so easy. Just saying no. But what complicated things was the fact that it was you he was saying no to.

Seokjin knew you left on your own accord. He knew you needed to find a sense of purpose, one that didn’t revolve around just him and law school, and getting married. But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

When he’d seen you again, he’d imagined, for a brief moment, the years that had been lost between you. The ones you could have spent living together, waking up to each other every day. Burning toast on Sunday morning, putting up Christmas trees every winter, dancing as the snow fell outside. And here you were, offering him a chance to maybe, just maybe get those lost years back. Or whatever shreds of them he could recover.

“You can’t say no, can you?” Namjoon says over the phone, defeat in his voice, and Seokjin realizes he’s been silent for too long.

“I didn’t fight for her when I should have, Namjoon-ah, I can’t miss that opportunity again.”

The words come back to him as he sits in the kitchen alone. Looking around, he realizes how few boxes he actually had. He thought most of his life had been in this apartment, but the more he thought about it, he realized he was never really attached to the things here. It was more the memories, or lack of them that he had, living here by himself, trying too hard to get over you.

He’d never brought a date home here. Namjoon refused to visit, and Seokjin had just stopped asking, fitting seamlessly into the fabric of the lives of those around him, while never pausing to think about his own.

A knock at the door breaks him out of his thoughts, and he opens it to find the movers. As he watches them lift up the things, he’s surprised by how light he feels. Maybe letting go wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“You have a big, strong, handsome ex fiancé moving in with you, and you still choose to bring up your own things why?” Nixie, your best friend, groans as she carries up another box, plopping it into your room.

You’d chosen the smaller of the two, while Seokjin got the bigger one, knowing he put more money towards the rent from his job.

“Because he’s not my anything, he’s my roommate, and we don’t owe each other anything,” you tell her.

“Not to burst your bubble ___, but most people don’t exactly end up shacking up with their former fiancé and expect to be just roommates.”

“Well we are,” you brush her off, and she turns to start unloading stuff into the closet. “We have completely different lifestyles. He works at an office, I work from cafes and libraries or at home. He works during the day, I’m most productive at night. We’ll barely run into each other.”

And you hadn’t, so far. Seokjin had moved in quietly when you weren’t there, his stuff magically appearing in the living room one day. You hadn’t seen him around since, but you figured he was probably living with his brother until your contract officially started.

The two of you had decided to give it six weeks, right until the New Year. Six weeks of living together, seeing if you could tolerate each other. If it didn’t work out, Seokjin had graciously agreed to move out, and help you find a new roommate.

It sounded so foolproof when you thought of it in your head.

“Okay, I trust that you know what you’re doing,” Nixie says. “After all, we’re not the same as we were eight years ago.”

The two of you chat for a little longer before she has to leave to her own place, and you’re left on your own. A few hours pass, and you’re finally done unpacking most of your room when you hear the jangling of keys, and the door creak open.

The sound of boots echoes in the hallway, and you know it’s Seokjin. You hide underneath the covers on your mattress, not wanting him to know you’re awake.

He shuffles around in the kitchen for a little bit, and then it falls silent. Thinking the coast is clear, you tiptoe outside your room, searching for a drink of water, when you see him slumped on the living room floor, his head in his hands.

Your face softens at his serious figure, and you walk over to him, plopping down next to him. He shifts slightly, his eyes widening in surprise at your presence, and you look down to see that you’d never changed out of your bunny printed pyjama shorts.

Clearing your throat, you speak softly, afraid to put him even more on edge.

“I realize that this was maybe unfair of me to ask you for, but you were the only person I could think of that wouldn’t try to accidentally hit on me and then poach the lease right out of my hands.”

Seokjin chuckles at that, turning to look at you.

“You don’t have to worry about me hitting on you, I’m too old for that.”

“We’re the same age.”

“Is this really a good idea, ___? Us?” He asks softly.

You freeze. There was no “us” between the two of you. There hadn’t been for a long time. But maybe there could be. A new version of normal, one where you and Seokjin lived happily together yet apart, content with your lives.

“I don’t know,” you tell him. “All I know is that being here, in this space, I feel happy for the first time in a long time. Like my life is finally falling into place. And I don’t want that feeling to stop, even after the six weeks are over.”

Seokjin freezes next to you, and he knows you’re not talking about him, but he imagines you could be.

“It’s going to take some time for me to adjust to this,” he says.

“Me too. We’ll try our best. That’s all we can do, right?”

I tried my best, the words ring in Seokjin’s ears. The same ones you told him when you said you were leaving.

“Right.”

As December settles in, Seokjin thinks he could get used to the idea of living here. The home is so inviting, the crown bricks covered in snow making him think of Santa’s house in all those Christmas movies he’d watched as a kid. Every evening when he’d get inside after work, he would smell coffee, knowing you’d probably just left to the library to continue your work.

It was quiet, and he was content. Until you stopped him one day in the kitchen, up before he was, shoving a plate full of cheese and crackers towards him.

“I want to get a cat.”

“You don’t have to ask me to get a cat,” he grumbled. “We’re adults.”

“I know, but you’re my roommate and it’s common courtesy. I saw one I’d like to adopt near the end of this week. He’s older, and they said he was super quiet. I’ll keep the litter box in my room.”

And that was how Seokjin also became roommates with Cheese. As much as he tried to ignore the little rascal, Cheese would always curl up next to him at the most random times, purring when Seokjin gave him scratches on the head.

He adjusted to you and Cheese better than he thought. The two of you were friendly, pausing to chat briefly at random points when you’d bump into each other during the day, oftentimes when one of you was leaving and the other was returning.

Seokjin even shared his wine collection with you, telling you that you could help yourself to any of the expensive bottles. Maybe it was the giving holiday spirit. Maybe it was just you making him soft.

You’d started waking up earlier, leaving him a little pile of cut up fruit on the counter every morning, the oranges peeled just the way he liked them, which only you’d ever been able to do.

But it never went beyond that. Seokjin still didn’t know who you were, what you did. And you kept your distance. Sometimes when he’d see you coming back from a trip outside, he resisted the urge to smooth down your frazzled hair after you’d taken your hat and scarf off, but he stopped himself. He also stopped himself from staring for too long when you’d wear those forsaken bunny printed pyjama shorts, trying not to focus on how good your butt looked.

It was a silly little crush on his roommate, he brushed it off in his mind. He’d get over it.

It was the week before Christmas, and you were in hustle mode. Your editor wanted you to get the latest piece to him in time for Christmas Day, so you’d been holed up in the library, writing away on your laptop and downing copious amounts of cofffee.

You’d managed to get through about four pages of writing before the pain in your stomach set in. Grimacing, you brace an arm around your middle, hobbling to the bathroom before the cramps take over, and you stumble, crashing to the floor. You dial Nixie, but it’s late and she doesn’t pick up. Scrolling through your phone, you resign yourself to putting in Seokjin’s number, relieved when he picks up on the first ring even though he should be at work.

“Can you come and get me please?”

Seokjin’s face was as pale as a ghost when he found you lying on the library bathroom’s floor, passed out. You stir as reaches around you, supporting you with one arm as the two of you rise.

“I’m so sorry,” you croak out. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Please stop apologizing,” he says softly. “It’s not your fault.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about you getting sick or something else. His warm arms come around you as he walks the two of you to his car, placing you gently in the passenger seat and turning on the heating so you wouldn’t freeze. The entire ride, his hand remains on your thigh, the burn of his hand on the fabric of your jeans almost as prominent as the nauseating sensations you were experiencing in your stomach. He doesn’t ask, just glances over occasionally when the car stops to see your eyes flutter shut, and the rest of the ride is quiet.

