Should’ve Said It (J-Hope x F!Reader AU) - Part 8
Summary: Millie thought she had found her forever in Jung Hoseok, the man whose smile could light up stadiums, whose whispered “You’re my peace” anchored her through every whirlwind tour and sleepless night. Between her own career and his relentless schedule, their love lived in stolen ramen dates, shared hoodies, and the quiet comfort of trust. But trust can fracture in a single breath. When a fiery new dancer named Alyssa steps into Hobi’s world, Millie’s unease grows — first as a whisper, then as a storm. One late-night text, one blurred line, and everything shatters. Love turns into questions. Questions turn into distance. And distance turns into betrayal. As public eyes watch their every move and rumors spread like wildfire, Millie must decide if love is worth fighting for or if some wounds cut too deep to heal.
Pairing: J-Hope (Jung Hoseok) x Female !Reader
Genre: smut / NSFW, Idol AU, Angst, romance, cheating, betrayal, infidelity, established relationship, rough x soft, intimate, mature language, curse words, raw sex, unprotected sex (practice safe sex!)
Rating: NSFW // 18+ only dni 🔞
Just a quick note before you dive in this is a fanfiction, which means everything here is purely made up and should be kept separate from real life. The characters are fictionalized versions inspired by real people, but the events, dialogue, and relationships are all my own original work.
This story will touch on sensitive topics like infidelity, emotional conflict, and mature themes. Please take care of yourself while reading and skip anything that might be triggering for you. 💜
Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of infidelity, emotional conflict, and mature content that may be distressing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
>>Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
It was late afternoon when Namjoon knocked softly on Millie’s door. She’d just finished folding a fresh set of clothes and was debating whether to brave the group nap zone (aka: the living room, where Jungkook and Taehyung were spooning a giant BT21 plush), when she heard it.
“Millie-ah?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle. “We’re ready for you.”
She stepped out into the hallway and found him waiting, “What is it oppa?” seeing a small smile on his face. “Don’t worry,” he added, offering her his arm like an old-school gentleman. “No surprises. Just us.”
He led her downstairs and into the backyard, where string lights hung lazily between trees and soft jazz hummed through an old speaker. A picnic blanket was spread over the grass, covered with bowls of tteokbokki, pizza, cut fruit, and banana milk. Yoongi was already sitting with a guitar on his lap, humming something soft. Jimin waved her over with both arms. “It’s Millie o’clock!”
“What is this?” Millie asked, eyes wide. “A gratitude ambush,” Taehyung declared, lounging dramatically on a bean bag. “Namjoon’s idea.”
“I just wanted us to be together,” Namjoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like we used to.”
“Without death, betrayal, or lawsuits,” Yoongi deadpanned. Everyone groaned.
Millie laughed. “God, I missed you guys.” They spent hours like that no phones, no managers, no headlines.
Just soft jokes and crumbs on their sleeves. At one point, Jimin rested his head on her shoulder and whispered, “I was so scared we lost you.”
She nudged him gently. “You didn’t. You never did.” “You were the last person we wanted to hurt,” Jungkook admitted, rubbing the edge of his sleeve between his fingers. “When everything happened with… her… I think we all blamed ourselves a little.”
Taehyung nodded. “We should’ve protected you better.” Millie’s throat tightened, emotion rising. “You did. You do. Every single day.” Silence fell then not heavy, just full.
Namjoon broke it first. “Can I read you something?” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. “It’s from something I wrote when I didn’t know if we’d see you again.”
He cleared his throat and began to read, voice low “We hurt the ones we love not by choice, but by fear. But love returns when it’s strong enough to weather the silence.
If she ever comes back, I won’t ask for forgiveness. I’ll just say Thank you for surviving.” Millie’s eyes welled up. Yoongi reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s all we really wanted, Millie. You. Alive. Free.” “Loved,” Jimin whispered.
“Whole,” Taehyung added. She blinked through tears, cheeks flushed with warmth. “Then you should know… I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
At the edge of the yard, Hoseok watched from the patio steps, hands in his pockets. He didn’t need to speak not now. This was their moment. Their chance to hold her, not as someone he broke, but someone they all stood behind. And as the sun began to set, casting golden light over the lawn, laughter rose again louder now, lighter. This wasn’t a comeback. This is family. This is Home.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Millie wasn’t expecting anyone that morning. She had just finished folding the laundry, her hair still up in a messy towel bun, face bare and feet socked in Hobi’s oversized Hope On The Street merch. The apartment was finally quiet again after an emotional whirlwind of returns, rooftop talks, and Ji-eun’s overnight stay. Hobi had left early for BTS errands, kissing her twice before slipping out with a whispered “Rest, baby.”
So when the doorbell rang three soft chimes she assumed it was Ji-eun again, probably back with snacks or some embarrassing childhood photo she forgot to bring. But when she opened the door, her breath caught.
“Annyeong, Millie,” came the warm, familiar voice of Jung Mi-young, Hobi’s mother. (not real names of hobi’s parents irl)
Beside her stood Mr. Jung, hands tucked respectfully behind his back, a soft, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
Millie froze. Then blinked. “O-oh. My God. Eomma—! Appa—! I mean—Mr. and Mrs. Jung! I—”
She stammered, wide-eyed, suddenly all too aware of the towel on her head and her socked feet. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
Mi-young simply stepped forward and wrapped Millie into a hug, towel and all. “You look well,” she said gently in Korean. “We didn’t mean to startle you. Hoseok didn’t know either.” Mr. Jung bowed politely. “We were in town visiting Jin’s parents and thought… maybe it’s time. If you’ll have us.”
Millie felt tears spring uninvited into her eyes. “Of course,” she said, voice small. “Please—come in.”
The apartment had never felt so full and warm. Millie brewed jasmine tea and offered red bean rice cakes from the little box Hobi always left for her. They sat around the living room, sunlight catching on the polished wood floors, warmth blooming in quiet conversation.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome after everything,” Millie admitted quietly. “After what happened.”
Mi-young reached for her hand. “We were hurt. Not angry. You must know—Hoseok, he… he closed off in a way we hadn’t seen since he was a trainee. But now,” her eyes softened, “I see the light in him again. And I know part of that is you.”
Millie bit her lip. “I made mistakes too. I didn’t trust myself. Or him. I let so much go dark before I even fought back.”
“You came back,” Mr. Jung said simply. “That’s what matters.” The words sank deep. Somehow, they hit harder than any press release, any fan forgiveness, any nod from HYBE. You came back. That’s what matters.
Later, while showing Mi-young some of the photos from their recent trip with Hobi and Jiwoo, the older woman leaned in thoughtfully. “You have a good eye,” Mi-young said. “You catch the quiet moments. The ache and the softness. That’s rare”
Millie blinked. “Thank you. I… I think it’s how I survived, really. By finding the softness in between the noise.”
Mi-young nodded, like she understood more than she was saying. “You know, I had dreams once too. Of painting. But life asked something else of me. Sometimes I wonder who that girl could’ve been.” Millie glanced at her, quietly moved. “Maybe… she’s not gone. Maybe she just changed form.”
They smiled at each other.
As they were about to leave, Mi-young took Millie’s hands again.
“One more thing,” she said softly. “If—when—you and Hoseok find your way to the next chapter… please know that you already have a family.”
Millie teared up. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
From behind, Hobi’s voice called out as the door opened. “What are you guys doing here?”
He stopped short. Blinked. Then broke into a stunned laugh. “Wait—no one told me??”
“You didn’t need to know,” Mi-young teased. “We wanted to see for ourselves.”
Hoseok looked at Millie, her eyes shining, cheeks flushed, his parents glowing with warmth.
And in that quiet moment where peace, past, and future all held hands he realized this was it.
Home wasn’t just four walls or a performance stage.
