The Grumpy Girlfriend Protection Program | One-shot
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre: sunshine bf x grumpy gf, golden retriever! jungkook, black cat! reader, office worker! reader, veterinary student! jungkook, fluff, comedy, thriller, mystery (slight), action, angst.
Summary: Jeon Jungkook has always been the sunshine in every room; warm, kind, and completely oblivious to danger. Luckily, you, his grumpy, overprotective girlfriend have made it your personal mission to keep him safe. But when the threat shifts to you instead, Jungkook proves that even sunshine can scorch—and for you, he’d burn.
Word count: 22.8k+
Warnings: reader is very protective, themes of stalking and obsession, usage of drugs (not reader or jungkook), fight scene, violence, multiple flashback scenes.
MOODBOARD
A/N: hugeeee thanks to my dear friend sy (@btswit7 ) for going through my fic and suggesting edits! ilysm. sorry this took so long for me to write. i swearrr this fic was supposed to be fluffy, cute and around 10k words but I got carried away 😔 (not sorry for that). i might've absolutely butchered the tattoo shop scene pls forgive me (I've never been to a tattoo shop before idk how it works) this is also my first time writing an action scene it prolly sucks but wtv.
The sun hung high in the cloudless sky, casting a golden glow over the city. A gentle breeze drifted through the streets, the warmth of the morning wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, just the right kind of day that practically demanded an escape from the ordinary. And what better way to spend it than sprawled out on a checkered blanket, a basket full of food beside you, and your ever-so-enthusiastic boyfriend, Jungkook, grinning at you like this was the best idea in the world?
That’s right. It was picnic day. After a gruelling week at work, all you wanted was to stay in bed, sleep until the afternoon, have a late lunch, and then (ideally) go right back to sleep. But Jungkook, being the ever-optimistic, early-rising, productivity-loving man that he was, thought weekends were best spent on morning picnic dates at whatever random park he had decided on that week.
There was nothing you hated more than disappointing your sweet boyfriend, so cancelling the picnic dates altogether wasn’t an option. After extensive negotiations (read: you groggily whining while he laughed and refused to budge), you managed to compromise—morning breakfast dates became brunch dates. Because let’s be real, every extra second of sleep counts.
On the way to your picnic, you were stopped by a teenage boy, probably 17 or 18, who practically shoved a clipboard into your faces. With the practised enthusiasm of a seasoned salesman, he introduced himself, flashing a grin as he extended a hand in greeting. Then came the pitch.
“Donations for a local animal shelter,” he announced, voice laced with urgency. A shelter you had never heard of.
“The puppies and bunnies are all sick, sir, and the kittens are underfed,” he continued, his face contorting with the sheer heartbreak of it all. The kind of expression that would probably work on unsuspecting souls. Jungkook, being Jungkook, was already pulling out his wallet. And you were having none of it.
Before he could hand over a single bill, you yanked the wallet straight out of his hands. Jungkook blinked at you, stunned.
“Did you even check if it’s a real shelter?” you asked, unimpressed.
Jungkook glanced at the boy, then back at you. “Looks pretty real to me.” You sighed, taking a look at the "official website" the scammer eagerly pulled up on his phone. One glance was all it took.
“That’s a Wix template, you dumbass,” you deadpanned, shooting Jungkook a look. And to drive your point home, you dialled the actual shelter’s number. A moment of silence.
Then, like clockwork, the boy’s phone started ringing. The scammer stiffened, eyes wide with panic. And then, without as much as another word, he bolted down the street before you could report him to someone.
Jungkook pouted, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. You rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe you almost fell for that.”
“One of these days,” he muttered, crossing his arms, “you’re gonna stop me from donating to a real shelter.” You snorted, nudging his shoulder as you started walking again. “Yeah, well, until that day comes, I’ll keep saving you from getting scammed by guys who probably spent five minutes on Google slapping together a fake charity.”
Jungkook huffed, kicking a loose pebble down the sidewalk. “He had a clipboard. People with clipboards always seem legit.”
“Oh, right, because clipboards are the universal sign of trustworthiness,” you deadpanned. “Next time, I’ll be sure to scam you with one myself.”
He shot you a playful glare. “I’d see through you in a second.” You smirked. “Would you, though?”
Jungkook opened his mouth, then shut it again, squinting at you like he wasn’t entirely convinced. You just grinned, patting his arm. “Exactly.”
You sit cross-legged on the checkered blanket, arms crossed, watching as Jungkook digs through the picnic basket like a child on Christmas morning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, pulling out sandwiches, fruit, and what looks like an obnoxiously yellow thermos you don’t remember packing.
You squint. “Did you sneak in banana milk?”
Jungkook pauses, looking entirely unrepentant. “No.” You stare. He stares back. The thermos stares between you, the undeniable evidence of his crime.
Finally, he grins. “Okay, maybe.”
You let out a slow exhale, reaching for one of the sandwiches while he happily pours himself a cup of his beloved banana milk.
“I don’t get how you function sometimes,” you mutter, unwrapping your food.
“I function beautifully,” he corrects, flashing you a smile that’s far too bright for someone who just lied to your face. “You’re just too grumpy to appreciate it.”
You roll your eyes. “Right. Because nothing screams ‘functioning adult’ like getting scammed five minutes before a picnic.” Jungkook gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “I was being charitable!”
“You were being a prime target,” you deadpan. He huffs dramatically, taking an exaggerated bite of his sandwich as if it’s the ultimate form of protest. Cheeks puffed out like a bunny, he mumbles through his mouthful, “You stress too much.”
You raise a brow. “I wonder why.” He ignores your sarcasm, swallowing before continuing, “Maybe if you—” He suddenly stops, mid-thought, his eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief.
Oh no. You’ve seen that look before. It never leads to anything good.
"You should feed me."
You nearly choke on your drink. Coughing, you set your cup down with a thud and blink at him. “What?” Jungkook leans forward, resting his chin in his palm with the most infuriatingly smug expression. “You know,” he drawls, wiggling his eyebrows, “since you like taking care of me so much.”
You stare at him, unamused. Then, without breaking eye contact, you take the smallest, most unimpressive bite of your sandwich—just to spite him.
Jungkook groans, slumping back. “You’re no fun.”
“You knew that when you fell in love with me.”
His lips curve into something thoughtful, eyes flickering over your face like he’s considering something. Then, in one swift motion, he reaches over and swipes a strawberry from your plate, popping it into his mouth before you can react.
You gasp. “Jungkook!”
He grins, entirely unapologetic. “Yeah, but I like a challenge.” Without hesitation, you swat his hand, aiming for another grab. He yelps, laughing too hard for someone who just got smacked, dodging your next attempt with the reflexes of a seasoned strawberry thief.
"Unbelievable," you mutter, shaking your head. "A menace to society."
Jungkook only grins wider. "And yet, you still love me."
And just like that, it’s the both of you, bickering, teasing, him being too soft, and you pretending you don’t secretly like it. Despite everything, you’re glad he dragged you here. Because for all his nonsense, for all the chaos he brings into your life, Jungkook makes the world a little brighter.
You hated Monday mornings with a burning passion. If you walked into work and saw someone being all cheerful and optimistic, you’d have the overwhelming urge to dump ice-cold coffee over their head, just to make their day as miserable as yours. Of course, you wouldn’t actually act on that particular intrusive thought. Not unless you had a sudden desire to get fired.
Every day, it was the same soul-sucking routine. Log into your computer, answer emails, prepare for meetings, and trudge through an endless list of mind-numbing tasks that make you question all your life choices. You were staring blankly at your screen, fingers moving mechanically as you typed up a report when your phone buzzed.
Kook 🐰💜 [11:10 AM]: Miss me yet?
Your fingers pause on the keyboard. Buzz.
Kook 🐰💜[11:10 AM]: Or are you too busy being all serious and grumpy at work?
Kook 🐰💜[11:11 AM]: Bet you’re smiling right now, though.
You bite your lip. You are not smiling. Absolutely not.
“Okay, what is that face?”
Jimin’s voice cuts through your concentration like a knife. You snap your head up to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed, a knowing smirk already in place.
“There is no face,” you say quickly, locking your phone screen and shoving it away. Jimin gasps dramatically. “Oh my God, it’s him, isn’t it?”
You groan, rubbing your temples. “I swear to—”
“Ohhh, it totally is!” Jimin snatches your phone before you can react, scrolling through the notifications like he has every right to be nosy.
If there’s one person who never lets you live in peace, it’s Jimin. Coworker, best friend, professional pain in your ass, he’s all of the above, wrapped in a smug little package. You first met him when you started this job, and somehow, between the forced team projects, shared complaints about the boss, and mutual hatred for monday mornings, you ended up stuck with him for life. Not that you’d ever admit you’re grateful for it.
Unfortunately, he knows it anyway.
“Jimin, I will end you.”
But it’s too late. He’s already grinning like the devil himself. “Look at you. Getting all giddy over a text. My, my, how the mighty have fallen.”
“I’m not giddy.”
“Oh, you absolutely are.” He mimics your earlier expression, clutching his phone to his chest with a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Jungkook, my sweet precious sunshine, text me more. I can’t possibly get through this workday without knowing you’re thinking about me.”
You throw a stapler at him.
He dodges effortlessly, laughing. “Relax, lover girl. It’s cute. Gross, but cute.” You huff, snatching your phone back. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Jimin plops down in the chair next to you, still smirking. “Now tell me, what’s golden boy up to?”
You stare at the screen for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you eventually settle on a simple reply.
You [11:14 AM: Okay.
…Okay, maybe you are smiling a little.
Jimin sees it immediately. And you already know you’re never going to hear the end of it.
The moment you step into the break room—finally free from Jimin’s relentless smirking, you let out a breath and pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent calls before dialling Jungkook. It barely rings twice before he picks up, his voice warm and teasing, like he already knew you’d call.
“Hey, baby,” he greets smoothly, amusement lacing his tone. “Miss me already?”
You roll your eyes, setting your lunchbox on the table with a thud. “In your dreams, Jeon.”
Flipping open the lid, the rich, savoury aroma of bibimbap immediately washes over you. The vibrant colors of the ingredients are neatly arranged, looking almost too perfect to eat—almost. You can tell Jungkook took his time making it, carefully placing each topping exactly where it should be, ensuring it looked as good as it tasted.
Your heart does something traitorous in your chest, but you ignore it. Jungkook chuckles at your silence, clearly pleased with himself. “I assume this is your way of telling me my cooking is amazing?”
“Not even close,” you say, grabbing your chopsticks. “Jimin wouldn’t shut up about you, so I figured I’d call and annoy you instead.” A deep, rumbling laugh comes through the speaker, the sound sending warmth curling through your stomach. “Mhm. Sure, love. You could’ve just admitted you wanted to hear my voice.”
Your eye twitches. “That’s not—”
“Shh, no need to be shy. I won’t judge.” You groan, tilting your head back against the chair, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. He’s impossible, and worse, he knows it.
“Whatever,” you mutter. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Mmm.” There’s some shuffling on his end, followed by the faint rustling of sheets like he’s lying down and getting comfortable. “I was thinking… instead of our usual park picnic, you could come with me to get my sleeve reworked.” That makes you pause, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice a little more casual. “It’s been a while, and I wanna touch up some parts. Maybe add something new.”
You lean back in your chair, considering it. You’ve seen his tattoos up close plenty of times—traced them absentmindedly, let your fingers follow the inked lines whenever he had an arm wrapped around you. There’s something mesmerizing about them, the way they flow seamlessly over his skin, each design an intricate part of him.
You definitely wouldn’t mind watching the process.
“That’s fine with me,” you say after a beat. Then, under your breath, you mumble, “But if the artist messes up, I’m fighting them.” Jungkook snorts. “Of course you will.” His voice takes on that teasing lilt that makes you want to reach through the phone and flick his forehead. “You’re so cute when you get all protective.”
Your face heats up instantly. “Oh my god, eat your lunch.”
“I will. But only if you say you love me first.” You nearly choke. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” His grin is obvious, even through the phone. “Say it, and I’ll go eat.” You huff, glancing around the empty break room just to make sure no one’s around. Then, in the lowest possible whisper, you mumble, “…Love you.”
A beat of silence.
And then, even quieter, “Love your bibimbap too.”
Jungkook hums, unreasonably satisfied. “Love you too, baby. Now go eat before Jimin catches you blushing.” Your eyes widen, and you hang up immediately.
Unfortunately, when you turn around, Jimin is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking far too smug for your liking.
“So,” he drawls, tilting his head. “How’s Jungkook?” You groan, slamming your head onto the table. You are never going to live this down.
Jimin’s laughter echoes in the room, pure evil.
Jungkook’s apartment is the kind of place that makes it dangerously easy to never leave. It’s cozy with warm lighting, soft blankets draped over the couch, and the faint scent of vanilla and fabric softener lingering in the air. You tell yourself that’s the main reason you always find yourself here instead of your own place, but, if you were being completely honest, there are a few other factors at play.
For one, his snack collection is legendary. His kitchen cabinets are stocked with an endless supply of goodies, including a lifetime’s worth of Twinkies, your weakness. And then there’s Jungkook himself, but you’re not about to admit that. Especially not to him.
Curled up on his couch, you lazily flip through his Netflix, eyes scanning titles without really registering any of them. The ambient noise of the apartment, the hum of the heater, the occasional rustling of pages from Jungkook’s workspace, only adds to the drowsy comfort settling over you. Just as you’re about to give up on finding something to watch, Jungkook suddenly plops down beside you, sketchbook in hand.
The cushion dips under his weight, and you barely manage to suppress a startled flinch. He doesn’t say anything at first, just leans back against the couch with a content sigh, flipping the sketchbook open across his lap. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, curiosity piqued despite yourself. "Okay," he says, grinning as he settles beside you on the couch. His fingers drum against the edge of his sketchbook before he flips it open, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "Wanna see what I’ve been working on?"
You nod, humming in interest. "Mhm. Sure."
The moment the pages spread out before you, your breath catches. Intricate designs fill the book, some half-finished, others shaded to perfection. There are fine, precise lines, bold strokes, and an almost obsessive attention to detail in every drawing. You can tell he's poured hours into this, into crafting something that isn’t just art but a reflection of himself.
"Damn," you murmur, fingertips tracing lightly over the paper. "You did all these?" Jungkook grins, his dimples making an appearance. "Yup," he says, clearly pleased with your reaction.
You take your time flipping through the pages. There’s a sketch of a skeletal hand doing the rock on sign, a detailed microphone showcasing his love for music, lyrics from his favorite songs inked in elegant script, and the word Bulletproof scrawled in a graffiti style, right beneath it, a note written in his unmistakable handwriting: cover-up for eye tattoo. And then, sitting proudly in between these edgy, personal pieces, is a woozy face emoji.
You huff out a small laugh. His tattoo ideas range from deeply meaningful to outright ridiculous.
But then you pause. Nestled between his designs is a rework of his tiger lily tattoo—his birth flower. But entwined around it, curling gracefully between the petals, is another flower. Chrysanthemums.
Your birth flower.
The realization sinks in, slow and warm. Jungkook goes still beside you, barely breathing. You don’t miss the way his fingers twitch, or the way his ears turn bright red when he realizes that you understood. Then, like a man caught in the act he snatches the sketchbook away, snapping it shut so fast you barely have time to process it.
"Aha—! Anyway—" He clears his throat, ears burning. "That one wasn’t, uh—I wasn’t supposed to show you that yet."
Your lips twitch. "Mhm. Jeon, I see what you did there."
"What?" he says too quickly. "It’s just, you know, it looked nice with the lilies." His voice cracks. You arch a brow. "Looks nice? That’s all?" Jungkook nods a little too fast. "Yeah. No big deal."
You don’t believe him for a second.
So, naturally, you lean in, lowering your voice just enough to watch him squirm."You sure about that, baby?"
Jungkook.exe has stopped working.
With a groan, he buries his burning face into your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent against your sweater. You laugh, warmth blooming in your chest, fingers threading absentmindedly through his hair. Yeah. No big deal.
The weekend sun was just beginning to climb when Jungkook pulled up outside your place, the low hum of his car engine a familiar sound by now. You barely had time to lock your door before he leaned over, effortlessly pushing the passenger door open with that usual bright grin of his. “Morning, baby,” he greeted, fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. Without missing a beat, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek—warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You sleep well?”
You slid into the seat, closing the door behind you with a huff, eyes narrowing at him. “No, because someone was blowing up my phone with memes and ‘fun facts’ about toxic tattoo inks at two in the morning.” Jungkook had the audacity to look proud. “I just thought you should know! What if they use cheap ink, huh? Gotta protect this masterpiece.” He gestured vaguely at his arm, where his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt.
You sighed, clicking your seatbelt into place. “Just drive.”
As he shifted gears and pulled onto the road, you let your gaze wander around the car, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne, the faint hum of the engine, and the steady rhythm of the music playing low through the speakers. His hand, warm and absentminded, found its usual place on your thigh like it belonged there, thumb tracing gentle patterns against your skin. It was peaceful. The kind of easy, comfortable silence that only came from knowing someone so well.
But then, something caught your attention.
Your eyes drifted to the backseat, where his sketchbook sat, slightly ajar as if hastily tossed there. A few loose sheets stuck out from the pages, filled with the intricate designs you’d seen before. You reached for it instinctively, but before you could grab it, the scenery outside made you pause.
“...Wait.” Your brows furrowed as you looked out the window. The streets weren’t familiar, the route different from what you expected. You turned back to him. “This isn’t the way to your usual place.” Jungkook hummed, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. “We’re trying a new one today.”
You turned to him, suspicious. “Why?”
His grin widened, full of mischief. “Jin got a job there.” That took you a second to process. “Seokjin?”
“My cousin, yeah.” Jungkook drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “He’s a receptionist now. Lured me in with staff discounts.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “So, let me get this straight—he got a job there yesterday, and today you’re already showing up to cash in?” Jungkook gasped, all faux offense, clutching his chest as if you’d just wounded him. “I would never use my dear cousin like that.”
You gave him a deadpan look.
His lips twitched, the act crumbling instantly. “…Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, flashing you a boyish grin. “But hey, cheaper tattoos, and I get to support my hyung? Win-win.” You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the amused smile pulling at your lips. “Does he even know we’re coming?”
“He does,” Jungkook replied, his grin not fading. “He actually told me to wait for him before I get started with the consultation.”
And that’s how you and Jungkook ended up stuck in the lobby of the tattoo shop, waiting for over thirty minutes for Jin to show up.
Jungkook exhaled loudly, rolling his shoulders before pulling out his phone and dialing Jin for the sixth time. His other hand absentmindedly tugged you closer by the wrist, a small, unconscious habit of his whenever he was growing impatient. “Jin said he’d be here soon,” he muttered, eyes flickering to the entrance yet again, as if willing his cousin to walk through the door. “Told me to get comfy and wait.”
You smirked, shifting slightly in your seat. “He did? So, naturally, he’s gonna be late.” Jungkook groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “He promised, okay? Swore he wouldn’t ditch me this time.”
“That’s cute.” You patted his thigh mockingly. “You still believe him.” Jungkook shot you a halfhearted glare before flicking his gaze to the empty reception area for what had to be the hundredth time. His foot bounced impatiently against the floor, but before he could make another complaint, the sound of a door opening drew both of your attention.
A woman with sleek, silver-dyed hair emerged from one of the back rooms, her sharp gaze scanning the lobby before landing directly on Jungkook. Her expression immediately shifted into a perfected customer-service smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. “What are you here for?”
“Sleeve rework,” he replied casually, rolling his shoulder as if to emphasize the ink beneath his sleeve. “You’re the one getting the sleeve reworked?” she asked smoothly, completely ignoring your presence. “Seokjin’s cousin, right?
Jungkook nodded, his own expression polite but confused. “Yeah, but he isn’t here yet. Jin told me to wai—”
“Oh,” she cut in, her lips curving just slightly, a little too knowing. “Well, that’s okay. I’m sure he would’ve referred you to me anyway. I could start taking care of you now.”
Something about the way she said it made your jaw clench.
Jungkook, oblivious as ever, only hummed. “Uh, I mean… I guess we could start the consultation?”
You didn’t like the way she was looking at him.
As she moved closer, the glow of the overhead light caught on her name tag—Nari. The name meant nothing to you, but something about her demeanor put you on edge.
Jungkook settled into the chair, stretching his arm out as Nari prepped her station. You remained seated across from him, phone in hand, pretending to scroll while keeping a close eye on the exchange. Nari pulled on a pair of gloves, her movements fluid and practiced as she leaned in, examining Jungkook’s inked skin. “Your ink is solid,” she murmured, fingers ghosting over the intricate designs. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”
Jungkook grinned, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Yeah, my old artist was great. Just wanted some refinements, you know?”
“Mm,” Nari hummed in agreement, grabbing a marker to outline a few areas. Her gaze lingered on his arm longer than necessary, her lips curving slightly. “You’re adding new work too, right?”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, just some floral details around the tiger lily.”
That was supposed to be the end of it. But then Nari tilted her head, eyes flickering up to his face before dropping back to his arm, and subtly, but not subtly enough she licked her lips.
“I love doing florals on guys,” she said, voice dipping into something softer. “There’s just something about the contrast, you know?”
Your grip on your phone tightened. Jungkook, completely unaware of the shift in tone, simply lifted his arm to show her the faded edges. “Yeah, I wanted to add some chrysanthe—”
Before he could even finish, Nari reached out, fingers wrapping around his arm, her touch lingering.
“Oh, your skin is so nice,” she murmured, smoothing her fingers over the defined muscle as if she were admiring it rather than prepping it for work. Your eye twitched.
Jungkook blinked, a little startled by the comment but still too polite to pull away. “Uh… thanks?” Nari only smiled, nails grazing his forearm ever so slightly as she adjusted his position. “Good canvas makes all the difference.”
You swore you could hear your patience snapping like a twig. Jungkook looked slightly uncomfortable but still handed over his sketchbook, flipping to the page with his design. “This is what I had in mind for the rework,” he said, tapping the paper.
Nari barely glanced at the intricate details before tilting her head, her gaze flickering back to him instead. “You drew this yourself?”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah.”
“Wow,” she hummed, leaning in slightly, the corner of her lips quirking up. “That’s impressive. Not many clients walk in with this level of detail.” From where you sat, you rested your chin on your hand, unimpressed.
Jungkook offered a small, polite smile. “I just like having a clear idea before I commit.” Nari's smirk deepened. “That’s really attractive,” she mused, fingers skimming the edge of the sketchbook instead of actually turning the page. “A guy who’s artistic and decisive? Rare find.”
You blinked. What.
Jungkook cleared his throat, shifting in his seat like he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Uh… thanks?” Nari finally flipped to the next page—though at this point, it felt more like a courtesy than genuine interest. “And you did all of these?”
Jungkook nodded again. “Mhm.”
“That’s insane,” she gushed, dragging her fingers over the lines like they were worth framing. “You could easily be a tattoo artist yourself.” Jungkook chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think I have the patience for it.”
“That’s a shame,” Nari sighed, her fingers lingering a little too long on the sketchbook. “With hands like yours, I bet you’d be amazing at it.”
Your expression went flat. Jungkook just coughed into his fist, visibly flustered. “Uh—”
You snapped before you could stop yourself. “If you’re done with the consultation, I think you should get started with the sketching.” Your voice was even, but the words were clipped. “Unless this is just a fan club meeting now.”
That made Nari pause.
Jungkook turned to you, lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh. Nari dared to send you a sharp glare, like you had just interrupted something sacred. But she grabbed a fineliner anyway, her movements slow and deliberate, as if making a point.
You didn’t waver. Arms crossed, you kept your gaze locked on her hands, watching every unnecessary adjustment she made—each one turning into soft, lingering touches against Jungkook’s skin. It was infuriating, the way her fingers skimmed his arm like she had every right to.
And then she bit her lip.
A coy smile played at the edges of her mouth, subtle but unmistakable. Jungkook, completely oblivious as always, remained relaxed in the chair, only wincing slightly when the cold surface of the fineliner pressed against his skin.
You were far from relaxed.
Shifting in your seat, you clenched your jaw, fingers curling against your arms. Maybe—maybe—she was just a touchy person. Maybe you were overanalyzing this. Maybe it was nothing.
“So,” Nari began, her voice light and conversational, “do all your tattoos have a meaning?” Jungkook, still staring at the ceiling like this was any other consultation, nodded. “Most of them, yeah.”