You wake up enough for him to drag you up the stairs, before turning and closing yourself into the bathroom, sobbing under the heat of the shower. Everything ached. From the cramps to your own heart, it all hurt. And the only thing that made it better was Seokjin. But you’d lost him, and now you couldn’t go back to the way things were before. You begin to question why you’d even wanted him to live with you in the first place, knowing that you’d inevitably desire his comforting touch again. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved, and despite being happy, you hadn’t felt that way in so long.

When you slip out of the shower in fresh pyjamas, he’s there, sitting on your bed. You don’t get angry with him for letting himself into your room, instead sitting next to him on the bed. He doesn’t ask questions, just drawing your hand into his own.

“You know if you ever need anything, I’m here,” he says into the darkness.

“Can you stay with me?” you ask, pulling him into you until his chest is resting against your back, feeling the rough scratch of his crisp white dress shirt, and in seconds, you’re asleep.

You sleep better than you’ve slept the entire time you’ve been in the apartment. But it makes no difference when you wake up alone, Cheese eyeing you curiously. Seokjin was gone.

“I can’t do this,” Seokjin rubs in between his eyebrows, staring at Namjoon with bloodshot eyes over his brunch. He’d left early, before you could even wake up, his heart turning over and over in his chest at the sight of you seeming so small, so vulnerable, doubled over in pain. He knew it was probably nothing to be worried about, but when it came to you, Seokjin couldn’t help but worry.

“You still love her,” Namjoon says, and he doesn’t sound disappointed. His voice is even, flat with acceptance.

“Is it crazy of me to think that it just wasn’t the right time? That we both needed to grow up and figure out our lives? I mean, we were barely about to graduate. Of course we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. No one does at that age.”

“But she left,” Namjoon interjects, his eyes full of concern. “She left, and maybe she did change, hyung. Maybe she’s better for it. But you, you just let her hurt you. You stayed the same, for so many years, going to work every day, making money, never letting anyone else in. And now, all of a sudden, she’s back, and you’re acting all different, being friends with her. My question is why.”

Seokjin wonders the same thing, why he’s able to be so attached to you after so many years apart.. You needed time, you needed space, you needed to feel like your own person. And Seokjin could accept all that. But he always thought he’d done something to drive you away. And then he remembers it’s because never once, in the four hour long conversation where the two of you had said goodbye, had you said it was because you didn’t love him. In fact, you’d said it three times exactly - once at the very beginning, one time in the middle, and right at the end.

He straightens up, and a warm, fizzy feeling runs through his veins. The last thing you had said was “I love you.” And now here you were, eight years later, by his side again. Was it crazy to think it was because you still loved him too?

The dress was green, with glittering sequins in the shape of stars. It was breathtaking. And now it was lying on your bed.

“Come with me to my work holiday party?” Seokjin had asked earlier in the week, and you don’t know what had possessed you to say yes. You’d softened towards him considerably ever since he’d taken care of you while you were sick, not saying anything when he slipped into your bed in the middle of the night, but not pushing him away either.

You still were afraid to talk about it. Afraid that he wouldn’t forgive you for running away, for putting yourself over the relationship. Even though you knew you weren’t selfish, the mere though of Seokjin ever seeing you as such pained you.

And now here you were, his date to a swanky holiday party. When you’d asked why, he’d laughed it off, saying last minute dates were a hot commodity, and he didn’t want to have to resort to Tinder. A pang of jealousy bubbled up in your chest at the thought of Seokjin with a younger, prettier girl on his arm, and you’d sulkily made up your mind that going with him was best. However, putting on the stunning dress and having the experience of Seokjin nearly stumbling while lacing his dress shoes made you feel a tiny bit better.

You watch the people around you swarm and flock to each other, exchanging hugs and holiday wishes, and painfully miss Seokjin’s presence next to yours, keeping your beating heart calm. As if he sensed your discomfort, he’s there in the next minute, holding out a drink for you. You accept, hoping the alcohol will calm your nerves.

You feel out of place here. This was Seokjin’s wheelhouse, Seokjin’s territory. He’d always been the people pleaser, while you preferred to hang back.

An older couple comes up to you, and Seokjin straightens up, putting his drink down and greeting the man with a handshake.

“This is my boss, Mr. Nam,” he says, faltering when he turns to introduce you. “And this is ___, she’s my, uh—, we’re, she’s my—”

“Roommate,” you interject quickly.

“Ahhhh so you’re together then?” The woman you assume is Mrs. Nam claps her hands together in delight.

“No no no!” Seokjin tries to manage the messy misunderstanding. “We live together. As in just one together. Together-ish.”

A smile slips onto your lips when you see his ears redden in frustration, and you give his hand a squeeze. Mr. and Mrs. Nam catch sight of your clasped hands and smilen again, before saying how wonderful it was to meet you and excusing themselves to get some food.

“No need to be nervous,” you tell Seokjin after they’ve left. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah, it’s just you,” Seokjin echoes, and there’s a far away look in his eyes, one you can’t place. “Should we go out to the balcony?”

He leads you along, his hand tucked into the curve of your waist, and you bump into more people, Seokjin recovering and introducing you without the roommate title. It all feels surreal, like a dream you never dared yourself to have, and you reflect on how this could have been the life you had together, if things hadn’t come apart.

When you’re outside, you begin to shiver, and Seokjin eases his coat off, and you dodge it, telling him you’re fine, the two of you dancing awkwardly around each other. After a few moments, you begrudgingly accept the coat, sinking into its warmth and breathing in Seokjin’s clean smell.

“You’ve changed a lot, ___,” he says. “You seem calmer. Happier. You really like writing, don’t you?”

You want to act shocked that he finally figured out what your mystery job was, but you knew he would. Seokjin knew you too well, and there was a point where he’d known you better than you’d know yourself.

“What about you?” you respond. “Big hotshot lawyer, finally fulfilling all those ambitions you had for yourself–”

“For us,” he cuts you off. “I had them for us.”

“And I ruined them, right? By leaving,” you voice shrinks, and you feel tears perk up at the back of your throat.

“Maybe it was good for me,” he says, looking out onto the city. “Maybe I had to learn how to be myself without you too.”

“Not everything has to be a lesson, Jin,” you tell him. “Not everything has to mean something grand and philosophical. You’re allowed to miss it. To miss us. I miss it too. Sometimes I wake up in my bed, with Cheese, and it doesn’t even feel real that you’re here with me again, right down the hall. How we’re both the same, yet different in so many ways. And it scares me because even though living with you again is like nothing I could have expected, I still love you. More than I should.”

You pause on the last words, your breath coming out in frozen puffs, and watch Seokjin’s eyes flicker with longing. He pauses, before drawing you into him, his finger tips entwining with yours.

“It’s not like it was before because it’s better,” he whispers against your lips, before he closes the distance in between you two.

Sparks explode across your skin when he kisses you, your hands swinging around his neck, and you feel like a teenager in love again, discovering how good it felt to be held for the first time. You sway from the wash of emotions that come over you, and Seokjin’s hands are there, steadying you as you break apart, rubbing his cheek against yours and pressing tiny kisses all the way from your temple to your hair.

“___, there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers into your hair, when suddenly, your quiet moment of peace is interrupted by a loud yell. The two of you break apart, cheeks flaming with heat, and you look away, not wanting to seem suspicious after basically lying to everyone the whole evening.

“Seokjin!! Congratulations on the promotion,” one of his coworkers you’d met earlier, Hoseok, runs up to him. “Singapore won’t be ready for you after the New Year hits!”

More and more people join the swarm, clapping Seokjin on the back, and his eyes look to you in panic.

“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he mouths to you, but you barely acknowledge it, your eyes filling up with tears.

He never had any plans to stay on as your roommate. He’d wanted to leave the entire time.

You rush away from the crowd, Seokjin’s coat still wrapped around you as you cry quietly. Just when you thought that things could finally be okay, that you two could move on from the past together, it had to rear its ugly head once more, reminding you that you didn’t belong together for a reason.

