being the 8th member of bts, where the maknae is particularly fond of you and doesn't bother in hiding his favoritism adoration to you // or // short scenarios where jeongguk's small obsession with you bleed through his usual composed demeanor
pairing: jeon jeongguk x 8th member!male reader
style: written + smau! cw: reader is older so he refers to you as "hyung" several times, jeongguk being truly, completely smitten with you, mention of sehun and kai from exo (lets all be grown, guys), jeongguk being homotron9000, shameless jeongguk, wrote this with his respective years in mind so if he seems "ooc" or unlike himself in respect to him presently in 2026...that's why LOLZ
[2016]
when bts was first growing in popularity, the types of questions you got were certainly following a certain pattern. despite being around for a couple of years, not much was known about your guys’ personalities since there wasn't that type of demand for information until your fanbase grew.
and of course, when the attention grew, the odd and incessant questions about your personal lives grew with it. which included repeated awkward conversations, like;
“so, what is your ideal type, [name]?”
the talk show host had gone through many of the members already, leaving you, jin, and jeongguk to answer the question.
“hm, i don't know. in terms of physical appearance, nothing in particular gets my attention,” the talk show host makes a sound of intrigue, “but i know i like being the type to lead, not that someone has to be, what’s the right word,” you awkwardly laugh as you're left to fend for yourself as your members laugh at your predicament, “i just like to lead, so whoever is okay with me being in control — not that i’m controlling either!!”
laughter breaks out onto the set, as you're now desperately fumbling to defend yourself, “i don't see myself as controlling! i just like providing comfort to people around me and putting them first, if that makes sense?” the host hums in understanding, “but personality really is what attracts me to someone. being funny, laid back, someone who can understand me well,”
“ah, but it you had to describe them physically?” of course, they'd ask for that type of information as well.
you bit your tongue, wanting to avoid that part knowing how far certain fans would go if they heard those details.
“someone who enjoys working out like me? i think that’s attractive, since we could work out together. but beyond that, sincerely i don't care,”
he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving on. he ends your segment with, “everyone start your fitness journeys to capture [name]’s heart!!”
next was jin, who described someone who would be able to keep up with his eating habits and keep his stomach satisfied. someone who would be a good wife and mother, a very traditional answer that left the host easily satisfied.
jeongguk was next, being brought out from his nervous lip biting to answer properly.
“someone who can lead me…” his voice trails off as he tries to think harder. he closes his eyes in thought, wondering how many more ways he can word it so it is less suspicious, “i mean, the type of person who doesn't mind teaching me new things and being understanding of me. i like learning new things and having someone be understanding of that and my interests, is my ideal type. a person with a good heart, most importantly,”
surprisingly, no one in the room seems to connect the dots as they listen to jeongguk’s heartfelt description.
“what about physical traits?”
“hm,” his eyes unconsciously go to trail onto you, his signature bunny grin breaking out of his calm facade. he quickly averts his eyes to the ceiling to act as if he was thinking, “h/c hair? i think that’s pretty. but not particularly picky on their physicality,” he leaves the host with the bare minimum in his answer, which works in satisfying them as they cheer in glee.
“the maknae is a simple man! just be ready to lead him and he’s all yours!” those in the room laugh at the teasing, but jeongguk’s face does burst into an abrupt heat at how obvious it now sounds. luckily, nobody really catches on and the rest of the show goes on as normal.
after the show airs, though, it’s truly unfortunate for jeongguk how army easily caught on to his insinuations and began going crazy with their shipping of you two. jeongguk was thankful you weren't online as much as he was because from his burner he was seeing all sorts of theories and content about you two that made his face more red than a tomato from how easily they were able to read him.
not that he was the most subtle to begin with…
[2018]
for as long as bts was in the industry at this point, it was no surprise that you had friends that were also in your career. there were many idols, actors, and even talk show hosts that had you in their good graces and vice versa. the ones you were frequently seen with, however, were those that were born in the same year as you, 1994.
after being comfortable enough in the public eye, you and your friends began no longer being so scared of being seen together. especially considering the fanwads your two fandoms were infamous for, you had to be very careful. but now, you were less worried about public opinion and didn't care for rumors as much as you had before.
the three of you at the table were garnering a lot of stares, but you all ignored it.
“so how have promotions been?”
you scoffed, “busy, you already know,” you wink at kai who only shakes his head, “as if we both aren't busy,”
sehun rolls his eyes and puts his chin on palm, “everything is so busy and complicated, i’m surprised your company let you out!!”