It was her.
It was them.
It was now.
[Fan Post – 3:03 PM KST]
📸 blurry photo of Hoseok and his parents leaving the apartment building, Mi-young holding Millie’s hand
Caption:
“okay but WHY am i crying over a grainy picture of hobi’s mom holding millie’s hand like it’s the kdrama healing arc we all needed 🥲💜”
The city was unusually clear that morning. Millie and Hobi walked side by side, hand in hand, his parents strolling a few steps ahead, taking in the hum of the boutique district near Samcheong-dong.
There was a slow ease to the morning Mi-young pausing to admire ceramics, Mr. Jung chatting with a vendor in soft dialect, and Hobi slipping his hand into Millie’s as they passed a small book café. “Feels like nothing ever happened,” he whispered near her ear.
She smiled. “But everything did.” “Yeah,” he said, brushing his lips to her temple. “And we’re still here.”
They ducked into a quiet corner coffee shop to warm up, Hobi pulling off his beanie, Mi-young helping Millie adjust her scarf. For a moment, it was just them a picture of peace stitched back together with time, therapy, patience, and love. But peace, like everything in their lives, had always come with a clock.
And outside those glass windows, fate was already waiting.
It happened the way all accidents do quick. They had just stepped out, Mr. Jung suggesting they walk toward the art museum. Millie glanced down at her phone, distracted for a second as a Twitter alert popped up: “hobi and millie with his parents 🥹.”
The moment the blurry photo dropped online, all hell broke loose.
It was just a simple candid: Millie laughing with Hobi’s mom clutched in her hands, Hobi’s dad trailing behind them with bags in both arms like the gentle bear everyone imagined he was.
But that was all it took.
Within minutes, “Millie with Hobi’s parents” was trending in 12 countries.
not to be dramatic but if my man doesn’t have me laughing with his mom while his dad carries my groceries, I don’t want it 🥲
I don’t care what anyone says… Millie is literally FAMILY. She’s the daughter-in-law of our dreams and she’s not even married (yet)!! 😭😭😭
You guys. The way Hobi’s mom was SMILING at her. That’s not just “I tolerate my son’s girlfriend” energy. That’s “I already call her daughter” energy 😭✨
imagine millie calling her eomma. imagine millie setting the dinner table with her. imagine them planting herbs together. imagine millie crying in her arms when everything was falling apart. yeah i’m fine. why do you ask.
She was about to show it to Mi-young when someone slammed into her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.
It wasn’t a slip. It wasn’t innocent. It was intentional
“Watch where you’re going,” said a familiar voice, sharp and cold.
Her heart dropped like a stone in her chest as she looked up and found herself face to face with Alyssa.
The woman looked different, but not in the way time heals. She was too polished, eyes hidden behind oversized designer sunglasses, and a smug twist on her lips that screamed delusional confidence.
Mi-young gasped. Hobi immediately stepped between them, his posture rigid and protective. “You need to leave,” he said darkly.
“Relax,” Alyssa drawled. “Didn’t realize the little princess still couldn’t stand on her own feet.”
Millie’s chest burned. “You don’t get to joke about that,” she said quietly. “You don’t get to speak to me. Not after what you did.”
Alyssa lifted her sunglasses, smirking. “Still milking that victim arc, huh?”
Mi-young’s voice cut through the air like ice. “You push my son’s girlfirend one more time, and you’ll need more than lawyers to clean up your mess.”
The street seemed to tilt, People were already noticing phones rising, someone murmuring “Isn’t that the girl from the documentary?”
Millie felt her hands start to shake. Not out of fear not this time but rage.
“You assaulted me,” she said, louder now, her voice steady. “You killed my baby. You tried to destroy my life.” Alyssa scoffed. “That was your own fault. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mother.”
It happened too fast. Hobi lunged forward. Mr. Jung caught his arm just in time, voice firm “Not here, not like this.”
Millie didn’t flinch. She didn’t even move. She looked Alyssa dead in the eye. “I don’t need to ruin you,” she said softly. “You’re doing it to yourself.”
And then she turned head held high, back straight and walked away with Hobi and his parents behind her, leaving Alyssa standing in the middle of the street, dumbfounded.
Later that afternoon, back at the apartment, no one spoke for a long while. Hobi wrapped her in a blanket, sitting on the floor beside the couch with his head on her knee.
“She’s not done,” Millie said, voice small. “You saw her. She’s spiraling, but… she’s not done.”
Mi-young placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Then we prepare. We stay ahead of her.” Mr. Jung looked at them all, calm and composed. “Truth doesn’t need noise. It just needs time.”
Hobi took her hand and kissed it slowly. “You’re not alone this time. I’m here. We all are.”
Millie nodded, breath trembling.Outside, Seoul carried on fast, loud, hungry. But in here, something stronger grew Resolve, family. And the beginning of the next battle.
The silence after Alyssa’s name had been spoken was thick. Millie sat with her arms folded tightly, her jaw clenched. Hobi stood across from her, pacing like a storm barely holding in thunder. His parents sat quietly on the edge of the living room, and the rest of BTS, Ji-eun, and Jiwoo lingered just within earshot in the kitchen pretending to give space, but too anxious to leave them alone. The gang assembled in the couples apartment after finding out that Alyssa and Mel had a run in.
“You should’ve let me handle her!” Hobi finally snapped, voice rising. Millie’s head whipped up. “And do what, exactly? Punch her? Get caught on video choking her out? Ruin everything we’ve rebuilt because you couldn’t control yourself?”
“You think I give a damn about my reputation when she’s the one who killed our baby?” Hobi roared, his voice cracking with grief. “I should’ve done more back then and I won’t freeze again.”
“And I’m telling you,” Millie said, standing now, fury trembling in her voice, “I don’t need a savior, Hobi. I need a partner. Someone who won’t let his guilt make decisions for both of us.”
“I am your partner!” he shouted, taking a step forward. “But every time Alyssa’s name comes up, you shut down like you’re the only one who lost something. I lost something too, Millie! Not everything is about you okay! I watched your entire world break because of me!”
The room went still. Even Ji-eun, who’d been mid-pour of tea, dropped the kettle slightly, the clink sharp in the silence.
Millie’s voice was low now. Icy. “You didn’t lose her because of you. You lost her because Alyssa was unhinged and because we both trusted people who didn’t deserve it. Don’t you dare put that blood on your hands again.”
“I deserve to carry it,” he growled.
“You don’t get to decide what you deserve while dragging me through your self-loathing,” she snapped, tears rising. “This isn’t just about your guilt anymore, Hoseok. You’re still fighting ghosts while I’m trying to live again.”
That’s when Mr. Jung stepped between them, firm but gentle.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was commanding the voice of a father watching two people he loved burn the house down with words.
“This pain, it belongs to both of you. But anger won’t fix it.”
Mi-young crossed the room to Millie, gently taking her hand. “You are still grieving. Both of you. That’s why it’s spilling over like this. But don’t forget what you fought to find again.”
The rest of BTS filtered in slowly Yoongi standing behind Hobi, hand on his shoulder. Taehyung and Jungkook both looked tense. Jin sat next to Jiwoo, rubbing his temples.
Ji-eun spoke next, voice soft. “Fighting won’t bring her back. And it won’t erase what Alyssa did. But moving forward? That’s what she would’ve wanted for you both.”
Millie’s lip trembled, Hobi stepped back, suddenly small, as if the weight of the room finally pressed down on his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t mean to—”
Millie exhaled slowly and closed the distance between them. Her fingers brushed his. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I just— I don’t want us to fight againh over her.”
He cupped her face gently. “Then let’s not.” They stood there for a moment, their foreheads pressed together, the fire between them finally reduced to embers.
Later that night, as they curled together on the sofa under a shared blanket, Jiwoo nudged Ji-eun playfully.