A week passed, and Christmas with it. Seokjin had left quietly to spend the holiday with his own family, and your heart ached with hurt because he hadn’t spoken to you since the night of the party. Or more like you hadn’t spoken to him, holing yourself up in your room and cuddling with Cheese underneath the blankets.

Across from you, the present he’d left outside your door lay unwrapped, and you had half a mind to just throw it out the window and be done with him, once and for all.

Sighing, you open up your laptop, deciding that you should put in an application for a new roommate. You type out a general profile of what you’re looking for, before shutting the computer with a sigh and deciding you weren’t mentally ready to handle the thought of moving on yet. Maybe it’d be easier once Seokjin finally left.

Rising from your bed, you make your way to the kitchen, opening to fridge to find Cheese’s cat food. Grabbing a spoon to scoop it out, you pause when you realize the bowl is full, and that Cheese hadn’t touched anything yet. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Cheese all day, sleeping for the better part of the day.

The door was locked, so he had to be here somewhere. You walk around everywhere, even peeking into Seokjin’s room and calling his name, but to no avail. Standing in the hallway, you feel a cold breeze and gasp. The window had been open. What if Cheese had escaped?

Panicking, you throw on your coat, tears burning in your eyes as you slip on your scarf and shoes. You’d already lost Seokjin, you couldn’t lose the one other person who was holding you together right now.

You stumble out into the night, shivering when you realiize that there’s a thick blanket of snow outside, deep enough to cover a tiny cat. You slip and slide down the steps, calling out Cheese’s name and running up and down the city streets, the snow coming down heavier.

After half an hour, you decide to give up, voice hoarse from screaming. You make up your mind to put up a missing pet flyer for Cheese immediately. Now that was a task you could focus on.

Trudging up back your street, you come to a pause outside your building, gasping in shock when you see that the front steps’ light is on, and Seokjin is sitting there, a shivering Cheese in his hands.

You immediately run up to him, grabbing Cheese and clutching him to your chest while tears run down your face.

“I found him wandering outside,” Seokjin says, reminding you that he’s still there, and you take a step back from him.

“Thanks for finding him,” you tell him. “I mean it.”

And you turn, cuddling Cheese in your arms, ready to escape to your bedroom once more, when Seokjin’s arm shoots out, grabbing onto yours and spinning you around.

“Please can we talk?” his eyes are desparate as they bore into yours.

“We have nothing to talk about,” you tell him coolly. “I’ve already made arrangements to find another roommate.”

“I rejected the promotion,” he says hastily, and you freeze. “It shouldn’t have taken me this long. I accepted it before we moved in together, and I just thought I could put it off until…”

“Until what? You broke my heart just as bad as I broke yours?” you hiss, feeling guilty at the way his face falls.

“Until I realized how much I don’t want to move out.”

He reaches out, scratching Cheese in between his ears, and the image is so domestic it makes your heart hurt.

“What if we aren’t meant to be together?” you tell him meekly. “What if there was a reason we didn’t work out the first time? What makes now any different?”

“It’s different because even after all this time, I still want to stay here,” Seokjin says, cupping your cold cheeks in his palms. “I still want to be here with you, even after all this time.”

“Are you saying this as my roomate?” you try to lighten the mood, but your heart is doing backflips in your chest.

“I’m saying this as someone who loves you, and who hopes that you believe in taking chances,” he ghosts his thumb over your cheek.

“I took a chance on you, right?” you whisper back, smiling at his gentle touch. “And look where that ended up.”

“Where did it end up?” he teases you in his low voice, and you shiver.

“With you kissing me on New Year’s Eve,” you tell him, and Seokjin pulls you towards him, his fingers running through your hair and tugging at your scarf before he’s kissing you again.

You remain like that for an infinite number of moments, savoring each other, accepting each other after so long, that you don’t hear the fireworks go off, Cheese shifting uncomfortably in your arms.

“Let’s head inside,” Seokjin presses a kiss to your cheek. “The little guy must be getting cold.”

You step aside, beckoning Seokjin in before you, and he grabs your arm with a grin.

“Lead the way, roomie.”

A/N pt. 2: I hope you enjoyed! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

189 notes · View notes

jenrecs · 2 years ago

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⊹ hello loves! it’s a new month, and a new reading list! below are all my favorite reads from December 2022. some of these do contain mature content, so minors dni.

⊹ check out these awesome fics and give the authors some love by reblogging and/or leaving feedback for them! (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

recs navigation | monthly reading lists

⌜ OT7 ⌟

✦ how bts would miss you by @indgio

↳ headcanon, fluff

✦ new year’s eve kisses by @taetaespeaches

↳ headcanon, fluff

⌜ SEOKJIN ⌟

✦ xoxo by @muniimyg

↳ best friends to lovers, fluff

the one where oc wins.

✦ flower boy by @yslkook

↳ established relationship, smut

you’re seokjin’s favorite flower.

✦ eat jin! by @kimnjss

↳ established relationship, smut

jin comes home after a long day of entertaining, paired with some teasing from you… and he knows exactly how he wants to spend the rest of his night.

✦ guided by @lavienjin

↳ barista au, camboy au, smut

it turns out that the barista you’ve had a crush on has a second job behind the lens of a camera.

✦ the one where jin is drunk off his face and you get friend-zoned by @indgio

↳ established relationship, idol au, fluff

you’ve been dating kim seokjin for 2 and a half years now, and it takes him all of a few drinks to forget that.

✦ driving home for christmas by @army-author

↳ fluff

jin’s stuck in traffic, and you’re stuck waiting.

✦ all these books (but i’m only checking you out) by @eleventoes

↳ college au, fluff

⌜ YOONGI ⌟

✦ deja vu by @yoongiphoria

↳ exes au, angst

even though you’re gone, he still sees you everywhere.

✦ all that holly, jolly sh*t by @daechwitatamic

↳ exes to lovers, christmas au, fluff, angst, smut

you haven’t seen or heard from yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. when a christmas eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. and if they’re not… where does that leave you?

⌜ NAMJOON ⌟

✦ details in the fabric by @jinned

↳ angst

after your recent death, namjoon takes comfort in your old favorite sweater.

✦ hey, it’s me by @yoongiphoria

↳ exes au, angst

✦ first date by @forpunishers

↳ friends to lovers, fluff

⌜ JIMIN ⌟

✦ the great debate by @gukyi

↳ friends to lovers, fluff, comedy

when a best friend debate turns into something more.

✦ pork belly by @yoongiphoria

↳ fluff, angst

a conversation with your best friend from college, over drinks and pork belly.

✦ shelter, home by @yoongiphoria

↳ established relationship, idol au, fluff, angst

even at his lowest moments, jimin is your home, and you’re his shelter.

✦ together, we’re screwed by @yeojaa

↳ idol au, fluff

⌜ TAEHYUNG ⌟

✦ fireworks by @indgio

↳ best friends to lovers, college au, fluff

“this reminded me of you.”

⌜ JUNGKOOK ⌟

✦ just wanna feel you by @strawbkoo

↳ established relationship, smut

you haven’t seen jeongguk for a while due to your conflicting schedules. you finally have free time and when he comes to pick you up, you find yourselves releasing all that pent-up tension.

✦ wounded by @artaefact

↳ agent au, angst

when all he can think about is you.

✦ all i want for cockmas by @junqkook

↳ santa au, fluff, smut, crack

you tell santa exactly what you want for christmas.

✦ ruin you by @bts-bay-bee

↳ best friends to lovers, smut

best friend!jk teaches you the basics of sex, and essentially ruins you for anyone else.

✦ brain dead by @bts-bay-bee

↳ established relationship, smut

bf!jungkook somehow fucks, not only you, but himself brain dead.

✦ after the game by @bts-bay-bee

↳ established relationship, smut

✦ in the studio by @bts-bay-bee

↳ established relationship, idol au, smut

bf!jungkook gets a little too high-strung during a random make out session.