“i'm surprised with you guys!” you laugh, pointing at the two of you, “everytime i tried finding a day in the calendar, you both were already busy,”
“promotional time is like that,” kai shrugs, as if he was unaffeceted.
the three of you continue chatting until it got too late. you greeted them goodbye with hugs, hopping into your seperate blacked out vehicles. the moment you opened your social media, it was no surprise to see pictures of you guys at dinner sneakily taken through the window were spreading everywhere like wildfire.
millions of tweets were already sent by your respective fandoms, all sorts of comments about the situation — but overall, positive. some even made you laugh at the absurd language and wording of their reactions.
as you were scrolling though, though, you accidentally refreshed your timeline and saw a familiar face now staring back at you through the screen.
it was a selfie of jeongguk, with the caption, “everyone what are you doing?”
you chuckled, finding the timing as you went to open your messenger to text him. your eyebrow quirked up as you saw that he had actually texted you multiple times while you were out.
when you finally arrived to the dorm building, jeongguk was waiting in the kitchen and scrolling on his phone. when he heard the door open, he shot up out of his seat and came to hug you.
“about time!!” he says in a sing song voice, rocking you both back and forth for a moment before backing away. he takes the plastic bag of leftovers from your hands and drops it off at the table. he's spinning around to beam at you as he goes to hug you once more, breathing in the smell of barbeque from your clothes. the distinct smell mixing with your expensive cologne made his eyes close in bliss, squeezing you tighter.
just as you were going to push him away to properly scold him, the sound of a door opening down the hall interrupted you.
coming out from one of the rooms, yoongi greets you as well. he walks over to reach past jeongguk's frame to ruffle your hair before going to grab a water bottle from the fridge. he wishes you both a goodnight and goes back to hibernation.
“you should be sleeping like hyung is, goo,” you lightly scold, but he just grins at you with a wide smile. he finally releases you and goes through the leftovers with a pleased smile on his face.
“i was waiting to make sure you got home safe,” he excuses himself, “shouldn't you be glad i care so much for your safety?”
“you know the driver would drop me off,” you walk over and flick his forehead, “you need to sleep, we’ve been so busy nowadays, every second of sleep is important for you.”
your arms go to rest on either side of him on the table, forcing him to lean back as you got closer. he doesn't seem intimidated by the close distance, though, remaining unbothered by how you were inches away from his face.
“can't sleep unless you're home,” he pouts, “i worry too much,”
“y’know, i’m the older one, right? it's my job to worry about you and you staying awake doesn't help much. you worrying about me is worrying me about you,”
he laughs at your words, warmth blooming in his chest as you admit your worry for him. but in response to your actual words, just shakes his head and disregards them with ease.
as jeongguk trailed after you when you went to get ready for bed, twitter was having the time of their lives for the fan service sincerely jealous behavior jeongguk provided them with.
what would their reaction be if they found out jeongguk refused to detattch himself from your side, cuddling with you to sleep that night? his arms and legs were wound possessively around you as a content smile graced his lips as he kept you close.
PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Male Choreographer Reader
RATING: 18 and up
WARNING: smoking, mention of stress/anxiety, and panic attack
WORD COUNT: 2,066
The studio smells like sweat, rubber flooring, and stress.
You’ve been pacing near the mirrors for ten minutes now, hand dipping into your pocket out of pure muscle memory— Empty. Again.
Your vape is gone.
Not misplaced, not probably in your bag gone.
Gone-gone.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, dragging a hand through your hair. Rehearsals have been brutal today—timing off, bodies exhausted, Jungkook pushing harder than usual, perfection etched into every sharp count. You can feel the pressure buzzing under your skin, restless and loud.
You don’t usually smoke cigarettes. You don’t like them.
But right now, you need something.
You scan the room and spot one of the backup dancers stretching near the wall. You hesitate—pride, nerves, whatever—but the tension wins.
“Hey,” you say quietly, clearing your throat. “Uh… you wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette, would you?”
They raise a brow, amused, but shrug and pull out a pack. “Yeah. Just one?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” you exhale, relief washing over you as they pass it over.
The smoking area is dimmer, tucked behind the building where the noise dulls and the air feels heavier. You step outside, lean against the wall, cigarette unlit between your fingers.
And then— You see him.
