BTS IMAGINES AND SCENARIOS

Nightmare's Angel✿(Jung Hoseok/J-hope)

The first time I dream of him, it feels too real to be just a dream.

I’m standing in a field at night, the grass silver under the light of a massive moon. Everything is quiet — not just silent, but quiet, like sound itself doesn’t exist here. Then I hear it: footsteps behind me.

I turn, and he’s there.

Tall, warm brown eyes, a smile that looks like it could chase away anything. He’s dressed in clothes I can’t quite place — part armor, part silk, like something out of a fairytale.

“Don’t be scared,” he says, his voice low but soothing. “You’re safe here.”

I want to ask him who he is, but before I can, the dream fades, and I wake up with his voice still in my head.

---

It happens again the next night. And the night after.

Every time I close my eyes, I find him waiting — sometimes in a forest with trees that glow faintly gold, sometimes on a cliff overlooking an endless ocean. Always with that same warm look, like he knows me.

On the fifth night, I finally ask, “Who are you?”

His smile softens. “Hoseok. I… guard this place.”

“This place?”

“Your dreams.”

I laugh a little. “That’s not a real thing.”

He tilts his head. “You think nightmares disappear on their own?”

That night, I see it — the shadow. Tall, formless, dripping darkness. It slithers toward me across the dreamscape, the temperature dropping. Before I can move, Hoseok steps between us, his hands glowing with a soft, golden light.

The shadow hisses and melts away into nothing.

I’m shaking when he turns back to me. “See? You’re safer here with me.”

---

Weeks pass, and the dreams become the best part of my day.

Hoseok is funny in a gentle way, teasing but never cruel. He listens. He remembers every detail I tell him — the book I’m reading, the song stuck in my head, the way I like my coffee.

Sometimes we just walk, our fingers brushing until one of us is brave enough to take the other’s hand. Sometimes we sit by a fire he builds out of nothing, the flames throwing soft shadows across his face.

One night, I ask, “Do you… dream too?”

He hesitates. “Not the way you do. This is where I exist. I see the world through the people I protect.”

Something in my chest aches at that. “So you’re not… real?”

His hand cups my cheek, warm and solid. “I’m as real as you need me to be.”

---

The shadows get worse.

At first, it’s one or two a week. Now it’s every night — slithering, whispering, trying to pull me into the dark. Hoseok fights them off each time, but I can see it takes a toll. His shoulders are tenser. His smile fades quicker.

One night, after a fight that leaves him breathing hard, I grab his hand. “What happens if they win?”

His jaw tightens. “You don’t wake up.”

My stomach twists. “And you?”

“I disappear.”

The idea of never seeing him again hits harder than it should. Harder than it has any right to.

---

The night it happens, I know before I even see them. The air is colder, the dream sky darker.

Hoseok is already there, tense, his hand finding mine immediately. “Stay close to me.”

The shadows swarm, more than I’ve ever seen. They move like smoke and teeth, surrounding us. Hoseok’s glow flares brighter, but I can see it — he’s losing ground.

“Run,” he says.

“I’m not leaving you.”

His eyes meet mine, desperate. “You don’t understand. If you stay, they’ll take you too.”

“Then take me somewhere they can’t.”

Something shifts in his face, like he’s just realized something dangerous. “There is a way,” he says quietly. “But it means you won’t wake up. You’ll stay here. With me.”

The shadows are closing in. I can feel the cold seeping into my bones. “Is it safe?”

His hand squeezes mine. “Safer than anywhere else.”

I look at him — at the boy who’s been my anchor in this strange, impossible place. The one who’s made me feel seen in ways the waking world never has. And I know my answer.

“Do it.”

---

The world shifts instantly.

The cold fades, replaced by a warmth that sinks into my skin. The shadows vanish, and we’re standing in a sunlit meadow, the sky impossibly blue.

Hoseok’s hand is still in mine, but now there’s no tension in his grip — just a steady, grounding comfort.

“You’re here,” he says, almost like he can’t believe it.

“I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

He steps closer, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You know what this means, right?”

“That I’ll never wake up?”

“That you’re mine now,” he says softly, and before I can answer, his lips are on mine.

The kiss is slow at first, sweet and warm, but it deepens quickly, his hands sliding to my waist as I curl my arms around his neck. Everything feels sharper here — his breath against my lips, the heat of his body pressed to mine, the way my heart races.

When we finally pull back, I’m breathless, my forehead resting against his.

“So,” I murmur, “what now?”

He smiles, that bright, heart-melting smile I’ve come to crave. “Now we live.”

And in the dream world, with his hand in mine and the sun on our faces, I believe him.