✦ warming up by @mimikookie

↳ friends to lovers, smut

despite the falling snow, you and jungkook decide to soak in the hot tub outside and enjoy each other’s company.

✦ film me by @7deadlysinsfics

↳ established relationship, smut

✦ ‘call me when you get home’ by @mercurygguk

↳ established relationship, fluff

#reading lists #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader

227 notes · View notes

vminhoes · 1 year ago

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My fics Masterlist

Vmin:

Thinking of You

rated: E

historical/war au

based off "Thinking of You" mv

husbands!vmin

smut, fluff, angst

So just hold on (like you won't ever let go)

rated: E

gang au

drug lord taehyung, trophy husband jimin

smut, fluff, angst

I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus

rated: G

married au

husbands!vmin

fluff

Nerd in the streets but a Freak in the sheets

rated: E

college au

law student/tutor jimin, athlete taehyung

pure smut

You're just a snitch. (I'm gonna make you my bitch)

rated: E

college au

jimin is a snitch, taehyung is over it

hate sex / revenge sex

smut, fluff, angst

My Alien

rated: E

alien invasion au

human jimin, alien taehyung

enemies to lovers

slow burn

soulmates

smut, fluff, angst

Taegi fics:

So cute

rated: E

college au

boyfriends!taegi

smut, fluff

Why don't you say "I love you" back?

rated: G

canon compliant

yoongi's vlive - "i won't leave until you say that word"

fluff

And they were roommates!

rated: E

roommates au

student taehyung, businessman yoongi

roommates with benefits

smut, fluff, angst

You scratch my back, I'll boy out yours

rated: E

coffee shop au

frat boy/barista taehyung, rapper yoongi

blackmail

smut, fluff, angst

Spoils of War

rated: E

royal/hybrid au

human yoongi, hybrid/alpha taehyung

enemies to lovers

smut, fluff, angst

Flower boy

rated: E

mafia au

drug lord yoongi, florist taehyung

mutual pining

smut, fluff, angst

There was only one bed

rated: E

college/university au

fake dating

only one bed trope

smut, fluff, pinch of angst

The best part of me was always you

rated: E

modern au

professor yoongi, artist taehyung

exes to lovers

smut, fluff, angst

I'll be gentle

rated: E

college/university au

college student taehyung, law student yoongi

first time / loss of virginity

smut and fluff

Broken Hearts Club

rated: explicit

alternate universe

teacher yoongi, mechanic/race car driver tae

friends with benefits

strangers to lovers

smut and fluff

Hold me close, I'll keep you warm

rated: explicit

omegaverse

cat hybrid yoongi, wolf hybrid tae

huddling for warmth

enemies to lovers

smut and fluff

Stop copying me!

rated: explicit

model taehyung, gamer yoongi

stubborn/petty taegi

enemies to friends with benefits to lovers

crack, smut, fluff

Dinner and a show

rated: explicit

college/university au, omegaverese

alpha taehyung, omega yoongi

tae helps yoongi through his heat

pining, mutual crushes, soft taegi

smut and fluff

Barbie Dreams

rated: explicit

sugar daddy au

sugar daddy taehyung, sugar baby yoongi

sugar negotiation to lovers

smut, fluff, angst

Printer jam

rated: explicit

office au

accountant yoongi, intern taehyung

pining, office crushes

desk sex

smut, fluff

Fly me to the moon

rated: explicit

established relationship taegi

hotel room sex

sex tapes

long distance boyfriends

fluff, smut

Why don't you love me?

rated: explicit

omegaverse

university au

alpha taehyung, omega yoongi

unrequited love

best friends to lovers

claiming/mating

angst, fluff, smut

Yoonjin:

Talk me down

rated: explicit

married yoonjin

modern setting au

yoongi and jin are in so in love

smut, fluff, pinch of angst

Minimoni:

Part of your world

rated: explicit

minimoni / minjoon

mermaid au

human Namjoon, mermaid Jimin

mutual pining

angst, fluff, smut

Yoonmintae:

Count me in

rated: E

throuple au

boyfriends!taegimin

top taehyung, switch yoongi, bottom jimin

smut, fluff, pinch of angst

Order up!

rated: E

threesome

boyfriends!vmin, poly taegimin

top taehyung, switch yoongi, bottom jimin

sugar daddy taehyung, sugar baby jimin, waiter yoongi

smut, fluff

Vminkook:

Look what the cat dragged in

rated: E

college au

roomates!vmin, frat boy jungkook

first time threesome

top taehyung, bottom jimin, top jungkook

smut

Yoongi x Maknae line:

Happy Birthday Yoongi!

rated: E

yoonkook, yoonmin, taegi

canon compliant

maknae line treat yoongi on his bday

smut, fluff

38 notes · View notes

joons-bonsais · 2 hours ago

Text

Home for Christmas

Synopsis: Christmas is everything he is not, and yet everything you care about.

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Smutty holiday fluff. Word count: 7,675

Author's note: After many years of reading, this is my first time posting Bangtan fic on Tumblr! I would appreciate any love or feedback. Thank you!

Namjoon hates Christmas.

He’s well aware that he’s become some kind of Scrooge and you like to call him The Grinch with all the affection in the world.

Namjoon likes his own space. He likes time to himself. His corner to read. His time exploring museums and quiet bookstores without the hustle and bustle of droves of people. And Christmas, it’s…well Christmas is everything he isn’t.

It’s about crowded malls full of people and children. Long lines. (He told you once that if he could, he’d do all the shopping online and he’ll never forget how your face soured. “It’s a part of the experience,” you insisted. Before launching into some talk about how seeing all of the lights and people lined up for Santa was just part of the season.)

Christmas is everything he is not, and yet everything you care about. You, with your red lipstick and infectious smile. The one that feels like it’s lodged itself into the corner of his chest. (If he’s gonna stick with the Grinch metaphor, then his heart is two sizes too small.) You and your stack of cookies piled high on his kitchen counters. The smell of sugar and frosting wafting through his house. The way you stay up late into the night baking. (Cooking and baking alone. He always leaves you alone. His chest aches at the thought, but he’ll get to that later -)

You with the holiday earrings that dangle against your face and hit the lights. Sometimes they get caught in your hair, so he has to smile and stop and untangle them from the strands, and you laugh and stand up on your toes and kiss him thanks. They come in so many different shapes - wreaths, holly, and mistletoe, and gingerbread houses and gingerbread men, even ones that light up.

You hang tinsel wherever you can. Balancing your feet on chairs to reach up and touch the tallest corners in your house. Sometimes he has to hold you by the waist, or you ask him to help and he obliges you. You’re cute like that, you could get him to do anything you need.

It’s you and the way you hang mistletoe over the corridor that joins your kitchen and living room together and the way you kiss him. Looping your fingers into the belt hoops on his pants and pulling him in for a kiss every morning. (Not this morning though. He remembers wrly-)

It’s you sitting on the floor of the living room by his feet, surrounded by roll on roll of wrapping paper as you wrap gifts for all of the important people in your life. The scent of the cinnamon and Christmas tree candles you light. The way the flames of the fireplace crackle in the distance between the two of you. The excited way you look at the presents under the tree, when he steals a glance at you over the corner of his book.

It’s you. Your generosity and the way you so eagerly offer your heart to the people you love. The way you light up a room. The red and gold ribbons on the presents you stay up hours wrapping. The smell of sugar and icing, or roast vegetables and chicken through the house when he gets home.The sweetness of your mouth against his, the taste of peppermint on your tongue when he kisses you. Even the giant ugly Christmas sweaters you buy, that seem to engulf your curvy frame. The way you always buy one for him to match- even if he so rarely obliges you and wears them. You’re the gift. You’re the season. He’s always adored that about you, why did he not make that more obvious sooner?

