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Rumors In Motion

Jung Hoseok X Reader

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The first thing Hoseok noticed after leaving his studio that night was how quiet the building had become.

The usual sounds were still there, the faint hum of the air conditioning, the occasional footsteps of staff members still finishing their work, the distant sound of music coming from another room where someone was still practicing, but compared to the energy of the day, everything felt almost still.

His studio door remained slightly open behind him, the warm light from inside spilling into the hallway, his computer still displaying an unfinished track, several layers of music waiting for him to return, but he had already abandoned the song for something else.

Hoseok looked down at his phone again, the screen showing Hoshi’s latest practice update.

He had watched it so many times that he already knew every second, the moment Hoshi adjusted his footing, corrected his posture.

The moment your voice could faintly be heard from behind the camera but now, he wasn’t watching because of the choreography anymore. He was watching because he finally understood.

The mysterious choreographer everyone talked about, the person known only through recommendations and whispers between dancers, the one who never showed their face but somehow left a mark on every person they taught... Was the same person who had stood beside him in an elevator.

Rumors In Motion

Jung Hoseok X Reader

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The internet was becoming a problem, a very entertaining problem for Hoshi and a very exhausting one for you, mostly because every time he posted another progress update from your lessons, people became even more curious about the person behind the camera.

The private practice studio hidden inside the upper floors of the Pledis building had slowly become familiar territory, the wide mirrors covering one entire wall reflecting every movement back at you, the polished wooden floor carrying years of footsteps from countless rehearsals, the faint scent of sweat, fabric spray and coffee lingering in the air from the small refreshment corner near the entrance.

Outside the studio, the building continued moving in its own quiet rhythm, staff members walking through the long hallways with folders in their hands, dancers passing by with headphones on, muffled music escaping from other practice rooms, each closed door holding another artist working toward something only they could see.

Inside this room, however, the only thing that mattered was Hoshi refusing to stop talking.

"Oh, this one is definitely my favorite," Hoshi announced while sitting on the floor with his back against the mirror, his phone held up as he scrolled through the comments from his latest story.

You didn't even turn away from your laptop, where you were reviewing the footage from the day's practice, your cap resting beside you since there was no reason to hide inside a private studio.

Hi guyssss! I'll be uploading 2 chapters of Rumors in Motion today so stay tuned for that.

Also, quick question, do you guys want oneshots with Japanese actors?

Like Maeda Kentaro, Yudai Toyoda or Yoji Iwase? Let me know since their fan base in other countries is quite small, that's all~

#Iwase Yoji #Maeda Kentaro #x reader #Updates #Yudai Toyoda #I've watched their dramas soooo

Through The Screen

Jungkook x Reader

Hi guys! I'm still working on Rumors In Motion so have this oneshot/s instead while I mull over the story with Hoseok. Thank you for supporting!

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You found the app by accident, like most things that end up mattering far more than they should.

It happened on a random night when sleep refused to come. Moonlight spilled through the small gap in your curtains, stretching pale silver across your bedroom floor and climbing halfway up your bed. The glow from your phone illuminated your face while the rest of the room remained wrapped in darkness. Your blanket was tangled around your legs, one pillow hugged against your chest as your thumb moved endlessly across your screen.

Video after video, face after face, people dancing, people laughing, people traveling, people spending time with friends even random couples appearing in your feed for no reason other than the algorithm deciding you needed to see them.

You didn't or maybe you did, and maybe that was the problem then an advertisement appeared.

"Chat with your favorite idol."

Your thumb almost swiped past it, almost. Instead, it slowed-- Hovered, then tapped.

The app downloaded while you stared blankly at your ceiling, listening to the hum of your electric fan above you.

Mostly because you were bored, because it was late and because loneliness makes people curious.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

This is the ending guys, it took some time before I visualized what kind of ending I want it to be along with countless rewriting and proofreading. Thank you for reading Chasing Your Footprints!

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The gallery was busy that afternoon, soft conversations drifting through the air while footsteps echoed across polished wooden floors, visitors moved from one painting to another beneath warm lighting, pausing occasionally to admire brushstrokes or quietly discuss their interpretations, some stayed only a few seconds before moving on, others lingered longer as if something in the colors refused to let them leave.

Near the end of the exhibit, however, there was one painting that kept pulling people back, not because it was the largest or the most dramatic, but because it felt strangely familiar, like a memory you couldn’t place but still somehow missed.

From above, the canvas showed a small wooden café table, simple, warm, almost ordinary at first glance, yet impossible to ignore once seen.

Two cups rested across from one another.

One held a latte, carefully crafted foam forming a soft bloom on its surface, warm enough that you could almost imagine the steam.

The other held espresso, dark and rich, lightly dusted with cocoa powder, sitting beside an open journal filled with unfinished thoughts and crossed-out lines, a pen resting across it as if the writer had only paused for a moment.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

This story is now close to ending, it was a ride but a fun ride nonetheless. Part 10 will be the last part for this, so stay tuned for it, thank you~

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The next few days passed quietly, too quietly. The café never opened, the small wooden sign that usually welcomed customers remained flipped to CLOSED while rainwater from earlier storms still lingered faintly against the windows, people passed by normally outside without realizing the warmth inside the little cat café had disappeared for days.