“What about this one?” She tapped the tiger lily, her fingertips trailing over the ink just a little too leisurely. Jungkook smiled, unaware of the way your patience was fraying. “That one represents passion, confidence… all that stuff. It’s also my birth flower”
Nari hummed, like she was committing that information to memory. “And the chrysanthemums?”
At this, Jungkook hesitated. For the first time, he flicked his gaze toward you, something unreadable passing through his eyes. Your posture stiffened, waiting. He cleared his throat. “They mean a lot to me.”
Nari tilted her head, expectant.
You leaned forward, expectant.
But Jungkook just chuckled lightly before answering, “They’re my girlfriend’s birth flower.” His tone was proud, almost smug, as if relishing the chance to say it out loud. A smirk tugged at your lips. That should be enough to shut this down, enough for her to finally get the message—
Except Nari barely reacted.
If anything, she just hummed again, dragging her eyes across his arm like she hadn’t even heard him. “Hm. Bet they’d look really pretty on you,” she mused, her tone as sweet as syrup. Then, without missing a beat, she added, “Then again, I bet a lot of things do.”
Your head snapped up. Jungkook tensed slightly but played it off with an awkward laugh. “Uh… thanks?”
Oh, hell no.
Maybe it was the way she said it. The way her voice dripped with something just a little too sweet, like she wasn’t just appreciating his tattoos but the person wearing them. Maybe it was the fact that her fingers were still lightly dragging along his forearm, slow and deliberate, like she had every right to touch him like that. Or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that Jungkook, ever polite, ever oblivious, wasn’t saying anything to stop her. Either way, your patience is officially gone.
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, voice smooth but sharp enough to cut. “So, is this your usual customer service?” you asked, tilting your head. “Or is my boyfriend just getting the VIP treatment?”
Nari barely spared you a glance. “Oh, don’t worry. I take very good care of my clients.” Your smile was saccharine, all teeth. “I bet you do.”
Jungkook shifted, fingers gripping the armrest as if bracing himself. “Baby—” You ignored him. “I thought professionalism was a basic requirement for tattoo artists. But I guess it’s optional here, huh?”
Nari’s smirk twitched, but she held her ground. “I’m just making conversation.”
“Right.” You nodded slowly, voice dripping with faux understanding. “Because flirting with your client while his girlfriend is sitting right here is so normal.”
Jungkook, bless his clueless heart, looked between the two of you like he’d just walked into a battlefield with no armor. His lips parted—he should say something, anything, should try to calm you down before things escalated, but the words never came.
Because truth be told, seeing you like this, so protective and so fierce was kind of hot.
Nari’s eyes narrowed, her confidence flickering just a little. “I wasn’t flirting.” You let out a mock gasp, pressing a hand over your chest in exaggerated horror. “Oh, my bad.” Your tone was syrupy, dripping with fake innocence. “I must have misheard when you basically drooled over my boyfriend while I was sitting right here.”
Nari let out a sharp huff, her irritation finally surfacing. She set the fineliner down with a little too much force, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and condescension. “Look, do you want me to finish this or not?”
You opened your mouth, already armed with a sharp retort—
“No.”
Jungkook’s voice cut through the air, calm but unwavering.
Nari blinked. “What?”
Jungkook rolled his shoulder back as he sat up straighter, his usual easygoing expression replaced with something unreadable. “I’ll get it done somewhere else.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Seriously? Just because she’s insecure?”
Oh. That did it. A slow, burning heat unfurled in your chest. The audacity, the sheer nerve to say something like that when she had been the one crossing every possible line. You barely registered standing up, only aware of the way your pulse pounded in your ears as you took a step forward.
“Excuse me?”
But before you could let loose, Jungkook was already moving. His hand found yours, his grip warm and steady as he gently pulled you back. “Let’s go,” he murmured, his voice low but insistent. Nari rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair like she couldn’t care less. “Your loss.” Jungkook didn’t bother responding. He just grabbed his jacket, intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you out of the shop without a single backward glance.
The second the door shut behind you, the tension that had been coiling in your muscles finally snapped.
“I swear—” you started, still fuming, but Jungkook sighed, squeezing your hand in his. “I know, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the warmth of it cutting right through your frustration. “I know.”
You exhaled sharply. “She was touching you.” Jungkook let out a low chuckle, rubbing his temple. “I literally had no idea she was flirting.”
“You never do.”
That earned you a grin. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, leaning down just enough that his nose nearly brushed yours. His eyes locked onto yours with a familiar fondness. “But you do.” His voice was teasing, but there was something else there too. Something softer. Something that made your breath catch, just a little.
You scowled, but he just wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Jealous?” he teased. You scoffed.
His smile turned fond. “Cute.” You smacked his chest. “Shut up.”
Jungkook barely flinched at the hit, his grin only widening. He tightened his hold around your waist, pulling you in until there was hardly any space left between you. “That’s not a no,” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your stomach flutter. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your chin up defiantly. “I wasn’t jealous.”
Jungkook hummed, unconvinced. His fingers skimmed over the small of your back, the touch light but deliberate. “Mhm. Sure.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. “She was unprofessional.”
“True.”
“And disrespectful.”
“Very.”
“And her eyeliner was uneven.”
Jungkook snorted, finally breaking into a full laugh. “Okay, now you’re just being mean.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the way he was looking at you, like you were the most amusing thing in the world made your face heat up. His laughter faded into something softer, something unbearably fond. “You know you’re cute when you’re all worked up, right?”
You scowled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I said shut up.” Jungkook grinned, catching your hand with ease before lacing his fingers through yours. “Make me.”
Your breath hitched. His gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest second, and suddenly, the air between you shifted—
“You guys done with the tattoo already?”
A loud, familiar voice shattered the moment like glass hitting the pavement.
Both you and Jungkook turned your heads in unison, only to find Jin standing a few feet away, looking between the two of you with an expression far too amused for your liking. Jungkook groaned, running a hand down his face. “Hyung, seriously?”
Jin blinked. “What? I was just asking.” His gaze flickered over Jungkook’s arm, eyes narrowing as he took in the faint ink lines still marking his skin—the rough sketch of the tattoo, untouched by the needle. His brows furrowed.
“Wait. You didn’t actually get it done?”
Jungkook huffed, crossing his arms. “No. Because the tattooo artist was too busy flirting with me.”
Jin’s face twisted in confusion. “Huh?”
You, still somewhat bristling from the whole ordeal, rolled your eyes. “She was all over him. Barely even looked at his designs before trying to eye-fuck him.” JIn’s jaw dropped. “Wait, are you serious?”
Jungkook nodded, his expression flat. “Dead serious.” Jin winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I had no idea she was like that.”
At least he had the decency to look sorry.
Jin sighed, rubbing his temple dramatically. “Alright, fine. Since I unknowingly threw you both into the lion’s den, I owe you.” He clapped his hands together. “Lunch is on me.” Jungkook raised a brow. “You? Paying for food? Willingly?”
Jin scoffed. “I can be generous, you know.”
You snorted. “That’s new.”
Jin ignored you. “Come on, let’s eat. My treat. Think of it as compensation for the mess I accidentally dropped you into.”
Jungkook hummed, pretending to consider. “I mean… if you’re paying, I’m definitely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”
Jin rolled his eyes. “As if you wouldn’t do that anyway.”
Jungkook just grinned. “True.”
You laughed, your earlier irritation melting away. “Alright, fine. You’re forgiven. But only if I get to pick the place.” Jin groaned. “Why do I feel like I’m about to regret this?” Jungkook laced his fingers through yours, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Because you probably will.”
Jin sighed but motioned for you both to follow. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” With that, the three of you headed off, leaving the unpleasant encounter behind in favor of good food.
Nari leaned against the counter, arms folded tight as she glared out the shop’s large window. Outside, you stood near the curb, your gaze fixed on Jungkook and Jin as they chatted. You weren’t speaking, just watching with that quiet, unreadable expression. But somehow, that made Nari even angrier.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.
“What is?”
The question came lazily from the man who had just strolled up beside her. He shook out his wrists after finishing with his last client, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. His attention remained casual, uninterested until Nari gestured toward the window with a sharp tilt of her chin.
“Her.”
His eyes followed her gaze. His posture was still loose, still easygoing until he saw you. For the briefest moment, his entire body went rigid. His casual demeanor cracked, just slightly, before he smoothed it over with a slow smirk.
“Huh.”
Nari, oblivious to the shift, let out a scoff. “She threw a whole fit because I was being nice to her boyfriend. Completely embarrassed me in front of him and acted all possessive, like I was some kind of threat.” She tapped her nails against the counter, still glaring at you through the window. “And now, thanks to her little tantrum, he refuses to get his tattoo done here.”
The man hummed, tilting his head. “Jealous girlfriend type, huh?”
“Exactly.” Nari huffed before turning to him with a slow, calculating smile. “You’re good at handling people, right?” He lifted a brow. “Depends on what you mean by ‘handling.’”
She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Do you think you could… I don’t know, do something about her? Save Jungkook from her?” For a moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze flicked back toward the window, settling this time on Jungkook himself.
And just like that, his smirk thinned.
Jungkook stood beside Jin, hands in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he listened to whatever Jin was rambling about. But every so often, his attention shifted to you. The way his fingers brushed absently over your back, the way his expression softened whenever he glanced your way, like keeping you close was second nature.
The man’s fingers curled into a fist. “Figures,” he muttered under his breath.
Nari frowned. “You know him?” A sharp exhale. A shake of his head. “Not personally. But I know of him.”
She perked up at that, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?”
His tongue ran over his teeth, jaw working as he leaned against the counter. When he spoke again, his smirk had returned but there was nothing amused about it. “Let’s just say… I have unfinished business with her.”
Nari blinked at that, lips parting slightly as she took in the underlying venom in his tone. Then, as if catching on, she let out a slow, delighted hum. “Well then,” she murmured, turning back to the window, watching you through narrowed eyes. “Wouldn’t it be fun to mess with her a little?”
His gaze never left you. He watched as Jungkook reached out, tugging the sleeve of your jacket into place with an unconscious sort of familiarity, the kind that spoke of years spent together.
The kind of familiarity that should have been his.
The corner of his lips lifted, the smirk sharpening into something colder. “Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was smooth and teasing, laced with something far more sinister.
“I’d love to.”
You groggily blink your eyes open, immediately regretting it as the soft glow of the morning filters through your curtains. Too bright. Too early. Too… awake. You bury your face into your pillow, grumbling incoherently, unwilling to leave the comforting warmth of your bed. It’s Sunday. A day meant for sleeping in, doing absolutely nothing, and ignoring all responsibilities.
Then, you feel it—the weight of an arm loosely draped over your waist, the warmth seeping through your thin shirt. Your sleep-addled brain takes a moment to process before it clicks. Jungkook.
Right. He stayed over last night.
A sleepy sigh escapes your lips as you shift slightly, pressing closer to his warmth. His scent lingers on your sheets, wrapping around you like a second blanket. You peek up, still half-asleep, and catch the sight of him lying beside you, propped up on one elbow, his phone held in his free hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminates his face, casting delicate shadows over his sharp jawline. He’s already awake, completely engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through.
Too awake for your liking.
“Five more minutes,” you mumble sleepily, voice muffled against the pillow. Your words slur together, more of a plea than a statement, as you instinctively nuzzle into Jungkook’s chest, seeking warmth.
A deep chuckle rumbles from him, low and fond, the kind that makes your heart squeeze without permission. His arm tightens around you in response, fingers lazily tracing light circles against your back. “Five more minutes? Baby, you said that like… an hour ago.”
You don’t respond, only snuggling deeper into his embrace, fully intent on ignoring him. Jungkook exhales dramatically, an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. “You’re gonna sleep the whole day away.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You’re literally wasting the morning.”
“Mm,” you hum noncommittally. “Not wasting if I’m warm and comfortable.” Jungkook pokes your cheek, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tries to stir you. “C’mon, let’s go out. We could get breakfast, maybe go on a walk—”
“No.” You blindly swat his hand away.
Jungkook groans, flopping onto his back in frustration. “Why did I fall for someone lazier than me?” You crack one eye open, just enough to see his pout. Smirking, you shift slightly and mumble into the pillow, “Because I’m cute.”
Jungkook huffs. “…I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point.”
Jungkook finally manages to wrangle you out of bed—a feat that takes a ridiculous amount of whining, bribing, and sheer force of will. He practically drags you across the apartment, his grip firm around your wrist, ignoring every single one of your grumbles and half-hearted protests.
“You are,” you mumble as he steers you into the kitchen, “the absolute worst.” Jungkook snorts, already rummaging through the cabinets for coffee beans. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to let you rot in bed for eternity?”
“Yes.”
Jungkook ignores you, expertly working the coffee machine like a man on a mission. You slump against the counter, still half-asleep, head lolling dramatically to the side as you watch him move around like an overly energetic golden retriever. Then, your phone buzzes on the counter. You lazily glance at the screen, skimming the weather forecast—
Rain incoming.
Your spine straightens, sleepiness vanishing in an instant as you whip your phone up to show Jungkook, shoving the screen in his face with an almost evil sort of glee. “Oh no~” you sing-song, tone dripping with faux disappointment. “Looks like we can’t go out.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow as he squints at the screen, reading the forecast. His expression quickly morphs from mild confusion to full-blown horror. “…It wasn’t supposed to rain today,” he says slowly, almost like he can will the reality away.
“Guess we have to stay in.” You sigh dramatically, clutching your chest like it pains you. “Damn. What a shame.”
Jungkook groans, slumping against the counter like his entire soul has left his body. His dreams of a fun, eventful day were shattered. “You’re lying,” he accuses weakly. “This is a personal attack.”
You shake your head, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I don’t control the weather, baby.”
Jungkook glares. “But if you could, you’d make it rain every day, wouldn’t you?” A smirk tugs at your lips. “Absolutely.”
Jungkook throws his head back with a dramatic, suffering groan, sliding down the counter like a man defeated. You watch him in amusement, lifting the coffee cup he had just made for himself and taking a slow, satisfied sip. The moment the taste hits your tongue, Jungkook’s entire body snaps upright.
He watches, utterly betrayed, as you lower the cup with a pleased hum.
“…Did you just steal my coffee?”
You blink at him, all innocence. “You made this for me, didn’t you?”
Jungkook scoffs, expression scandalized. “No! I made it for me!”
You shrug, taking another sip as you meet his glare with zero remorse. “Tastes great, babe. Thanks.”
Jungkook clutches his chest like you’ve personally wounded him. “You’re the actual worst.”
“And yet,” you hum, leaning against the counter with a satisfied smirk, “here you are, hopelessly in love with me.”
Jungkook stares at you for a long second, lips pursed. Then, without warning, he lunges. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you with ridiculous ease and tossing you over his shoulder.
“JUNGKOOK—”
“NOPE,” he interrupts, already marching towards the living room. “If I can’t have fun outside, I’m gonna make you suffer with me inside.” You kick your feet uselessly, fists pounding against his back as he effortlessly carries you away. “Put me down, you muscle bunny!”
Jungkook only laughs, completely unfazed, before spinning on his heel and tossing you onto the couch like you weigh nothing. You land with a soft ‘oof,’ bouncing slightly against the cushions as he flops down beside you, stretching out like a starfish. “You are so dramatic,” you grumble, attempting to shove him away with your foot.
Jungkook just grins, easily catching your ankle and tugging you closer instead. “And yet, you love me anyway.”
You huff, too lazy to argue.
Before you can protest further, he shifts, rolling onto his side and resting his head comfortably on your lap. His eyes flutter shut almost instantly, his breath evening out as he settles in like he belongs there. At first, you stiffen, but as the seconds pass, your fingers instinctively weave through his soft, dark hair. You barely even realize you’re doing it, the motion coming as naturally as breathing.
Jungkook hums at the feeling, half-conscious, but content. His face is completely relaxed and unguarded in a way that makes your chest ache. He looked so soft like this. So warm. So… safe. And something deep inside you just melts.
Your fingers slow, combing gently through the strands, nails lightly scratching his scalp. A soft scowl tugs at your lips. Because this? This is a version of Jungkook you’d fight the entire world to protect.
Jungkook must feel your gaze because, after a moment, he cracks one eye open and peeks up at you. “You’re staring,” he murmurs, voice still laced with sleep. You blink, quickly masking your expression with a huff. To cover up the warmth creeping up your neck, you flick his forehead. “Just making sure you’re still breathing.”
Jungkook snickers, stretching lazily. “Aww, are you worried about me?”
You cross your arms, unimpressed. “Obviously. You’re fragile.”
Jungkook immediately bursts out laughing, full-bodied and carefree, his entire frame shaking against your lap. “Me? Fragile? Baby, I could bench press you.”
You roll your eyes, completely unfazed. “Yeah, well, I could stab someone for you.”
Jungkook’s laughter dies instantly. His eyes widen slightly, blinking up at you as if processing your words. Then, ever so slowly, a grin spreads across his face.
“…Okay, that’s really hot.”
You scoff, flicking his forehead again. “Pervert.”
Jungkook just smirks, completely shameless. “What can I say? I like my girlfriend a little unhinged.” You roll your eyes, but before you can retort, a deep rumble of thunder echoes outside.
Jungkook groans, throwing an arm over his face. “Great. So we really are stuck inside all day.”
You don’t even bother hiding your glee. “Tragic.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Jungkook shifts, burying his face into your stomach like a sulking puppy. You try to shove him off, but he only clings harder, grumbling nonsense against your his hoodie.
“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur, fingers idly threading through his hair again. Eventually, he shifts, lifting his head to look at you properly. His expression softens laced with something so fond it makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t say anything. Just laces his fingers through yours, absentmindedly tracing patterns against your palm.
Then, suddenly there's a sharp poke to your side and you jolt with a squawk, trying to wiggle away. “Jungkook!” He grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If we’re staying in, we should do something.”
You glare at him, still half-prepared to smack him upside the head. “Like what?”
His smirk deepens. “You know exactly what.” For a second, you just stare at him. He stares back.Then, without breaking eye contact—he grabs the game controllers.
Jungkook’s sunshine boyfriend energy disappears the second the race countdown starts. Gone is the sweet, cuddly man who had been wrapped around you like a koala just minutes ago, now, he’s leaning forward, brows furrowed, fully in the zone.
“Loser does the dishes in both apartments,” he announces, rolling his shoulders like he’s prepping for war. You scoff, cracking your knuckles for dramatic effect. “You’re about to regret that.”
The moment Lakitu drops the starting light, Jungkook launches forward like he’s been possessed by the spirit of every pro gamer ever. Meanwhile, you barely get past the first turn without slamming into the barrier. You spam every single item box you can get your hands on, determined to take him down with sheer pettiness if not skill.
Then there’s a miracle. Jungkook is just about to cross the finish line when you hit him with a perfectly timed blue shell.
BOOM.
His character spirals into the air, crashing down just inches from victory. You zoom past him at the last second.
“IN YOUR FACE, JEON.” You throw your arms up like you just won an Olympic gold medal. Jungkook stares at the screen in stunned silence. Then, slowly he turns to you. You suddenly get the feeling you’ve made a terrible mistake.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, cracking his knuckles. “No more playing nice.”
The next race starts and you get absolutely destroyed.
Jungkook goes full demon mode, drifting around corners with terrifying precision, dodging every single attack like he can see the future. He launches red shells, banana peels, lightning bolts— you don’t even know how he’s getting this many power-ups.
It’s a massacre. One round. Two rounds. Three. You lose every single one. By the end, your controller is nearly embedded into your palm from how tightly you’re gripping it. Jungkook, on the other hand, is lounging back against the couch, arms stretched behind his head, smug as hell.
He tilts his head, smirking. “Do you yield?”
You scowl. “I hope you step on a Lego.”
Jungkook just laughs, grabbing your wrist and yanking you into his lap before you can escape. The controllers are discarded, forgotten as you end up tangled together on the couch. His arms snake around your waist, holding you in place as you halfheartedly struggle.
Then—he boops your nose.
You blink. Once. Twice. Then groan, flopping dramatically against his chest. “I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about you.”
Jungkook only hums, smug and unbothered. “Even though you lost, I still think you’re the cutest.”
You smack his arm. “I will actually fight you.”
“Mm. As long as it’s not in Mario Kart, I like my chances.”
Jungkook’s phone buzzes against the coffee table, the vibration cutting through the comfortable silence. He lazily reaches for it, glancing at the screen. His brows knit together for a second before his face smooths over into a grin.
“Oh, my mom’s planning a family dinner. She wants you to come.”
You, mid-sip of your newly-made coffee, nearly choke.
“…Huh?”
Jungkook tilts his head, amused. “What? You act like this is the first time she’s invited you.”
You pause, tapping your fingers against the cup. His family liked you. You knew that. His mom always sent you home with extra food whenever you visited, and his dad made it a point to tease Jungkook about “finally settling down” whenever you were around. Jungkook leans closer, watching you expectantly. “So? You’ll come?”
You exhale dramatically, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Maybe.”
Jungkook narrows his eyes. “Maybe?”
You smirk. “I’ll go on one condition.”
He leans in even more, suspicious. “What?”
You set your cup down with a slow, deliberate motion. Then you look him dead in the eye. “…Admit that I’m better at games.”
Jungkook snorts. “Not happening.”
You grin. “Then I’m not coming.”
Jungkook blinks. Then, before you can react, he pounces.
“YOU’RE COMING.”
“JUNGKOOK—”
You barely have time to throw your drink onto the table before he tackles you down onto the couch, arms caging you in as he buries his face into your neck. His weight presses you into the cushions, his laughter muffled against your skin.
“You little brat,” he mutters, nuzzling into you. You squirm, but he’s relentless, peppering lazy kisses against your jaw just to distract you.
“Say you’ll come,” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.
“Say I’m better.”
Jungkook grins against your neck. “Hmm. How about this—you come to dinner, and I’ll let you win next time.” You gasp, shoving at his chest. “Let me win?!”
His laughter shakes both of you, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m trying to be generous, baby.”
“Jungkook, I swear—”
The argument quickly devolves into a mess of tangled limbs and laughter, neither of you backing down. Jungkook is still half on top of you, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist, completely unwilling to let you escape. His warmth seeps into you, making it harder to even think about moving. You sigh, dramatically slumping against the couch cushions. “Fine. I’ll go to dinner.”
Jungkook’s head snaps up instantly. “Really?”
You roll your eyes, poking his cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But I’m expecting VIP treatment.”
Jungkook grins, wide and bright, before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Deal.”
Outside, the rain picks up, sheets of water blurring the world beyond the glass. The streetlights flicker, their glow reflecting off the puddles collecting on the pavement. But just beyond the window, Neither of you notice the figure standing on the balcony of the building across the street a dark silhouette barely visible through the downpour.
He watches. He waits.
The overhead lights in your office cast a dim, sterile glow, humming softly in the near silence. The usual buzz of the workplace has long since faded, leaving only the occasional click of your keyboard and the distant sound of the air conditioning whirring. You rub your tired eyes, exhaustion settling deep in your bones as you scroll through the last few emails of the day.
Just as you’re about to tackle the next document in your never-ending pile, your phone vibrates against your desk, the soft buzz cutting through the quiet. You glance at the screen, and a familiar name lights up:
Kook 🐰💜 [6:15 PM]: Still working?
Kook 🐰💜 [6:15 PM]: Come over after work?
A small smile tugs at your lips despite the fatigue weighing on you. You reach for your phone, letting your gaze drift to the towering stack of documents beside you before sighing. There’s no way you’re finishing up anytime soon. With a resigned exhale, you type out a response.
You [6:16 PM]: Working overtime. I’ll text when I’m done.
His reply comes almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for your response.
Kook 🐰💜 [6:16 PM]: It’s late. Want me to pick you up?
Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a second before you shake your head, rolling your eyes fondly. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of getting home on your own. The walk to your apartment was barely ten minutes, and you’d done it countless times before without issue. You hated the idea of relying too much on someone else, even if that someone was Jungkook. He was always eager to drop everything for you, to take on your burdens like they were his own, and while a part of you adored that about him, another part resisted it. You never wanted to feel like you needed saving. You could handle yourself.
You [6:16 PM]: I’m fine. My apartment’s nearby, remember?
There’s a brief pause before his next message comes through.
Kook 🐰💜[6:18 PM]: At least text me when you’re home.
You bite back a smile, shaking your head.