He slams the book in his lap shut, his eyes staring up at the Christmas tree you’d begged him to help you with. It went up right before the first of December, like clockwork. Just like every year. Except now, it’s Christmas Eve and you aren’t here to tenderly touch the Christmas ornaments or fix them in place. You’re not here to place a gift in his hand at midnight and crawl into his lap, insisting he opens something you’ve got him.

Namjoon’s hand pulls at the Christmas sweater on his large frame. He feels dumb. His phone feels heavy in his pocket. Should he text you? He itches to send you a photo of the sweater. Maybe you would crack a smile? Maybe you would come home? A quieter voice nags at his brain: Maybe you still want to be left alone.

Namjoon is hopeless. He finds himself turning on the Christmas lights on the tree and the ones on the porch, and everywhere you’ve put them up in the house and in the front yard.

One Christmas tree was never enough for you. He counted about three in the house, the last time he checked. But he finds another one still in its box, resting against a wall by your closet. It looks abandoned and sad, like it’s waiting for you to return too. He lets out a disgruntled noise as he hoists it over his shoulder and brings it downstairs. He’ll set it up next to the front door. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll come home and see it.

It doesn’t take him long to set it up, he shakes off some of the fake pine needles that cling to his sweater. He finds more ornaments, red bells and candy canes and little red balls. He’ll stick with a theme. You’d love a theme.

Then Namjoon moves to the living room. He even gets on a ladder to straighten the star on top of the tree, where it’s sat crooked for the rest of the month because you couldn’t reach high enough to fix it. He throws some wood into the fireplace so it crackles like you’re there to wrap presents at his feet. He lights the cinnamon candles and he touches the mistletoe on the wall, where he imagines how he’d kiss you sorry and kiss you thanks and leave you breathless.

He later finds a small stack of presents under the tree in your living room, he vaguely remembers you telling him that you meant to wrap them late and give them out after New Years when you come back to work after the holidays. He settles on the floor. He’s hunched over, crossing one long leg over another, as he gets to work wrapping each box. He’s able to secure each present is safely covered with colorful wrapping paper - and yet none of the expert packing expertise you have, so the corners aren’t folded as neatly as you would have done, but he keeps going. He finishes them off by tying some messy bows on top of each gift, before he realizes how hungry he is. Namjoon’s stomach grumbles in response as if to confirm his feelings. He wonders idly for a second, if you’ve already eaten and what you’re doing right now. Where would you have gone together tonight? What would you have made, had you decided to stay?

In the kitchen, his hands sneak into the Santa shaped cookie jar you left on the counter, always full with chocolate cookies. He makes a packet of ramen, the only thing he can salvage tonight, and a cup of hot cocoa. He grabs your favorite mug from the counter, a snowman figure wrapped in a red scarf that he’s positive looks like it’s laughing at him right now.

Through all of this, his phone continues to feel like a weight in his pocket as the night goes on. He misses you a lot. He misses you so much.

He doesn’t know where he wants to sleep tonight. The bed feels too empty without you. The red and black flannel sheets were your choice. The other rooms have Christmas tree print sheets and every room feels like it knows you’re missing too, knows that you have just vanished.

The only place he feels safe enough is the living room. God help him, he even scrolls through the TV and picks a channel with one of those 24 hour rotation of Christmas songs. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” blares over the speakers as Monie comes to sit at his feet, whining softly, like he misses you too.

“I know,” he tells him. “I know.”

The house is unsettling in its quiet. He decides to busy himself by making another batch of cocoa. The mug feels warm and heavy in his hand, the snowman is still laughing at him when he thinks back to the fight you had before you left-

“Which one do you want to wear to the Christmas party?” you’d asked him, holding up a hanger in each arm, one white sweater sitting on one and a black turtleneck sitting on the other.

“What for?” he replied, not really looking at you.

“My friends want to take photos.”

“Uhh I don’t really care,” he’d said. “You know this stuff is more you than me, baby.”

“Your sister said she likes the black turtleneck better. She said she might be able to drop by too!” you said excitedly.

“My sister?”

“I told you this morning, she said she might be in town.”

“Oh. It must have skipped my mind,” Namjoon had replied. He knows he can be forgetful, but he must have been so focused on getting to the studio that morning. He also remembers some messages from his family had gone unanswered and you’d replied to them before they could grow worried. You’re thoughtful like that.

“Actually, baby - there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Tell me what?” Your voice hadn’t even lost its excitement over thinking about plans yet. Bless your heart.

“I actually might not be able to make it, baby. I have something to finish back at the studio-”

“You always have something to finish at the studio…”

“I know, baby. But-”

“But it’s Christmas,” you’d said simply. He should have ended it there. If he was being honest, he knew the songs could wait. But he was tired, stubborn-

“It doesn’t matter, baby. I’ve got work to do, if I lose the idea- it can’t wait.-” But you can? I expect you to? What had he meant by that? He still doesn’t know. He groans at the memory, sliding his hand over his face.

“Can it wait for just a few hours?” you sounded like you were begging him as you settled the clothes on your bed. “Julia’s coming, it’s her first time meeting you. I just want to get a few photos and have some food-” He could almost hear the “please” hanging off the end of your tongue.

“You’ll be fine without me,” he’d insisted.

“But I want you there.” Then, your voice sounding smaller - “ Joon. I don’t want to- please don’t make me go alone.”

“Baby- Try to understand-”

“I do,” you had said, voice beginning to sound cracked. “I always understand you. I always try to.”

“Then hear me out right now. Okay, listen? You’ll be fine. You could even spend the night with everyone! I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But-”

Ugh. He remembers now. You couldn’t get a word in because that was when he’d started talking over you - like an irritated parent trying to reprimand their child.

“We spent last Christmas together already, didn’t we? And the one before that. It’s just one. Day. Baby-”

“Not to me, it isn’t. Joon. Please-”

“This is so dumb, Y/N. Why are you wasting time? Why are we fighting about this? It’s one stupid day out of the whole damn year-”

He was careless, it was the wrong choice of words. He knew it the moment he let them slip and turned around to find you. The look on your face had made it hard to sleep that night. You looked so hurt.

“Baby, I-”

You shook your head and that was the worst part. You looked like a sad painting coming to life. The movement wrenched the water from your eyes, as you started to blink back a few tears.

“Baby,” he tried. “ Wait. I didn’t mean it like that-”

“No. You’re right. It’s stupid,” you said, sniffling as you repeated the same words he had just thrown at you. It made him feel cold, frozen in place. For a second, he couldn’t speak. “It’s stupid. It is. It’s one day of the year. I’ll tell your family- my friends- I’ll tell them- something-”

Even though it was his fault, you were still there trying to make up for him, to save face and make up for it and protect him. You’re an angel. The way you put up with his schedule and the way he can’t be there for you is a miracle in itself. Why did he not catch that?

“Come on baby. I’m sorry- I didn’t-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. And you were crossing the distance of the room now, too fast for him to reach for you. Pulling on a coat. Reaching for your half packed luggage. “The thing is, we both know you’re not- Namjoon. And it’s fine.” You were blinking back tears as you said this. He remembers how your voice sounded when it cracked. “You hate it. It’s one stupid day out of the whole year. I understand how much your work means to you. I do. I always have. But it’s one - it’s just one stupid day- that means a lot to me. And I wish you could just be there. For me.”

The slamming of the door behind you felt like the final note. A few minutes later, Namjoon remembers Monie approaching the door, crying softly after you.

When Namjoon looks back at the mug, it’s empty. He rubs his thumb across the edge of its rim and stares up at the clock on the wall. It’s past midnight. Christmas.

He’s on the couch later, clutching a pillow to himself, his eyes almost drifting closed when the sound of -something- someone- crashing into the door makes him sit up-

“Shit!” you curse, as you stub the toe of your boot against the door, trying to drag your purse in after you.

“Baby?” Namjoon calls after you. “Y/N?”