Upstairs, you stayed curled inside your bedroom studio almost endlessly. Some mornings you simply sat on the floor in oversized clothes, staring blankly at an untouched canvas while weak sunlight crawled slowly across the room, other times you found yourself lying on the bed with one of the cats curled against your chest while memories replayed themselves against your will.

Namjoon laughing softly near the counter, Jimin nearly crying because one cat chose him over everyone else and Taehyung casually talking to you while feeding treats under the table despite your very clear “only two treats each” rule.

And Namjoon, always watching quietly, you hated how much you missed it.

Missed them... Missed him.

Sometimes the silence upstairs became unbearable enough that you forced yourself downstairs just to avoid drowning in your own thoughts. The café lights stayed dim while cats wandered lazily between tables, confused by the lack of customers, one of them eventually climbing directly onto the counter and knocking down an entire stack of napkins just to stare at you afterward like you were the problem.

“You’re lucky you’re cute” You muttered weakly while fixing the mess. The cat blinked slowly, completely unapologetic at its actions.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

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The moment the café door closed, the sound echoed through the entire room.

You locked it quickly with trembling hands before leaning your forehead weakly against the wood, your breathing uneven while rain battered endlessly outside. Tears were already falling before you even realized it, slipping silently down your face while the storm swallowed everything else.

On the other side of the door, he still stood there.

You could feel it somehow, the hesitation, the silence, the weight of him refusing to leave immediately.

Rain poured heavily outside, soaking through his clothes while the umbrella remained forgotten in his hand. Through the narrow glass beside the doorway, his blurred silhouette lingered beneath the dim streetlights.

Waiting.

Your chest hurt unbearably, then softly, muffled slightly through the storm, his voice reached you.

“I’ll come back when you’re calmer and ready to talk”

The words nearly broke you completely.

A few seconds later, footsteps slowly faded into the rain and only then did your knees finally give out.

Rumors In Motion

Jung Hoseok X Reader

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The dance industry was smaller than people thought, especially among idols.

Names traveled quickly through rehearsal rooms, backup dancers, choreographers and late-night practice sessions. Some names became trends for a few months before disappearing completely.

But yours didn’t and that was what made it strange because nobody seemed to know who you actually were, only stories.

At first, J-Hope barely paid attention to it. He heard your name occasionally from dancers during schedules.

“That choreography style feels similar to theirs.”

Or from idols after award show rehearsals.

“Apparently they trained with that ghost choreographer before comeback season.”

At first it sounded exaggerated, then the stories kept coming. A backup dancer once mentioned that Jackson Wang had apparently tried contacting you twice before successfully getting a response while another dancer swore G-Dragon replayed one of your dance videos multiple times during rehearsal without saying a word afterward.

Nobody knew if the stories were true and that somehow made them spread faster.

Still, Hoseok didn’t think much about you at first, not until Jimin showed him a video.

Uhm.. So guys, my pc keyboard gave up on me 😭. I ordered one yesterday soooo I think I'll be able to update tomorrow soon so I'm sorry in advance if some of you are waiting for updatesss. Also, reply here if you want to be added to the taglist, honestly forgot about it 🫠. Thank yoww~

#I'm stuck using my phone #I miss my keyboard honestly

Rumors In Motion

Jung Hoseok X Reader

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People often assumed you were born into dance because of how naturally your body moved, but the truth was simpler than that, you just never remembered a time without it.

Your childhood had always been filled with music leaking through open doors and the sound of your feet against polished floors. Ballet came first, small hands gripping barres too high for you while instructors adjusted your posture and your parents watched quietly from the corner with soft smiles on their faces.

Then came everything else... Jazz, contemporary, street dance, hip-hop.

You learned them greedily, not because someone forced you to, but because movement fascinated you in ways words never could. Every style felt like learning another language for emotions you didn’t know how to explain out loud, and your family never stopped you.

As long as you came home smiling and exhausted, they supported every sudden interest wholeheartedly.

One month you were obsessed with ballet technique, the next you were locking yourself in your room trying to master intricate footwork from underground hip-hop videos at two in the morning.

Somewhere along the way, your body stopped separating the styles entirely.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

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The storm did not soften.

Rain continued crashing violently against the rooftop windows while thunder rolled low above the city, shaking faintly through the walls of the upstairs room. Candlelight flickered between you and Namjoon, casting restless shadows across the floor while the covered canvas remained hidden behind you like something alive.

Neither of you moved, the argument still lingering heavily in the air.

“You should stop looking for things that were never meant for you to find.”

Namjoon kept replaying the sentence inside his head until slowly, painfully, understanding settled into him piece by piece.

His gaze lowered briefly before lifting toward you carefully. “You weren’t talking about the café.”

Your expression shifted instantly.

“The galleries,” he continued quietly.

You looked away.

“The curators.”

Passing Thunders

Kim Taehyung X Reader

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The storm had been going on for hours. Rain slid endlessly down the windows while thunder rolled across the sky loud enough to make the walls hum faintly beneath it. Usually the dorm was noisy enough to distract you from storms like this, but tonight the house felt strangely empty. The others had gotten stranded at a hotel after schedules ran late and the rain became too dangerous to drive through, leaving only you and Kim Taehyung in the dorm.