You [6:18 PM]: Yes, yes, Mr. Protective.
A second later, your screen lights up again with a message that’s nothing but a row of emojis. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head as you set your phone down. Stretching your arms over your head, you glance back at the unfinished work in front of you. The night is far from over, and exhaustion lingers in your limbs, but you push through.
Two hours later, the office is nearly deserted. Rows of empty desks stretch out before you, their monitors dark, abandoned by coworkers who were lucky enough to call it a day. Somewhere in the distance, the faint murmur of a janitor echoes through the halls, a quiet reminder that you’re not entirely alone. Still, the stillness feels heavy, pressing against your shoulders as you rub your tired eyes and blink at your laptop screen.
“Still here?”
The familiar voice startles you, pulling you from your work-induced daze. You look up to see Jimin standing by your desk, a bag slung over his shoulder and an amused expression on his face.
You let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Unfortunately.”
He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the cubicle wall. “Overtime?”
“Yeah.” You stretch your stiff fingers before clicking through your files. “Trying to get ahead of things since I’m taking a day off for Jungkook’s family dinner.”
Jimin raises a brow, clearly holding back a smirk. “You? Taking a day off? Who are you, and what have you done with my workaholic friend?”
You snort, rolling your eyes. “It’s one day, Park.”
“Still. Didn’t think you’d willingly take time off for a boyfriend’s family event.”
You shrug, shifting your attention back to your laptop. “I’m being a supportive partner. And also avoiding Jungkook’s pout if I don’t go.”
Jimin chuckles. “Yeah, that tracks.” He checks his watch, then nods toward the exit. “Well, it’s already past eight. I can drop you off—my car’s in the basement.”
You pause for half a second, tempted. It would be easy, safe. A quick ride home without having to walk through the dark streets alone. But something in you resists. You’ve always prided yourself on being independent, on handling things yourself. You weren’t about to start needing an escort home like some helpless protagonist in a thriller movie. Besides, your apartment wasn’t far, and you could take care of yourself just fine.
You shake your head. “I’ve still got work left. Need to refine a client presentation before tomorrow.”
Jimin frowns, clearly debating whether to push the issue. “You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”
You give him a small, reassuring smile. “Go home, Jimin. I’ll be fine.”
He hesitates for a moment longer before exhaling in defeat. “Alright. Text me when you get home, yeah?”
“I will.”
Satisfied, he ruffles your hair in a way that makes you swat at him, laughing as he dodges your weak attempt at retaliation. “Night, workaholic,” he teases before heading out, his footsteps fading down the hall.
And just like that, you’re alone again, the dim glow of your laptop screen casting long shadows across your desk.
It’s nearing eleven o'clock by the time you finally leave the office, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders like a weight you can’t shake. The automatic doors slide shut behind you, sealing the building in eerie silence. Outside, the streets stretch before you, quieter than usual, the world dipped in shades of silver and black under the dim glow of the streetlights.
The scent of rain lingers in the air, damp and heavy, even though the drizzle had stopped hours ago. The pavement glistens under the flickering glow of streetlights, reflecting the distorted shapes of the empty road ahead. A chilly breeze whispers through the deserted streets, curling around your skin like invisible fingers. You shiver, tugging your coat tighter around you, telling yourself it’s just the cold. You exhale slowly, watching your breath fog in the night air, and begin your walk home. It’s not far—barely a ten-minute walk. You’ve done this route countless times before. It should feel familiar. Safe.
But tonight… something feels off.
At first, it’s just a small shift in the air, a faint prickle at the back of your neck that strange, creeping sensation of being watched. It crawls up your spine, makes the hair on your arms stand on end.
You shake it off, adjusting the strap of your bag. You’re just tired. Paranoid. That’s all. The streets are always eerie this late of course they are. There’s no one around, just the distant hum of traffic blocks away, the occasional flicker of a neon sign from a closed shop. But then when you’re halfway home, just as you pass the turn near the old bookstore you hear it.
A faint, subtle sound, a footstep, echoes just a second too late after your own. Your breath catches in your throat as you freeze, and the sound stops too. The silence is suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Slowly, so painfully slowly, you turn to glance behind you.
Nothing.
Just an empty sidewalk, stretched too long and too dark behind you. The streetlights buzz faintly, their glow flickering, casting strange, distorted shadows on the wet pavement. Your own heartbeat pounds against your ribs, a heavy drumbeat in the stillness. You swallow, trying to shake the feeling creeping under your skin. You’re imagining things. You have to be. The city is full of noises like cars in the distance, leaves rustling, a stray cat darting between alleyways. That’s all it is.
Still… your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag as you push forward, steps quicker now. But the feeling doesn’t go away. It lingers. Pressing against your skin like static, buzzing at the edge of your awareness. You’re not alone.
You almost pull out your phone. Almost. Jungkook would pick up in an instant and he’d tell you to stay on the line, that he was coming to get you. But you don’t.
Because what would you even say? Hey, I think I’m being followed, but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot? No way. Jungkook would freak out, and you weren’t about to send him into a panic over something that was probably nothing. So instead, you pick up your pace, each step sharper, more urgent. The streetlights above seem dimmer now, their glow barely cutting through the shadows pooling at the edges of the road.
Your building is just a few turns away. You make it past the first one, then the second. Then you hear it again—not just a sound this time, but a shift, a presence. Someone is there. Your heart hammers as you whip around faster this time.
Nothing.
Your own shadow stretches long on the pavement, its shape warping under the flickering lights. The alleyway to your right is yawning and dark, a gaping mouth of blackness that seems to pull at the edges of your vision. Your pulse is a thunderous roar in your ears.
You’re not imagining this. This is real.
And now, your body knows it too and every instinct is screaming at you to move. So you do.
You rush forward, walking as fast as you can without breaking into a sprint. Your breath quickens, your fingers curling into fists, every nerve in your body on high alert. Just a little further. Just one more turn.
And then finally your apartment building comes into view, looming in the darkness like a beacon. Relief crashes over you so forcefully that you nearly stumble. You don’t turn around again. You don’t want to know if someone is standing there. Watching.
You force yourself to stay calm as you punch in the building’s entry code with unsteady fingers, stepping inside the safety of the lobby. The door shuts behind you with a heavy click, locking out the night.
You practically rush inside, the cool air of the lobby offering little comfort as your fingers tremble over the keypad. Your breath is shallow, coming in uneven gasps as you punch in your passcode. The numbers blur slightly in your vision, whether from exhaustion or the lingering tension clawing at your mind, you’re not sure. The beep of the lock disengaging feels deafening in the stillness. You push the door open, stepping inside so quickly that you nearly stumble over your own feet. The door swings shut behind you with a soft but final click, sealing you in the safety of your apartment. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
For a moment, you just stand there, listening. Nothing but the hum of your refrigerator, the faint creak of the building settling, and the sound of your own breathing, ragged and uneven in the silence. You don’t stop moving until every lock is in place.
Click. Click. Click.
Each one echoes louder than it should, like an affirmation that you are, in fact, secure. That no one followed you. That no one is outside, waiting. Still, the unease gnaws at you, refusing to settle. So, you make your rounds. Checking. Double-checking. Triple-checking.
You pull the curtains shut, firmly, ensuring no sliver of the outside world can seep in. You check the windows next, pressing your fingers against the glass, as if expecting to feel warmth from another presence, a breath on the other side. But there’s nothing. No shadow moving in the darkness, no faint imprint of something or someone having been there.
Finally, with a deep breath, you force yourself to move, shedding your coat, kicking off your shoes with sluggish movements. The exhaustion from the long day crashes down on you all at once, dull and heavy. Your limbs feel leaden as you shuffle toward your bedroom, every step slower than the last.
The warmth of your bed is almost enough to chase away the unease, the mattress soft, inviting and safe a stark contrast to the cold anxiety curling at the edges of your consciousness. You exhale, forcing yourself to relax, letting your body sink into the familiar comfort of your sheets.
But even as your eyes grow heavy, your mind refuses to let go completely. That nagging sense of being watched still lingers. Faint but present. And just before sleep claims you, a final thought slithers through your mind.
What if you weren’t imagining it? What if someone was still out there? Watching. Waiting.
Jungkook drives with effortless ease, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel while the other taps against the radio in rhythm with the song playing softly through the speakers. The hum of the engine blends with the melody, filling the quiet space between you, neither of you needing to speak. The road stretches ahead, endless and open, disappearing into the horizon. A faint trace of salt lingers in the air, creeping in through the half-open window, a quiet reminder that you’re getting closer to Busan.
You sit in the passenger seat, your gaze flickering between the blur of passing scenery and the man beside you. The steady motion of the car, the warmth of the moment, it all feels oddly soothing. After days of unease, of tension wound so tightly in your body that even sleep felt like a battle, you finally feel yourself exhale.
“Can’t believe you actually agreed to take a day off for me,” Jungkook teases, his grin nothing short of triumphant as he spares you a glance. “Is this what love does to people?”
You roll your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “One time, Jeon. Don’t get used to it.”
Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head like he doesn’t believe you for a second. His smile spreads wide, bright enough to make your chest ache with something unspoken. He reaches over without hesitation, his fingers giving your knee a playful squeeze before returning to the wheel. The touch is fleeting but warm, grounding in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.
You should tell him.
The past few days have been unbearable due to the creeping paranoia, the feeling of eyes tracing your every move and the subtle shifts in your apartment that made your skin crawl. It’s like living with a shadow just out of reach, something you can’t see but can feel pressing in from the edges. You don’t scare easily, but this has been different.
Your fingers twitch against your lap. One word. That’s all it would take. Jungkook would listen like he always does. He’d furrow his brows, tilt his head in that concerned way he does, and tell you not to brush it off. He’d probably get all worked up, insist on staying over, refuse to let you out of his sight.
And yet, looking at him now being so carefree, his bunny-like smile tugging at his lips as he taps his fingers against the beat makes you hesitate. He’s happy. Peaceful. This moment is untouched by the weight sitting on your chest, and for once, you don’t want to taint something good.
So you take a slow breath, forcing yourself to relax against the seat. You tell yourself it’s fine. That you’re just being paranoid. That if anything truly happens, you’ll deal with it.
You exhaled slowly, willing yourself to stay in the present, to focus on the soft hum of the radio, the rhythmic tap of Jungkook’s fingers against the steering wheel. But the memory pulled at you, dragging you under before you could stop it—
You had come home after another long day at work. Your shoulders were aching from hours spent hunched over your desk. You had barely registered the familiar scent of your apartment as you pushed the door open, the soft creak echoing into the stillness inside.
Everything had looked normal at first.
Your shoes sat neatly by the entrance, exactly where you had left them. The kitchen counter was cluttered with the remnants of that morning’s rushed breakfast.
But the air had felt… different. Slightly off. As if someone had been there. Your heartbeat had stumbled, picking up speed before you could rationalize it. You had told yourself it was nothing. Just the exhaustion making you paranoid.
And yet, as you had stepped further inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The sound was the first thing that struck you. Cheerful, repetitive, out of place.
Your TV was on.
Not just on but playing Mario Kart. The character selection screen looped in the background, the upbeat jingle clashing against the heavy silence that filled your apartment. You hadn’t touched your console in days. Not since you and Jungkook played together last Sunday. Your pulse quickened.
Your eyes flickered to the couch. It had been moved just slightly. Barely an inch out of place, but enough for you to notice.
A slow, creeping unease settled into your bones as you stepped further inside, your movements cautious. Your apartment wasn’t large. There weren’t many places for someone to hide. And yet, your skin prickled with the overwhelming sensation that something or someone had been here.
Your breath hitched as your gaze fell on your bedroom door, slightly ajar. You had closed it that morning. You were sure of it. With measured steps, you pushed the door open fully. And that’s when you saw it.
Your bed—completely in ruins. The sheets were tangled, pillows tossed carelessly, the once-smooth blankets now bunched in the center as if someone had been lying there. Your stomach twisted with unease because this morning, just before leaving for work, you had made your bed. Yet now, the sheets were rumpled, disturbed in a way that sent a chill crawling up your spine. Someone had been here.
Your pulse thundered in your ears as you took a shaky step back, your eyes darting around the room. Everything looked normal aside from the bed, the couch and the TV but the air felt wrong. Tainted. Like someone had occupied this space in your absence.
Your mind raced as you checked the locks. Still in place. No broken windows. No signs of forced entry.
So how— Your breath hitched as a thought struck you. With trembling fingers, you grabbed your phone and immediately dialed Jungkook. He picked up after a few rings, his voice slightly breathless, like he had been running. “Hey, baby. Everything okay?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, gripping the phone tightly. “Yeah,” you lied, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Where are you right now?”
"Still at the clinic," he answered easily. "Was assisting with a surgery on a Pomeranian. Poor guy had a blockage so it took longer than expected." Your stomach dropped.
If Jungkook wasn’t here… then who was?
Your fingers curled around your phone, knuckles whitening as you fought to keep your breathing even. “Got it,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just checking.” There was a pause. Then, Jungkook’s tone softened. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Another lie. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before he could press further, you ended the call.
The only sound left was the distant loop of Mario Kart, mocking you.
The weight of the memory lingered, suffocating, but the warmth of the car, the low hum of the radio, and Jungkook’s familiar presence slowly pulled you back. You blinked, staring at him.
Jungkook was happily rambling about his mom’s cooking, hands moving animatedly as he drove. “—and she always makes extra, like extra extra, because she knows I eat a lot. But now she’s even more excited since you’re coming—oh! She even tried making those cookies you love—”
His voice was light, full of an excitement you didn’t want to taint. A small part of you wanted to tell him. But another part, the part that didn’t want to see that deep crease of concern on his forehead, didn’t want to take away his peace, told you to keep it to yourself. For now.
You turned your head, looking out the window, watching the scenery blur past. You didn’t notice the way Jungkook’s eyes flickered toward you, his brows knitting together for just a moment before he forced his usual smile back onto his face.
Jungkook pulled into the driveway, parking with practiced ease. You had been here more times than you could count, yet there was always something comforting about stepping into his childhood home like the faint scent of home-cooked meals wafting through the air and the familiar sight of the wind chime swaying gently by the door.
Jungkook turned to you with a grin, one hand still resting on the steering wheel. “Mom probably made enough food to feed a small army.”
You chuckled, already knowing that was true. “She always does.”
Before you could even step out of the car, the front door swung open, revealing his mom waving enthusiastically. “You’re finally here! Hurry, come in before the food gets cold!” His mom pulled you into a hug the second you stepped inside, squeezing you tight.
“You’ve lost weight,” she huffed, pulling back just enough to inspect you with a critical eye. “Are you eating properly?”
You laughed, but before you could respond, his dad stepped forward with a warm smile, offering a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, his voice as steady and kind as ever.
“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Jeon,” you replied politely. “Mrs. Jeon, thank you for having me—”
Before you could finish, his mom smacked your arm lightly, her expression scandalized. “Yah! How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Mom and Dad.”
Your face heated instantly. “R-Right. Sorry… Mom.”
Jungkook snickered under his breath at your obvious embarrassment, and his mom beamed, clearly pleased. “That’s better,” she said, linking her arm with yours as she led you further inside. “You’re family, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”
The house smelled incredible of rich simmering broth and freshly cooked rice. The warmth of it all settled deep in your chest, making you realize just how much you had missed this. As you stepped into the living room, your gaze landed on a few baby toys scattered near the couch, a soft blanket draped over the armrest. Before you could ask, his mom sighed.
“Junghyun and his wife wanted to come with the twins, but the girls were too fussy today.”
Jungkook pouted dramatically, crossing his arms. “I still haven’t met my nieces.”
His mom shook her head, unimpressed. “You could visit them, you know.”
The dining table was packed with dishes his mom had gone all out, as always. Various side dishes, steaming hot soup, perfectly grilled meat, and a mountain of rice sat invitingly before you. It was a feast, one you had grown familiar with over the years, yet it never failed to impress you. Before you could even reach for anything, Jungkook was already piling food onto your plate, stacking it with precision. “Eat,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You know the rules.”
His mom beamed, clearly pleased. “At least someone in this house listens to me.”
You chuckled, picking up your chopsticks, but the moment was shattered when your phone lit up beside your plate, vibrating with an insistent ping. You glanced down, your stomach twisting into a knot.
Your pulse quickened. The messages came one after the other.
Unknown [1:10 PM]: You think you can stay safe by staying away from here?
Unknown [1:10 PM]: You think he’s gonna save you?
Unknown [1:10 PM]: I am always watching you, doll.
Your breath hitched. Cold fingers of unease crawled up your spine, but you forced yourself to stay composed. Your hands thankfully didn’t shake as you turned your phone upside down and set it to silent. Jungkook had noticed. His gaze flickered to the screen before you flipped it over, his brows knitting together in quiet concern. He looked like he wanted to ask, but you didn’t give him the chance.
The vibration had caught his parents’ attention too. “Oh dear, is that work?” his mom asked, concern lacing her voice.
“Yeah,” you lied smoothly, forcing a small smile. “Just some messages I need to deal with later.”
You weren’t sure if Jungkook believed you, but he didn’t press. Instead, he reached out under the table, squeezing your knee reassuringly before focusing back on his food. You tried to do the same, pushing down the paranoia clawing at your chest.
Dinner flowed with easy conversation. His parents asked about your work, laughing when Jungkook grumbled about how much time it took away from him. They also teased him relentlessly about how attached he was to you.
“Three years, and he still acts like you’re going to disappear if he looks away,” his dad joked, shaking his head fondly.
You snickered, nudging Jungkook’s foot under the table.
But Jungkook just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Can you blame me?” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Dinner continued with warmth and laughter, his parents seamlessly shifting the conversation to Jungkook’s studies.
“So, how’s school going?” his dad asked, scooping some more rice onto his plate. “Third year already, huh? Feels like just yesterday you were running around pretending to be a zookeeper.” Jungkook groaned. “Dad.”
His mom chuckled. “What? You were obsessed with animals. You even tried to ‘rescue’ the neighbor’s cat by sneaking it into your room.”
You gasped dramatically, turning to Jungkook. “Wait, I didn’t know about this!”
Jungkook sighed, shoving a bite of food into his mouth like he could physically escape the conversation. “That was years ago.”
His dad laughed. “And now look at you, halfway to becoming a real vet.”
“Not halfway,” Jungkook corrected between bites. “But yeah, it’s been tough. Classes are intense, and the practicals are even harder. Two days ago, I had to assist with a surgery, and let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for how long it would take.”
His mom’s eyes softened with pride. “You’ll be amazing, sweetheart. You’ve always had such a big heart for animals.”
Jungkook ducked his head, ears tinged pink. You smiled, nudging his foot under the table again. “She’s right, you know. You’re going to be an incredible vet.”
Jungkook glanced at you, his bunny-like smile appearing for just a second before he returned to his food. But the warmth of the moment did little to push away the unease creeping up your spine. The phone lay silent beside your plate, but you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling.
Just as the conversation was settling into a warm, familiar rhythm, the front door slammed open with the force of a small explosion.
“The prodigal son returns!”
Jungkook groaned, not even bothering to look. “Why. Are. You. Here.”
Jin strutted in like he was making a grand entrance at an award show, tossing his jacket onto the couch with an unnecessary flourish. “Heard there was food,” he announced before turning to you with a smirk. “And obviously, I had to make sure my dear cousin hasn’t scared you off yet.”
Jungkook scoffed. “You scared me off first.”
Jin ignored him completely, already making a beeline for the dining table. His mom, unfazed by the theatrics, clapped her hands together. “Oh, perfect timing! Sit, eat.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Jin said cheerfully, dropping into the seat beside you. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks like a warrior unsheathing his sword, ready for battle.
“So,” he drawled, nudging you playfully. “Three years and you still haven’t run for the hills? Impressive.”
You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “I’ve considered it.”
Jungkook gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you had personally stabbed him. “Betrayal! In my own home!”
“Technically, it’s our home,” his mom corrected.
“Exactly!” Jin said, pointing his chopsticks at Jungkook before shoving a mouthful of rice into his mouth. Jungkook’s dad, ever the composed one, leaned back in his chair and regarded Jin with an amused shake of his head. “So, how’s the tattoo shop? Are you still working reception?”
Jin waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that? I quit.”
Jungkook’s mom sighed, as if she had already seen this coming.
Jungkook’s dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jin, you just started that job.”
“Yeah, and I just quit that job,” Jin said brightly. “But don’t worry—I’ve moved on to better things.”
Jungkook raised a brow. “Should I even ask?”
“I now work at a pastry shop.” Jin declared, as if he had just announced a groundbreaking scientific discovery.
Jungkook blinked. “You?”
“Yes, me.”
Jungkook’s dad sighed. “Jin, you have to start thinking about stability. You can’t keep jumping from one job to another like this.”
Jin only laughed, waving him off like the thought of responsibility was a foreign concept. “Oh, please. Stability is boring. I get bored too fast—I need thrill, excitement, the rush of something new.”
“You sell croissants,” Jungkook deadpanned.
“And I do it with flair,” Jin shot back, popping a piece of fried chicken into his mouth. “Speaking of which, I brought some samples! The head baker said they were too ‘experimental’ for customers, but I figured you guys would appreciate my artistic vision.” He reached into his coat pocket because of course he carried pastries in his coat pocket and plopped two small, questionably green muffins onto the table.
Jungkook recoiled. “What is that?”
Jin grinned. “Matcha and kimchi fusion.”
Jungkook’s dad sighed again. His mom simply patted Jin’s hand, as if she had long since accepted his chaotic ways. Jin wipes his hands dramatically after placing down his abomination of a pastry creation, then immediately turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“So,” he starts, leaning in with the air of someone about to cause chaos. “On a scale of one to dear god, someone save me, how difficult is he to live with?”
You barely have time to react before he fires off another.
“Any plans to upgrade from ‘boyfriend’ status?” Jin asks, voice dripping with faux innocence.
Jungkook chokes so hard on his food that you have to thump his back. His mom gasps in concern, while his dad just continues eating like this is any other Thursday night.
Jin smirks in triumph. “Ah, so is there a wedding?”
Jungkook, still recovering, glares murderously. “You are so not invited to the wedding—”
Jin claps his hands together. “Confirmed!”
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He grabs a spoonful of rice and hurls it straight at Jin. Jin dodges like a seasoned warrior. “Oh, it’s war now.”
A second later, a piece of kimchi smacks Jungkook right in the cheek. Jungkook gapes at Jin. “You did not—”
“Oh, I did.” Jin wiggles his eyebrows before launching another attack. What starts as a petty sibling squabble escalates into all-out warfare. Jungkook lobs a dumpling; Jin retaliates with a piece of radish. Rice goes flying. You duck just in time to avoid getting hit by a rogue piece of tofu.
“Jeon Jungkook!” his mom shrieks, voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. “Kim Seokjin!”
They both freeze mid-throw, like guilty kids caught red-handed.
His dad sighs, a long and tired sigh, the kind that speaks of years of dealing with this exact scenario. He calmly reaches for his drink. “Can we please have one dinner without someone launching food across the table?”
Jungkook and Jin exchange glances.
Then, as if telepathically synchronized, they both lift their chopsticks and point at each other. “He started it.”
You snort. His mom groans. His dad sips his tea in silent resignation.
The night air is crisp, carrying the distant hum of crickets and the occasional rustling of leaves in the trees that line Jungkook’s backyard. The stars above twinkle through gaps in the branches, their light soft and distant. Out here, away from the city’s chaos, everything feels quieter like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Sorry about him.”
You chuckle, leaning into his warmth. “I like him. He makes things interesting.”
“Interesting until he’s grilling you.”
“True,” you admit, grinning. “But I can handle him.”
Jungkook huffs a quiet laugh, resting his chin atop your head. You exhale, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment, savoring the security of his presence. It’s moments like these that make you forget the paranoia and the unease clawing at the edges of your mind.
But it never truly leaves.
The feeling of being watched. The weight of unseen eyes crawling over your skin. The messages you’ve ignored all night. They all linger in your mind. You glance up at Jungkook. He’s still smiling, talking about how his mom packed you extra leftovers. “She thinks you don’t eat enough,” he says fondly, shaking his head.
You should tell him.
The words sit heavy on your tongue, pressing against your teeth. One sentence, and it would all be out in the open.
But you don’t.
Instead, you nod, forcing a small laugh. “She really doesn’t take no for an answer, huh?”