Ji-eun chuckled. “Messy. Loud. Necessary.” Yoongi glanced up from his glass of whiskey. “Better than silence.”
Namjoon nodded. “And at least now we know they’re not going anywhere. Even when it gets ugly.”
Mr. Jung raised his tea in a quiet toast. “Love isn’t always calm. But when it’s real? It survives the storms.”
In the kitchen, Mi-young sipped her tea, watching from a distance. Jin slid beside her, arms crossed.
“They’re so stupid for each other,” he whispered. Jimin grinned. “Stupid and Saved.”
Namjoon joined them silently. “They’ll be fine,” he murmured, looking toward the couple on the couch.
Jungkook tilted her head. “You’re sure?” Namjoon gaze didn’t waver. “Because this time… they’re not fighting each other.”
At dinner time, the air still held the scent of grilled bulgogi, sweet marinades clinging to smoke as laughter slowly returned to the rooftop balcony of Millie and Hobi’s place. Fairy lights strung across the edge flickered like distant stars, casting a warm glow over the gang who had despite everything decided to stay the night. No one said it aloud, but they all felt it: no one wanted Millie and Hobi to be alone after today’s storm. Hobi’s parents had taken over the kitchen with startling efficiency. Mi-young fluttered about with tongs and side dishes while Mr. Jung, in a novelty apron that read “Grill Boss”, manned the barbecue like he was feeding an army.
“Are you feeding the entire neighborhood, appa?” Jiwoo teased, brushing her hair up into a messy bun as she passed him another tray of marinated chicken. He just winked. “A full stomach fixes everything. Even wounded hearts.”
Across the deck, Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin were locked in a fierce ssam contest, each trying to create the perfect lettuce wrap. Jungkook was already on his second plate, cheeks puffed with food like a chipmunk. Yoongi nursed a beer, watching with an amused smirk.
Ji-eun slipped beside Millie, who had been nursing a barely-touched plate and sitting quietly at the edge of the group. Her eyes flicked every now and then to Hobi, who was pretending to laugh along with the boys, but his shoulders were still tense.
“Hey,” Ji-eun said gently, nudging Millie’s leg with her foot. “Still with me?”
Millie gave her a tired smile. “Barely. I feel… fuzzy.”
“That’s grief. And love. And mental whiplash.” Ji-eun chuckled. “But you’ll find your footing again. Both of you will.”
There was a quiet beat between them before Millie whispered, “He still blames himself.”
“I know,” Ji-eun replied. “But the thing about Hobi is—he never learned how to stop holding the world on his back.” Millie looked at her, grateful for the way Ji-eun always saw things straight through.
Then, as Ji-eun stood and dusted off her sweatpants, Millie tilted her head. “You good?” Ji-eun hesitated. Something flickered behind her eyes not sadness, not stress, but something quieter. Heavier.
Millie sat up straighter. “Wait… what?” Ji-eun turned back, biting her lip. Her fingers instinctively brushed over her lower stomach. Then, as if she couldn’t hold it anymore, she whispered, “I’m late.”
Millie blinked. “Like… how late?”
Millie’s eyes widened. “Wait. Ji-eun. Are you—?”
“I haven’t taken a test yet,” Ji-eun said quickly. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but...”
Just then, a familiar baritone voice called out from the grill.
“Ji-eun-ah! You want another skewer?”
Kim Taehyung stood in the glow of the fairy lights, holding up a plate, his boxy grin glowing blissfully unaware.
Millie’s jaw dropped as realization dawned.
Ji-eun flushed. “It’s… complicated. We’ve been careful. Mostly.”
Millie clutched her chest dramatically. “You and Taehyung?!”
“Shhhh!” Ji-eun hissed, laughing nervously as she grabbed Millie’s hand and dragged her inside. “Don’t start a scene! I still haven’t told him. I don’t even know yet!”
“But you might be carrying a Kim Taehyung baby?!” Millie whisper screamed, eyes bulging. “Girl, this is not a drill.”
They both collapsed into laughter in the hallway near the guest bathroom, muffled and giddy and terrified.
From the rooftop, Jiwoo peeked in suspiciously. “What are y’all doing? Is someone hiding dessert in there?”
“Nope! Girl stuff!” Ji-eun yelped, straightening up and giving her a grin too wide to be innocent.
Meanwhile, on the balcony, Hobi watched Millie disappear inside with Ji-eun. His thumb brushed the rim of his glass absently.
Yoongi leaned beside him.
“She’s been quiet after the fight,” the older man noted.
“She’s tired,” Hobi muttered.
“No, you’re both tired,” Yoongi corrected. “And angry. And scared.”
Hobi let out a bitter breath. “I thought we’d turned a corner. I thought we were okay.”
“You are okay. But grief doesn’t end after a fight or a kiss. It lingers. And when you love someone as much as you love her,” Yoongi added, looking him straight in the eye, “it hurts deeper when you feel like you’re failing.”
Hobi looked down. “I just want to protect her.”
“You don’t need to be her shield anymore,” Yoongi said softly. “You just need to be her equal.” (you get it? equal sign?? hahaha)
Later that night as everyone settled in sleeping bags and guest rooms, Hobi and Millie lay side by side in the dark, backs turned, space between them but no less present.
He broke the silence first. “I’m sorry I yelled. I hate that we did that in front of everyone.” Millie whispered, “We’re allowed to fall apart sometimes.”
He turned toward her, slowly brushing her hair from her cheek. “But I want to be better for you.” She turned too, eyes soft in the moonlight. “Then be with me. Not against me. We’ve lost too much already.”
He kissed her forehead. “We’ll keep choosing each other. Every damn time.” Outside the guest room, Ji-eun stood with her phone in the bathroom, staring at two pink lines.
Her breath hitched. She wasn’t just late. She was pregnant.
And she hadn’t told Taehyung. Yet.
The morning light streamed through gauzy curtains, catching in the floating dust and leftover scent of grilled meat and citronella candles. Inside the apartment, the silence was soft and heavy the kind that only comes after a night of emotional whiplash and shared sleepover secrets. Millie stirred first. She rolled over, instinctively reaching across the bed for hobi’s warmth, but Hobi wasn’t there. His side was still warm, though, like he hadn’t left long ago. A note on the nightstand read in his neat print
“Went out for a walk. Just clearing my head. Don’t worry. I love you. — H.”
She traced her fingers over the ink before sliding out from the covers. As she padded quietly toward the kitchen, she almost tripped over Jungkook, curled up in a burrito of blankets on the floor like a large puppy.
She tiptoed over him, then paused at the bathroom door. It was slightly cracked.
Inside, Ji-eun sat on the closed toilet seat, still in the oversized tee she’d borrowed from Millie last night, the test strip in her shaking hands.
Two pink lines. Clear as dawn.
Millie blinked, heart catching.
“Ji?” she whispered. Ji-eun looked up sharply, cheeks wet and eyes raw. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake—”
“You didn’t.” Millie stepped inside, shutting the door gently behind her. “You didn’t sleep, did you?” ji-eun laughed that brittle, breaking kind of laugh. “What’s sleep when you’re about to unravel your whole damn life?”
Millie slowly sank onto the bathtub’s edge. “Is it… for sure?” She lifted the stick. Millie winced. “Okay. Very sure.”
Ji-eun exhaled, thumb brushing over her knee. “I thought it was just stress, or the travel, or the tequila we took the night we watched that stupid Netflix doc about cults and ended up crying about capitalism.”
“You did cry,” Millie chuckled softly. “You said the cult leader had better branding than HYBE.”
“Well, apparently my uterus had other plans.” A beat. Ji-eun’s eyes flicked to Millie’s. “Millie. I don’t know what to do.”