Jeon Jungkook stands a few feet away, hoodie pulled low, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette like it’s second nature. The glow at the tip flares briefly as he inhales, cheeks hollowing slightly, eyes unfocused in that familiar post-rehearsal daze.
Your stomach drops. Of course he’s here.
You’ve choreographed with him for months now—countless hours side by side, hands brushing, eyes meeting in mirrors—but conversations always stay professional. Polite. Safe. And yet, every time, there’s that pull. That quiet awareness you try not to think about.
You freeze. He hasn’t noticed you yet.
Your heart starts pounding harder than the bass from inside the studio. You glance down at the cigarette in your hand, then back up at him. The stupidest thought crosses your mind: You don’t even have a lighter.
You could leave. You should leave.
Instead, your feet move before your brain can catch up. “Um—” Your voice cracks.
Jungkook looks over.
For a split second, surprise flickers across his face. Then recognition. Then something softer, unreadable. “Hey,” he says, low, casual. “You okay?”
You nod too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, just—” You lift the cigarette awkwardly. “Do you, uh… have a lighter?”
Your hands betray you.
They shake. Not violently, but enough that you notice—and worse, enough that he notices.
Jungkook’s gaze drops to your fingers. His brows knit slightly, concern slipping through his usual calm mask. He steps closer without thinking, close enough that you can smell smoke and faint laundry detergent.
“Here,” he says gently, pulling out his lighter.
When he flicks it on, the flame dances between you, warm and steady. You lean in to light your cigarette, but your hands tremble again, and the tip misses the flame.
“Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassment flooding your chest. “I don’t usually—”
“I know,” he interrupts softly.
You glance up, startled. His eyes meet yours. There’s a small smile on his lips—not teasing, not amused. Just… kind. “You vape,” he adds. “I’ve seen.”
Your ears burn. “Yeah. Lost it today.”
“That sucks,” he says, genuinely.
He holds the lighter a little closer this time, steadying it. You manage to light the cigarette, inhale carefully, cough a little, and laugh at yourself.
“Yeah, okay. I still hate these.”
Jungkook chuckles under his breath. “They’re not great.”
Silence settles between you—not awkward this time. Just quiet. Comfortable. The city hums faintly beyond the alley.
After a moment, he speaks again. “You looked really stressed in there,” he says. “I was, too.”
You nod, exhaling smoke slowly. “Yeah. Guess we both needed air.”
His gaze lingers on you, thoughtful.
“Next time,” he says, almost casually, “you can just ask me. You don’t have to be nervous.”
Your heart skips. You swallow, fingers tightening slightly around the cigarette. “Was it that obvious?”
He smiles—small, warm, real. “A little.”
And somehow, standing there beside him, hands still faintly shaking, you don’t feel embarrassed anymore.
Just seen.
A year in, you’ve learned the shape of Jungkook’s habits.
The way he kicks off his shoes without looking. How his backpack always ends up half-unzipped, spilling choreography notes, spare hoodies, tangled wires. The way he hums under his breath when he’s relaxed—soft, absent, safe.
Tonight feels like that kind of night.
No tension. No pressure. Just the two of you moving around the apartment in quiet sync, post-rehearsal exhaustion settling in. Jungkook showers while you stretch on the floor, answering emails, mentally revising counts for tomorrow.
You feel… calm.
That’s why you don’t think twice when your phone buzzes and dies at the same time.
“Shit,” you mumble, tapping the dark screen. You glance toward the bathroom door. “Kook, can I steal your charger?”
“Yeah,” he calls easily over the sound of running water. “In my bag.”
You don’t mean to find it.
That’s the worst part.
Jungkook’s backpack is slung over the chair, half-unzipped like it always is. You’re just looking for his charger—yours died, his phone is closer, routine muscle memory guiding your hands.
Your fingers brush against cardboard.
You freeze.
Slowly, like your body already knows what your brain doesn’t want to accept, you pull it out.
A cigarette pack.
Half full.
Your chest tightens, sharp and sudden, like you forgot how to breathe properly.
When Jungkook comes out of the shower, hair damp, hoodie already tugged on, he stops short when he sees you sitting on the edge of the bed. The pack rests in your hands, unopened, untouched.
But heavy.
“…Hey,” he says carefully.
You look up. You’re not angry. That might be what scares him most.
“You promised,” you say quietly.
The words aren’t sharp. They don’t accuse. They just exist between you.
Jungkook swallows. “I know,” he replies. His voice is low. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?” you ask, soft. “After you finished them?”