“Never,” Jungkook confirms, squeezing your waist. His touch is warm, grounding. But even that warmth doesn’t reach the cold pit in your stomach.
“Jungkook!” His dad’s voice calls from inside. “Come here for a second.”
Jungkook groans, reluctant to move. “Stay here, I’ll be back,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before disappearing inside.
The moment he’s gone, the silence presses in. You hesitate before pulling out your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. The notifications are still there, messages from Unknown piled up like unanswered warnings.
The last one catches your eye.
Unknown [1:10 PM]: I am always watching you, doll.
Your breath stutters.
The phone suddenly feels heavy in your hands, like a weight dragging you down into something inescapable.
No.
Your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out the gentle chirping of crickets, drowning out reason. A suffocating sense of dread settles in your chest as you stare at the word, doll. There was only one person who ever called you that.
Only one voice that had whispered it against your skin, had laughed it into your ear, had let it drip from his tongue like a slow poison.
Kim Taehyung.
The room was thick with the stench of alcohol and sweat, the air heavy with cigarette smoke that coiled toward the ceiling in lazy spirals. Dim lighting flickered from a dying bulb, casting long, distorted shadows across the stained walls.
Taehyung sat slouched in a tattered armchair, his body sinking into the worn-out fabric. His limbs felt like lead, the weight of intoxication pressing down on him, making his movements sluggish, his thoughts hazy. A half-empty bottle dangled loosely from his fingers, the condensation dripping onto his jeans, but he barely noticed.
Around him, his friends were strewn across the room in various states of intoxication, some laughing at nothing, their voices slurred and senseless, while others lay sprawled out, lost to the world. Taehyung exhaled a slow, heavy breath. Everything felt distant and detached until a stray thought cut through the fog: you.
His lazy smirk faltered. His fingers twitched against the armrest, tightening before relaxing again. His vision blurred at the edges, but the memories were sharp. Unwelcome. Unrelenting. His jaw clenched. He willed himself to push it away, drown it in the haze, let the high carry him somewhere else. But it never worked.
It never did when it came to you. His body was here, slouched in a torn armchair, but his mind was somewhere else. Three years ago.
"I don’t love you anymore."
The scent of espresso and warm pastries was suffocating. The quiet hum of conversation around them felt like static in his ears. But none of it fucking mattered. Not when you were sitting across from him, staring at him like he was nothing.
The words barely registered at first. His mind lagged behind reality like a glitching tape, playing back a version of events where this wasn’t happening.
"What?" His voice was sharp, disbelieving. "What the fuck did you just say?"
Your gaze didn’t waver. "I said I don’t love you."
The words cut. They didn’t hit all at once they sank in slowly, like a blade sliding between ribs.
Taehyung laughed. "Bullshit."
He leaned forward, jaw tight, fingers curling into the edge of the table. "You’re being dramatic. You always do this shit when you want attention."
Your expression didn’t change, but something about it made his stomach turn. You weren’t crying. You weren’t shaking. There was no hesitation or guilt or any of the things he had relied on to keep you in line. This wasn’t like before.
Your voice was flat. "You ruined this, Tae. You ruined me."
His laugh was louder this time, bitter and sharp. "Oh, so I’m the villain now? After everything I did for you?"
"Everything you did to me."
His breath stuttered.
And then you kept going. You fucking kept going.
"You controlled me. You isolated me. You made me feel like I was insane every time I called you out on your bullshit."
His hands curled into fists. "Oh, fuck off—"
"You threatened me, Tae. You threw shit. You punched walls, grabbed me so fucking hard I had bruises for days. And every time, you’d crawl back, begging, saying you didn’t mean it—"
His teeth clenched, fury bubbling beneath his skin. "Because I didn’t!"
"You dangled your own life over my head like a leash."
His blood turned cold, the first sliver of panic slicing through the rage that had consumed him moments ago. He wasn’t winning. The realization struck hard. His grip tightened on the table, nails digging into the cheap wood as if he was bracing for impact. You weren’t supposed to fucking say that. You weren’t supposed to know.
He forced a laugh, but it came out desperate. "And what, you're suddenly a fucking therapist? Psychoanalyzing me like I’m some fucking monster?"
Your voice was quiet, but it sliced straight through him.
"I don’t need to psychoanalyze you, Taehyung. I lived through you."
The air left his lungs. His vision blurred at the edges, rage and panic clashing, drowning him.
All of a sudden, ‘his’ name fell from your lips like a gunshot.
Jungkook? That pathetic little nerd? The one he used to shove into lockers, humiliate just for the fun of it? The same one who flinched if someone raised their voice too loud?
He let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, but there was nothing funny about this. His hands shook from the effort of holding himself back.
"So that’s what you’ve been doing, huh?" His voice was sharp, venomous. "Nursing him back to health after I fucked him up?"
You exhaled, shaking your head, unimpressed.
Then, he snapped. "You fucked him, didn’t you?"
He spat the words like a curse, like they burned his tongue. Even as he said it, he knew you wouldn’t. You were a self-righteous bitch with all your morals, your bullshit standards. You wouldn’t dare. But the thought of it, the idea of you with him made his head spin, made his vision go dark at the edges.
His voice dropped to a hiss. "That little fucking loser? You let him touch you? You let him—"
His hands ached. He wanted to grab you, to shake you, to make you look at him.
"He’s a pussy, doll." His voice cracked, something wild and desperate bleeding through. "He won’t take care of you like I did."
You scoffed, expression unreadable. "You never took care of me, Tae."
"What the fuck does he have that I don’t?" His voice rose, teetering between fury and desperation. "Tell me."
You just stared at him, and that look—that fucking look—
It was over.
It was fucking over.
Panic clawed at his ribs, lodged itself in his throat, made his vision blur and his hands shake. So he did what he always did when he lost control.
"I’ll kill myself if you leave me."
The words came out fast and sharp, a desperate lifeline thrown into the storm. It had always worked before, always made you hesitate, always made you stay. But this time, you simply exhaled a breath of relief, as if you had finally broken free.
And then, for the first time, you smiled.
"Look at you." Your voice was soft. Almost pitying. "Still trying to manipulate me."
Something inside him snapped.
His vision blurred, his body moved and the next thing he knew, the coffee cup on the table was in pieces, shattered porcelain scattering across the floor.
The café had gone silent.
The whole fucking world had gone silent.
You stood, your chair scraping against the tile. Unbothered.
You walked away. No hesitation. No tears. No fucking remorse.
And for the first time, Taehyung had nothing.
Nothing left to say. Nothing left to hold onto.
The cigarette burned down to the filter, searing his fingers. He didn’t flinch. Taehyung’s jaw clenched, knuckles turning white as his fists curled against the armrest. The high didn’t feel so numbing anymore, just agitating. His skin felt too tight, his thoughts too sharp, too loud.
For almost a year, he had drowned you out with drugs, alcohol, distractions, anything to blur the edges of what you had done to him. To make himself forget the way you walked away without looking back. But the moment he saw you again it all came rushing back.
The obsession. The hunger. The need to undo it all.
You thought you walked away for good?
No. You were always his. Even when you hated him. Even when you ran. And now he was going to take back what was his.
One way or another.
After returning from Busan, you stayed over at Jungkook’s place.
You didn’t want to sleep alone. Not after the messages. The number was blocked now. You hadn’t received anything since. But still… you didn’t feel comfortable going back home yet.
Jungkook hadn’t questioned it. He just smiled and let you in, happy to have you around. But the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to ignore the guilt settling in your chest.
Because Jungkook didn’t know.
You hadn’t told him about the messages. About the unease creeping up your spine every time your phone vibrated. About the name that had resurfaced in the form of a single word:
“Doll.”
It shouldn’t have meant anything. Anyone could use that word. It was common, impersonal.
But not to you.
Not when you could still hear his voice saying it. Not when you remembered how it had dripped from Taehyung’s lips sometimes sweet, sometimes cruel.
“Be good for me, doll.”
“You know I only act like this because I love you, doll.”
“You’re nothing without me, doll.”
The thought alone made your stomach churn. You weren’t even sure if it was him. Maybe it was just paranoia. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
Yeah. It had to be. So you pushed it down, shoved it into the corners of your mind where you didn’t have to look at it. You told yourself you were keeping this from Jungkook to protect him.
But now, as you sit at your office desk, your mind is miles away from the reports in front of you. You tap your pen against the surface, gaze unfocused.
You don’t notice Jimin watching you from across the room until he finally speaks.
“Everything okay between you and Jungkook?”
You blink, snapping out of your daze. “What?”
Jimin leans against your desk, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “You seem off. Thought maybe you two had a fight or something.”
You force a small laugh, shaking your head. “No, nothing like that. Everything’s fine.”
Jimin doesn’t look convinced. His sharp gaze lingers for a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to crack. But he doesn’t press.
And you’re grateful for that.
Lunchtime rolls around when you finally check your phone.
The morning had been filled with client meetings, thankful for the welcome distraction. For a few hours, you managed to keep your mind from spiraling. But the moment your screen lights up with a string of unread messages from an unknown number, reality crashes back in.
Your stomach plummets.
Unknown [10:28 AM]: Did you really think blocking me would make me disappear, doll?
Unknown [10:28 AM]: How cute. Almost as cute as you playing house with your little pet.
Unknown [10:29 AM]: Speaking of pets… your boyfriend’s been working so hard. Diligently studying to save all those poor, dying animals.
Unknown [10:30 AM]: How pathetic.
Unknown [10:31 AM]: Wanna see?
Your breath catches.
The next message has three images attached. With shaking fingers, you tap them open.
First image: Jungkook in class, focused, scribbling down notes. Second image: Him in the lab, sleeves rolled up, handling equipment with practiced ease. Third image: Now. Jungkook at lunch, head slightly tilted as he listens to someone, chopsticks resting in his hand.
Your blood turns to ice as your vision tunnels, the world narrowing to a single horrifying realization—Jungkook is right there. Someone… no, not just anyone. It has to be Taehyung. He is near. He is watching. And if he is close enough to take these photos, then he is close enough to do something worse. Your phone nearly slips from your grip as pure, heart-stopping terror crashes into you. Jungkook is in danger. The first message was sent almost an hour ago, which means Taehyung has been near him this whole time. Watching him. Stalking him.
Your first instinct is to call the cops. Your fingers hover over the dial pad, heart hammering until your screen lights up again. As if he had been waiting for you to see his messages.
Unknown [12:01 PM]: I know what you’re thinking, doll.
Unknown [12:01 PM]: Call the cops, and I’ll slit your pretty boyfriend’s throat right where he sits.
Your breath locks in your chest, hands trembling so violently you almost drop your phone.
No. No, no, no.
You don’t think you just move.
You bolt out of your office, barely registering Jimin calling after you. His voice is distant, but you can’t stop. You don’t have time. You race to your car, hands fumbling with the keys as you throw yourself into the driver’s seat. The second the engine roars to life, you’re speeding down the street, ignoring every traffic rule, every red light.
There’s only one thought pounding in your skull, louder than the frantic beat of your heart—
Get to Jungkook. Now.
You pull up to Jungkook’s university, barely throwing the car into park before shoving the door open. Your legs feel unsteady as you rush out, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Your hands tremble as you fumble with your phone, fingers slipping as you dial Jungkook’s number again and again. No answer. You try once more, the ringing tone stretching unbearably before it goes to voicemail.
The campus is alive with movement students chatting, laughing and going about their day, blissfully unaware of the sheer terror gripping you. You push through the crowd, scanning faces wildly, your heart pounding against your ribs. Where is Jungkook?
People glance at you, their whispers buzzing at the edge of your hearing, but you don’t care. You try his number again. Still nothing.
A sickening thought slithers into your mind— What if Taehyung already got to him? What if you’re too late?
Finally, your eyes land on him.
Jungkook stands in the courtyard, laughing with a couple of friends, completely oblivious to the danger shadowing him. The world around you blurs as relief crashes over you like a tidal wave.
Alive. Unharmed.
Your knees almost buckle, the tension in your body unravelling just enough for you to let out a sharp, shaky exhale. Your breath stutters as the panic begins to subside, but the urgency still thrums beneath your skin. Then Jungkook sees you.
His laughter dies mid-sentence, his brows knitting together in concern as his eyes rake over your disheveled form. His friends glance at you curiously, but Jungkook is already moving toward you.
"Y/N?" His voice is gentle but urgent. "What’s wrong?"
You shake your head quickly, forcing a weak, unconvincing smile. "It’s nothing," you say, voice tight. "But we need to leave. Now."
Jungkook blinks, his confusion evident. "What? I have an afternoon lecture."
You tighten your grip on his wrist, desperation seeping into your voice. "Jungkook, please. We need to go home."
His brows draw together, concern deepening in his soft gaze. "Why?" His voice remains gentle, but there's a quiet insistence beneath it. "What’s going on?"
When you don’t answer, Jungkook exhales softly before taking your hand, leading you away from the courtyard and into a quieter corner. His touch is firm but never forceful.
"Y/N, talk to me." His voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s an edge of worry to it. "What’s wrong?" His dark eyes search yours, trying to unravel the truth you refuse to say.
You swallow, avoiding his gaze. "It’s nothing, I swear—"
His jaw tightens, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That’s not true."
Jungkook doesn’t raise his voice, but the frustration is clear. He takes a slow step closer, his warmth now suffocating. "You’ve been acting different for weeks. Distant. Jumpy. And now you show up here looking like you’ve seen a ghost and expect me to just go along with it?"
You flinch at the quiet intensity in his words, but still, you don’t answer. Jungkook’s voice rises just a little, but the hurt in it is undeniable. “Do you not trust me?”
You bite your lip, guilt pressing down on your chest like a heavy weight. “Of course I do, Jungkook, it’s just—”
“Then tell me.” His fingers rake through his hair, his brows drawn together, frustration flickering in his dark eyes. But his voice stays soft, laced with something almost pleading.
“I’m not a child, Y/N.”
The words land harder than you expect, sinking deep. Silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken truths and the weight of his quiet disappointment. You know you should tell him. You should warn him. But… you can’t.
Jungkook exhales slowly, his jaw tightening as he watches you struggle with whatever it is you’re refusing to say. His frustration is evident, but his voice remains gentle, laced with quiet insistence.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” he says firmly. “If you won’t, I’ll just stay here.”
Your stomach drops. No. He can’t stay here. Not when you know Taehyung is watching. “Jungkook, please,” you whisper, gripping his wrist tighter.
“Then tell me, Y/N.” His gaze softens, but the unwavering determination in his eyes sends a surge of panic through you. You have no choice. You have to tell him something—anything—just to get him to listen.
“Someone’s been watching you,” you admit in a rush, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know who, but it’s not safe.”
Jungkook stiffens. His expression shifts from frustration to shock, then to something unreadable. “Watching me?” he echoes. “Y/N, what—why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?”
You look away, guilt gnawing at you. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s still skeptical, still confused, but he can see the genuine fear in your eyes. And that alone is enough to make him give in.
“Alright,” he finally murmurs. “Let’s go.”
Relief washes over you, but just as you think you’ve convinced him to leave, your phone vibrates. It's another message.
Unknown [12:17 PM]: Ah, there you are, doll. So desperate to save your boyfriend? Cute. But I’m not done playing yet.
Your breath hitches.
Taehyung is watching you right now. Your fingers tighten around your phone as your eyes dart around the campus, paranoia seeping into your every movement.
Jungkook immediately catches the way your face drains of all color. His fingers gently close around your wrist before you can react, his other hand swiftly taking your phone from your grip.
“Jungkook, wait—”
But it’s too late. His eyes scan the message, and you feel his entire body go still. His brows knit together, his lips parting slightly as he rereads the words, processing the threat laced between them.
“Who…” His voice is quiet at first, controlled. Then, a little sharper. “Who the hell is this?”
You swallow hard, panic clawing at your chest. You should’ve been more careful. But now there’s no avoiding it. Jungkook looks up at you, eyes searching. “Y/N,” he says softly, but there’s an undeniable firmness in his tone. “Tell me.”
You take a shaky breath, forcing the words out before you can hesitate.
“I… I think it’s Taehyung.”
Jungkook blinks. For a moment, he just stares at you like you’ve said something completely incomprehensible. Then, he shakes his head, a disbelieving scoff leaving his lips.
“Taehyung?” He lets out a breath, his brows furrowing. “No. That’s impossible. We haven’t seen him in years.”
You can see the way his mind is racing, trying to rationalize it, trying to convince himself that it can’t be true. But then piece by piece it all starts to click. The way you’ve been acting. The paranoia. The half-truths. Everything makes sense now.
Jungkook’s expression shifts, his grip tightening slightly around your phone. He looks at you again, this time with quiet intensity. “Tell me everything.”
You take a deep, unsteady breath and finally let it all out. Every message. Every chilling threat. The way Taehyung has been watching, lurking in the shadows, getting closer and closer. How you’ve been living in constant fear, too terrified to sleep, too paranoid to breathe. How you blocked him, but he always found a way back. The photos of Jungkook the proof showing that Taehyung has been near him all along.
Jungkook doesn’t say a word. He just listens. His hands slowly curl into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening, but his eyes stay locked on you, soft and unwavering. By the time you finish, your throat is tight, and your vision blurs slightly. You blink rapidly, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. You quickly wipe at your eyes before Jungkook can notice.
But he does.
Without a word, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. You freeze for a second, startled, but then you let yourself sink into the embrace. His arms are strong and steady, anchoring you as if he’s shielding you from everything that’s been haunting you.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice softer than ever. “You don’t have to hold it in, Y/N.”
Your breath shudders. “I-I’m fine,” you whisper, even though your grip on his hoodie tightens. Jungkook shakes his head slightly. “No, you’re not. And that’s okay.” His hand runs up and down your back in slow, soothing motions. “You don’t always have to be strong on your own.”
Something in you cracks at his words. A single tear slips down your cheek, and this time, you don’t wipe it away. Jungkook holds you tighter, his voice firm but gentle. “You should’ve told me sooner.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I was scared.”
“I get that.” He exhales, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “But you’re not alone in this. I’m here now. And I won’t let him hurt you.”
When you finally pull away, his hands stay on your shoulders, grounding you. Now, you have to decide.
Go to the police? It’s the logical choice, but Taehyung already made it clear what would happen if you did. Jungkook’s life isn’t something you’re willing to gamble with. Confront Taehyung yourself? It’s reckless, dangerous, and probably a mistake. But part of you feels like it’s the only way to put an end to this.
Jungkook watches your face carefully, reading the thoughts swirling in your head. Then, his jaw tightens, his voice steady but firm. “If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re out of your mind.”
For the first time in weeks, the suffocating loneliness eases because no matter what happens next, Jungkook is with you. Suddenly your phone vibrates again.
Unknown [12:51 PM]: Such a heartwarming moment. But how far will he go to protect you?
And then another message. A photo.
It’s a picture of you and Jungkook. Right now.
He’s still here.
"Y/N?" Jungkook’s voice is soft but sharp with concern. "What is it?"
You turn the phone toward him, and the moment he sees the message, his entire body stiffens. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists. His voice is low but firm when he speaks.
"We’re leaving. Now."
You don’t argue.
Jungkook grabs your wrist, pulling you through the crowd of students, his grip tight but reassuring. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you scan the area frantically, eyes darting from face to face.
But you don’t see him. He could be anywhere.
Jungkook doesn’t slow down until you reach his car. He unlocks it in a rush, practically shoving you inside before slamming the door shut behind him. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. Only when he locks the doors and exhales a shaky breath does he turn to look at you.
"He’s here, Y/N." His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it.
You swallow hard, gripping your phone. "I know."
Jungkook starts the car. "We’re going home. Then we figure out our next move." You nod, but the unease lingers.
Because Taehyung isn’t done playing yet.
Jungkook paces the length of his living room, fingers running through his hair in frustration. You sit on the couch, gripping your phone tightly, going over every possible option. Jungkook is still talking, still trying to come up with a solid plan but his voice fades into the background as your eyes remain glued to your phone screen.
Unknown [1:37 PM]: Come alone. Midnight. Your apartment.
Unknown [1:37 PM]: Don’t make me repeat myself, doll.
Your grip on the phone tightens. Your pulse roars in your ears. If Jungkook sees this, there’s no way he’ll let you go. He’ll insist on coming with you. And that’s exactly what Taehyung wants, a reason to hurt him. Swallowing hard, you quickly lock your phone and shove it into your pocket before Jungkook notices.
“Y/N?”
You snap back to reality to find Jungkook watching you carefully. “Yeah?”
“I was saying…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should stay at a hotel tonight. Just in case. I don’t want you anywhere near that apartment if Taehyung’s been watching you.”
Your stomach churns with guilt, but you shake your head. “No. I think we should just stay and act normal. If we start running now, he’ll know we’re scared.”
Jungkook’s eyes darken. “We are scared, Y/N.”
You force a small, tired smile. “But we can’t let him know that.”
He exhales, clearly frustrated but unable to argue. “Fine. But I’m not letting you out of my sight.” You nod, pretending to agree.
But deep down, you already know that the moment Jungkook falls asleep tonight, you’re leaving.
Alone.
It’s a little past midnight when you finally slip out of Jungkook’s apartment.
You hesitate at the door, glancing back at his sleeping form. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you can see the tension on his face. He had been restless for hours, his body stiff with unease, as if sensing that something was wrong.
You had pretended to fall asleep just so he could relax. It worked eventually. But now, as you step out into the cold night, a bitter weight settles in your chest.
Jungkook would never forgive you for this.
But this is the only way.
You move quickly, keeping to the shadows as you make your way to your apartment. The streets are eerily quiet, the distant hum of the city muffled by the pounding of your heart. Every step you take feels heavier like you're walking toward something inevitable.
Suddenly you hear a second set of footsteps.
You don’t have time to react before a hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your startled gasp.
Before you can struggle, an arm wraps around your waist in a vice-like grip, dragging you off the sidewalk. The world tilts as you're yanked into a dark alleyway. Your pulse hammers against your ribs as you thrash against the hold, but it’s uselessm his grip is unyielding, effortlessly strong.
A low, deep chuckle brushes against your ear, sending a sickening shiver down your spine.
"Took you long enough, doll."
Taehyung had grown impatient waiting for you to show up. Without warning, he forcefully turns you to face him, his grip unrelenting. The sudden contact sends a jolt of fear through you, and seeing him again after all these years feels like being doused in ice water.
Time has changed him, but not enough. His face is still achingly familiar from the sharp jawline, the tattoos that snake up the expanse of his neck to the piercing eyes that burn with something much darker.
A part of you always knew this day would come. You had told yourself that the way Taehyung left without so much as hurting you was too good to be true, but maybe, just maybe he had realised he was in the wrong and disappeared into the past like a bad dream. But now, standing here with his breath hot against your skin, you realize how foolish you were to think he’d ever let you go.
"You thought I wouldn’t come back for you?" he whispers against your ear, his voice sickeningly soft.
Your breath stutters. You try to shove him away, but he’s faster amd stronger. His grip tightens as he forces you back, slamming you against the cold, unforgiving brick wall of the alley. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, and before you can recover, his fingers press into your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.
The streetlamp above casts a sliver of light over him, illuminating the twisted smile on his lips.
"I gave you everything, and you threw me away for him?"
Resentment drips from every word, his voice cracking with something raw.
"I should’ve taught you a lesson years ago."
Your heart hammers in your chest, panic locking your limbs in place. But before you can even react—
A force rips Taehyung away from you, sending him crashing onto the pavement with a brutal thud.
Jungkook stands over him, breath uneven, fists still clenched from the impact. His usual softness is nowhere to be found—his expression is cold, lethal.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it that makes the air feel heavier.
Taehyung chuckles darkly. “I knew you’d come running.”
Jungkook doesn’t take the bait. His eyes flick to you, scanning for any sign of injury, before settling back on Taehyung with something dangerously close to disgust.
“You don’t get to lay a hand on her,” Jungkook says, his voice steady. “Not now. Not ever.”
Taehyung chuckles again, pushing himself up with an air of arrogance. He rolls his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as if this is all a joke to him.
"You?" He scoffs, eyes glinting with amusement. "Defending her?" His gaze flickers to you, sharp and accusing. "I bet she never even told you what she did to me."
Jungkook doesn’t flinch nor does he hesitate. His voice is calm, unwavering. "She didn’t do anything." He steps forward, eyes locked onto Taehyung like he’s daring him to try again. "I know she’s mine. And I know you’re just a lying, manipulative piece of shit."