Unfortunately for you, thunderstorms had always been one of your biggest fears.

And being alone in your room was not helping at all.

Your room was warm compared to the cold weather outside, dim fairy lights glowing softly near the shelves while the scent of vanilla and chocolate lingered faintly in the air from the candle you lit earlier that evening. The blankets were soft, your pillows warm from constantly turning over them, and yet none of it was enough to calm your nerves. Every shadow stretching across the walls seemed unfamiliar tonight. Every creak sounded suspicious. Your imagination, unfortunately, was far too active during storms.

You buried half your face into your pillow with a groan. “Damn it… this bed is making it worse.”

Rumors In Motion

Jung Hoseok X Reader

Hi guys, this is just an intro for my next story. Credits also to the owner of the respective videos that I'll be using throughout the story!

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The studio was quiet except for the low hum of fluorescent lights.

Wide mirrors lined the entire back wall, reflecting the empty practice room over and over until it almost looked endless. The wooden floors carried old scuff marks from years of rehearsals, and near the far left corner sat a long counter cluttered with water bottles, tangled chargers, and a small coffee machine that blinked softly in the dark.

The camera rested at the front of the room.

Facing you, already recording. For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Then you walk into frame. Black hoodie, loose pants, a cap pulled low enough to hide your face completely.

The comments later would obsess over that part most, the fact that even standing directly in front of the camera, you still somehow felt untouchable.

You stop in the middle of the studio.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

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Rain arrived before closing. Not the soft kind either. The kind that swallowed the streets whole.

By the time Namjoon pushed open the doors of Morning Paws, the storm had already blurred the city outside into streaks of silver and gold. Water clung to the shoulders of his coat while distant thunder rolled somewhere beyond the buildings.

The café was quieter tonight, not empty yet but close. Only two tables remained occupied near the windows, their conversations hushed beneath the steady rhythm of rain against glass. Most of the cats had already curled themselves into sleepy shapes around cushions and bookshelves while dim golden light softened the room into something dreamlike and warm despite the storm outside.

Then you looked up from behind the counter and for the first time since he met you... You hesitated.

It was small, barely noticeable but Namjoon saw it immediately.

Chasing Your Footprints

Kim Namjoon x Reader

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The moment Namjoon saw the Morning Paws sign appear at the end of the street, he regretted bringing them. Not because they were loud—they were always loud. Not because they would attract attention either, because somehow the café remained untouched by things like that. People still sat comfortably by the windows, conversations still blended softly beneath quiet music, and warm light still spilled through the glass like nothing in the world moved fast enough to disturb it.

No, he regretted it because the café no longer felt neutral to him. It had become something personal.

“You’re walking too fast,” Jin complained behind him. “That means you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You wore the good coat,” Yoongi added lazily.

Namjoon immediately looked down at himself and that only made everyone laugh harder.

“I knew it,” Hoseok said brightly.

“This is humiliating,” Namjoon muttered.

Flowers At Your Doorstep

Xu Minghao X Reader

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The first snow came early that year.

November arrived quietly, carrying cold air through the narrow street between your buildings. Snow dusted the pavement in thin white layers that melted by noon, but it was enough to soften the city into something gentler. Across from your flower shop, the dance studio lights flickered awake before sunrise, and as always—you noticed.

You stood near the front window trimming stems beneath warm yellow light while watching silhouettes move behind the studio glass. Students arrived carrying coffee cups and sleepy eyes, stomping snow from their shoes before entering. Then he appeared. Tall, dark-haired, wrapped in oversized sweaters that looked soft enough to fall asleep in. You never learned his name, but you learned everything else. The way he stretched alone before classes began. The way he tucked loose strands of hair behind his ear while explaining movements. The way his dancing never looked rehearsed, only felt. Every movement carried emotion so naturally it almost hurt to watch sometimes. And every morning, while pretending to rearrange flowers near the window, you watched him.

Meanwhile, across the street, Minghao had already begun noticing you too.

And Still, We Bloomed

Min Yoongi X Reader / Choi Seungcheol X Reader

I met Min Yoongi before the world fully swallowed both of us whole.

Back then, success still felt close enough to touch instead of something constantly demanding more. I was known, but not overwhelmingly. A newbie plus-sized model slowly gaining attention online, a songwriter uploading late-night demos recorded beneath blankets and surrounded by empty coffee cups. He was already admired, already respected, already becoming untouchable in the eyes of fans, but privately he still looked like a tired man hiding beneath oversized hoodies and studio exhaustion.

We met through music first.

I had been invited to help write lyrics for a collaborative project with producers from different companies. I remember walking into the studio carrying too many notebooks against my chest, nervous enough to feel sick. The room smelled faintly of cold air-conditioning, instant ramen, and bitter coffee left sitting too long beside expensive equipment.

“You’re late,” Yoongi muttered without looking up properly.

“I got lost.”

“That’s not surprising.”

I should’ve been annoyed. Instead, I laughed.

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