He flinches. Just a little.
Silence stretches. The room feels too still, like it’s waiting.
“I didn’t smoke today,” he says quickly, then slower, more honest, “I haven’t in three days.”
You nod. “But you brought them with you.”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I panicked.”
That makes you look at him again.
“About what?”
“About failing,” he admits. “About needing it. About you looking at me like I broke something.”
Your grip tightens around the pack, then loosens. You set it down on the bed between you, like it might bite.
“I don’t need you to be perfect,” you say. Your voice wavers despite your best effort. “I just need you to not lie to me. Even by omission.”
Jungkook steps closer, slow, like approaching a skittish animal.
“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you,” he says. “I was trying to hide it from myself.”
That lands.
You close your eyes briefly, breathing in, grounding yourself the way he taught you.
“I lost my vape again last week,” you admit quietly.
His brows knit together. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I know,” you say. “Because I was embarrassed. Because I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle stress without it.”
Your eyes meet his. “That’s what this feels like,” you continue. “Like you didn’t trust me with the ugly part.”
Jungkook’s shoulders drop. “I’m sorry,” he says, immediately. No excuses. No defensiveness. Just truth. “I should’ve told you the moment I bought them. I didn’t smoke them because… every time I thought about it, I thought about you finding out.”
Your throat tightens. “That’s not quitting,” you say gently. “That’s just delaying.”
He nods. “I know.”
Another beat of silence. Then Jungkook reaches out—not for you, but for the pack. He holds it for a second, staring at it like it’s heavier than it should be.
Then he hands it to you. “I don’t want this to be something between us,” he says. “Not again. If I slip, I want it to be with you knowing. And if I quit—” his voice softens, “—I want it to be because I chose us every day, not because I was scared.”
Your chest aches in that familiar, tender way.
You stand, closing the distance between you. You don’t take the pack. Instead, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your forehead into his chest.
He exhales shakily and holds you like he’s been waiting to breathe.
“I’m not leaving,” you murmur. “I just needed you to be honest.”
“I promise,” he says immediately, voice thick. “No more hiding. If I struggle, you’ll know. And if I quit—” he presses a kiss into your hair, “—I’ll quit out loud.”
You nod, squeezing him tighter.
Later, the pack ends up in the trash. Not dramatically. Not ceremoniously. Just… gone.
And when Jungkook curls around you in bed, fingers tracing slow patterns into your arm, he whispers—
“Thank you for staying soft with me.”
You turn, kiss him once, slow and sure.
“Always,” you say. “Just don’t make me find surprises in your backpack again.”
He laughs quietly, relief threaded through it.
“Deal.”
And this time, the promise feels real.
Another year later, things are… different.
Better. Softer. Real.
You don’t meet Jungkook in the smoking area anymore—because there isn’t one for the two of you now. The spot behind the building is just concrete and quiet air, stripped of old habits.
Jungkook quit smoking six months ago.
Not all at once. Not easily. You remember the nights he’d pace your apartment balcony, jaw tight, fingers restless, breathing through it while you sat nearby, grounding him with touch instead of lectures. He never asked you to quit vaping—but you cut back anyway, instinctively, like your bodies had learned how to move toward the same rhythm.
Tonight, rehearsal runs late again.
Some things never change.
You’re packing up your bag when that familiar itch crawls up your spine. Muscle memory kicks in. You reach for your pocket.
Nothing.
You freeze.
“No,” you mutter, checking the other pocket. Your bag. The side pouch. The floor. “No, no, no…”
Jungkook looks up from tying his shoes. “What?”
“My vape,” you say, already spiraling. “I had it during break, I swear—”
You feel stupid the second the stress spikes. It’s not a big deal. You know that. But your body doesn’t. A long day, tight deadlines, the pressure of leading choreography for his upcoming stage—it all stacks until it’s buzzing under your skin.
Jungkook stands, immediately alert.
“Hey,” he says gently, crossing the room. “It’s okay.”
You huff out a breath. “I know. I just—damn it. I really wanted one right now.”
For a split second, you worry. Old habits. Old ghosts.
Instead, Jungkook reaches for your hands.
They’re shaking.
He rubs slow circles into your knuckles, grounding, familiar. “Come outside with me.”
The night air is cool, clean. No smoke. No haze. Just the city breathing around you. You lean against the wall, frustrated, jaw tight.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I don’t want to trigger anything for you.”
Jungkook snorts softly. “You’re not my trigger.”