Taehyung's smirk vanishes.
In a flash, he lunges.
Jungkook barely dodges, twisting to the side just in time, but Taehyung is relentless. He moves fast, and Jungkook isn’t a fighter he doesn’t have brute force or years of experience throwing punches. But what he does have is speed, quick reflexes and the sheer, unshakable will to protect you.
A fist catches Jungkook’s side, making him stagger back, but he barely registers the pain before Taehyung moves toward you again.
And that’s when Jungkook stops thinking.
His hand finds a broken pipe lying in the dirt. In one swift motion, he grips it tight and swings, slamming it straight into Taehyung’s stomach.
A sharp gasp rips from Taehyung’s throat as he doubles over, coughing violently. But he’s not down. Not yet.
Jungkook doesn’t wait. He reaches for you, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist. His eyes meet yours, urgent and fierce.
"Run."
The pounding of your footsteps echoes against the pavement, your lungs burning as you push yourself to keep running. The night air is thick, every breath heavy with exhaustion and fear.
Behind you, Taehyung is gaining. His ragged breaths cut through the silence, his footsteps unrelenting.
“You think you can run from me?” His voice is sharp, twisted with amusement and fury. A metallic glint catches the dim streetlights indicating he has a knife now.
Panic seizes your chest.
Jungkook’s grip tightens around your wrist. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t hesitate just yanks you sharply to the side. Your vision blurs as he drags you toward a dark, skeletal structure.
A construction site.
You stumble into the half-built building, weaving through stacks of bricks and steel beams. The scent of dust and concrete fills your lungs as you press yourself into the shadows, trying to quiet your frantic breathing.
Jungkook releases you only to crouch down, scanning the ground. His fingers curl around a rusted wrench, heavy in his grip. It’s not much, but it’s something.
“Stay behind me,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the fear you know he must be feeling. Your heart slams against your ribs. Your thoughts are spiralling. You should have been more careful, quieter when slipping out of the house. You can't believe you're the reason Jungkook is in danger, that he is the one standing between you and the threat. It should be you protecting him, not the other way around.
The footsteps slow. Taehyung has followed you inside.
A chilling silence settles over the space.
Then, a low chuckle.
“You can’t hide forever.” His voice is laced with amusement, the scrape of his knife dragging along metal making you flinch. “Come on, Jungkook. You really think you can protect her?”
Jungkook doesn’t move, his stance solid, wrench gripped tightly, shoulders squared. The tension is suffocating, every second stretching unbearably. You don’t dare breathe. Then Taehyung moves. The knife slices through the air.
Jungkook barely dodges, instinct driving his body before his mind catches up. The blade misses him by inches, but there’s no time to think, theres no time to breath, only react.
With everything he has, he swings the wrench. It connects hard against Taehyung’s wrist.
The knife clatters to the ground.
But Jungkook doesn’t stop this time.
His fist collides with Taehyung’s jaw, the impact ringing in the empty construction site. The force of it sends Taehyung staggering back, his body slamming against a stack of bricks. He’s weak now, unsteady, but still smiling like he’s enjoying this.
And then, in a last, desperate attempt, he speaks.
“You really think you’ve changed, Jungkook?” Taehyung breathes, voice laced with mockery. He spits blood onto the dust-covered ground, laughing through the pain. “You’re still the same pathetic kid I used to toy with. Weak. Spineless.”
Jungkook’s breath hitches.
“You’ll never be enough for her.”
The words land heavier than any punch ever could. For a split second, Jungkook falters. The old wounds, the taunts, the bruises, and the humiliation come rushing back. The memories claw at the edges of his mind, threatening to pull him under.
He remembers the way they used to laugh at him, the cruelty in their voices, the way they looked at him like he was nothing. Like he would always be nothing. He was the loser, the punching bag, the boy who never fought back. Every insult had carved itself into his skin, every shove had left something deeper than just bruises. They made him believe it. That he was worthless. That he would never be enough.
And then there was you. You. The only light in the darkness, the only person who had ever looked at him without disgust. He fell so hard, so helplessly in love with you, even though you belonged to Taehyung. It was cruel, really. The way fate played its hand. You were Taehyung’s girlfriend, yet you were the only one who saw Jungkook. The only one who stood up for him when Taehyung and his gang pushed him down. When he was at his lowest, you were there, offering kindness.
But how could you have chosen him? Him? A pathetic loser who had spent years as the butt of every joke, the weakling who was too afraid to fight back. He hears the echoes of their laughter, the mocking whispers that still live inside his head. Maybe they were right. Maybe he really is nothing. Maybe you made a mistake choosing him.
Taehyung’s voice is smooth and insidious, wrapping around him like a noose. The doubt, the shame, the years of self-hatred it all pulls him under, dragging him back to a place he swore he’d never return to. His fists loosen at his sides, his body feels too heavy, like he’s sinking into the past, like he's losing himself all over again.
But then—you.
You, standing behind him. The warmth of your presence, the unwavering belief in your eyes. The way you never once hesitated to love him, to choose him. His heart pounds against his ribs, pushing away the suffocating weight of the past.
No. No.
He is not that boy anymore. He is not weak. And he will not let Taehyung twist his mind, not when he has you to protect.
The hesitation vanishes as Jungkook moves, striking once, then again, each blow fueled by something raw, something deeper than anger—something desperate. His jaw is clenched, muscles taut, as if he is holding back years of something buried deep inside, something he never let himself feel until now. You have never seen him like this. Then another hit. And another.
His knuckles split, blood dripping onto the cold concrete, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not until Taehyung stops moving.
The only sound left is Jungkook’s ragged breathing. His chest heaves, his hands shaking.
His eyes, dark and unfocused, burn with an intensity you have never seen before. It is not just fear, nor is it just anger. It is something far more terrifying in its certainty, something that does not waver, something that does not break. It is an unrelenting, all-consuming protectiveness, the kind that leaves no room for hesitation, no space for doubt. And the most haunting part of it all—you know he did it for you.
“Jungkook.”
Your voice is sof t but it cuts through the chaos like a blade.
He freezes.
His chest rises and falls in uneven bursts, his knuckles raw and bloodied. His grip on the wrench trembles, muscles locked so tightly you wonder if he even hears you.
Then he looks at you, and in that moment, something inside him fractures. The fury that had burned so fiercely in his eyes splinters, crumbling into something far more fragile: fear. But it is not fear for himself. It is for you. For what could have happened. For what he almost became.
You take a step closer, carefully, like you’re approaching a wounded animal. His breathing is ragged, his body strung so tight it might snap. But he doesn’t move away when you reach for him.
Fingers brushing against his wrist, you gently pry the wrench from his grip. His hand is still trembling when it slips from his grasp, clattering onto the ground.
“It’s over,” you whisper, your voice steady even as your own hands shake. “I’m okay.”
Jungkook swallows hard, his throat working around unspoken words. The wail of sirens cuts through the heavy silence, distant but growing closer. Someone must have heard the commotion and called the police.
Taehyung groans from where he lies sprawled on the ground, too weak to move, too beaten to fight. But you barely spare him a glance.
Jungkook exhales shakily, his entire body trembling with the aftermath of it all. His fists are still clenched, his knuckles still bleeding, but his eyes are different now.
They are not just the eyes of your sweet, oblivious boyfriend anymore.
He steps closer, hesitant, hands hovering over your arms, your waist, checking, searching, needing to convince himself that you’re still here. That you’re real.
“I could’ve lost you,” he breathes, his voice rough, breaking at the edges.
The weight of his words settles deep in your chest.
You reach up, cupping his face, your thumb skimming over the small cut on his cheek. He flinches at the touch, but not from pain he just wasn’t expecting something so gentle.
“But you didn’t,” you murmur.
Jungkook’s breath shudders out of him. His lashes flutter shut for a second, his jaw tightening like he’s holding something in, something overwhelming, something too big to put into words.
Then, in a voice so quiet, so broken, it almost shatters you
“I was so scared.”
And just like that, everything collapses.
The rage, the adrenaline, the fear everything he had forced himself to carry, to bury, it all crumbles in one breath.
You don’t hesitate. You pull him into you, arms wrapping around him, and he clings back just as tightly. His grip is almost desperate, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.
Then, suddenly, he tilts his head down, capturing your lips in his.
The kiss is not careful. It’s not soft.
It’s raw. Desperate. Heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.
His lips press against yours with an urgency that steals your breath, like he’s trying to pour everything he feels into this moment. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he wants to lose himself in you, in the feeling of you alive and warm in his arms.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, anchoring him to you, and he sighs into your mouth—a broken, trembling sound that sends a shiver down your spine.
When you finally pull back, foreheads pressed together, Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, uneven and ragged.
He’s still shaking.
And you hold him tighter, letting him feel it all.
The flashing red and blue lights spill across the pavement as the police cars screech to a stop.
Jungkook pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist, like he’s reluctant to break contact. His eyes search yours, and for the first time since this nightmare began, you see something unshakable in them.
Taehyung’s screams cut through the air as he thrashes against the officers, his wrists locked in cold steel. His voice is hoarse, spewing empty threats, venom dripping from every syllable—
“This isn’t over!” he snarls. “You think you can take her from me?”
Jungkook doesn’t react. He doesn’t even spare Taehyung a glance.
Instead, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingers lightly against your cheek, grounding himself in the fact that you’re safe.
His voice, when he finally speaks, is low, steady. A quiet promise.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
And for the first time you believe him.
Because this isn’t the same Jungkook who was oblivious, who used to let things slide, the one who always saw the good in people even when they didn’t deserve it.
This is the Jungkook who stood his ground.
The Jungkook who fought for you.
And if the world ever tried to take you away from him again, he wouldn’t hesitate.
The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of late morning light. Birds flit between the branches, their songs blending with the gentle rustling of leaves. A cool breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of freshly baked pastries from the open basket beside you.
Jungkook sits across from you on the checkered picnic blanket, absently poking at his croissant with a fork. His knuckles are bandaged and a faint bruise lingers on his cheek just below the strip of medical tape.
You watch him, waiting.
He hasn’t said much about it. But the way he holds himself now, shoulders squared just a little more, gaze a little steadier it feels different.
“You know,” you start, plucking a strawberry from the fruit bowl and tossing it into your mouth. “For once, I wasn’t the one saving your ass.”
Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t remind me,” he mutters, but there’s a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “I’m still getting used to it.”
“You should be proud,” you tell him, shifting onto your knees so you’re closer. “Not just because you fought. But because you didn’t let him win.”
Jungkook exhales, rolling his jaw like he’s still processing the weight of it. “I used to think…” He hesitates, gaze flickering down to his hands. “That I’d never be the kind of guy who could protect someone. That I’d always be the loser who let things slide.”
You reach out, fingers curling over his bandaged knuckles, squeezing gently. “You were never a loser, Jungkook.”
You trace a light touch over the bruise on his cheek. “And if you’re measuring strength by how many fights you win, you’re missing the point.”
Jungkook’s lips twitch, his fingers tightening around yours. “Oh yeah? And what’s the point, then?”
“That you were strong even before this,” you murmur. “You didn’t need to throw a punch to prove that. But I think… you finally see it now, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but the tension in his shoulders eases. Then, with a soft chuckle, he tilts his head and smirks. “So what you’re saying is… you’re swooning over me right now.”
You roll your eyes, but your laugh gives you away. “Unbelievable. One heroic moment and your ego skyrockets.”
“What can I say?” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I’m basically a knight in shining armor now.”
You groan. “You’re literally covered in bandages, Jungkook.”
“Battle scars,” he corrects smugly.
“You are so—”
He cuts you off with a kiss.
His lips taste like the strawberries you were just eating, but there’s something else too, something warmer. The quiet relief of knowing you’re here. That you’re safe. That you chose him, again and again.
When you finally pull away, Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, exhaling quietly. “I wouldn’t hesitate,” he murmurs. “If it ever happens again. If the world ever tries to take you away from me.”
Your heart clenches. You press a kiss to his bruised cheek, whispering against his skin. “I know.”
For a while, you just sit there, basking in the quiet hum of the park, in the way his fingers stay laced with yours. The past still lingers, but it doesn’t hold you down.
If possible, could you do a reading/headcanon whichever (I am not sure ( ；∀；)) for TXT when drunk?
I think it will be cute (^～^;)ゞ
Thank you!!
TXT When Drunk
Yeonjun
𖤓 Somehow Yeojun is the type to always look put together when he even when hammered and that's because he has a good tolerance and also a good self control on how to present himself
𖤓 To the point that even when he is trying to talk with others he can still be logical while wasted. and when people are asking him what he has been drinking he would shrug and say “water.” before going back to his philosophical conversations
𖤓 Biggest flirt in the room tho. Because even if he can be logic he can also use his charms. Yeojun will bat his eyelashes to that crush in the room, run a hand through his hair when the person is looking, and act like royalty because he knows he can
𖤓 It's important to know that at one point and depending on how wasted he is, he won't be always around. Yeonjun doesn’t just drink, he goes on an adventure. Will try to party-hop across the entire city or room or even depending on where he is
Soobin
𖤓 You can totally see when he is drunk. He is either totally spaced out or spilling his deepest thoughts with the room. Soobin might start talking about past lives or aliens or some random stuff that has people saying, "yep, he wasted"
𖤓 Also based on his chart, Soobin would talk in random tangents. “You know what’s crazy? TIME isn’t even REAL.” and he would proceed to give himself and everyone else a life crisis
𖤓 But be aware, because Soobin always starts out reserved. He is shy, he doesn't talk much as he focus on his drinks but once he drink enough? A party animal emerges from his inner self
𖤓 Flirts with EVERYONE IN THE DAMN ROOM. And the fact that he knows how to act, Soobin is smooth, elegant, and completely unaware of how much he is doing it until he realizes the next day what he has been to.
Beomgyu
𖤓 What is funny about Beomgyu is that he will try to act like he is not drunk, but his weirdness increases tenfold after he had a few drops of alcohol and it's just so visible-
𖤓 Depending on his previous mood, he can be the type to be either super social or suddenly deep in a bizarre conversation with the most random people.
𖤓 based on his Venus placements, it also seems like Beomgyu would be the type to flirt aggressively, as for example he would grab your face and say, “You’re SO hot. We should make out.” out of no where
𖤓 Super loud and unfiltered tho so you must be ready when you go out with Beomgyu to hear some crazy roasting facts. "Dude, I love you, but you’re kind of an idiot." kinda of confesses without doing it
Taehyun
𖤓 Taehyun is the type of person that will either drink in silence while analyzing the room and the people in the party, or goes full on chaos mode. No in-between.
𖤓 Based on his chart, he would usually start off serious an trying to look under control but Taehyun gets funnier as he drinks and ultimately when he is drunk he becomes half a clown.
𖤓 Taehyun isn't the type to flirt traditionally when he is wasted but people are still weirdly drawn to him. perhaps it's because of the way he looks or the way he is just letting go of his free spirit that makes people drawn to him
𖤓 he would also either starts a fight with someone for something super stupid (he can be aggressive when wasted) or a drinking competition with whoever is in the party. again, there’s no in-between.
Kai
𖤓 Honestly Kai is the type you can confess to when he is drunk because he will take secrets to the grave. Plus, good luck getting him to admit how drunk he is, he will be In denial.
𖤓 Kai also the type to give everyone advice like a therapist even when people didn't ask him anything. “See, your problem is, you don’t set boundaries.” he would start and sometimes he can make sense
𖤓 obviously and based on his chart, he would also try and flirt like he is in a rom com. “I think I was meant to meet you tonight.” he would try out and god he would be embarrassed on the next day
𖤓 it's important to point out that when he is drunk, Kai loves being the center of attention. he will start a speech or do a backflip just because.
The streets of Paris pulmed with life, the heart of Fashion Week beating through every avenue. And Hani was excited to attend with Hoshi.
After the dazzling Gucci show, where they sat front row dressed in stunning couture, the night blurred into the exclusive after-party on a rooftop terrace, with the Eiffel Tower glittering in the background. Hani had felt lighter than she had in weeks, the champagne buzzing in her veins, her auburn hair cascading in loose waves down her back. She wore a sleek black-and-gold Gucci dress that shimmered under the lights, while Hoshi, in his sharp suit, had turned heads left and right.
“You looked like you were about to trip on that runway model’s dress,” Hani teased, leaning into Hoshi as they laughed together, their bond evident in their comfortable banter.
“I swear that thing was a mile long!” Hoshi chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he clinked his champagne glass against hers.
The two of them had always been close—best friends since they’d met in the industry, but tonight, their friendship was a source of comfort amidst the glamour. The laughter came easily, the shared inside jokes about the absurdity of the fashion world providing relief from the chaos that usually surrounded them.
Hours passed, champagne flowed, and soon they found themselves drunkenly dancing together under the Parisian stars. As the night wore on, they stumbled out of the party, arms linked, still laughing at the ridiculousness of the night.
By the time they reached Hoshi’s hotel, they were giggling uncontrollably, both far too tipsy to walk a straight line. “I think I left half my brain at that party,” Hani joked, leaning into him as they stepped into the hotel lobby.
“Same. Maybe it’s still by the bar,” Hoshi teased, holding her up as they wobbled toward the elevator. The staff gave them knowing smiles as they passed, recognizing the two idols from earlier in the night.
When they finally made it to Hoshi’s suite, Hoshi fumbled with the key card, his fingers slipping. “Ugh, why are these things so hard when you’re drunk?”
Hani leaned against the doorframe, giggling. “Maybe it’s because we’ve had about five glasses of champagne each.”
The door finally clicked open, and they stumbled into the room, immediately kicking off their shoes. Hani groaned in relief, sinking onto the plush couch. “Why do I wear heels? This is torture.”
Hoshi dropped down beside her, letting out a sigh as he stretched out his legs. “I don’t know how you do it. I can barely handle my sneakers.”
For a moment, they just sat there, catching their breath and letting the buzz of alcohol settle. The lights of Paris filtered in through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room. It felt comfortable, natural. Hani and Hoshi had always had this ease between them, where even silence felt like home.
“You know,” Hani began, her voice slightly slurred from the champagne, “we make a pretty good team.”
“Best team,” Hoshi agreed, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “We should make this a regular thing—Paris, fashion shows, getting drunk together.”
“Only if you promise to never let me wear heels this high again,” Hani said, laughing as she lifted one of her discarded shoes and tossed it onto the floor.
“I promise,” Hoshi chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch.
For a while, they stayed like that, side by side, their laughter softening into quiet smiles as they soaked in the warmth of their friendship. The weight of the night settled in, the combination of champagne and exhaustion making them feel giddy and a little reckless.
“I’m not ready to crash just yet,” Hoshi said suddenly, turning to look at her. His eyes were bright, still sparkling with that playful energy.
Hani raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe a drink from the minibar?” Hoshi suggested with a mischievous grin.
Hani rolled her eyes but got up, feeling the soft plush carpet beneath her feet as she walked over to the minibar. “This is going to be dangerous.”
Grabbing two mini bottles of whiskey, she made her way back to the couch. They clinked their bottles together before taking long sips, grimacing at the burn. “That’s terrible,” Hani coughed, laughing as she set the bottle down. “Why do we keep drinking?”
“Because it’s fun,” Hoshi replied, laughing as he wiped his mouth.
As they continued to drink, the room filled with their laughter again, both of them slowly sinking deeper into the couch. Their limbs were tangled as they leaned into each other, their faces close. Hani could feel her cheeks warming, not just from the alcohol but from the proximity.
“This night has been perfect,” Hoshi said softly, his words slightly slurred, yet genuine.
Hani smirked, looking at him with hazy eyes.
Hoshi tilted his head, grinning, and without a second thought, he leaned closer, his hand brushing against her arm as their laughter softened. Hani could feel the heat rising in her face, the alcohol making her bolder than usual. They were best friends, they’d never crossed this line before, but something about tonight felt different. Free.
Her heart raced as Hoshi’s lips grazed hers, both of them smiling as their giggles faded. It started as a soft kiss, tentative and playful, but quickly deepened as their hands moved to explore each other. Hani could feel the warmth of his touch as his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her closer.
They broke apart briefly, laughing against each other’s lips. “I think we’re still drunk,” Hani whispered breathlessly, her forehead resting against his.
“Still drunk,” Hoshi agreed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand slid down to her waist, and before she knew it, he was pulling her into his lap, their lips finding each other again in a more heated kiss.
Hani giggled, running her fingers through his hair, the room spinning around them. The sensation of his body pressed against hers sent a rush of adrenaline through her. It was messy, unplanned, but neither of them seemed to care.
Hoshi’s lips trailed down her neck, soft kisses making her skin tingle as she let out a quiet laugh. “This is a terrible idea,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
“The worst,” Hoshi agreed between kisses, his voice low and teasing.
The kiss deepened, heat blooming between them as Hani shifted closer, fingers twisting in the fabric of Hoshi’s shirt. His hands skimmed her waist, gentle but firm, like he was savouring. She could still taste the alcohol on his lips, mixed with something unmistakably him, familiar and comforting in a way that made her stomach flip.
Then, suddenly, he pulled back. His breath was heavy, his forehead nearly resting against hers as he searched her face, his eyes dark and laced with something unspoken.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, more serious beneath the haze of alcohol.
Hani blinked at him, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew what he meant, what this was. They weren’t drunk enough to forget, not so gone that this wouldn’t mean something, even if it wasn’t something serious.
She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing the line of his jaw and feeling bold. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I trust you.”
That was all he needed. A slow smile spread across his lips, soft and knowing. They both knew this was just for fun, just a moment between two people who had spent years orbiting each other, always close but never like this. And tonight, in Paris, away from everyone else, it felt like the perfect time to cross that line.
Hoshi didn’t hesitate. He hooked an arm under her legs and lifted her effortlessly, making her squeal. “Yah!” she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Warn a girl next time!”
He grinned, carrying her toward the bed with ease. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He tossed her onto the plush mattress, and she bounced slightly, laughing as he crawled over her. The weight of him, the press of his body against hers, it should have felt strange, but it didn’t. It was just them, tangled in laughter and alcohol and the thrill of the moment.
She reached for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as he chuckled against her neck. “You’re so bad at this,” he teased, taking over, undoing them with practiced ease.
“Shut up,” she muttered, shoving the fabric off his shoulders before running her hands down his chest, her nails scratching lightly over his skin. He inhaled sharply, his smirk faltering for just a second.
Hani grinned, victorious. “Sensitive?”
“Shut up,” he shot back, flipping them over so she was straddling him now.
Her dress was the next to go, the silky material slipping from her shoulders as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns along her back. She sighed into it, her hands in his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the low groan he made in response.
Hoshi’s fingers traced the straps of her bra, his touch featherlight as he dragged them down her arms. He was taking his time, teasing her like he had all night, like he enjoyed seeing how much patience she didn’t have.
Hani huffed, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re slow on purpose.”
He grinned, “Maybe.”
With one quick motion, he unclasped her bra, letting it slip away between them. His gaze flickered over her, dark and unreadable, before he leaned in again, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses down her collarbone, over the curve of her breast, taking his time even as her hands roamed over his back, nails pressing in just enough to make him exhale sharply.
His fingers skimmed lower, teasing the waistband of her panties, brushing over the fabric. Hani let out a frustrated sound, her hips shifting instinctively toward his touch, and he laughed—a low, knowing sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’re so impatient,” he murmured, fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric, teasing over sensitive skin in a way that had her breath catching.
“And you talk too much,” she shot back, but her voice wavered, betraying her. She mumbles a frustrated “Soonyoung” and takes matters into her own hands or at least tries.
Hani tugged at the waistband of his boxers, fingers fumbling in her drunken state. She let out a frustrated huff when they didn’t budge the way she wanted.
Hoshi smirked, his hands covering hers as he helped her. “It’s cute how frustrated you’re getting,” he teased.
She shot him a glare, her lips curving despite herself. “Please just help me.”
He chuckled and obliged. Before she could get another quip in, he flipped them again, pinning her beneath him. His breath was warm against her skin, lips ghosting over her collarbone, teasing but never quite giving her what she wanted.
Her breath hitched when his fingers dipped just below the fabric, moving in delicate, deliberate strokes, barely grazing where she needed him most.
A frustrated sound escaped her lips, and she instinctively grabbed his wrist, her fingers tightening around him. “Fuck,” she breathed, her voice breaking.
That made him smile. Smirk, really. That same smug, knowing expression he always had when he won a game, when he got the last word in an argument—when he knew he had the upper hand.