When you don’t respond, he stands up and finds you trying to wrench your coat off. There are specs of snow melting in your hair. He glances at the clock again and it’s late. It’s late and yet, like some Christmas miracle, you’ve just come back to him.

He blinks, getting up from the couch, and for a brief second he catches the surprised look on your face, right before you try to paint over it with another emotion- something more passive and serious. Trying to gauge how you feel from across the room is hard, but he knows he caught you off guard. It’s obvious. You didn’t expect he would still be home-

He stands awkwardly to the side as he watches you place your knit hat and scarf down with your keys. When your eyes finally find him, he swallows hard. He towers over you regularly, but he feels small in your presence right now.

“I’m just here to get a few things. Julia said I could stay the night if I wanted,” you tell him, your words curt. He’s reminded of how you sounded right before you left him. “I’ll just grab them from the bathroom-”

Namjoon blearily stares at the spot you were just standing in front of him from. His brain and his eyes are unable to catch up with each other as he listens to the heel of your boots walking from room to room in the house. He watches in silence, feeling awkward as he stands up to get closer to the door. He’s afraid and unsure of what to say, swallowing hard - and running a nervous hand through his hair. On the floor, by the door he can see puddles of water where your boots were wet from the snow. He doesn’t want you to leave again but-

A second later, you’re standing behind him. He’s afraid to turn around, but he can feel you in the room before he even sees you. He hears your heavy sigh before you cross the first steps to walk past him towards the door, your overnight bag already slung over your shoulder.

But just as you’re about to reach a hand out for the doorknob, Monie runs past Namjoon- and straight to you.

“Monie?” you say, brightening as your dog rushes up to greet you. He immediately jumps up on his hind legs to say hi. And that’s when you notice what he’s got on - your fingers tracing his back in disbelief. “Monie, baby, what are you wearing?”

Namjoon watches as you touch the red sweater he wrestled him into earlier today so they could match.

You ruffle Monie’s fur and press your head against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. When you turn and look at Namjoon again, he can see your eyes are glistening a little.

“This was you?” you ask him, a soft smile catching on your lips.

Namjoon nods, taking one nervous step towards you.

“Here,” he stumbles over to reach for the bag on your shoulder, so he can set it down on the counter next to your purse. “If you want to just spend some time with him before you go. He’s missed you a lot-”

You hold Monie a little closer to your chest as Namjoon moves to the side so he can close the door after you. Your boots are still wet.

“Baby - hey,” he says softly, his voice sounds low and resigned, like he’s afraid you’ll turn away from him. “Come here. Let me help you-”

You watch in shock, growing a little teary eyed and choked up, as he gets on his knees to help unzip you out of your boots. You let Monie jump out of your arms, so you can balance your weight on Namjoon. Your hands are on his broad shoulders for leverage, your gaze moving past his frame when you finally see it.

“Joon?” His name hangs like a question on your tongue, your eyes wide as they take in the tree he put up, beautifully lit and facing the door, gleaming in red and white. You take a few steps from the door so you can look at it closer. Without turning to him, you blurt out loud- “You decorated?”

His hands find themselves stuffed into the pockets of his joggers as he crosses to where you’re standing. Namjoon feels small standing in front of you.

He wants to engulf you in his arms, he wants to touch you so bad. But he’s anxious and the uncertainty keeps his arms glued to his sides.

Namjoon’s big deep voice chuckles nervously. “I fixed the star. The one on the tree here in the other room- uh, too- You said it was crooked-”

“Baby?” you say, closing the last few inches of distance. He trembles as you touch his face, cupping his cheek. He’s afraid to meet your eyes. Your hands feel cold against his skin, your gloves dangling off your wrist. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you at the studio?”

“I couldn’t- I didn’t want to go. I know it meant a lot to you,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. “All of this. I know it means a lot to you. I couldn’t concentrate…” His voice is full of guilt as his face slumps in your hands. “I didn’t mean what I said, baby. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s not stupid. If something means a lot to you, it can’t be. If you care about it, then I care about it too because I love you.”

You’re silent for a second as you process what he just said.

“So you didn’t just make up some lie to get out of going to the party with me?” You laugh softly at the stricken look on Namjoon’s face, your thumb stroking across his jaw. “David - one of Julia’s friends- he said that’s what you were probably doing.”

“I- no. No. Baby - I wouldn’t lie to you-” the words come out of his mouth in a panicked rush.

You laugh softly again, your fingers moving to his cheek to tell him you understand. “I told him I didn’t think that was it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes full of some kind of heady combo of guilt and remorse.

“I was stupid - careless- I made a mistake when - I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry I did. It’s your favorite time of year,” he says in a softer voice. “All you were asking for was for me to be excited for you, to be there for you, just like you’re always there for me.”

He’s relieved to see you begin to smile, the edges of your mouth lifting up as he apologizes.

“You came back,” he says, voice full of relief, like this is a revelation he hasn’t gotten used to. He’s beaming between your hands as he smiles. The dimples in his cheeks seem to light his whole face up.

“Of course I did,” you say, like it was never a question. “I missed you. And besides, I was making everyone at the house miserable moping around about how much I wished you were there.” You stop to laugh, adopting a nagging tone to your voice as you roll your eyes and imitate yourself - “Namjoon would love this. Namjoon hasn’t seen this yet. Namjoon hasn’t tried this yet. If he was here-”

He has to laugh, relieved, as he drops his face to your shoulder. “I was miserable without you too, baby. Even Monie knew.” Like he knows he has a cue, your dog suddenly appears at your feet again, whining and begging to be pet. You kneel so you’re eye level with Monie and run your hands through his soft white fur and his red knit sweater, your fingers tracing over the little Christmas light design on his back. He yelps happily and bounces up to lick your cheek before you put him in the other room to sleep on his own little bed.

“Show me what else you did while I was gone,” you grin at Namjoon, as he takes your hand in his and tows you into the other room with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I put up the rest of the ornaments and I turned on the lights. I made dinner,” he smiles, glancing at the ramen packets on the counter. You have to laugh. He’s so grateful you can cook. “I wrapped the rest of the presents. The ones you forgot, for your friends from work-”

“You what?” you say, laughing, squeezing his big hand where he’s clinging to you. He slides his arm around your waist to hug you tighter as you get closer to the tree. Sitting at the bottom are a few presents crookedly wrapped.

“Namjoon-” you say, taken aback by his effort. Your eyes feel glossy with the display of his sentiments. He tried, he really tried. And that’s all that you’ve ever wanted.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” you say, your fingers pressed into his chest. Namjoon holds you close, both of his long arms tight around your waist and it’s just the two of you together for just a moment. His forehead sitting against yours, as the Christmas music flows around you. He’s so big, your man, you feel so safe with how tight he’s squeezing you. His heart is beating so rapidly beneath the palm of your hand as he gently sways you to the music.

“Can you kiss me?” he asks after a long moment, finally opening his eyes. It’s been days since he kissed you. He wants to touch you so much. His eyes rove up and your gaze follows so you can see where he moved some more mistletoe.

“Mistletoe?” you ask, smirking.

“Please?” he says, smiling as presses his face even closer to you.

You’re giggling as you reach for him, your fingers pulling at his sweater. He has to bend down a little to kiss you, but this is one of your favorite parts about him. It’s like a dance you both know so well. You lean your head up, just as his fingers find your hair and he pulls you close. His other hand catches your jaw, his long fingers cupping your face so you have to lean up to find his mouth.

His plush mouth presses against your own, locking your lips together. Kissing him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You’ll never get used to how soft his mouth is, how full his lips are. He tastes a little like the hot chocolate he had before you came home. And he smells exactly the same. Like his cologne and the cinnamon candle he lit in your absence. He feels like Christmas and home all wrapped in one, everything familiar and exciting all at the same time.