Millie hesitated. “Have you told him?” Ji-eun’s laugh turned bitter. “Taehyung? No. God, no. I mean—this wasn’t supposed to be serious.”
Millie gave her a soft but firm look. “But you care about him.” Ji-eun shook her head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even… trying to be anything. It was just nights we needed to feel less alone. Music sessions that turned into drinks. Drinks that turned into…” Millie nodded gently. “I get it.”
“It was only supposed to be a one-time thing back at Jin’s release party for his album. And then it just kept… happening.” Ji-eun wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “We never talked about it. Never labeled it. It was fun, stupid, maybe a little self-destructive—but it felt safe. He made me feel seen.”
“And now?” Millie asked quietly.
“Now I’m pregnant with the most emotionally unreadable man in Korea’s baby, and I don’t even know if he wants a relationship, let alone a family.”
Millie reached out, squeezing her hand.
“Ji. You don’t have to know everything today. But you don’t have to carry it alone, either.”
Ji-eun let out a shaky breath, leaning into her.
“I’m terrified. What if he doesn’t want it? What if this ruins what little we do have?”
Millie pulled her tighter. “Then we deal. Together. And if he does want it, Ji… maybe this isn’t the end of something. Maybe it’s the beginning.”
A long, quiet silence stretched between them, until Ji-eun murmured, “Will you be with me when I tell him?”
Millie smiled. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
Outside the bathroom, unknown to them, a figure had paused in the hallway.
Taehyung stood frozen, back pressed against the wall, breath caught.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.
He’d just come looking for the kitchen, had heard murmurs — and then…
And now, he couldn’t move.
The kettle clicked off, steam curling into the soft golden haze as Ji-eun stood in the silence of the kitchen, hands trembling slightly around the chipped mug. Her heartbeat was louder than the city sounds outside.
She hadn’t meant to say it aloud hadn’t meant to break down like that in front of Millie. But it was out now. There was no stuffing the truth back into a drawer.
Then a voice, deep and low, broke the silence.
“How long have you known?”
Taehyung stood there hair a sleepy mess, hoodie thrown over his head, bare feet on the tile. But his eyes… they were wide awake. Raw. Electric with tension.
Ji-eun froze, mug halfway to her lips. “Tae…”
His throat bobbed. “I heard. I wasn’t trying to. I just…” he gestured vaguely behind him. “Walked by.”
She didn’t answer right away.
Taehyung stepped forward. “Is it mine?”
Her lips parted stunned he even had to ask.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Of course it is.”
“You didn’t tell me,” he said, voice tight.
“I was going to.” Ji-eun’s voice wavered. “I just— I didn’t know how. You and I never… We never talked about what this was.”
“You didn’t think I deserved to know?”
“That’s not it,” she snapped, voice rising. “Don’t twist it. I was scared, Tae. We were messy. We weren’t supposed to feel this much.”
He stepped back like the words had slapped him. “So you regret it.”
Her eyes widened. “What? No—”
“It was just convenience is it?” His voice was cold now. Detached. “Late-night texts and fuck-you’s. Was that all it was?”
“Don’t do that,” Ji-eun whispered. “Don’t turn this into a defense mechanism because you’re scared, too.”
Taehyung stared at her. The silence cracked and settled between them.
Then he exhaled slow, deep, shaking.
“I don’t regret you., I don’t regret whatever happened between us” Ji-eun blinked.
“I was terrified, yeah. I thought if I labeled it, I’d lose it. But you were never just a warm bed to me.”
“I should’ve said it sooner,” he whispered. “But now—now we’ve got something bigger to face. And I’m not running from it. Not from you.”
He stepped closer, his hands finding hers gently.
“You’re not alone, Ji.” And in that moment, Ji-eun cracked. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing quietly as he held her tighter than he ever had.
Flashback – At Jin’s Echo Release Party
The studio was dim, lit only by neon purple lights and a flickering monitor.
Ji-eun had come by to say his congratulations ti Jin’s new album, only to find Taehyung slumped on the couch, headphones on, eyes closed.
He looked tired. Like the world was too heavy.
“I didn’t know anyone was here.”
Taehyung smiled tiredly. “Didn’t want to be home.”
They sat in silence for a beat. Taehyung just looked at her.
“You’re really beautiful has anyone said it to you?.”
Ji-eun blushed. “That’s dangerously close to a poetic pick-up line.”
He leaned in, suddenly so close her breath hitched.
“Would it work if it was?”
The next moment, her mouth was on his, sloppy and wet. And the studio blurred around them.
It was the first of many nights. And they never talked about what it meant not until now.
Present: Millie & Hobi’s Bedroom, Later That Day…
Millie sat cross-legged on their bed, hair twisted into a loose bun, flipping through old photo strips tucked in a drawer pre-fame, post-pain, early-love memories.
Hobi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re quiet.” Millie didn’t look up. “Still thinking.” Hobi walked over slowly, sitting beside her.
“I didn’t handle yesterday well.” Millie raised a brow. “Understatement.”He winced. “Okay, maybe I was a raging ball of unresolved tension.”
“You mean the yelling?” “I was scared,” he said softly. That pulled her eyes up.
“I saw Alyssa and my whole body remembered the worst version of me. The version who hurt you. Who ruined us.”
Millie set the photos down. “I know.”
He looked at her, vulnerable. “And when I saw you freeze up when she pushed you before Millie, I still see it when I close my eyes. I still hear you sobbing at the hospital .”
His hand found hers. She pressed it to her lips. “I’m working on not panicking,” he whispered. “I’m trying to be better for you. For us. For whatever comes next.”
A pause. Then he looked up, suddenly unsure.
“Do you still want a future with me? Even after all this?”
The room held its breath.
Millie swallowed. Then nodded slowly.
“Only if you’re willing to build it with me. Not just for me.”
Hobi exhaled something like a sob and a laugh.
Then he kissed her forehead, long and full of apology.
“We’ll build it,” he said. “One brick at a time.”
3 days later. The city skyline glittered behind them, laughter echoing through the rooftop as the boys passed around takeout boxes and beer. Someone played music through a Bluetooth speaker, and for once, the world felt light again. Ji-eun sat between Taehyung and Jimin, her fingers nervously tugging at the sleeves of her oversized sweater. Millie noticed the way Tae hadn’t let go of Ji-eun’s hand once.
Yoongi raised his glass. “To surviving another chaotic month.”
“Cheers,” Namjoon said, lifting his own with a sigh.
Ji-eun stood suddenly. Her knees nearly knocked together. “Um… guys?”
The table quieted. All eyes turned.
Ji-eun glanced at Taehyung. He gave her a slight nod. She swallowed. “I’m… pregnant.”
The silence was deafening.
“What?!” Jungkook nearly choked on his drink. His wide eyes flicked between her and Taehyung. “Hyung—seriously?!”
Taehyung, uncharacteristically still, just gave a small nod.
“You’re going to be a dad?!” Jungkook’s voice cracked. “We were just talking about new rehearsal schedules last week, and now you’re—Hyung!”
Yoongi, ever composed, set his beer down. “Ji-eun… how far along?”
Jin blinked. “Which means—”
Namjoon’s brows furrowed. “The night of Jin-hyung's release party.”
Jimin gave a soft whistle. “Well… okay then.”
The reactions spiraled half congratulations, half shocked stares, all genuine chaos.
Except for Millie. She sat back, watching it all from the far end of the table, a smile glued to her face.
Everyone was here. Everyone was listening. Everyone was hugging Ji-eun. And yet all she could think about…
...was how alone she’d felt the day she found out about her own pregnancy.
No celebration. No announcement. Just a cold bathroom floor in Ji-eun’s old apartment, hiding from a world that wouldn’t have understood.
No hugs. No fairy lights. Just silence.