“Want me to stop?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over her jaw, his breath warm against her skin.
She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “No.”
His smile widened. “Good.”
He finally hooked his fingers into the fabric, moving slowly—agonizingly slowly—as he slid them down her legs. Hani lifted her hips to help, then kicked them off the rest of the way, her skin flushing as the last barrier between them disappeared.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Hoshi hovered over her, his gaze dragging over her body, his expression unreadable. Then, he met her eyes again, something softer flickering beneath the mischief.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere.
Hani felt heat rush to her face—not from his touch, but from his words. She turned her head, pressing her palm against his chest as if to push him away, though she didn’t actually apply any force. “Don’t,” she muttered, embarrassed.
Hoshi just chuckled, dipping his head to press a kiss to her lips. “I’m serious,” he murmured against her skin. “My beautiful best friend.” His fingers trailed lazily down her side, a touch so light it sent a shiver through her. “You’re so talented, too. You don’t hear that enough.”
Hani let out a breath, shaking her head slightly. “You’re drunk and you’d hurt Seungkwan’s feelings if he knew you called me your best friend,” she teased, trying to deflect, but her voice was softer now, touched by something she couldn’t quite name.
He hummed, nosing at her cheek before tilting her chin back toward him. “Maybe.” His lips ghosted over hers, barely there, just enough to tease. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. And for God’s sake don’t bring up Seungkwan right now.”
Hani felt the heat creeping up her neck, pooling in her chest, her stomach twisting at the tenderness in his voice when he complimented her. He wasn’t just teasing her anymore. He meant it.
She didn’t know what to do with that. With him looking at her like that. With the way his fingers traced over her skin like she was something delicate, something precious.
So, flustered and unable to find a clever response, she blurted the only thing she could think of.
“Fuck, Soonyoung, can you just fuck me already?”
For a second, there was silence. Then—
A slow, lazy grin stretched across his face, something smug and entirely too pleased with himself. “Wow,” he murmured, dragging his lips over her jaw, “I never thought the Hani of BTS would be begging me like this.”
Hoshi didn’t make her wait any longer. He reached between her thighs, fingers teasing, making sure she was ready—because, as he put it with a grin, he was a gentleman.
Hani let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she looked up at him. “A gentleman?” she repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Of course. What else would you call it?”
She bit her lip, unable to stop the amused shake of her head. “Unbelievable.”
But the teasing faded into something quieter, something heavier, as she reached for him, her fingers sliding over his skin, guiding him closer.
For a second, they just looked at each other—still smiling, still caught in the absurdity of the moment, but underneath it, there was something else. Not serious, not overwhelming, just undeniable.
Hoshi’s gaze flickered over her face, as if making sure, one last time. But Hani didn’t hesitate.
“C’mon, Soonie,” she whispered, her voice softer now, more certain.
That was all he needed. Hoshi’s expression shifted—there was no more teasing, no more playful grin. The moment shifted, becoming heavier, more intense. He moved slowly at first, making sure she was completely with him, his hands anchoring themselves to her body like he wanted to keep her close, as if he was afraid she might slip away.
Hani’s breath caught as he entered her, the heat of it making everything else fade. It was messy and raw in the best way, the world outside the room ceasing to exist except for the rhythm they created together. The laughter, the teasing—everything was forgotten. It was just them, tangled up in the moment, each touch, each movement pulling them deeper into something they didn’t need to understand.
The room seemed to close in around them, leaving only the sounds of their breaths, the frantic beats of their hearts, and the connection between them. It was wild in its own way, neither of them holding back, the tension building with every movement.
She clung to him, feeling the weight of his body over hers, the intensity of his touch. Neither of them spoke, not needing to. Every kiss, every shift of their bodies told them everything they needed to know.
It was easy. It was just right.
They got lost in the feeling—the sensation of it, of each other. They were a mess of limbs and laughter, kissing and teasing in between stolen breaths. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, it was fun. Comfortable in a way that only came from knowing someone inside and out.
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft streaks of light across the room. Hani woke up groggy, her head heavy with sleep, the lingering warmth of last night still in her body. The familiar scent of Hoshi’s cologne—a mix of cedarwood and musk—was still there, enveloping her in the cocoon of his presence.
Her gaze moved slowly, landing on the sight of Hoshi, his arm slung lazily over her waist. He was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. For a moment, she just stared at him, still adjusting to the reality of where she was—and what they had done.
As the fog of sleep cleared, the memory of the night before flooded her mind, vivid and sudden. The laughter, the heat, the way they’d fallen into each other so easily. Her stomach twisted with a mix of confusion and amusement.
She sighed softly, shifting under his arm, careful not to wake him. But the soft, teasing smile that tugged at her lips wouldn’t fade. What a night, she thought, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.
She glanced at the clock—a couple hours until their flight
Gently, she nudged him, her fingers tapping lightly against his shoulder. “Soonyoung,” she murmured, poking him again when he didn’t stir.
He groaned softly, burrowing deeper into the pillow, a soft laugh escaping him. “Mmm… just five more minutes.”
Hani laughed quietly, but it was more of a nervous laugh than she intended. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself right now. They had crossed a line, something that had been so easy last night, but now there was a layer of awkwardness settling in.
“We have a flight in a couple hours,” she reminded him gently, her voice soft but firm.
Hoshi blinked his eyes open, blinking up at her in surprise for a moment before letting out a long breath. “Right.”
His gaze flickered around the room for a second, then back to her. A small, amused grin crept up on his face, but there was something unreadable behind his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place.
They both knew they would laugh about it later. The absurdity of it all. The teasing, the way they had both acted without thinking, with no expectation of anything afterward.
But for Hoshi, there was a quiet knot in his stomach, something that hadn’t been there before.
As he looked at Hani, his thoughts drifted to Wonwoo. He was pretty sure his fellow member had always had a crush on Hani. It actually was quite obvious. He’d noticed the little things—how Wonwoo’s eyes lingered when he thought no one was watching, how he got a little quieter whenever she was around. Hoshi had seen it enough times to recognize it for what it was.
But Hani didn’t know.
And now, Hoshi was the one who’d shared something with her. Something intimate. Something unexpected.
A weight settled in his chest, one he wasn’t sure how to deal with. He felt guilty even if Wonwoo has yet to say anything about his feelings.
“Hey,” Hani said, shifting again, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You good?”
He smiled, trying to shake the nagging feeling in his chest. “Yeah, just thinking about the flight.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
He gave her a sheepish smile, though there was a hint of guilt behind it, the knot in his stomach only tightening. “Yeah.”
But he didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t the right time and he knew Wonwoo wasn’t ready.
Hoshi sighed as he pushed himself up from the bed, his muscles groaning slightly as he stretched. He glanced over at Hani, who was now sitting up in the bed, her hair disheveled, and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I’ll make you coffee,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep, the usual cheerfulness starting to seep back in. He walked over to the small counter area of the hotel room, intent on avoiding the awkwardness that hung in the air between them.
Hani stretched her arms over her head, letting out a small yawn, before calling out, “You know, I didn’t think we’d be waking up to coffee after… well…”
She paused for a beat, her tone light and teasing, and then she added with a wink, “After that wild night we had.”
The air in the room shifted, and Hoshi let out a startled laugh, his shoulders relaxing at her ability to lighten the mood. He turned around to look at her, his own grin returning as he leaned against the counter.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be a gentleman,” he joked, though the playful lilt in his voice didn’t completely mask the small knot of guilt he felt. “Coffee is the least I can do.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his attempt at staying formal. “A gentleman, huh?” she laughed, shaking her head. “Right. Well, next time you’re the one making that offer, make sure there’s a breakfast included.”
Hoshi chuckled, shaking his head as he started the coffee maker. “Deal.”
The teasing tone between them made it clear that, despite the intimacy of last night, things between them hadn’t changed. There was no tension, no awkwardness that lingered in the air like he had feared. They were still the same—Hoshi and Hani, their friendship and the playful banter still intact.
Even with everything that had happened, there was no need for awkward explanations or stilted conversations. It was just another chapter in the story of their dynamic.
“You’re not weirded out by last night, are you?” Hoshi asked, his voice casually drifting over to her as he fiddled with the coffee machine.
Hani looked up from where she was now pulling on her shoes, her expression thoughtful but not uncomfortable. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “No. I mean, it was fun, wasn’t it? And I trust you. I know you won’t make it uncomfortable.”
He met her eyes and smiled, feeling the tension in his chest slowly unraveling. “Yeah, exactly. Nothing’s changed.”
“Exactly,” she echoed.
As Hoshi prepared the coffee, he realized that while last night was a blur of heat and laughter, it was still just another part of the bond they shared.
You wake up to him jumping up and down on the bed.
“Tae! Tae!” You scream into your pillow, immediately annoyed with him already ruining your plans for the morning. He is fully clothed, already back from a run.Still you don’t lift your head so, he flops down into a cross legged pose. You can now see he’s holding his breakfast, a red apple.
“Are you happy now?” He asks with a little bit of sass as he tucks your hair away from your face.
“No.” you pout stubbornly , finally rolling over. “What are we going to do today?” you say gently tugging the sheet over your nipples.
“Whatever you want.” he says, taking a small bite of his apple and using one finger to pull down the sheet ,back to it’s original position. He looks down at you smugly.
He had essentially been leading the honeymoon since he had been everywhere. You were happy there were so many places he had wanted to share with you. But, today was the first day where it seemed as though things would be more relaxed.
“Up!” he commands, slapping you on the ass and heading towards the bathroom. You watch the crack in the door as he bites the apple in his mouth,simultaneously sliding his shorts down his tanned legs. His hair flutters out from his forehead and you admire the muscles contracting on his side and arms. He moves to turn on the shower and you watch as the steam pools into the bathroom.
“Fuck” you whisper under your breath,sinking further into the mattress. You get up and gently pad your way towards the bathroom, quietly brushing your teeth and enjoying his shower song as he hums to himself. His song becomes quieter before he stops altogether.
“I think I know what the plan is for today.” he says after turning off the water. You had zoned out momentarily admiring his half eaten apple on the counter.
“What’s that?” you ask, spitting in the sink and washing out your mouth, regaining consciousness.
“ I think” he reaches up pulling a towel down from over the shower door
“ We should go shopping for you. Girls like that right?”he asks jokingly , knowing he loves to shop more than anyone you have ever met. Well….aside from Hobi.
“Sure.” you laugh, rinsing out your mouth and drying your face for the last time. He comes up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head before resting his chin there. He smiles at you in the mirror, his chubby cheeks making you roll your eyes. His ability to be effortlessly cute was your hardest of his talents to ignore, especially when he used it to his advantage.
“Get ready!” he says, backing away and slapping you on the ass……..again.
“Tae!” you scream but he's already ran out of the room.
You let out an exhale outside of the store. He was carrying bags and paying for everything. Not that you were surprised , this is how he acted in public since your very first date but, going into a lingerie store with him , you knew the public was bound to hear about it. Whether it came out during your trip or was polite enough to wait until you got home. There was a Frenchman holding open the door to the store and he greeted you with a smile. You were still too deep in thought to continue forward.
“Hey hey…” he walked towards you calmly , picking up on your stress.
“This is our last stop, I think you’ll like it here.” he continues, You looked at him and rolled your eyes, knowing more than anything he would like it there. You stepped inside the small french shop, immediately amazed by the caliber and quality of the material. Some of these sets actually looked sturdy, like something you could feel confident in. You knew you were beautiful . You knew Tae worshipped your body but, it also didn’t escape you that he was a kpop idol heralded for his looks and sense of fashion. The world had made it clear that you were not the woman they had expected.Something about being perceived that way was harder to grasp than the fact that you had married an international superstar.
“Tae, how expensive is this stuff?” you can tell he is immediately pleased by your shock.
There were handcrafted dominatrix outfits, leather bustiers daintily draped over faceless mannequins and other displays.The man who held the door open asked if everything was to his liking in french. He replied back, which as far as you knew was the extent of his french but, you were impressed nonetheless. The man then left the room through a door on the opposing side, the old door making a very loud locking sound. And you looked at Tae in surprise. You followed him to the center of the store as he sat in an exaggerated royal looking chair. You almost couldn’t even hear the paparazzi anymore. This far into the store felt safe. You stood next to him, continuing to survey the room. He crossed his legs, turning to you.
“Y/N” he says roughly “ I want you to pick something.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his tone. He raised his eyebrows in your direction, punctuating his request.
You walked through the avant garde aisles for a bit but you knew you were picking a piece that had stunned you the second you walked through the door. As you made your way towards it. It suddenly dawned on you that everything in the store was your size. Your least favorite color wasn’t even in the room. Not one garment had been made that didn’t seem like your style. This was the moment of realization that Tae had commissioned this entire outing. You grabbed your lingerie and rushed back to where his chair was, nearly tripping over his foot in the process.
“Why are you running?” he looked confused but smiled at your childish antics.
“Did you rent this entire place and commission the designer to make things specifically for me ?” you questioned. The look on your face must have been absolutely priceless because he lets out the most guttural laugh ,clapping his hands and doubling over in the chair.
“Yes, and I’m glad you don’t think it’s too much .” he shrugged, beginning to blush. The redness at his neck and in his cheeks was always a dead giveaway that he was just as infatuated with you as you were with him. He extended a hand to you “I’m so glad you’re my wife.” he smiles , pulling you into his chair. He adjusts his legs and you stand between them, bending down to kiss him in the chair. He smells good as always and your heart flutters the same way it does everytime he kisses you. You begin to straddle him, working towards sitting on top of him when you hear his protests.
“No, no , no” he whispers “ I want to see this on.”
You smiled, immediately catching on to what he was thinking.
“Where do I go?” you say popping up and he points to a curtain behind him.
“I can help if you need me to” he says , the tiniest bit of honesty mixed in with his dirty thoughts.
“ I can do it.” You say confidently , turning on your heels.
You were out in no time.Hangups and personal insecurities aside, this is what you and Tae excelled at. Your understanding of each other's bodies was one of the first things that drew you to one another. He smiled like a kid when he saw you.
“I like this one.” he says, smile widening. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the small bit of collarbone and peck that are peeking out from under his dress shirt and you can tell he notices that you are eyeing him.
“Actually” he gets up headed towards you. He takes your hand, pulling you back towards the dressing room. He spins you into the oversized dressing room, pulling the curtain behind you. Quickly he pins you between him and the wall. Your hands find their way to his tiny waist and you make quick work of lifting up his shirt and pressing your hands to the warmth of his core. His kiss deepens and lets out a slight moan into your mouth, as he can’t help but be overwhelmed by the heat between the two of you. He holds your face in one hand and kisses your neck with the other. His lips are so soft, your eyes begin to roll back in your head.
“I love you .” he whispers into your neck. These words have the effect of making your insides melt. His skin was flawless and gentle against yours, his lips puffy from the pressure of the two of you meeting over and over again. You reach a hand down, into his pants and you can feel his cock straining, begging to be set free. You quickly undo his pants and slide your hand down to meet the delicate skin of his member. He shudders at your touch but, releases the most guttural moan of pleasure you have ever heard from him. He grabs your face with both hands, pushing you back into the wall and kissing you deeply. He rolls himself into your hand as you feel his hands begin to shift. He pulls your teddy to the side and ingles himself at your opening. Your body is begging for him and he smiles to himself at your neediness.
“What do you want?” he asks patiently.
“Come on” you respond in frustration .
“I won’t do it unless you tell me you want me to.” he whispers.
Your eyes looked up to meet his, he was so earnest. He wanted you to beg for him. In the insanity that had become the beginning of your marriage he longed for the connection.
“Please- Please fuck me” you choked out.
“You can be louder baby .” he smiled back in response.
“Please fuck me right now , in the dressing room I-”
Your pleas turned into a moan as he entered you.
“Good girl, shhh.shhh.” he cooed slowly rocking into you. He steadied his hips and his eyes on you , going through every moment with you, reading your eyes to know if pressure was to much or just enough.
“neowaui yeongyeol-eun jib-ida” he said under his breath. Your korean was good but, still some cultural sayings stumped you.
“neowaui yeongyeol-eun jib-ida” he says again, before kissing you. He stops you from getting to ask again with his hands are tangled in your hair. You begin to let out guttural noises as he holds your throat and your opposing hip to wall while claiming your body.After a few more thrusts he comes inside of you ,out of breath, you push back the damp hairs on his forehead and kiss it, in exasperation. You both laugh at eachother, at the power of the moment as it fades.
“Are you sure there aren’t others you wanted to try?” he asks jokingly.
You look up at him innocently and say “ I think we should try them all on…..back at the hotel.”
He smiles, kissing you deeply again . Eventually, you pull back looking at him, knowing he is much to popular of a public figure for this to continue.
“Okay” he nods sighing into a smile as you pull apart and attempt to make yourself presentable again. The honeymoon was just beginning.
“You are having one of those days where you feel like the ugliest, most appalling person to ever exist. Taehyung wants to do everything in his power to make you see how beautiful you actually are.”
Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort, Fluff
Warnings: kinda body dysphoria because she sees flaws and "ugly spots" where there are none yk, just in general insecurities, Tae being the most loving and caring and understanding boyfriend ever, he makes her feel good again, omfg i love him so much
Wordcount: 1.5k
a/n: is this once again self-indulgent cause i'm going through it lately? Yes. JSJSJS somebody help, Tae help. no but seriously, i hope this can cheer up anyone who is having one of those days <3 we are all baddies eventhough our minds wanna tell us otherwise 💜
Taehyung is drawn to your clothing room because of sniffles and frustrated huffs.
The door is ajar and music is playing, but you have your back turned to him. The floors and surfaces are covered in pieces of clothing. You are in nothing but your underwear, currently standing in front of the mirror and poking parts of your body as if disgusted by them.
He knocks gently so as not to startle you.
“Darling, do not frighten. It is me. I heard sniffles and I wanted to check on you. Is everything alright?”
You turn, giving view to your reddened eyes and runny nose.
“No, I’m weird and disgusting and the ugliest person to ever exist.”
“Excuse me? No, you are not. Darling”, Taehyung gasps and closes the distance in big stomps. He takes your hands. “What madness are you spouting? You are neither ugly nor disgusting. Why would you say this about yourself?”
“I feel so ugly.”
“Well, just because you feel like it, does not mean that you are.” He wipes your tears. “You are so beautiful and pretty.”
“Thanks, yeah. I just can’t see it right now. I don’t feel good about myself. I feel like my face is weird and my hair is always either too greasy or too frizzy and my body is shaped weird and my boobs are never boobying like other boobs do.”
“Oh goodness, this isn’t the truth at all.” He shakes his head. “Your face is beautiful, your hair is beautiful, the shape of your body is perfect and your breasts are very much boobying correctly.”
A small smile curls your lips.
“Thanks. Can I get a hug?”
“Of course you can get a hug, my darling”, Taehyung says and pulls you against his chest.
One must know that Taehyung has developed a love for working out. Lifting weights to be more exact. Which means that his chest and arms have grown rather impressively. This is important to mention because with his new physique, his hugs feel especially safe and healing. You feel protected and supported and overall like he is your strong man to lean on.
“Can I have a squeeze?”
Taehyung squeezes you gently, rubbing your back as he does.
You sigh in relief, sinking deeper into his embrace.
“Tae, I don’t like when I feel like this”, you mumble into him while he listens and rubs your back, “I’m pretty sure it’s just my hormones or the moon phase and I’m just being dramatic, but it’s still real right now and it makes me feel bad.”
“Of course it does and hormonal changes aren’t to be taken lightly. You aren’t dramatic, my darling, your feelings are valid no matter if they are of hormonal origin or not.”
“Thank you for saying this. I needed validation that I’m not just a crazy woman.”
“Don’t do that. Woman is not an insult. Goodness, you are truly speaking nonsense today”, he says and pats your butt, “I shall spank your butt for being mean to yourself and women.”
You snicker, looking into his eyes. He smiles sweetly, all while his hand gives your butt the softest of pats.
“Bad girl, do not speak ill of your gender”, he scolds you jokingly.
“I deserve that, I agree.”
“Indeed. Just as you deserve this”, he says and smooches your cheeks. “Mwuah. For being pretty and very beautiful. Mwuah.”
You giggle, chasing his affection. He meets your eyes, gazing and smiling. It lasts just a few seconds and then frustration fills your chest again.
“Urgh Tae, I don’t like how I feel. Urgh”, you say and drop your head against him, “I don’t know if I can go on the date tomorrow. I don’t know what to wear. I feel so ugly and I’m at my limit.”
“Goodness, I hate to see you this way. Shall I help you?”
“Help me?”
“Yes. You shall sit by the powder table and I shall pick out an outfit which will make you feel pretty again.”
“Oh. Okay, yeah I’d like that.”
“Very good then. Sit, my darling and I will find you an outfit.”
He hurries around the room for a bit and returns with a skirt and sweater look. He helps you put it on, explaining why he chose this look as he works on getting the folds right.
“I chose this because the sweater sits very nicely around your breasts. Look at them. They are very booby in it.”
You snicker, agreeing with a shy nod. He is not wrong. They sit very nicely.
“And I combined the skirt with it because when I ask you to dance in the park, it will move prettily.”
“So you’ll ask me to dance?”
“Of course I will.” He says and slides his hand to your waist to turn you. He guides you left and right, showing you a glimpse of what tomorrow will bring.
“I love this idea, but…”
“You don’t like the outfit.”
“No, sorry. I think it sits weird on my shoulders and when I move, the sweater doesn’t stay tucked in and-” you huff out air, sagging your shoulders.
“This is no problem at all. Take it off. I shall find another one.”
He hurries back to the clothing racks, murmuring to himself how he could combine this with that and that with this. In the end, he returns with a body tight dress which you haven’t worn before.
“No, I’ll be too chilly.”
“This is no problem. Another look.”
He abandons the dress before you even put it on. He is murmuring again, taking this job very seriously.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m a lot.”
“I will ignore what you just said because you are neither a lot nor should you apologise. Ah yes! This will go perfectly with this.”
He hurries back to you.
“These pants with this blouse. It is elegant with a hint of sophistication and the red belt will give it a pop of colour.”
You put it on, turn and twist in front of the mirror and sigh in defeat.
“I feel like my tummy looks weird.”
“It doesn’t, but I shall find something else. I cannot have you feeling this way. It is not the truth, but sometimes it is best to make oneself feel pretty in other ways.”
His positive and judgement-free attitude surrounding your insecurities feels healing. Deep down you know that what your brain is telling you today is a lie. Deep down you know that you are pretty and that your body is not shaped weirdly. But it is difficult to agree when you feel just so shitty about yourself. Even if it will only last for today, tomorrow, this week. Right now, it is very real and it is so healing to have him attempt to tackle the issues without judging them or calling you crazy for them.
He returns with a cocky grin on his face.
“I feel it in my heart that this is going to be it. We have; your favourite colours, a poofy skirt, ruffles and” he lifts his pointer finger dramatically, “pockets”, he says and stuffs his hand into the skirt pocket.
You laugh, “wow okay, convincing argument.”
“It is indeed. Try it on and let me know how you feel.”
You twist and turn and study yourself.
“And?”
“I like the skirt, but the blouse looks weird on me. Urgh, it’s useless, I’m too ugly for life.”
“No you are not. You feel ugly, but you aren’t ugly. Take off the blouse, I will not give up until you feel pretty again.”
He hurries back to your shirts and tops and only returns once he is happy. He helps you slip it on, massaging your shoulders softly once you are dressed.
“You are beautiful, my darling”, he whispers, gazing at you with loving, sparkly eyes.
You look at yourself and you don’t hate what you see. As a matter of fact, you think that you look pretty.
“Tae, I like this.”
“You do?”
You nod your head, “I look pretty.”
“You do. You are. Oh darling, is this it?”
“I think it is. Wow, I can’t believe it. I actually have an outfit which makes me feel nice again.”
“I am so happy to hear this. Oh my darling”, he hugs you and kisses your cheek, “you are so beautiful and it hurts when you cannot see it. I am glad that I could help you feel better again.”
“You really could. Thank you. I know it took…wow an hour. I’m so sorry, I-”
“Hush, this was the best hour of my day”, he silences you and turns you in his arms. “Yes, sweetest? I could have spent ten hours on it and I still would have loved it. Yes?”
“Yes, okay”, you whisper, eyes sparkly.
