let my love adorn you | hoseok x reader | 0: redbone

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"Hey, Hobi. Hey." You nudge his calf with your foot, not wanting to move from your place on the couch. Yoongi's got some Childish Gambino song playing in the background, and maybe it's because you're stuck hotboxing in the room with your best friends—your stupid best friends, who've just become champions at the final streetdance competition this year and consequently need to unwind from all the stress—or maybe it's the lazy grin on your very best friend's face as he smokes his joint. It's the same one he wears when he's on-stage, dead center, and you don't know if he knows it, but it turns you the hell on. 

petals and thorns | taehyung x reader | prologue

(image source: @jijkooks x )

The first time Tae dyes his hair is on a breezy spring day in your sophomore year at university. You’re both supposed to be at an orientation, but instead you’re at the girls’ dorm bathroom: him sitting on the stool you’ve taken from the work area nearby; you slowly massaging the red dye into his scalp with your right hand, taking care not to splatter the dye onto your favourite sleeping shirt.  

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amor fati [m] (1/3) | namjoon x reader

“You’re a tease, you know that?”

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It’s a Thursday night, and you’re back on your bullshit, flicking aimlessly through a dating app as your roommate frowns at the classic drama—eyeroll count for the night: a record 29 times—you’ve both committed to watching. Your living room is what you’d call ‘slightly untidy,’ meaning you can see the floor through the sheer amount of stuff you have lying around. You’ve only been around for a couple of months, and the boxes you brought from home remain half-packed, Mom’s favourite sweater and your memory corkboard still stashed under stationery you'd bought in the town bookstore. You’d feel guilty, but strewn all over the floor are Seulgi’s many pairs of shoes, her piles of laundry balancing precariously on every surface you can find. 

"Why do they always have to make kimchi?" Seulgi grumbles, scratching her head and dislodging the pen holding her bun in place. You cock your head at your phone, just in time to see the pen fall. When you reach out to catch it, you drop your phone, and you wince as the jelly case bounces on the carpet you'd thankfully brought out of storage last week. Seulgi doesn't miss a thing. Her hand reaches out, and though you lunge at her with a beastly screech, she manages to grab your phone first. "Well, well," she says, raising an eyebrow at your screen. " 'Namjoon, 24. Writer, rapper, master's candidate. Let's find crabs by the oceans together!' Better be careful with this one. You might catch something you don't like.”