Millie sat on the couch, absentmindedly twisting one of her rings on her finger. Ji-eun found her there, curled inward, staring at nothing.
“You okay?” Ji-eun asked, sitting beside her gently.
Millie nodded too quickly. “Of course. It’s your night.”
Ji-eun tilted her head. “Which means nothing if my best friend looks like she’s falling apart inside.” Millie bit her lip.
“I’m happy for you,” she said, voice too soft. “Really. But seeing everyone excited like that, hearing your news… I guess it brought back memories.”
Ji-eun’s face softened. “You mean when you were pregnant.”
Millie nodded, eyes glassy. “When I ran away. When I didn’t get to tell them. When everything about my baby was born out of pain and betrayal. I never had a moment like you just had.”
Ji-eun reached over and took her hand.
“You didn’t get that moment,” she said, “but you fought every day for that baby. You were alone and terrified and still held yourself together. That makes you the strongest mother I know.”
“I just… I wish things had been different.”
“I know,” Ji-eun whispered. “And if I could give you even a piece of that moment now I would.”
They sat there, forehead to forehead, hearts syncing in silence.
The Next Morning Back at the apartment. Millie stood with Hobi’s mother in the small courtyard, clipping herbs for lunch. The sunlight was soft, and the hum of summer cicadas filled the space between their words.
“Ji-eun’s news was surprising,” his mom said gently.
Millie nodded, pressing rosemary sprigs into a small bowl. “It was.”
Hobi’s mom looked at her, really looked.
“You’re carrying something, anak.”
Millie blinked. She always forgot how piercing her gaze could be warm but all-seeing.
“I guess… I still grieve what I lost,” Millie admitted. “And even now, with everything getting better, I sometimes feel like I don’t belong in the joy. Like I missed the window.”
Hobi’s mother wiped her hands and placed them on Millie’s cheeks.
“Oh, Millie. Grief doesn’t expire. And motherhood… it isn’t measured by announcements or how many people clapped. It’s measured in midnight tears and showing up again and again.”
Tears filled Millie’s eyes.
“I see you. I saw you even when you couldn’t see yourself.”
Millie’s voice cracked. “Thank you.”
“Your pain didn’t make you less worthy of happiness,” she whispered. “It made you more human. More ready.”
Then she gently pulled her into an embrace, strong and warm and completely motherly.
“You’re part of this family, hija. And whatever future you choose… we’ll all walk beside you.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
The moment Dispatch dropped the photos, the internet erupted.
[BREAKING] “BTS’ Kim Taehyung Expecting First Child?”
Paired with grainy rooftop photos of Ji-eun’s gentle belly bump, and Taehyung’s hand protectively over it.
The company phones didn’t stop ringing. Jungkook swore in the hallway. Namjoon was in a meeting with legal. Yoongi pulled Taehyung into a locked conference room while their PR manager had a visible migraine.
“Do we have a statement?” Jimin asked, pacing.
“They want to do it together,” manager confirmed. “No denials. No soft-shading.”
Jungkook exploded. “Why the fuck were they on the rooftop like that? Do you guys want Dispatch to make a scrapbook of your whole damn private life?!”
Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t supposed to go public yet.”
Ji-eun, sitting on a chair with a pale face and trembling hands, finally spoke up.
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice raw. “I didn’t mean for this to become… another PR disaster.”
Yoongi’s gaze softened. “It’s not. You’re not.”
Jungkook, still breathing heavily, ran a hand through his hair and stormed out.
“Let him cool off,” Hobi muttered.
Namjoon nodded. “This is a storm, yeah. But it’s not the kind we haven’t weathered before.”
And behind it all… Millie watched.
Silently. Carefully. Noticing the panic, the protection, the collective instinct to circle the wagons for Ji-eun.
And again, she felt it that hollow ache in her stomach. That deep-rooted longing.
The sterile white walls still carried the same scent: antiseptic and ghosts at the SNU Hospital, Women's Health Wing
Millie sat in the small exam room, back pressed to the chair, hands folded over her stomach.
“I wasn’t sure I’d be back here,” she whispered.
The nurse gave her a kind smile. “Many don’t come back after trauma. But healing takes more courage than most people realize.”
Dr. Seo entered moments later gentle, efficient. “Millie-ssi. I read through your chart again. It’s good you came for the follow-up. We’ll do a full pelvic scan and bloodwork, just to ensure everything has stabilized since the miscarriage.”
An hour later, after quiet machines, soft pressure, and polite silences
Dr. Seo frowned at the screen. “Hmm.”
Millie stiffened. “Is something wrong?”
“No. But something’s… unusual.”
She adjusted the monitor, squinted, and took another scan.
“I’d like to run an additional blood test,” she said carefully. “Your endometrial lining is... thicker than expected for someone post-loss. I’m also seeing a small pocket of... well, it might be early gestation, but it’s too soon to confirm.”
Millie blinked. “I don’t… I haven’t been trying.”
Dr. Seo tilted her head. “Sometimes, the body has its own plans.”
Millie’s pulse roared in her ears. “Are you saying—”
“I’m saying it’s possible. But I won’t confirm anything yet. Come back in a week.”
Millie left the hospital in a daze.
At Night: Back at the apartment, She found herself standing on their balcony, overlooking Seoul’s glittering skyline, hoodie pulled over her head.
Hobi joined her quietly, a blanket in one hand and her favorite tea in the other.
He wrapped the blanket around her without a word.
“You’re quieter than usual,” he finally said.
They stood there in silence for a long while before she spoke.
“Ji-eun’s announcement made me feel small.”
“And the clinic today… I found out something unexpected.”
His brows lifted, but he didn’t push.
She turned to him fully. “They think I might be pregnant again. But it’s too early to tell.”
His eyes widened — not with panic, not with fear. But awe.
“You’re scared,” he said gently.
And then he did something unexpected he knelt in front of her, hands on her waist, forehead against her stomach.
“Then we’ll be scared together.”
She laughed through a sob.
And then Hobi looked up, eyes shining.
“Millie… do you still want a future with me? With this? Even if we’re broken sometimes?”
She nodded slowly, heart thudding.
He smiled softly. “Then let’s build it. One small miracle at a time.”
One Week Later: The Test Results Seoul National University Hospital.
The room was quieter than she remembered. Millie sat stiffly on the examination table, hands clasped, trying to regulate her breathing as Dr. Seo returned with her chart and a folded paper in hand.
“It’s official,” the doctor said gently. “You’re pregnant.”
For a moment, the room tilted. “Your hormone levels doubled, and the gestational sac is clearer now on ultrasound. You’re just about five weeks along, possibly six. It’s still early — and I want you to come in regularly this time, no stress, no pressure. But Millie… congratulations.” Millie’s lips parted in shock, hands coming up to her face.
Her heart ached, but also fluttered. After everything… after loss and grief and running away she was pregnant again.
Millie didn’t tell anyone yet. Not Ji-eun. Not the gang.
She wanted him to know first. In a way that was soft. Sacred. The opposite of chaos.
She set the table herself candles flickering, jazz playing quietly, two steaming plates of samgyeopsal and rice, grilled to perfection. She even chilled his favorite makgeolli.
Hobi walked in, confused by the quiet luxury of the moment.
“You cooked?” he blinked.
She nodded, biting her lip. “I wanted to make tonight special.”
He kissed her cheek, wary but smiling. “Did I miss something?”
Millie smiled softly and handed him a small gift box.
Inside was a tiny black baby onesie and the ultrasound photo.
Inside was a small ultrasound photo.
Across the front in gold: “Hope 2.0 loading…”
His eyes lifted to meet hers, wide and wet.
She nodded, lips trembling.
He stumbled back a step, then forward again, burying his face in her neck. His breath came out in a stuttered exhale. “Oh my God. Again? We’re really—”
He kissed her with every broken piece, every hopeful shard, every inch of the man who had once doubted he’d deserve this again.