He steps closer, foreheads almost touching. “Stress is.”
That makes your chest ache—in a good way.
“You know,” he continues, quieter now, “a year ago, if you’d lost your vape, I would’ve offered you a cigarette.”
You laugh under your breath. “And I would’ve hated it.”
“And my lighter,” he adds, smiling faintly. “Your hands were shaking so bad.”
You groan. “Please don’t remind me.”
But his thumb lifts your chin gently, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“I liked that,” he says. “Not the shaking. The fact that you still asked. Even when you were embarrassed.”
You swallow.
“I quit because I didn’t want you worrying about me,” he admits. “And because… I didn’t want the thing we shared to be smoke.”
Your throat tightens.
“So what do we do now?” you ask quietly. “No vape. No cigarettes.”
Jungkook leans in, brushing a kiss against your temple. Soft. Unrushed.
“We breathe,” he says. “We go home. I make tea. You complain about choreography counts. I listen.”
You exhale slow, deep.
Your hands are steady. “Yeah,” you say. “That sounds better.”
As you walk back inside together, fingers laced, you realize something
A/N: This is very self indulgent for me. I like a man who eats well.
🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜
“I like the way you eat.”
He nearly choked on the ramen you made him.
“Suddenly?”
“Yeah. It’s cute.”
He leans his head down and gives a shy smile.
“How?”
You shrug.
“I don’t know. You take these like big, small bites that make your cheeks look bigger. Your little stupid earrings jingle along with your jaw. You get concentrated like you’re thinking hard.”
None of this sounds like a compliment to him.
“It’s cute. Your lips get small and pouty like a doll. They get this glossy pinkish plump. Kinda looks like a bunny’s tongue.”
He feels himself getting embarrassed.
“You look like you enjoy every bite you take. You look like you eat well and I like it.”
mostly sfw, fully self indulgent and fully my own opinion. If you disagree just be nice about it :)
Warnings: I didnt mean to yap so much about yoongi in bed, apologies. Tw for hitting in a sexual manner and biting in a non sexual manner. and content warning for yoongi being a weird little freak but I love him. I wouldn't say theres smut but its definitely 18+ and nsfw.
He prefers being the little spoon weather hes taller or shorter than you. He just really loves how your body heat makes him warm.
Blanket stealer. You go to sleep cuddling all nicely and wake up with an inch of bed to yourself and 1cm of the blanket while hes wrapped up all warm and starfishing on the bed.
He calls you his husband after dating for 6 days.
Not for weird reasons he just loves it.
He absolutely loves pissing you off. You're cooking? Hes touching your arms, asking questions he knows the answer to. You're working? Hes got his legs over your lap and keeps distracting you by poking you. You trip over something? Hes making fun of you for it.
Hes quite caring though, loves to help you wash your hair, cleaning up your place when you're busy, remembering all your favourite snacks for when his ragebait goes a step too far and actually annoys you.
Whenever he talks to his cat he calls himself dad and calls you father.
He definately has played wonderwall to you once or twice, finding it so funny.
Hes good company, lets you hear his songs before he even thinks about releasing them.
Any song you've given suggestions for he has you credited as 'my man' and the fans think hes calling you his friend. Everytime he clarifies otherwise some people still dont get it.
His favourite one of your features is your shoulders, he loves massaging them, kissing them, biting them. He just loves shoulders.
He definately bites, not in a sexual manor but he just really likes the feeling of your skin between his teeth. Anywhere that has enough fat to move a little is where hes chewing on.
His favourite biting spot is your cheeks, hes always gentle with it though.
He really likes your ass.
Like REALLY likes it.
You could just be standing in line at the store at hes staring at it, brushing your teeth and hes got his hands on it.
Weather hes a top or a bottom he's grabbing it.
Yoongi is definitely a switch. He likes to ruin you and leave you unable to think but he also loves riding you.
His favourite is definitely riding you though, having your hands all over him while he pretends hes putting all the work in despite your hips fucking up into his.
He loves pissing you off in the bedroom because it means you'll pull his hair, wrap your fingers around his throat or even better yet: hit him.
Hes a pussy about pain, a pinch makes him wince but he really enjoys being hit in bed. Not too hard but enough for it to sting.
He doesnt just take, he dishes it out too. At first he felt bad laying his hands on you but it ties back to his ass obsession.
It all started with him slapping your ass while you were pounding into him and that night divulged into you fucking him like it was your last night alive because you both got off on him slapping your face.