“Yes.” He caresses your cheek. “Now, what shall we do for the rest of tonight? I cannot possibly leave you alone when you feel this way.”
“Honestly? If you helped me clean this mess up and then held me in bed, I would already be happy.”
“Then we shall do exactly that. And I will add a compliment each minute to it.”
You laugh, “okay, okay if you say so.”
“Mh-hm I do. Compliment number one. Your smile really brightens a room.”
You smile, heart fluttering.
“Thank you so much. God Tae sweetest, I love you”, you say and hug him.
“I love you too, my sweetest”, he purrs softly and hugs you back.
to be loved by taehyung ; a collection of thoughts
taehyung is the kind of guy who will go to the ends of the earth when he loves someone. he doesn't fall often but when he does, he falls hard. he's the type of guy to not realize he's leaning on your shoulder, the type of guy to not realize that he's drifted to your side like a magnet-- it just happens because his heart leads him to you. very detail-oriented, he doesn't even need to write down everything you like he just remembers. your favorite flower, the colors that you gravitate to when shopping, the type of music that makes you laugh, the name of your dentist that accidentally pulled the wrong tooth-- everything. his love surpasses just "love", he is enamored with you. he doesn't do short-term, long-term or nothing. date to marry or nothing.
aaa first time writing taehyung so if i flopped i'm sorry 😭
LOOK AT ME WRITING A SMUT! - trying. hope is gooood.
w.c: 1.8k ~
---
Running into Joel Miller months ago was both the best and worst thing that ever happened to you. I mean… he helps you, he protects you… but he’s a fucking hottie. A goddamn delicious man. And you can barely get close! He’s so moody, so pissed off about everything. You're in the end of the world, of course… but damn. It’s not easy.
Most of the time, he doesn’t even understand how he ended up letting a girl like you tag along on this survival journey. You’re much younger, and despite being strong and brave, you can be a real pain in the ass. You’re chatty, you make him hug you when it’s too cold (okay, he secretly likes that part), and you stop in the middle of nowhere just to say things like, "Oh, look! A hummingbird!"
A pain. In. The. Ass.
And today was no different. As you walked in search of food, you looked at him intently, thinking about how damn annoying he can be sometimes—or how it’s a total waste for someone that beautiful to be so grumpy all the time.
And then… well, then something crossed your mind.
How long has it been since Joel last had sex?
Like… you haven’t had sex in ages, but you have your ways of relieving yourself. And you doubt he even jerks off. Maybe all this frustration, all this grumpiness, comes from that.
Maybe.
"Joooeel…" you hummed in that way he knew all too well. He just glanced over his shoulder, signaling that he was listening.
"Can I ask you something? I know you’re gonna get mad, but—"
"Then no. I don’t feel like getting even madder." He cut you off, his voice rough, trying to shut you up.
But that never scared you.
"Please! I’m gonna start begging…" you threatened, knowing full well he hated when you begged.
"Just say it!" His tone turned even harsher. "And if I get mad, you’ll go find something to eat by yourself."
"Oh, stop. You would never leave me—" you picked up your pace, walking alongside him now. "So… how long has it been since you had sex?" You tried to sound casual, like you weren’t dying of curiosity. "Or, you know… something like that."
He stopped. Abruptly.
Like you had just punched him in the face.
You blinked up at him, waiting for an answer.
"Why don’t you just mind your own damn business?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes in that way that only made him hotter.
"I’m just asking! If you don’t wanna answer, that’s fine." You shrugged and started walking again. Moments later, you heard his footsteps behind you, along with a deep, frustrated sigh.
"I don’t know, okay?" His voice came after a long silence, just when you were already distracted. "I don’t even remember the last time I touched someone like that. And I have no idea when I last felt something like that."
You just nodded. But now? That was your goal. You were going to fuck this man. No matter what. When? You didn’t know. But you would.
-
You let it go—for now.
But after that day, something shifted. Maybe it was just in your head, maybe not. But you started noticing things.
The way Joel’s gaze lingered on you just a little longer when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his hand would rest on your lower back when he guided you through dark hallways or past abandoned cars. The way he sighed—deep, exasperated, but never truly angry—whenever you leaned too close, testing the limits of his patience.
And, most of all, the way he didn’t pull away. Not really.
Not when you brushed your fingers over his forearm while handing him his rifle. Not when you sat next to him by the fire, knees bumping under the weight of exhaustion. Not when you made those little jokes, the ones that pulled a rare, reluctant smirk from him, even if he shook his head afterward like he wished he could take it back.
And then, one night, it happened.
You’d just set up camp inside the shell of an old bookstore, a storm howling outside. The fire crackled between you, throwing soft shadows across his face. You could see every line there, every scar, every tired thing he’d never say out loud. He sat against the wall, boots planted on the ground, legs slightly spread. He looked exhausted. But awake. Watching you.
You sat across from him, hugging your knees, tilting your head.
"What?" he muttered.
"Nothing."
A pause. Then—
"Bullshit," he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.
You grinned, slow and lazy. "I was just thinking... if you can’t even remember the last time you touched someone, then maybe you’ve just forgotten how."
That got you a look. A dark, warning glance that made your stomach flip in the best way.
"Don’t start."
"I’m just saying—"
"No."
You pushed up onto your knees, crawling closer, testing the waters.
"Not even a kiss, Joel?" Your voice was softer now, teasing but not cruel. "No wonder you’re always so grumpy."
He tensed, fingers twitching against his knee. "You—"
"You could just let me remind you."
His breath hitched. Just barely.
You sat back on your heels, waiting. Letting him think. Letting him decide.
And then—slowly, cautiously, like he knew he was making a mistake—Joel reached out.
His fingers traced up the curve of your jaw, rough and calloused. You didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, afraid you might break the moment.
And then he kissed you.
It was careful at first, hesitant, like he was relearning something he used to be good at. But when you sighed against his lips, when your fingers found the back of his neck and pulled him closer—Joel groaned, low and deep, and that hesitation snapped like a thread pulled too tight.
His hand slid to your waist, gripping firmly, pulling you into his lap without a second thought. The heat of him seeped into your skin, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin.
And just like that, you knew. You were right. He had gone too long without this. Without you. And you were going to fix that.
The kisses were getting more and more intense and desperate. You couldn't afford to waste time.
In seconds, your blouse was thrown on the floor behind you, exposing your lack of bra and earning a little smile from him that you had never seen before. Desire. He attacked your breasts like no one had ever done before.
He massaged one, sucked, licked, and bit the other, while your moans were already too loud for your good. But fuck it.
You almost cried when you saw him taking off his shirt on top of you, his strong arms now fully exposed, his chest too delicious to be true.
You pulled him back to your lips, which this time was even more urgent. Soon, you were completely naked and desperate for each other.
"Are you sure?" He asked, lining himself up at your entrance. And you were already going crazy. You just wanted to be fucked.
"Of course! Just fuck me, please." You begged and watched as his eyes darken even more – if that was possible.
Without any further warning, he pushed inside you. Both of you let out heavy sighs. He was big. Really big. But you were so wet that you didn’t even feel him pushing it all in.
He didn’t move for a few seconds, as if he was savoring something he had wanted for so, so long.
“I know you’re having a moment. But please, Joel! Move!” You whimpered, holding one of his arms tightly.
You didn’t need to say anything else. You could feel every inch of him. Every vein. And how he was pulsing inside you. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him even deeper, if that was possible. His moans were like music to your ears. Low, heavy. “Fuck, that’s it… That’s it…” You clawed at his back in a delicious way. He lowered himself a little more, just enough to pull one of your nipples between his teeth, taking you over the edge. And making you scream.
The sound of the skin hitting each other was almost pornographic, making everything more intense with each moment.
He grabbed your leg and brought it up to his shoulder. This new angle took you to an absurd wave of pleasure, Joel caressed you all over. Your whole body. And he stopped under your belly, just to show off and feel his cock there, filling you.
“You’re fucking delicious…” He murmured between breaths. “So fucking hot… I’ve always wanted to fuck that little pussy of yours. Always.” That brought you to your orgasm. Obviously. Joel fucking Miller telling you that? With that voice? Fuck.
Without a warning, you came on his cock, moaning his name and making him delirious. He was euphoric and ready… ready to fill you. “Can I?” He asked, about cumming inside. It’s not the best option, but at that moment it was all you wanted. And you would have it. “Please… Fill me up.” You whimpered again, holding your own breasts, which made him lose it.
And in the next second, you felt the hot jets inside your walls. And then… Oh my. His expression. Completely lost in pleasure. He thrust a few more times and pulled out, only to look at your pussy spilling his cum. Totally filthy.
Joel collapsed onto his side beside you, chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. For a long moment, neither of you spoke—just the sound of the fire crackling, the storm still raging outside, and the quiet hum of satisfaction between you.
His arm draped lazily over his stomach, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or keep his distance.
You made the choice for him.
Rolling onto your side, you pressed your face against his shoulder, tracing light, absentminded patterns over his chest. His skin was warm, damp with sweat, and you felt the way his muscles tensed, then relaxed under your touch.
"Jesus," he muttered, voice rough. "You really don’t give up, do you?"
You grinned against his skin. "Nope."
His chuckle was barely there, but it was real. And you liked that. Liked knowing you could pull something soft from him, even now.
After a moment, he exhaled deeply and finally—finally—wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in, letting himself hold you.
"This doesn't change anything," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair.
You just hummed, pressing closer. "Sure, Joel."
You’d let him lie to himself for now. But you both knew the truth. This changed everything.
— relationship w cho sangwoo ☆ sfw + nsfw headcannons
warnings : mdni, nsfw
notes : first time writing headcannons on this account! hope yall like it and that no one thinks its really bad TT feel free to leave feedback <3 this is written with a female reader in mind but all genders are welcome!!
SFW . . . !
he'd love to take you to expensive or nice restaurants on his day offs.
he'd give you lots of gifts rather than words of affection since he has trouble expressing his feelings to anyone.
he'd would cuddle you after he finishes his work. he'd kiss your forehead and run his hands through his hair as you drift to sleep.
if you were cooking something for dinner, he'd come and help you.
he'd love to hold your hand or waist in public, making sure everyone knows you're his.
when someone else starts flirting with you, he'd get super jealous. he'd give them a glare and pull you closer to himself.
if he's away from home, he'd send you "good morning" and "good night" texts to you everyday.
he'd be the bigger spoon when cuddling in bed.
he'd have a picture of you in his wallet and on his phone wallpaper. he'd smile every time he sees it.
he trusts you a lot and would slowly start opening up to you about his problems but would still be careful to not burden you.
he would love to listen to your yapping.
he'd always let you pick a movie to watch together and he'd end up watching you instead of the movie.
he'd ask you questions about your interests just so he could hear you talk more. he finds it cute.
when you compliment him, he smile to himself and defend himself humbly. however, eventually he would give in and start teasing you back.
he'd love to shower with you together and help wash your hair.
NSFW . . . !
he'd give you LOTS of praise but mostly "good girl".
he definitely prefers being dom but would try out being sub if you wanted him to since he loves you.
he'd start soft and gentle but then start becoming rougher and rougher until you begin to cry out.
he'd love hearing you being vocal and reacting to his touch.
he'd make sure not to overstimulate you and be careful to not cause you any pain.
he'd collapse on top of you as he cums onto your stomach and kisses your neck.
he'd prefer to receive oral since he loves playing with your hair as you pleasure him, although of course he also loves to eat you out and pleasure you too.
he'd give the BEST after care. every time he'd make sure to clean you and everything up and shower you with love. he'd whisper sweet and affectionate words to you before falling asleep while holding each other close.
Thank you so much for reading! More coming soon . . ?
Summary: Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have. SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF
Pairings: Yoongi/Reader
Rating: it’s fucking explicit. 21+
Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral (both receiving), butt stuff (male receiving, its mild ass play during a blowjob don’t freak out), sex toys, angsty dumbass reader, sweet sweet patient saint of a man Yoongi
Word count: 5,325
A/N: i’m sorry that nothing i write will ever be as good as Sorry, bae. Enjoy this mess anyway. ILY.
He’s quiet. He’s always quiet. You’re a mess beneath him, all heavy panting and desperate pleas. He asks no questions, offers no endearments, the only sound he makes is his labored breath. You can barely tell when he cums. You have to watch him closely, try to catch that tick in his jaw before it happens. The only other tell is when his release starts dripping down your ass or if he goes soft. He doesn’t talk you through it, doesn’t tell you how good it feels. He’s quiet. This time is no different. You really should be used to it by now, but some small part of you sees it as failure. You wonder if he’s really enjoying himself more and more lately. He fucks you so good you can’t control the litany of filth spilling from your mouth, and somehow he remains stoic. His silence makes you feel self conscious. You tell yourself you’re not going to moan this time every time he sinks into your core. You never make it more than a few thrusts before you’re singing his praises. Doesn’t it feel that good for him?
huimang's wonder | jung hoseok x f!reader | a serendipitous life series
summary: you and hoseok figure out a way to tell huimang he is going to be a big brother in a language oly your boy of wonder will understand
pairing: hobi x f!reader [sunny]
tags/warning: pregnancy themes, talks of babies, me trying to write toddler dialogue
a/n: oh oh hello! bear with me friends as I find my groove in writing after many years off <3 this is anon's request i hope you enjoy it my friend ^.^
dad!bts series | a serendipitous life
The sun feels warm against your skin as you lay underneath a large tree, comforting you as a cool breeze brushes through the leaves.
Your eyes are closed, contentment resting on your face. Jovial chatters of your husband and toddler fill the air from a distance as they collect flowers. You chuckle at yourself, knowing full well that Huimang is handing barely sprouted dandelions to Hoseok who pockets them before his palm is too full.
“Mama!” The rasp of your son’s voice catches your ears, springing your head up in response. He stumbles forward as quickly as his feet allow him to while Hoseok strides behind him with a toothy smile.
You watch the dandelion between Huimang’s tiny fingers fly away with the afternoon breeze before he can reach you.
“Mama,” he says breathily, “Oh!”
Your husband giggles with you as your son inspects the now bare stem, wondering where the tufts of white fluff have gone. You brush Huimang’s hair out of his face to see his eyes better, “the wind caught it!”
His cheeks are bright pink, and his eyes are confused as he looks around. Hoseok softly pinches Huimang’s cheek. “We can find more later, baby.” He chuckles.
Huimang pouts for a moment, looking to you for reassurance; with a soft laugh and tug at your heart, you soothe his sorrow: “You worked hard, baby. We’ll get another.”
He sighs, dropping the stem before plopping himself into your lap.
You grunt at the pressure against your tummy, repositioning yourself before relaxing back against your husband, who has taken a seat behind you and is holding you in his arms.
In an undertone, you whisper to Hoseok, “Baby moves every time Huimang comes near.” You take his hand and place it against your small bump. He is awed at the feeling of gentle pads against your belly, “she’ll be active,” he suggests, “someone to keep up with this one.”
You roll your eyes laughing softly, “You are so sure the baby is a girl.”
Hoseok shrugs, a thin smile splayed across his lips, “just imagine, Huimang with a little sister.”
“We still need to tell him,” you start, both of you looking down at your son who’s taken to a small pile of leaves, making some sort of fort out of them.
“Huimang-ah,” your husband’s tone is careful but nothing short of love, “can you look at mama and papa?”
Dutifully, your toddler turns in your lap, sparkling eyes now looking up at you. You wonder how your husband will start, how he’ll explain something so intricate in a way that will make sense to such a young, impressionable mind. The thoughts ruminating move you to caress the soft skin of your son’s cheek, the pinkness of face making him look like the angel you are certain he is. He starts to play with your fingers when Hoseok starts.
“Do you know what a baby is, Huimang?” He asks.
Huimang’s bottom lip pops out, head cocked to one side as you watch the wheels turn in his head. You smile, eyes prickling with tears because this little human is yours.
He stews in thought for a moment, interlocking his fingers with yours before continuing, “like baby Jieun-ah!”
Your husband is beside himself, giggling, “smart boy,” he elates, “yes, just like baby Jieun.”
“Remember when Uncle Yoonie and Aunt Kitty brought her over for the first time?” You add.
He nods, “I love Jieun-ah…” He stops and sighs dramatically, “she cries SO much.” His eyes are round like saucers when he looks between the both of you .
“What do you feel when she cries?” You cut in with a chuckle, feeling the silky strands of Huimang’s hair against your fingers.
“Mmm-“ he taps his lips with his pointer finger, “sad.”
Hoseok laments, “Huimang-ah, you feel sad for her?” Huimang nods, a crease forming on his brow when he looks up at his dad.
You smile and your son sighs, “I just want her to be always happy mama, like sh-she makes me happy.”
“Your cousins make you happy, huh baby?” Hoseok grabs Huimang’s hand and gives it a light squeeze.
“Mm-hm,” Huimang nods with certainty, “I love ALL of them.” His eyes avert to your stomach where a fallen leaf has rested. He reaches for it but stops when movement catches his eye.
You bite your lip trying to mask your laughter. Hoseok reaches around and rubs the area on your stomach causing the baby to respond once more, “It’s okay angel, did that scare you?”
He nods precariously, watching the soft strokes Hoseok leaves across your belly; “can you give papa your hand?”
Huimang looks concerned but places his hand in the palm of your husband’s. A memory floods your mind as you remember the first time you saw your newborn’s tiny hand rest inside your husband’s. A feeling you’ve only felt since becoming a mother takes over your body, chills descending your bare arms. Love in the shape of your child.
Huimang’s squeal brings you back to reality, you look down and his hand is gently pressed against the area the baby is now kicking over and over. Hoseok giggles.
“What is that?” Huimang is taken aback. In awe, in fear? You aren’t sure yet.
“That’s a baby.”
Huimang gasps, mouth round with surprise when he looks up at the two of you, “baby?”
You nod, searching his eyes for a tangible emotion, all the while your husband keeps his hand over Huimang’s.
Your son starts to move his fingers, flinching when the baby responds. The two of you watch as he gains confidence, seemingly interacting with each kick or soft jab from the baby.
You moan softly in response to the slight discomfort, “What are you thinking baby?”
Huimang’s touch is innately careful as he scopes the movement, wonder sparkles in his eyes as a small smile ticks the corner of his mouth.
“Is this like when Dae got Jieun-ah?”
You feel the vibration of Hoseok’s tender giggle bellow out, “when he became a big brother.”
Huimang gasps again, starry eyes torn away from the love inside your belly, “this is my Jieun-ah?” His raspy voice calls out with excitement.
You reach forward and take your son’s face between your hands, exploding with happiness as you kiss both cheeks, “you’re going to be a big brother, my angel.”
Huimang laughs as your kisses cover his chin and neck, his arms wrapping around yours.
Hoseok leans down, kissing the top of his son’s head, tears lining his eyes. While Huimang celebrates, you take a few seconds for you and your husband to bask in the joy, peppering soft kisses against his lips.
“You think he’ll be upset if baby isn’t a little sister?” You joke.
~Fans adore the intellectual energy between Namjoon and Hani, especially in their deep, late-night discussions. There’s a popular clip from In the SOOP where Hani and Namjoon are sitting outside, talking about philosophy and art. Hani shares a book recommendation, and Namjoon listens intently, even taking notes. ARMY loves seeing Hani keeping up with Namjoon’s intellectual curiosity, leading fans to call them “the brain duo” of BTS.
~Hani has a sixth sense for keeping track of Namjoon’s things. Fans find it hilarious and endearing to see her anticipating his next “lost item” and slipping his wallet or phone back to him without a word. In one Run BTS episode, Namjoon misplaces his bag, and, just when he’s about to get frustrated, Hani wordlessly hands it to him with a soft smile. ARMY goes wild over her stealthy attentiveness.
~In a behind-the-scenes clip, Namjoon and Hani are seen hiking together, both admiring the trees and taking photos. Namjoon points out different plants to Hani, and she listens with genuine curiosity. When they find a particularly scenic spot, Hani hands Namjoon her phone to snap a photo, and fans gush over the gentle moment of them enjoying the simplicity of nature.
~Once, during a V-Live, Hani mentioned how she and Namjoon often visit bookstores together and exchange book recommendations. When fans spotted them at a library in matching beanies and oversized sweaters, they went wild, dubbing it the “Library Date.” Fans love seeing Namjoon and Hani’s shared love for books and how it gives them a unique way to bond.
~Namjoon is often seen giving Hani pep talks before performances, knowing she sometimes feels extra pressure being in a male-dominated group. In a memorable clip, just before going on stage, he places a hand on her shoulder, tells her to “go out there and own it,” and reminds her she’s an essential part of BTS. Fans adore how he subtly supports her in a leader-like manner, giving her the confidence boost she needs.
~During events, Namjoon is often seen quietly checking in on Hani, like subtly guiding her through crowds or making sure she’s comfortable. At an awards show, a clip showed him gesturing to staff to give her some water. Fans love these small moments that show Namjoon’s caring, big-brother side.
During a behind-the-scenes segment, Namjoon was seen talking about Hani’s skills as a songwriter, telling the group and staff, “You have to listen to her lyrics; they’re powerful.” Fans love seeing how proud he is of her talent and how he’s always there to hype her up. His open support makes fans see how much respect he has for Hani as an artist.
~At a music show, Hani stumbled a little in her high heels, and Namjoon immediately reached out, steadying her with a gentle hand on her back. ARMY loved how instinctively he responded, watching over her without hesitation. This small yet sweet moment made fans melt, especially when Hani looked back to thank him, giving him a quick appreciative smile.
~Fans have noticed that when Namjoon and Hani are spotted together at creative meetings or brainstorming sessions, they often sit side by side and chat excitedly. In one clip, they were bouncing off lyrics and visual ideas, with Namjoon looking at her with genuine fascination. Fans cherish seeing how they inspire each other artistically, pushing each other to explore new ideas.
~At one point during a trip overseas, Hani was spotted wearing an oversized sweater that looked familiar to fans, who quickly pieced together that it was one of Namjoon’s favorites. Fans loved how she was quietly repping Namjoon, making it seem natural but also endearing. ARMY went into a frenzy, reposting pictures and making playful comments.
~At a concert rehearsal, Hani was feeling nervous about her solo, and fans caught a heartwarming moment on camera where Namjoon spoke softly, reassuring her that she would “blow everyone away.” His calm, grounding words helped ease her nerves, and the sweet interaction left fans swooning over Namjoon’s caring nature and how he always seems to know just what to say.
Hani quietly entered the stadium, keeping her hoodie pulled over her head and sunglasses perched on her nose. She knew she wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than necessary. This was Seventeen’s kick-off concert in Seoul, and she was determined to support them without sparking any more rumors. But from the moment the concert started, it was nearly impossible to tear her eyes off him. Wonwoo was electrifying on stage—his movements, his gaze, everything about him commanded attention, and she was utterly captivated.
Hani had managed to slip backstage after Seventeen’s concert, and the second she found Wonwoo, she couldn’t resist throwing her arms around him. He looked even better up close, still riding the high of performing, with that confident spark in his eyes. She knew she should congratulate the others, but after spending the whole night completely captivated by him on stage, she could barely keep her hands to herself.
Seungkwan and Hoshi spotted them and immediately started teasing. “Hani, I thought you came to support all of us,” Seungkwan teased, crossing his arms in a dramatic pout. “Could’ve sworn you didn’t even look in my direction.”
She laughed, giving them quick hugs. “Of course I did! I just… might’ve been a bit distracted by someone.”
“Oh, we noticed.” Hoshi winked, nudging Wonwoo. They teased her a bit more, then finally let her leave with Wonwoo, who took her hand and led her toward his apartment.
The tension between them was thick the entire way there, and the second they closed the door behind them, Hani couldn’t hold back. She pushed him back against the wall, her hands reaching up to his shoulders, and pulled him down into a heated kiss. Wonwoo grinned against her lips, clearly thrilled by her boldness.
“You were unbelievable out there,” she murmured, pressing closer to him. “I could barely focus on anything else.”
They went to his room and she pushed him down onto the bed, and they shared a heated kiss, Hani’s fingers tangling in his hair as he slipped her shirt off, leaving her in just her bra. Wonwoo’s hands were all over her, both of them completely lost in the moment—until the sound of the door suddenly opening snapped them back to reality.
“Oh my god!” Mingyu’s voice filled the room as he stood in the doorway, his eyes wide in shock.
Wonwoo moved instantly, flipping Hani beneath him and shielding her from Mingyu’s view while frantically trying to cover her up. “Mingyu!” he half-groaned, half-shouted, looking both mortified and annoyed. “Could you not barge into my room?”