Then looked up at her, eyes wide, lips trembling.
She nodded, tears welling.
“I wanted to tell you right. No media. No fear. Just… us.”
Hobi let out a shaky breath, then pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her hair, her face, her lips, over and over.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for not giving up on us.” He gently caressed Millie’s unnoticeable bump.
Their dinner went cold, forgotten but neither of them cared.
Because tonight… they were building again.
But from something deeper.
Flashback: Couple Years Ago at the Love Yourself Tour…
A young Hobi stood backstage, watching Yoongi cradle his godchild at a fan meet break. He laughed at something, then turned to Hoseok.
“You ever think about it?” Yoongi asked, rocking the baby gently.
Hobi looked down at his hands, once trained to move in sharp rhythms. “All the time. But I never thought I’d be someone safe enough for that.”
Yoongi just smiled. “You are. You just haven’t met the person who’ll remind you yet.”
Millie sat by the window with a blanket over her knees and a quiet kind of joy sitting just beneath her ribs.
She hadn’t told anyone else yet. The news still felt fragile like wet paint she didn’t want the world to touch too soon. But she knew it wouldn’t stay hidden for long. Especially in their world. Especially with fans who could catch a baby bump from three pixels and a shadow.
Hobi entered the room with two mugs and leaned down to kiss her temple. "Still haven’t told Ji-eun?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. “I will. Just… not yet. I want it to be mine for a little longer.” He understood. Maybe too well.
Because the last time it was stolen before it even bloomed.
It started with one grainy photo.
A blurry snapshot of a woman in a mask and hoodie walking out of Seoul National Hospital. The caption read:
“Is that Millie?? Is she Pregnant again?”
Within hours, hashtags bloomed:
#MillieAtSNH
#PregnancyRumorsAgain
#HobiAndMilliePartTwo?
ARMYs dissected everything. Millie saw it all. And her stomach turned.
She didn’t want this to be another war zone.
Months Ago — After the First Asia Tour Stop in Manila for Hope on the Stage
The night had been long and exhausting.
Hobi had collapsed into the hotel bed beside Millie, sweaty and sore but humming.
“I had a dream,” he whispered against her shoulder. “That we were in a field. You were holding a baby, and I was chasing two toddlers who looked like me but had your eyes.”
Millie laughed, sleepy. “Chaotic.”
“Perfect,” he murmured, drawing lazy circles on her belly. “Do you think I’d be a good dad?”
She turned to face him, heart swelling. “You already are. You were born for it.”
Hobi had closed his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Then I hope the world is ready. Because I want that with you. All of it.”
The memory twisted now bittersweet.
That dream had nearly died after the miscarriage.
But here they were again… with a second chance.
BTS Group Chat: Later that day…
girl don’t lie I know something’s up 👀
Why is Millie not in this chat? suspicious
Millie. Now’s not the time to pull a Taylor Swift move. Tell us or we riot.
You’re glowing. Don’t think we didn’t see it.
Millie bit her lip, smiling at the screen half guilty, half amused.
She looked at Hobi on the couch. “They know.”
He smirked. “Told you. You can’t hide from hyungs and the maknaes.”
But instead of replying, she pocketed her phone.
She’d tell them. Just not over text. Not like last time.
This time, they would gather. This time, it would be hers.
“I don’t want this baby to grow up in fear,” Millie whispered as they lay in bed. “Or shame. Or with the world deciding its story.”
Hobi kissed her bare shoulder. “Then we write it ourselves. Starting now.”
“Do you still see that dream? The field. The babies. Us.”
He didn’t answer with words. Just held her close, placed his palm flat against her belly, and closed his eyes.
The air smelled like grilled galbi and corn butter. The string lights overhead flickered gold, casting soft halos over the quiet faces of the seven BTS members, plus Ji-eun, Jiwoo, and Millie.
This wasn’t a comeback party or a celebration. It was something slower, softer. A gathering long overdue.
Yoongi handed Millie a bowl of jjigae and gently nudged her elbow. “Eat. You’ve been staring at the tofu for five minutes.”
Millie smiled, nervous. “I… okay. But I actually need to say something first.”
Across from her, Namjoon and Jungkook straightened. Taehyung leaned back, arms folded. Hobi reached for her hand under the table without a word.
Ji-eun watched quietly, lips pressed together in a knowing curve.
Millie inhaled deeply. “So. You’ve probably seen the photos online. And I know what everyone’s thinking.”
She placed her spoon down.
For a moment, no one spoke. The Seoul skyline sparkled around them like it was holding its breath.
“Millie!” Jin gasped, leaping to his feet and nearly knocking over his chair. “You little squirrel! AGAIN?!”
Jungkook’s eyes widened so fast it looked like his soul left his body. “Wait—WHAT?!”
Yoongi let out a single, stunned breath. “...Holy shit.”
Taehyung’s gaze flitted to Hobi, then back to Millie. A small, rare smile touched his lips. “Congratulations,” he said simply. “Both of you.”
Namjoon reached for his glass, blinking hard, like he was trying to absorb the information. “You okay?” he asked Millie.
Her eyes softened. “I think… yeah. I am now.”
Jimin rounded the table, pulling her into a warm hug. “We got you this time. No one’s running. We’re not letting go.”
As the night unfolded, laughter returned. Jokes were made. Jungkook begged to be godfather again. Yoongi whispered a quiet, “I knew it,” and handed Millie a small box of prenatal vitamins he had apparently picked up days ago, “just in case.”
the next morning the hybe office is in shambles once again
The boardroom was silent but tense. A senior HYBE exec clicked the screen to show a flurry of headlines:
“Two BTS’ Women Pregnant?! What’s Going On Behind the Scenes?”
“Millie Spotted at OB-GYN: Are Hobi and Millie Expecting Again?”
“ARMYs Divided Over Ji-eun’s and Taehyung’s Surprise Baby News”
HYBE Legal cleared their throat. “The fans are split. Some are thrilled. But the antis are sharpening their knives. Netizen culture won’t be kind.”
Another exec added, “We can’t afford another scandal. Not with enlistment transitions wrapping up. We suggest a unified press release—something vague but clean. Control the message.”
Bang PD was quiet, unreadable.
He finally looked up. “And what if they don’t want to be controlled?”
Social Media…
Alyssa’s Private X (formerly Twitter) Account, 3:13 PM
Alyssa hadn’t posted in months.
[@alyssaqueenXO: “It’s always the same girls that get to mess up and still be celebrated. Must be nice to have a fandom kiss your bruises for you 💅🏼”]
The tweet spread like gasoline.
Speculation exploded. Old drama resurfaced. A few toxic stans began pulling screenshots from Millie’s past the heartbreak, the betrayal, the infamous Manila flight.
But this time… something changed.
Jiwoo posted an IG story minutes later:
[“Some people talk when no one’s listening. We move with love, not likes. #FamilyOverFakes”]
ARMYs rallied fast flooding Alyssa’s replies with sunflower emojis, baby bootie GIFs, and reminders of the new chapter forming.
This time, they weren’t alone.
“Okay,” Ji-eun whispered, pulling Jiwoo, Jimin, and Jungkook into a corner. “We’re throwing Millie a surprise reveal because she deserves it. Nothing huge. Just... something soft. Something beautiful.”
Jiwoo grinned. “I already have the perfect projector light for a galaxy ceiling vibe.”
Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “I’ll make a lyric video. Something with her voice layered on that demo she left behind in my studio.”
Jimin clasped his hands dramatically. “I’m on cake duty. Let me channel Martha Stewart if she were ARMY.”
Taehyung, quietly passing by, paused and said, “Make it real. Not branded. No logos. Just love.”