Afterwards he kissed you all over and apologised like you didnt tell him to do it again.
Hes sweet most of the time though, being sweet and kissing you with so much love as he thrusts slowly. Telling you how good you're doing for him, telling you how much he loves you.
When he fucks you like that he definitely whines.
On a slightly sweeter note he kisses your hips after sex, mumbling something about how strong they are.
Summary: When BTS visits your restaurant during their first trip to America, shy Jungkook falls hard for the charming male chef — despite his broken English and the teasing from the rest of the group.
You wiped your hands on your apron, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors of your modest but busy downtown L.A. restaurant. The dinner rush had just died down, leaving the place bathed in warm lights and buzzing low conversation. That’s when your server, Mia, skidded in from the floor, eyes wide.
“Table six. You’re not gonna believe this,” she whispered, practically bouncing. “It’s them. BTS. The BTS. Like... K-pop royalty level.”
You blinked. “That the group you’re always blasting in the prep room?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes! And Jungkook is even hotter in person.”
With a skeptical laugh, you peeked out from the kitchen doorway. Sure enough, seven young men had just been seated at a corner booth. They were dressed casually, hats and hoodies up, but the playful energy they carried was unmistakable. One of them — the youngest-looking — had wide, curious eyes and kept leaning over the menu like it was a foreign artifact. Which, technically, it probably was.
You didn’t usually make appearances, but something about this moment made you curious. So, you took a deep breath and approached.
“Hi there, welcome to Lila’s,” you said, addressing the table. “I’m the chef-owner. Just wanted to say thanks for coming in.”
The one with dimples and a warm smile — RM, if you remembered right — lit up. “Oh! Thank you for having us. We’re big food fans. Heard great things.”
You smiled. “Anything I can recommend for you guys?”
Jungkook looked up then. He made eye contact — and didn’t break it. His gaze was intense, almost childlike in its curiosity. And then he spoke.
“Hi,” he said, a bit slowly, carefully. “Uh… I… want eat… special food?” He winced slightly, as if unsure of himself. His cheeks were already tinting pink.
RM grinned and jumped in. “He means, uh, he wants a recommendation. Something… special.”
Jungkook nodded quickly. “Yes. Special. What… you make?”
You stifled a grin. “I can make a custom dish, if you like. Spicy? Mild? Meat? Veg?”
Jungkook blinked. Then turned helplessly to RM.
RM translated your options in Korean, and Jungkook listened, then nodded and pointed toward you — directly. “You choose,” he said. “Chef choice.”
The table snickered softly, and the others began whispering to each other in Korean. Jungkook ignored them — or tried to — but his ears were definitely red.
“Alright,” you said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile. “Chef’s choice it is.”
You headed back into the kitchen, heart unexpectedly fluttering. That guy was something. He didn’t say much, but the way he looked at you, like you were the most fascinating part of the room — it was hard to ignore.
Fifteen minutes later, you returned with a custom plate: bulgogi-style short ribs on a bed of garlic butter rice, kimchi slaw, and a soft egg on top — comfort food with flair. You set it down in front of Jungkook.
“Special for you,” you said.
He beamed. “Wow. Looks… good. Very good.” He gave a little thumbs up, then leaned in and inhaled the scent. “Smell… mmm. Thank you… chef.”
RM translated again, and Jungkook listened, then said in Korean, “Tell him I want to marry this food.”
RM choked on his water, laughing. “He says he loves it. Like, a lot.”
You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”
As the meal went on, you caught Jungkook sneaking glances at you from the booth. Each time your eyes met, he looked away — only to peek again seconds later. Once, you raised a brow at him, and he ducked behind his glass with a shy giggle, cheeks now fully pink.
The guys were absolutely living for it. J-Hope nudged him and teased in Korean. Jin wiggled his eyebrows. Even Suga smirked knowingly.
At the end of the night, RM approached the counter while the others were taking group photos near the window.
“Hey,” he said. “Uh, Jungkook wants to say something. But he’s being… shy.”
You looked up to see Jungkook hiding behind Jimin, who was not helping, whispering something with a grin.
“Oh?” you said, smirking. “Should I come over?”
RM laughed. “He said, if you ever… have time, maybe… hang out? He wants to learn better English. And maybe… cooking.”
Your eyes flicked to Jungkook again. He was looking down now, nervously picking at the hem of his hoodie, but he glanced up once — and gave you a hopeful, almost bashful smile.