His gravelly voice is moaning into your mouth when you pull him closer, parting his full lips to kiss him deeper, rolling your tongue over his own until he feels like he’s melting into you. Your arms wrap around his neck. You’re overwhelmed with the need to feel him on top of you, his weight against every inch of your skin.

“Namjoon-” you moan when you can finally wrench your mouth away from him. But he doesn’t let you go as easily, his long fingers clutching your hair between his fingers. One of his hands clutches your waist, pressing you more firmly against the solidness of his body. His soft lips simply move down to mouth down your throat. He can’t get enough of you. He’s just missed the way you smell, the way you taste.

“You even put on the sweater I got you-” you laugh with realization, hands clenching the end of the sweater so you can slip your fingers underneath the hem of it and touch the firm, warm skin of his tan stomach.

He laughs too, loud and throaty, cupping your face as he kisses your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, baby,” he says, his voice low, warm breath tickling your ear. “My heart’s two sizes too small, but it’s all for you.”

You have to laugh as his mouth meets yours again and this time it’s his tongue slipping into your mouth. He shivers as your nails scrape down his belly.

“I missed you,” you tell him, and the honesty in your voice could break his heart. It’s enough for him to pull away so he can stare into your eyes. You seem to hold all of the love and warmth in the world for him there. It never fails to make his heart feel full. He needs you so much.

“I missed you too, baby. Want to know how much?”

You nod, kissing him. “Show me,” you whimper. “Touch me-”

It’s soft and slow then, Namjoon’s long fingers peeling you out of every piece of clothing. Unwrapping you like a gift. Kissing your legs as he zips you out of your jeans and peels you out of your turtleneck. When he reaches your panties, he rubs you through the fabric until his fingertips feel wet, then he licks you through the cotton like he can’t help himself, before pushing them down to your ankles.

Namjoon takes his time taking you apart, first with his fingers and then his mouth, until both his hands and face are glossy with how much you need him and you’re begging him- fingers wound tight around his jet black hair as he eats you out. His temple stings with just enough pain and he loves it.

His big, soft lips were made for this. Firm enough that you can grind against his mouth, and plush enough that you feel like you can meld with him. He alternates between flicks and swirls against your clit and deep licks inside your cunt, where he stiffens his tongue enough so he can fill your wet, aching hole with it before sliding back up to suck gently at your clit. You can feel how wet you are, his spit and your wetness combined, dripping between your thighs and onto his fingers like nectar. You can hear it too, and that coupled with the noises Namjoon is making - the little gasps and moans he makes as he sucks and licks is too much. When he brings his fingers into the mix, it’s over for you. The sensation on your sensitive clit, while his fingers - three of them - you gasp- fill you is too much and you’re cumming-

“Oh my god - Namjoon-“

When you look down at him from between your legs, the image is obscene. His tongue laving at your pussy, his big, soft lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks, his long fingers buried deep inside of you, curving towards that tender part of you that has you screaming.

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Namjoon moans. His voice muffled with how deep he presses his face into your wetness. You grind against him just as hard as your orgasm takes you in waves. “Please baby- Let me taste your pussy.”

Your chest is heaving as Namjoon reaches up to squeeze you between his hands, like he’s trying to prove to himself that you’re really here, groping your breasts and pinching one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He only stops when your fingers release their tight hold on his hair. He gives your swollen clit one more gentle suck between his plump lips, feels the way you shiver as he slides his fingers from your soaked pussy and he finally, reluctantly pulls away to crawl up your body. He only stops to get his sweater over his head before he’s back on top of you.

“Namjoon,” you cry, fingers trembling as you reach for him. “I need you. I missed you

so much. Baby please-

“I love you,” he whimpers into your mouth. Tongue so deep in your mouth that you can taste yourself on him. “I need you too baby-”

“I need your cock,” you beg. “Namjoon, I want you inside- please. Please fill me up. God, please-” You sound so desperate, he finds it so cute, the way you beg for his cock, like you’re begging him to come home.

“I’ll give it to you, baby. You have me,” he says. “Fuck. I’m so hard Y/N- I get this hard just eating your pussy, baby.” - he groans, jaw clenched, breath panting against your face. You know he’s cum untouched more than once in the past, just from eating you out.

“Take it out, baby. Please. Let me see it.”

Now it’s your turn to tease. You run your red nails along Namjoon’s stomach, loving watching his body tense as you drag them across his honey skin.

Namjoon hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, sliding them down enough to take his cock out. He locks eyes with you once, his beautiful eyes slipping closed only after, when he starts to touch himself.

You smirk when he reveals that he’s not wearing underwear underneath his clothes, something he rarely does unless you’re both home and alone. And his cock is already hard, just like he said. So swollen, you feel like it must hurt him- the way his erection is hanging towards his stomach.

He looks so gorgeous from this angle. His hair is falling in front of his face. And his thick, muscular thighs are framing his beautiful swollen cock. There’s so much precum already dripping from the tip. You almost want to stop and take him between your lips, you’re dying to lick at the underside of his cock, but decide that you want him hard and inside of you more instead.

When you lean forward to touch him, Namjoon twitches. He moans just feeling your hands on his thighs, your breath against his cock. He can’t help but pull your hair, he knows you like it - as you make your hand into a fist.

He lets you touch him. It’s only been days, but it drives him crazy, feeling your hands on his skin. And when he grabs the back of your neck and tilts your head up, he kisses you like he has something to prove.

You love feeling the heaviness of his cock in your hand. Namjoon moans into your mouth when he looks down to see the way you’re grasping him, hips pushing his cock further into your hand. His own hands are massive, but his cock is so devastatingly thick and long, that it always manages to still look big in his hands. And in your hands- well he won’t hide how turned on he is by how small your fingers look wrapped around him, and always so soft. One of your hands continues stroking him while the other reaches further back to fondle his balls, heavy with so much cum for you.

“Fuck Y/N-” he gasps into your mouth, mumbling curses against your lips. His knuckles are almost white as he urges you to lay down. “Come here-”

Namjoon moves closer to hover over you, one hand dragging one of your legs over one of his broad shoulders. He leaves kisses against your ankle and calves as he stretches you out. You feel more wetness leaking from your cunt, so turned on by how he’s able to lift you and get you into exactly the position he wants.

One hand moves under to support your ass, trying to angle you up to take his cock and the other hand is spreading you wide. The warmth from the fireplace feels like it is licking at your skin. Namjoon’s long fingers swirl around your clit, drawing more wet, sweetness from your cunt as he moves.

Your breath hitches as he slides just the tip of his cock in, getting himself wet with you. He likes taking his time like this, getting every inch of himself wet with you. He can feel it, feel you, from the tip of his cock, all the way down to where you continue to drip, soaking his balls with it.

“Baby, please- Namjoon-” your voice sounds pained, every time he retreats, his hard cock just dragging, dipping shallowly inside of you before leaving again. “Don’t tease- please. Not tonight- I came home for you.”

He kisses you to soothe you. His full lips are so soft, it feels sinful. Your desperation seems to grow, you can’t help but clench your teeth - the drag of just the head of his cock against your clit makes your nipples hard, as he teases you again and again.

“Oh fuck. You’re so wet,” Namjoon groans when he finally slides all the way inside of you.

“Namjoon-” the stretch of him leaves you speechless. His cock just feels so good pushing into your body.

You feel so exposed, spread apart like this. Namjoon’s fat cock is splitting you open, with your legs spread, open so wide. But it’s the way Namjoon looks at you that makes you feel the most exposed. The precise, serious look on his face. The way he gauges every breath, every twitch of your skin pressed against his. Sweat is glistening down the long column of his neck, down his chest and stomach. The little whimpers he lets out as he coaxes you closer and closer to cumming on his cock.

“Your pussy was made for me Y/N-” he tells you. His eyes roll back as he says it. His fingers dip down to slide across the lips of your wet cunt. You look so beautiful spread open and so slick, dripping for him. “Just like I was made for you. My cock- made for fucking you.”

“Y-yes. Belongs to me. Just like I belong with you - to you. Joon-”

“Shit- You love hearing that?” he teases you, his deep voice miraculously dropping even lower as he laughs quietly. You shiver hearing the change in his tone, intertwining with the wet sound of your fucking as Namjoon keeps going.

“Yes,-” you cry out, nails clenching the pillow behind you. “You’re so big, Namjoon. Hard- Fuck me so good-”

The pit in your stomach feels like it’s tightening as you listen to Namjoon talk to you- “Fuck yes. I know you do. You’re home now, baby. Where you belong. Geting fucked by my cock- like you deserve. I’m so deep baby, tell me how good it feels-”

“I’m close-Don’t stop-” you warn him, sounding utterly broken. Your spine arches back against the couch, pushing more of your body towards his mouth. He has to wrench his lips away from where they were wrapped around your hard nipple. It aches when he pulls away.

“I know, baby. I won’t stop,” he promises. “I can feel it. Fuck-” he grunts, his deep voice filling your ear. His lips kissing your face. You turn your face in his palm when he cups your cheek, fingers wrapped around the side of your throat like he owns you. You press your fingers around his wrist, wordlessly reassuring him, telling him to go harder. The way you trust him implicitly never fails to amaze him. He’s so gone, so completely in awe of you - he swears it makes his dick even harder-

You whimper when you clench around him, walls tight around the girth of his cock. The heaviness of him inside you seems to fill a deep, deep ache. It’s no wonder you always feel empty without him. Your nails dig into his forearms as he continues pounding into you, pushing you deeper into the cushions behind you.

“You’re gripping my cock, baby,” he moans. “Squeezing around me so tight- fuck. Give it to me. I missed you so much, baby. I missed touching you. I missed kissing you all over. I missed you cumming on me.”

Your hands slide down to touch yourself as you grab both your breasts, feeling the heaviness and pinching your nipples as he fucks you. Namjoon’s jaw falls open, the sight alone makes him cry out. You’re so fucking hot and he’s missed you so much. Missed being around you, inside of you. Fuck.

It’s when your fingers reach between you that he almost loses it. Watching your fingers swirl around your clit- fingers bumping against the base of his shaft every time he slides out of you. His cock comes out pearly and glistening with your juices every time he slides out. The friction of your hand pressing against your clit and the feel of him filling you to the brim with his cock is about to send you spiraling.

“Fuck. Yeah, baby. Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself for me. Help me make you cum. I want you to cum on my cock, can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes-”

He smiles. “Look at me, baby. Yes you can. Did so well. Always take me so good. You came home like a good girl. You look so beautiful taking every inch of me- and now you’re gonna cum so hard, you’re gonna get me wet with it, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes! Namjoon! Don’t stop-don’t stop-please-”

“I know. I can feel it. Cum. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, baby. I’m here for you. I’m here-“

It hits you hard, makes you feel like your body was struck. You feel breathless, weightless.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” Namjoon coaxes as you cum, clenching and spasming around his cock so tight. He keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm. His hands press you more solidly against him when you try to squirm. He wants you to take everything you need from him. “Keep going-”

When you come back down, your thighs are still shaking when you reach for him. He lets your legs down to fall around his waist. Your hands slide down to touch more of him, nails digging into his skin, grabbing handfuls of his ass to shove him in deeper, feel him closer.

“Cum,” you moan into his mouth. You grasp his face so he’s looking into your eyes when you say it and he starts moving again. “Please Namjoon. Cum-”

You clench your teeth, grinding up against him as he starts to do exactly like you told him, and he starts fucking you through the last remains of your orgasm, just as you feel like he’s going to send you teetering through another one so soon-

“Oh fuck-baby,” he gasps. “Yes. Yes. Take it-all”

He can still feel your walls fluttering around his cock and it feels incredible. Tight and so wet. You’ve been stretched out enough by his fingers and his dick that you can take him harder, his pelvis slamming into you as he keeps thrusting.

His deep voice is rendered almost speechless, as he whimpers into your neck, “It feels so fucking good baby-” And he means it. Your pussy, your hands clinging to his back - slick with sweat, your breath and voice in his ear telling him how much you want - no, need his cum inside you.

You feel it when he swells and then spills - “Fuck baby-” he grunts into your ear, breath panting against your face as he chases his high.

Your hands feel so small against his skin as he keeps thrusting. Your fingers still tight around his waist and his ass as you clench around his cock, trying to milk the last drops of his cum. It goes on for so long, that his body shudders against yours, cock twitching inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, there’s so much-“ Namjoon groans through clenched teeth when he looks down, staring at your pussy, puffy and swollen where his cock is already pushing more of his cum and your juices out.

“Feels so good,” you whine, continuing to roll your hips as he fucks you through it, until it becomes too much. “Feel so full.”

“You’re so messy baby.” There’s a smile in his voice as he teases you. “So fucking full of my cum. You want it?”

God, this man. “Mmmhmm. Every drop belongs to me-”

Namjoon groans. He’s a man of many words, but you’re the one person in the world that can render him speechless with just a few. “Fuck. I love you Y/N.” He drops his face into your neck, grinning.

You can still feel Namjoon, still half hard inside of you. But he doesn’t move to pull out just yet, instead winding his arms tighter around you.

“I’ll clean us up,” he says. “I promise. I just want to hold you for a sec.” He’s not ashamed to admit he’s missed feeling close to you.

You look so beautiful beneath him like this. The Christmas lights flashing against your naked skin. You're still trembling a little as you catch your breath. Your hands, red nails framing your face. Sweat glistening on your skin. Your hair is wet from the melting snow and sweat.

He touches his thumb against your bottom lip and you smile, kissing his fingers, your eyes still closed. His mouth finds yours, as he kisses you and kisses you. They’re the softest lips you’ve ever tasted.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” And you have to open your eyes and lift your head up to look at him to truly capture the enthusiasm in his voice. He looks happy. Like the Christmas spirit perfectly captured in the warmth of his smiling, dimpled face. “I love you,” he says.”Thank you for coming home.”

“I love you too.”

“I want to come over for photos,” he says after a moment, while you trace his face, absentmindedly brushing his black hair with your fingers. “I want to come over and have Christmas dinner and see everyone and go look at lights.”

Your gaze softens as you stare at him, slowly comprehending what he is telling you.

“I want to go to the studio with you,” you say quietly.

“Baby- No- It’s your favorite day of the year-”

“It is,” you tell him. “We’ll do photos and presents. We’ll eat. And we can also take dessert back with us. We can come back to your studio for a little while after. We can look at some lights on the way home. I want to see you- I want to be alone with you and make up for the last few days, Namjoon. I shouldn’t have ran off-”

“You did the right thing,” he says softly. “We needed time to cool off and I needed to give you space. I needed to realize I was being an asshole and not understanding you.”

“It’s not a big deal-“

And Namjoon shakes his head as you try to deflect. “Don’t do that. Don’t say that. It is, baby. If it’s important to you, it’s a big deal. And it should be important to me too. I don’t want to miss important days because of work. It will always be there when I get back. But you-“

“Namjoon-“

“You’ve always been more understanding than I deserve. I want to celebrate with you” He’s lost in his own silence for a little before he speaks again. “Let’s call it a truce?” he says.

“A compromise,” you tell him simply. And his smile is so big, his dimples so deep, you can’t help giggling when you reach up halfway to kiss him again.

“Dinner. Photos. Presents,” he says.

“Mmm hmm,” you reply around his full lips. You’ll really never get enough of kissing him. “Studio. Dessert. Lights. Then I’m taking you home.”

“I love you,” he tells you again, kissing you deeply.

“I love you too, Joonie,” you say. You smile as he holds you closer, tighter. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas. I hope you have a good holiday wherever you are.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed what you read. You can also find me @kissesinthekitchen on AO3!

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