And just like that, the plan was in motion.
Millie sat cross-legged in the hallway outside their bedroom, phone in hand, eyes scrolling through endless tweets.
Fan edits of her and Hobi. Sweet comments from moms across the world. Soft support. And
“Look at this,” she said when Hobi joined her. “Some fan drew our baby as a dancing bear in a sunflower onesie.”
He chuckled, sat beside her, then pulled her into his chest. “They’re rooting for us.”
She nodded. “Feels different this time.”
He held her tighter. “Because this time, we’re not running. And we’re not hiding.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Jungkook’s home studio was straight out of a wattpad fic in reality. The lights were off when Millie stepped inside guided only by Hobi’s hand and the faint scent of cake and something lavender in the air.
“Where are we—”
“Ssh,” he whispered, grinning.
Suddenly, the room bloomed to life.
A galaxy of warm purple and gold stars scattered across the ceiling. A soft piano instrumental her voice woven through the chords played from the speakers. A looping video glowed on the wall: a silhouette of a woman holding her belly surrounded by wild sunflowers and dance shoes.
The title in white cursive read:
“The Light We Get to Keep.”
Millie gasped. She turned as Jiwoo and Ji-eun appeared from behind the small cake stand, both in oversized sweaters, teary-eyed and giggling.
“You guys—”
“Surprise!” chimed Jimin, jumping up from the couch with sparkler candles in each hand.
“You’re having another baby and we love you and I made the cake and I didn’t even burn the kitchen this time!”
The cake read:
🌻 Baby Jung: Take Two, But Stronger 🌻
And as Millie blinked back tears, Yoongi stepped forward, quiet as ever, holding a small velvet pouch.
“I was saving this for the right moment,” he said, pressing it into her hand.
Inside: a tiny gold pendant in the shape of a dancing bear, engraved with “하나에서 둘로 — From One, To Two.”
Her tears came freely now. No fanfare. No announcements.
[@alyssaqueenXO: “Y’all act like having a baby with an idol is personality now 😭 no talent, just timing.”]
[@alyssaqueenXO: “Where were these fans when I was performing with actual skill and passion? Guess it’s baby bumps over dancing skill now.”]
ARMYs came down like thunder.
— “You mean the woman who sabotaged a press event and assaulted someone?”
— “Talent doesn’t equal decency. Millie and Ji-eun earned love, not scandal.”
— “Jealousy looks real nasty in lowercase.”
— “You had the whole world in your hands and dropped it to get dick down.”
#ProtectMillieAndJieun
#AlyssaUnmasked
#FromOneToTwo
Within hours, HYBE issued a soft statement “condemning personal attacks” while “clarifying no formal affiliations remain.”
But the internet smelled blood.
Alyssa didn’t log off. She doubled down.
Ji-eun’s First OB Appointment Seoul Women’s Clinic, late morning…
Ji-eun sat in the waiting room alone, hands trembling over her file. The nurse had just called her in when the door swung open behind her.
“Sorry I’m late,” came a low voice.
Taehyung, in a long gray coat and cap, holding two drinks and a small stuffed tiger.
He sat beside her like it was nothing like they hadn’t barely spoken since the night of the dinner.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” she whispered.
“I had to,” he replied, looking straight ahead. “He or she deserves both of us.”
She reached for the drink silently, heart racing.
Inside the appointment, they heard the heartbeat together.
And for the first time in weeks, Ji-eun didn’t feel alone.
As night fell, Ji-eun and Millie sat on the foundation rooftop.
Ji-eun finally broke the silence. “You ever think it would be this hard?”
Millie smiled faintly. “I never thought it would happen at all.”
“I can’t believe we’re both pregnant” Ji-eun smiled
They clinked their tea cups quietly.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
The rooftop had been completely transformed. White balloons floated in bunches above elegant picnic tables adorned with lavender and sunflower motifs a subtle tribute to both women. Fairy lights zigzagged overhead, catching the sunset as soft jazz versions of BTS songs played in the background.
There were two massive question mark boxes at the center of the rooftop one with “Baby Jung” painted in gold, the other with “Baby Kim” in lavender. Surrounding them were water guns, pin-the-baby-on-the-member posters, blue and pink smoke bombs, and a DIY prediction board with hilarious guesses from the gang.
“It’s a girl. If it’s a boy, I’ll shave my head.” – Jungkook
“Both boys. Don’t look at me like that, it’s BTS karma.” – Yoongi
“A girl, definitely. Baby Jung will inherit Hobi’s dimples and Millie’s resting bitch face.” – Jimin
“Whichever it is, they better not poop on me.” – Jin
Everyone wore black and white, neutral colors. The only rule? No hints, no spoilers, and no drama. Just love.
Mi-young, Jiwoo, and Mr. Jung were already seated near the cake table, beaming like they were about to meet royalty. Jiwoo had organized most of the games, and she was currently dragging Tae into a balloon-popping challenge while Millie and Ji-eun sat fanning themselves under parasols like queens.
“Okay, attention!” Jiwoo clapped her hands. “First up: Baby Bingo, but with chaos.”
“CHAOS?” Jungkook perked up from the grill.
“Each square has a BTS member-related task. You have to complete five in a row for a prize.”
“Wait—what’s ‘Get slapped by Yoongi’ doing on here?!” Taehyung laughed.
Yoongi, deadpan “It’s tradition.”
— Jungkook attempted to recite all of Millie’s past pregnancy cravings in under 30 seconds.
“Spicy mango, tofu nuggets, purple grapes but only if peeled, and—uh—unagi sushi without the rice?!”
“Correct. Somehow,” Millie groaned.
— Jimin and Ji-eun competed in a diapering speed round. Jimin won. Barely.
“I’ve been preparing for this since No More Dream,” he declared.
— Hobi’s dad, Mr. Jung, accidentally got blasted with a pink water gun during a relay game and shouted, “IS THIS A SIGN?!”
Everyone froze. Jiwoo screamed, “NO SPOILERS, DAD!”
As night fully settled in, the rooftop lights dimmed. Everyone gathered around the two huge boxes. Ji-eun stood with Taehyung, visibly nervous. Millie held Hobi’s hand so tight his knuckles had gone pale.
“Alright,” said Namjoon, stepping forward as MC. “These incredible women are both five months along. Two miracles we’re celebrating tonight. And it’s time to find out if Bangtan is being joined by little kings or queens — or both.”
Drumrolls patted against the box sides.
“ON THREE—!” Jungkook yelled.
“Wait!” Ji-eun blurted. “We made predictions! Let’s check the board!”
“Tae thinks Ji-eun’s carrying a boy.”
“Yoongi voted girl for Millie, boy for Ji-eun.”
“Mi-young voted girl for both because she wants to teach them how to bully their fathers.”
Ji-eun’s box exploded into a cloud of blue confetti and sparklers. Taehyung burst into laughter, pulling her into a full-body hug as the group shouted with joy.
“IT’S A BOY!” screamed Jiwoo, wiping her eyes.
Pink and gold smoke flooded the rooftop, showering them in glitter. A recording of her voice played over the speakers:
“This is the light we get to keep… and she’s already dancing.”
Hobi froze. His mouth parted as if in prayer.
“It’s a girl?!” he whispered.
Millie nodded, teary-eyed. “A girl.”
The noise was deafening. Jimin sobbed into a napkin. Yoongi handed Hobi a miniature sunflower crown. Mr. Jung clapped so hard he knocked over his tea.
Hobi spun her gently, both laughing, crying, kissing in front of their chosen family.
“She’s going to ruin me,” he murmured.
“She already has,” Millie replied with a grin.
As the rooftop cleared out, only a few remained Millie, Ji-eun, Yoongi, Jimin, and the soon-to-be dads.
They lay on picnic blankets, heads close together, watching the stars.