You grabbed a napkin and scribbled your number on it, then handed it to RM. “Tell him I’m free Mondays.”
RM handed it off, and Jungkook took it like it was the crown jewels, carefully folding it and slipping it into his pocket.
“Bye, chef!” he called as they left, waving enthusiastically. “Thank you! Very, very delicious!”
You waved back, heart full. “Anytime.”
And just like that, your quiet little kitchen suddenly felt like the start of something sweet.
The door closed behind him, duffel bag hitting the floor with a dull thud. Jungkook stood there for a moment, eyes scanning the room like he was still on base, before they finally landed on you.
You crossed the distance first, pulling him into your arms. “Welcome home, soldier.”
He huffed a laugh against your shoulder, voice low and rough. “Feels weird hearing that from you.”
“You’re the one who left me for two years,” you teased, kissing the side of his head. “I get to be dramatic.”
He didn’t argue—just held you tighter, like he’d been starving for touch. After a long moment, he whispered, “I forgot what this felt like.”
“What?” you murmured.
“Being held without… needing to stand at attention.” His words were muffled, but the vulnerability in them made your chest ache.
You leaned back, studying him. He looked broader, sharper—like the army had carved the boyishness right off him. But his eyes, when they met yours, were tired. Hungry. Soft.
“You don’t have to be anything here,” you said, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Not strong, not perfect. Just mine.”
Jungkook swallowed hard, then nodded. “I want that.”
You guided him to the couch, pushing him gently down. He let himself fall back without resistance, legs spread lazily, head tilted up to look at you.
“That’s new,” you teased, smirking. “You used to fight me for control.”
His lips quirked faintly. “I’m tired of fighting. All I want is to… let go.”
You leaned down, kissing him slow, savoring the way his body melted under your weight. “Good boy,” you whispered against his lips.
His breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut. “You don’t know how much I missed that.”
“Oh, I think I do,” you said, sliding your hand up to cradle the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
Jungkook let out a shaky laugh, almost shy. “…Yeah. Please.”
And for the first time in years, he didn’t try to hide how badly he wanted it.
_____________________________________________
After digging through my 107 drafts , I have come to find this one that was made when JK came back . Spring cleaning without the spring ig😃 (Also I have an obsession with “good boy” so don’t judge)
You yoongi husband headcanons were so good! Could you write one for jin aswell?💜
Husband Kim Seokjin! Headcannons
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Gen! Reader
Genre: Fluff, slice of life, husband Kim Seokjin.
Word Count: 409
| Summary: The kind of life people dream of is a life with Kim Seokjin as your husband.
CONY’S note: Thank you for requesting i had a lot of fun with this!! Sorry for posting so late.^^
Masterlist
Husband Jin - Who insists on introducing you as my wife, my husband, my partner at every opportunity just to see your cheeks flush when he says it.
Husband Jin - Who gives you the bigger piece of meat during dinner and claims he’s “just not that hungry” even though you catch him sneaking a second serving later.
Husband Jin - Who sneaks back hugs while you’re brushing your teeth, cooking, or folding laundry because he can’t help himself.
Husband Jin - Who is loud with laughter and loud with love, filling every corner of your home with his presence so you never feel alone.
Husband Jin - Who always makes you laugh in the middle of arguments, not because he doesn’t take you seriously but because he can’t stand to see you upset.
Husband Jin - Who takes a hundred selfies with you in the most ordinary moments—at the grocery store, in the car, at the park—and says it’s for the memories.
Husband Jin - Who always sings about what you’re doing, whether you’re cooking, cleaning, or even just yawning, because he wants to make you smile.
Husband Jin - Who secretly watches your favorite dramas with you just so he can tease you about your reactions but ends up more invested in the story than you are.
Husband Jin - Who tells you every day how beautiful you are, in a tone so casual you almost don’t realize he means it with his whole heart.
Husband Jin - Who cries when he hears you laugh so hard you can’t breathe, because he realizes all over again that you’re his greatest joy.
Husband Jin - Who brushes your hair back gently and kisses your forehead like it’s second nature, as if that one touch is enough to ground him.
Husband Jin - Who puts your comfort above his own, carrying groceries, cooking meals, and making sure you drink water even when he’s tired himself.
Husband Jin - Who whispers I love you every night before bed, whether you’re awake to hear it or not.
Husband Jin - Who believes marriage isn’t about grand gestures but about the daily promise to love you in a thousand little ways.