Mingyu, clearly amused, crossed his arms, grinning as he took in the scene. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, sounding anything but, “but I thought you two should know that Hoshi’s in the living room. He wants to hang out, and he’ll throw a fit if Hani chooses you over him tonight.”
Hani stifled a laugh, and despite his annoyance, Wonwoo sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled, “we’ll be out in a second.” As Mingyu left, Wonwoo turned back to Hani, his smile sheepish. “Guess it’s going to be one of those nights.”
When they finally walked into the living room, Hoshi was immediately at Hani’s side, tugging her toward the couch with a mischievous grin. “You,” he declared, engulfing his arms around her possessively, “are sitting with me for the rest of the night.”
Hani laughed as Hoshi pulled her close. “Seriously, Hani?” he said, playfully pouting. “You and Wonwoo were just off doing god knows what, and here I thought our night in Paris actually meant something.”
“Oh my god, Hoshi!” she exclaimed, smacking his arm as she felt her cheeks heat up.
Wonwoo stood nearby, his expression hovering between amusement and embarrassment. “Soonyoung, please,” he groaned, eyeing his friend. “Can we not do this tonight, especially with you clinging to my girlfriend?”
Hoshi just grinned, holding Hani even tighter. “Too bad, she’s mine tonight,” he declared, making her laugh as he gave Wonwoo a wink. Eventually, Hani wiggled free and found her way back to Wonwoo’s side, leaning close to him as they all chatted and laughed.
Throughout the night, Wonwoo and Hani couldn’t stop gravitating toward each other, touches lingering and hands intertwining. At one point, Wonwoo leaned in to whisper, “You look so good tonight… the second I get you alone, I’m going to devour you.”
He thought he’d been quiet enough, but Dino’s shocked voice immediately cut through the room. “Hyung!” Dino looked around at the others, wide-eyed. “Did you guys hear what Wonwoo just said?”
The group burst into laughter, and Hoshi gasped dramatically, putting his hands over Hani’s ears. “Excuse me, Wonwoo, but how dare you say such a thing to my sweet baby, Hani!”
Hani snorted, shaking her head as she pushed Hoshi’s hands away. “Please,” she said, grinning, “you would know I’m not that innocent.”
Everyone roared with laughter, while Wonwoo let out a quiet laugh, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he traced her fingers with his. They stayed close, leaning into each other as the night began to wind down.
Eventually, as the crowd started to thin out, Hani and Wonwoo exchanged a knowing glance. Slipping away from the group, they quietly headed back to Wonwoo’s room, eager to finish what they’d started earlier.
The lights of Coachella pulsed across the crowd like a heartbeat, colors flashing over everyone in neon and electric hues. Hani was in the center of it all, feeling the excitement sweep through the festival grounds. She was with Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa, having the time of her life despite knowing she had to be serious for her performance the next day. BLACKPINK would be performing at Coachella, and since Rosé had fallen sick, Hani was set to step in for her. But for tonight, she could let go and enjoy the moment. Even better, her longtime friend and bandmate, Jungkook, was there with her. Timing had worked out perfectly since he was recording in LA, so he’d decided to join her for Coachella, eager to support her and enjoy the festival.
The girls were all buzzing from a few drinks, dancing and laughing together under the flashing lights. Hani didn’t mind the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her, making her feel lighter and bolder, her laughter blending with theirs as they swayed to the music. But as the night went on, Hani started to feel the unwanted presence of a group of men nearby. They were lingering too close, their gazes too persistent, and Hani began inching closer to Jennie and Lisa, trying to ignore them.
Suddenly, she felt a familiar hand slip around her waist, pulling her back protectively. Jungkook was by her side in an instant, his hand firm as he positioned himself between her and the men. Without saying a word, he subtly drew her close, his fingers slipping into her belt loops, signaling to everyone that she wasn’t alone.
“Just keep dancing,” he murmured, his voice low and steady in her ear. “I’ve got you.”
Hani smiled gratefully, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the music and his presence calm her. They continued swaying together, her feeling safe and relaxed in his protective embrace, his watchful gaze ensuring that no one would bother her again.
Unbeknownst to them, several people in the crowd noticed the moment and whipped out their phones, capturing Jungkook’s protective stance. Within minutes, clips of Jungkook holding Hani close, were posted online. The videos went viral almost instantly, and soon, ARMYs on Twitter and social media were flooding the internet with fan edits and reactions.
@ArmyForever: “JUNGKOOK holding HANI like that?? My heart can’t take it, he’s such a protector!! 😍🔥 #ProtectiveJungkook”
@OT7Army: “Not me obsessing over how safe Hani looks with Kookie holding her like that… idk I’m in shambles #JungkookHani”
@BTSxARMY: “I’m losing it over this! Look at how he’s holding her belt loops—my heart is done! Jungkook is the best 🥺💜 #JungkookProtectsHani”
As the internet buzzed with excitement, Wonwoo, who had stayed back in Korea, was scrolling through his phone when he stumbled upon one of the videos. His heart skipped a beat seeing Hani with Jungkook, the way he was holding her protectively. At first, worry flashed through his mind—she looked flushed, a little unsteady, and he recognized that look. She’d probably had a few drinks with the BLACKPINK girls and was feeling lightheaded. Concerned, he opened his messages, his fingers hovering before he typed a quick text to Jungkook.
Wonwoo: Hey, Kookie, saw a few videos. Hani okay?
The response was almost immediate.
Jungkook: Yeah, hyung, she’s fine! She had a little too much with the BLACKPINK girls, but don’t worry. I’m taking her back now.
Wonwoo exhaled, the tension easing as he imagined Hani safe and smiling, thanks to Jungkook’s watchful presence.
Wonwoo: I appreciate it, Kookie. Really. Thanks for having her back.
Jungkook: Always, hyung. I’m basically guarding her with my life right now. 😂
Wonwoo smiled at his screen, feeling reassured and grateful that Hani had someone so reliable by her side.
Meanwhile, Jungkook guided Hani back to her hotel room, making sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed. Once inside, he helped her settle onto the sofa, opening a bottle of water from the minibar and handing it to her.
“Here,” he said, sitting beside her. “You need to hydrate.”
Hani took the bottle with a sleepy grin, taking big gulps as she shook her head, still giggling. “I’m going to feel this tomorrow, aren’t I?”
“Definitely. But you’ll feel worse if you don’t drink that,” he replied, watching her with an amused smile as she drank more. Once she finished most of the bottle, Jungkook leaned back, a soft seriousness entering his gaze. “You ready for tomorrow?”
Hani looked down at the water, a mix of nerves and excitement surfacing in her eyes. “I mean…it’s Coachella. I feel ready but also…not ready at all? I’ve never done something like this and I don’t want to disappoint ARMY or Blinks. Everyone’s expecting something amazing.”
Jungkook tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a steady, encouraging look. “And that’s exactly what they’re going to get. Hani—don’t act like Coachella’s any different. Tomorrow, you’re going to make that crowd lose it.”
Her face softened as his words sank in, her cheeks flushing as she gave a small, grateful nod. “Thank you, Kookie.”
He smirked, his eyes bright with confidence. “Just telling the truth. You’ve got this, and tomorrow everyone’s going to see it.”
Hani felt her nerves melt, a smile breaking through as she looked at him with genuine appreciation. “I’ll give it my all. I’m going to make you and everyone proud.”
Jungkook chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, get some rest.”
Once he was sure she’d drunk enough water and was comfortably settled, he gave her a last pat on the shoulder and stood to leave. “You good?” he asked.
She nodded, giving him a warm, sleepy smile. “More than good, thanks to you.”
He returned the smile, nodding with a final wave. “Break a leg tomorrow, Hani. I’ll be cheering you on.”
After he left, Hani felt a warm glow settle over her, a mix of gratitude and determination. Jungkook had a way of grounding her, filling her with the confidence she needed to take on a stage as big as Coachella. As she lay down, she opened her phone to find a message from Wonwoo, making her smile grow even wider.
Wonwoo: Knock ‘em dead tomorrow, Hani. I’m so proud of you.
Hani & Wonwoo Moments That Cause Fans To Speculate
Fox of BTS | BTS 8th Member
The MAMA Awards Glances:
During a major award show like MAMA, cameras caught Hani smiling and subtly glancing toward Wonwoo while Seventeen performed. Fans noticed that her gaze lingered on him more than once, sparking speculation about whether there was something more going on between them. BTS was seated near Seventeen, and Hani’s fond looks didn’t go unnoticed by eagle-eyed fans.
Matching Accessories:
During separate promotions, both Hani and Wonwoo were seen wearing what appeared to be matching bracelets. While it’s possible this was a coincidence, fans couldn’t help but speculate that the matching accessories were a sign of their closeness. Social media went wild with side-by-side comparisons of their jewelry, with fans asking if the bracelets were “couple items.”
Coordinated Social Media Posts:
Fans have pointed out that Hani and Wonwoo sometimes post on social media at suspiciously similar times. Whether it’s photos from the same location or cryptic captions that seem to mirror each other, fans have theorized that the two could be spending time together behind the scenes. One particular post where Hani uploaded a sunset photo followed by Wonwoo posting a similar one not long after had fans buzzing with excitement.
The “Accidental” Livestream Moment:
During a casual BTS livestream, Hani was talking to fans when she mentioned Seventeen’s recent comeback. When a fan commented about Wonwoo, Hani’s reaction was subtle but noticeable. Her smile grew wider, and she quickly moved on to the next question. Fans caught this and wondered whether her reaction indicated something more between them.
Behind-the-Scenes Chemistry:
During a behind-the-scenes video of a variety show collaboration between BTS and Seventeen, Hani and Wonwoo were seen playfully interacting. At one point, Wonwoo helped Hani adjust her mic pack, and the brief but intimate moment had fans speculating about the nature of their relationship. The soft smiles and comfortable energy between them were undeniable.
Subtle Teasing from Seungkwan and Hoshi:
During one of Seungkwan and Hoshi’s usual playful interactions with Hani, fans picked up on their teasing comments and speculate that they were about Wonwoo. In a TikTok video where the trio was doing a dance challenge, Hoshi jokingly asked Hani, “Are you going to send this to him?” Fans were quick to link the comment to Wonwoo, especially after Seungkwan smirked and added, “Yeah, he’s going to love this.”
Wonwoo’s Reaction to Hani’s Stage Performances:
Fans have noted that Wonwoo often reacts to Hani’s performances in a way that seems more than just friendly support. During one award show, when BTS performed, cameras cut to Seventeen’s table, and Wonwoo was seen watching intently, with a soft smile. The speculation grew when fans noticed he clapped more enthusiastically during Hani’s solo moments.
“Accidentally” Calling Him Out:
During a BTS fan meeting, a fan asked Hani to describe her ideal type. While she gave a generic answer, saying she liked someone thoughtful and kind, she added a small detail about enjoying someone who reads a lot, something fans quickly linked to Wonwoo, who is known for his love of books. The fans screamed in excitement, and Hani’s slightly flustered reaction didn’t help dispel the rumors.
Group Hangouts with Seventeen:
Fans noticed that Hani has been spotted hanging out with Seventeen members outside of official schedules. Whether it’s during group dinners, variety show tapings, or casual hangouts with the Seventeen members, fans have speculated that Wonwoo’s presence at these events is more than coincidental. Seungkwan and Hoshi, being the obvious intermediaries, seem to make the most of teasing Hani and Wonwoo during these get-togethers.
Subtle Body Language:
Fans have analyzed numerous interactions between Hani and Wonwoo, noting that their body language suggests a deeper connection. Whether it’s the way Wonwoo stands a little closer to her than necessary during group photos or how they always seem to be positioned near each other in public settings, fans believe the small, almost imperceptible moments point to something more.
“Accidental” Instagram Story:
Hani once posted an Instagram story of her enjoying a cup of coffee at a cafe. A few minutes later, Wonwoo posted a similar story from what looked like the same cafe, sparking rumors that they were together at the time. Though they didn’t appear in each other’s posts, fans couldn’t help but notice the matching table settings and atmosphere, leading many to believe that they were enjoying a quiet date.
Their Similar Playlist Choices:
During separate interviews, both Hani and Wonwoo mentioned having similar favorite songs. On one occasion, Hani shared a playlist for fans, which included songs that Wonwoo had also recommended during a recent Vlive. Fans were quick to notice the overlap, and the shared taste in music became another piece of “evidence” that the two were connected beyond friendship.
Special Shoutout at Seventeen’s Concert:
During one of Seventeen’s concerts, Hani was spotted in the audience cheering them on. What made fans even more excited was when Seungkwan and Hoshi playfully mentioned a “special friend” in the crowd, making sure to look in Hani’s direction. Although they didn’t directly mention her name, fans quickly assumed they were talking about her, especially with Wonwoo giving a shy smile on stage after the remark.
The Suspicious Gift Exchange:
During one of BTS’s Vlive sessions, Hani was seen opening a gift that she said was from a “friend.” She didn’t reveal who it was from, but fans quickly linked it to Wonwoo after noticing that the bracelet inside matched one he had been seen wearing during Seventeen’s promotions. The exchange of gifts and their matching jewelry further fueled dating rumors.
Caught in the Same Area Abroad:
During BTS and Seventeen’s overlapping international schedules, fans spotted both groups vacationing in the same city at the same time. While there was no official confirmation that Hani and Wonwoo were together, fans speculated that they might have coordinated their free time to spend it together, especially after a fan account posted about seeing them in the same neighborhood in Paris.
Subtle Mentions of Each Other:
In separate interviews, both Hani and Wonwoo have made subtle mentions of qualities they admire in others that seem to describe each other. Wonwoo once mentioned admiring someone who is “calm but passionate,” which fans thought perfectly described Hani. Meanwhile, Hani once said she likes people who “balance intellect and humor,” which many believe points to Wonwoo’s personality.
Wonwoo’s Reaction to Hani’s Solo Performance:
During a BTS concert where Hani had a solo stage, fans noticed that Wonwoo, who was in the audience with Seventeen, had an unusually focused expression while she performed. Seventeen members were all cheering on BTS, but Wonwoo’s intense concentration on Hani’s performance stood out. Fans captured the moment, adding it to the growing list of “evidence” that he has deeper feelings for her.
Wonwoo’s Appearance on Hani’s TikTok:
During a TikTok dance challenge that Hani filmed with Seungkwan and Hoshi, Wonwoo made a surprise cameo in the background. Although he was quiet and didn’t participate, fans couldn’t help but notice his lingering presence, which seemed out of character for someone as private as Wonwoo. The light teasing from Hoshi and Seungkwan about his cameo only fueled speculation.
Fan Theories Based on Their Lyrics:
Some fans have analyzed the lyrics of BTS and Seventeen songs, trying to find hidden messages that could hint at Hani and Wonwoo’s relationship. While there’s no direct evidence, many believe that certain Seventeen ballads and BTS’s love songs could have been inspired by their connection, especially given that both groups have collaborated on music and have shared moments of artistic inspiration.
Accidental Livestream Glance:
During a Seventeen Vlive, fans caught a brief moment where Wonwoo’s phone buzzed, and his screen lit up with a message. Though the message wasn’t visible, eagle-eyed fans noticed that the contact name started with an “H” and immediately theorized it was Hani texting him. His shy smile and quick movement to turn off the phone only added to the speculation.
The Seungkwan and Hoshi Teasing Game:
Fans have noted that Seungkwan and Hoshi love to tease both Hani and Wonwoo whenever they are all in the same space. During one joint live stream, Seungkwan joked about how “someone” blushes whenever a certain someone is around, while Hoshi chimed in, saying, “We all know who it is.” Though neither of them directly named Hani or Wonwoo, fans were quick to make the connection based on their history of playful teasing.
Wonwoo’s Shyness Around Hani:
During award show appearances, fans have pointed out that Wonwoo often appears shyer or more reserved when Hani is around. While he’s normally quiet, his subtle reactions, such as avoiding eye contact or nervously laughing when she’s mentioned, have led fans to believe that he has a crush on her, and he’s struggling to hide it.
~Her Talent: As a vocalist, dancer, and songwriter, Hani brings her own flavor to BTS. Her skills are undeniable, and her contributions to the group’s music, choreography, and overall artistic vision have earned her respect from fans.
~Her Dual Identity: Fans love the contrast between Hani’s off-stage persona and her fierce on-stage persona, “Fox.” She has a playful, warm personality, but when she performs, she embodies confidence and power. This duality makes her intriguing to fans.
~Her Visuals: Hani’s unique Irish-Korean background gives her a distinct look. Her auburn hair, striking features, and sense of style stand out, making her one of the visual gems of K-pop.
~Her Friendships with Other Idols: Fans love Hani’s close relationships with idols outside of BTS. Whether it’s her friendship with Seungkwan and Hoshi, her sister-like bond with the members of BLACKPINK, or her close ties to TXT, Hani is known for her cross-group friendships. These connections show her genuine personality.
~Her Down-to-Earth Nature: Despite her global fame, Hani remains relatable and grounded. Fans appreciate her humility and the way she openly shares her vulnerabilities, whether it’s nerves before performances or struggles in her career. This makes her seem more approachable and human.
~ Her Work Ethic: Hani’s dedication to her craft is something fans admire deeply. From her early days as a trainee to being involved in songwriting, she consistently shows that she is willing to work hard to contribute meaningfully to her projects.
~Her Close Relationship with BTS: Fans love the family-like dynamic between Hani and the other BTS members. Whether it’s her sibling-like teasing with Jin, her strong bond with Namjoon, or her playful moments with Jungkook, the genuine affection and camaraderie she shares with the members warms fans’ hearts.
~Her Growth: Hani’s journey from being a trainee allowed to live at home, to moving into the BTS dorm and becoming a key part of the group, is a narrative that fans find inspiring. Her path to stardom shows her resilience and ability to handle challenges, making fans proud of how far she’s come.
~ Her Personality: Fans adore her witty, light-hearted personality and the way she can easily engage with her fellow members. She often brings a playful energy to interviews and live broadcasts, making her a fan-favorite in BTS’s variety content.
~Her Interaction with Fans: Hani’s interactions with ARMY are always warm and affectionate. She makes an effort to connect with her fans, whether through social media or at fan events, and her authenticity in these moments makes her even more lovable.
~ Her Empowering Feminine Presence: As the only female member of BTS, Hani stands out as a role model for many young women, representing strength, independence, and ambition. Fans admire her for being a powerful female figure in a male-dominated group.
~Her Love for Family: Hani’s close-knit family and the stories she shares about her upbringing in a multicultural household add a layer of depth to her character. Fans resonate with her love for her parents and brother and the way she balances her personal life with her career.
~ Her Passion for Music and Creativity: Fans love that Hani is deeply involved in the creative process of BTS’s music. Her songwriting contributions and passion for making music show that she isn’t just a performer, but an artist who is constantly evolving.
~Her Resilience: Fans admire Hani for overcoming challenges, especially early on when there was controversy surrounding her being the only female member of BTS and sharing a dorm with them. Despite any doubts or criticism, she proved herself through her dedication and work ethic, showing resilience in the face of adversity.
~Her Creativity Beyond Music: Aside from her musical contributions, Hani has shown an interest in various forms of art, including her mother’s influence as an artist. Fans appreciate her versatility and her openness to explore different avenues of creativity.
~Her Mentorship: Hani has taken on a mentor-like role for younger artists, particularly with groups like TXT and New Jeans. Her involvement in songwriting for their tracks and her guidance shows that she cares about nurturing the next generation of idols. This mentor dynamic, especially her close bond with members like Taehyun and Beomgyu, endears her to both TXT fans and ARMY.
~Her Sense of Humor: Hani is known for her quick wit and humor. Whether she’s joking around with the BTS members, teasing other idols like Seungkwan and Hoshi, or making fans laugh during live broadcasts, her sense of humor is something that ARMY cherish.
~Her Fashion Sense: Fans often rave about Hani’s fashion, especially her ability to blend her own personal style with high fashion. Whether she’s on the red carpet, at events, or just casually dressed, Hani has a strong sense of fashion that resonates with fans who love to follow her outfits and style choices.
~Her Vulnerability: Hani has been open about her own struggles, particularly with the pressures of fame and the industry. Fans appreciate her vulnerability, as it encourages them to feel comfortable acknowledging their own challenges. Her openness about mental health has made her a figure of comfort for many fans.
~Her Loyalty to Friends and Family: Fans love how loyal Hani is to her friends, family, and members. She often speaks about her close relationships and the lengths she’ll go to support them. Her family-centric attitude makes her even more relatable to those who prioritize close-knit relationships.
~Her Connection with ARMY: Hani’s deep connection with the fans is a significant reason why she is so beloved. She makes an effort to engage with ARMY through various platforms and always expresses her gratitude for their support. Her genuine appreciation for the fanbase strengthens the bond between her and ARMY, making them feel truly seen and valued.
~Her Fearless Attitude on Stage: Hani’s fierce stage presence is one of the biggest reasons fans admire her. Whether it’s a powerful vocal performance or a complex dance routine, she always gives her all on stage. Her fearlessness and ability to own the stage, particularly during high-energy BTS performances, make her a standout member of the group.
~Her Role as the Youngest Member: As the youngest member of BTS, Hani often takes on the role of the playful and energetic “maknae” of the group. Fans love seeing how the older members treat her with care, while she also holds her own and brings a youthful spirit to the group.
~Her Stage Name Origin: Fans love the story behind her stage name, "Fox." It highlights her unique background and the thought that went into crafting her identity as an idol. The symbolism of a fox includes clever, adaptive, and independent, which fits Hani perfectly, and fans enjoy how this has become a key part of her persona.
~Her Authenticity: Perhaps one of the biggest reasons fans love Hani is her authenticity. Whether she’s on stage, in interviews, or interacting with fans, she remains true to herself. Fans appreciate her realness and the way she doesn’t put on a facade, which makes her someone they can relate to on a personal level.
~Sibling Energy on Stage: Fans love when Hani and Taehyung share playful moments during performances. Whether it’s sneaky glances or impromptu interactions, their sibling-like relationship often brings lighthearted energy to the stage, with Taehyung teasing her or hyping her up while performing.
~Vlive Moments: During BTS’s Vlive streams, whenever Hani and Taehyung are together, fans notice their playful banter and how comfortable they are with each other. Taehyung often tries to make Hani laugh, and fans love seeing their relaxed and fun dynamic in a casual setting.
~Taehyung’s Protective Side: One of the most memorable moments for fans is when Taehyung shows his protective side toward Hani. Whether it’s helping her with her outfit or looking out for her during intense schedules, fans swoon over how caring Taehyung can be, making sure she’s doing okay even in busy or stressful moments.
~Red Carpet Support: At award shows or major events, like when they attended the Grammys, Taehyung is often seen supporting Hani. Fans particularly adore a moment when, before stepping out onto the red carpet, Taehyung noticed Hani was nervous and whispered to her, “I’m proud of you, and you’re going to be great.” This kind gesture melted fans’ hearts.
~In the Soop: During In the Soop, fans loved watching the two interact in a more laid-back, natural environment. Taehyung and Hani spent time playing games, cooking, and simply relaxing together, showing off their close friendship. They often have deep conversations that reflect how much they trust and confide in each other.
~Dance Practices: Whenever BTS shares behind-the-scenes footage of their dance rehearsals, fans enjoy seeing Hani and Taehyung challenge each other. Their competitive yet supportive spirit shines as they push each other to improve and share laughs during practice.
~Photoshoot Shenanigans: During group photoshoots, Taehyung and Hani are often caught goofing around or pulling funny faces at each other. Their shared love for having fun in front of the camera makes these moments a favorite for fans who adore their playful personalities.
~Taehyung Teasing Hani: Fans also notice that Taehyung loves teasing Hani, whether it’s on variety shows, during interviews, or backstage. From playfully imitating her mannerisms to making funny comments about her preferences, fans love how Taehyung makes Hani laugh effortlessly.
~Fashion Moments: Hani and Taehyung are both known for their impeccable fashion sense, and fans often highlight moments when they coordinate outfits or give each other fashion advice. Whether it’s at events or during shoots, their shared interest in fashion is something fans adore.
~ Taehyung Calling Hani ‘Cute’: Fans can’t get enough of the times when Taehyung openly calls Hani “cute” during interviews or live broadcasts. His fondness for her is apparent, and fans love seeing how comfortable and close they are with each other.