“She’ll have your laugh,” Millie whispered to Hobi.
“And your stubbornness,” he smiled.
Tae rested a hand on Ji-eun’s belly. “He kicked tonight.”
“I know,” she said softly. “He always does when you’re near.”
Yoongi handed Millie something wrapped in linen. Another gift.
Inside: a framed lyric sheet.
“From One to Two” — a lullaby Yoongi secretly recorded, with a placeholder vocal… by Jimin.
“Don’t cry,” Jimin warned, already teary himself. “I sound like a dying fairy in the demo.”
“Then she’s going to love it,” Millie smiled.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Morning at the Jung Residences, Millie gagged so hard her forehead hit the sink. Again.
“I swear I didn’t even eat that much last night,” she groaned between heaves, clutching her stomach and breathing through her nose. “It was just one kimchi pancake—”
“—and a handful of wasabi peas, spicy ramen, and half a mango,” Hobi called from the hallway, holding her hair back with one hand and a warm washcloth with the other. “That combo could kill a small dragon.”
Millie let out a weak laugh before groaning again. “Remind me to never eat ever again.”
“You said that yesterday,” he said, gently dabbing her forehead.
“Yesterday I didn’t want to punch your face.”
Later that morning, she lay curled on the couch in one of his oversized shirts while Hobi stood in the kitchen, meticulously slicing apples into tiny flower shapes.
“You don’t need to do that,” she mumbled from under the blanket.
“I do,” he said, placing the plate beside her. “You yelled at me last night for handing you a ‘normal ass banana like a stranger.’”
She blinked. “Okay, that I vaguely remember.”
“Why are you crying?” Ji-eun asked, completely alarmed.
“She just called Jimin’s song so warm it feels like a sweater made of stars and then started sobbing,” Hobi whispered from the side.
Millie hiccuped through tears. “Because it does.”
Jimin melted. “You’re hormonal but poetic, no lie.”
Minutes later, she laughed so hard at Jin’s dad joke in the group chat that she cried again. Then cried harder because she missed Jin. Then cried because she wanted cheese, but only the kind from Busan, the one Jungkook always shares to her, from that one night market stand they visited once at 1AM.
Yoongi, watching from the other end of the room, turned to Hobi and muttered, “She’s nesting. Brace yourself.”
“I am braced,” Hobi whispered. “I haven’t slept in three nights because she says the baby kicks more during jazz music and now we’re listening to Miles Davis on loop like it’s a jazz cafe in 1972.”
Later that night, Hobi found her standing barefoot in the fridge light, eating cold tofu straight from the container with a spoon.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, amused and groggy.
“I needed something soft and emotionally stable,” she said. “And this tofu gets me.”
He didn’t argue. Just kissed her temple and reached for a spoon to join her.
One Week Later Millie was scheduled for her Routine Checkup, The doctor moved the wand across her belly and smiled.
“Do you want to hear it?”
Millie gripped Hobi’s hand. He nodded.
And then—tha-thump. tha-thump. tha-thump.
The heartbeat. Their baby’s.
Millie covered her mouth with her free hand as tears slipped out.
Hobi exhaled slowly, trying to hold it together. “That’s ours,” he whispered.
Later that night, they lay in bed, the soft hum of the humidifier tells them to sleep when Millie suddenly sat up straight.
“What? What is it? You okay?” he asked, bolting upright.
She grabbed his hand and pressed it gently to her belly.
There it was. The faintest nudge. A flutter. Like a soft tap from inside.
“She kicked,” Millie whispered, wide-eyed. “She actually kicked.”
Hobi cupped her face, forehead pressed against hers, laughing and crying all at once.
“No,” Millie whispered, emotion thick in her throat. “She’s saying she’s still here.”
Social Media Snippets:
📸 @millieziel: “She kicked for the first time… during a jazz solo. Hobi’s convinced she’s a tiny saxophonist.” 🎷💗
📸 @uarmyhope: “My daughter already has better rhythm than me in high school. #BabyJung”
ARMYs flooded the comments:
— “This is the pregnancy rom-com I didn’t know I needed.”
— “STOP. I’m crying in my cubicle.”
— “Protect them at all costs.”
Meanwhile At Taehyung’s Apartment, The silence between them had become a living thing. It breathed, shifted, lingered like a ghost in the hallway.
Ji-eun sat on the edge of the bed, ankles swollen and mind spinning. Taehyung was in the kitchen again, chopping ginger and lemon for her tea the way her mother used to quietly, efficiently, without looking at her unless he had to.
She hated that she still needed him.
She hated more that he kept showing up anyway.
"You're on your feet too much again," he said softly, placing the tea beside her. "Doctor said rest. Remember?"
"I remember a lot of things," she replied, eyes on the mug, not him.
A beat passed. He sighed.
"Trying what?" she snapped before she could stop herself. "Trying to be present now that you got me pregnant? Trying to act like everything’s normal when you ghosted me for weeks? Trying to fix something you haven’t even apologized for?”
His jaw clenched. “I didn’t ghost you.”
“Then what was it? You shut me out after the dinner, disappeared into your schedule, left me to face this alone again.”
He didn’t raise his voice. He never did. That was almost worse.
“I shut you out,” he said carefully, “because I didn’t know if I deserved to be let back in.”
Ji-eun blinked, stunned by the honesty in his tone.
“I don’t want pity,” she said finally.
“And I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep,” he answered. “But I want to be here. I want to be in this. With you. With them,” he said, nodding toward her belly.
But this time, it wasn’t as sharp.
Ji-eun looked away, brushing at the tear that slid down her cheek. “I don’t know how to trust you again.”
“Then don’t,” he whispered. “Not yet. Just let me try to earn it. Day by day.”
Millie invited JI-eun to a Prenatal Class the Following Weekend,
“Did I really agree to this?” Ji-eun muttered as she adjusted her oversized hoodie.
“Too late,” Millie whispered back, nudging her shoulder. “We’re bonding over fake baby dolls and breathing exercises now.”
The prenatal class instructor was enthusiastic painfully so. “Okay parents, let’s talk labor positions! You’ll want to learn how to counter the pressure during contractions…”
As Hobi sat behind Millie with a birthing ball, Ji-eun hesitated with Taehyung.
“Come on,” he said gently, guiding her shoulders down. “I promise I won’t drop you.”
“You dropped my favorite mug last week.”
“I won’t drop you,” he repeated with a soft smile.
When Ji-eun leaned back against his chest during the practice hold, something in her posture shifted.
She didn’t melt. But she let herself breathe.
The city shimmered below. She stood outside alone until she felt a coat drape over her shoulders.
Taehyung joined her, a blanket over his arm and two hot chocolates in hand.
“Millie’s kicking,” she said softly, not turning. “She texted. She said Hobi’s talking to her belly again like it’s a podcast.”
He chuckled. “Sounds about right.”
Ji-eun took a sip of the drink. “I’m scared I’m going to do this wrong.”
“You won’t,” he said immediately.
She looked at him, really looked. “You don’t know that.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I know you. And I know I want to be here for it all of it. Even if you hate me sometimes.”
She just leaned into his shoulder for the first time in months.
someone please tell hobi that jazz music doesn’t increase fetal IQ
🐿️:
she literally kicked in time with the solo taehyung stfu!!!
🐥:
she’s going to be born with sunglasses and a saxophone
🐨:
can’t believe we’re gonna be uncles to 2 babies at the same time
🐱:
i’ve already started writing their debut album
💃 jiwoo:
not Millie’s baby’s first words being “drop the beat”
🦋 millie:
she just did a full somersault to lo-fi beats
🍼 ji-eun:
our son only moves when he hears V talk. suspicious.
🐯:
it’s because she knows excellence. she’s a taehyung stan.
🐨:
