── .✦ “Hi, Babe!!” — Hyung Line Reactions
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Maknae Line Reactions : Here!
Pairing : Best Friend!Hyung Line x Reader Genres : Friends to ???, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mild Angst Warnings : Mild Stalking/Unwanted Following, Cursing, Food Mention Word Count : 7.5K
ᯓ★ Synopsis : You separate from the friend group into the crowd with nothing but a casual promise of donuts, but when he notices you missing for way too long, panic rises fast. The moment he hears you say: “Hi, Babe!!” at him—your best friend—with a strange man following closely behind you, all he can think is to protect you first then ask questions later.
In the late afternoon, you had been walking with the boys—your friends, your chaotic bunch of thirteen—at the busy pedestrian festival showered with music, street food, booths lining either side of the road. You and the boys had been weaving between the food stalls and snapping photos for the memories. The air felt warm with the dusk casting orange hues across the sky, and laughter echoing in the background.
You had wandered off for just a second to chase after a pop-up donut truck you had spotted. Just for a moment. You briefly mentioned it to the group, so they were aware. It was just for a moment. A dumb decision, maybe, but the boys had been walking slow, and you were sure that you could find them again after. They are quite the loud bunch.
But except now, you’re alone.
The crowd has thickened.
Thus, currently you stood still for a moment, a paper bag of mini donuts in hand, scanning left and right. No familiar faces. No familiar laughter. No shouts of: “Y/N-yah, where’d you go?!” Their phone buzzes with a group message—someone had sent a meme. You reply with a quick: “Coming back rn lol,” but the reception is... well, in simple terms, shitty.
That’s when it happens.
A voice behind you.
Close.
A bit too close.
“Hey, you lost or something?”
You flinch—slightly—but smile politely as you turn. Your first instinct is to assume it’s nothing.
The man is maybe mid-thirties, dressed casually, with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something about his posture… too relaxed, like he’s been watching you longer than just now. You don’t want to assume the worst possible situation, but something about this man stood before you.. doesn’t feel right.
You shift your weight, trying to angle away without being obvious. Maybe, it’s because you’ve been hanging out with the boys over and over who have been nothing but gentlemen with a sprinkle of chaos in-between. But perhaps that’s why you don’t feel comfortable with this man..?
It seems as though he’s just trying to help.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things..
“You okay there?” he asks again, stepping into your space a little too confidently. “You look like you could use some company.”
Nevermind.
Your fingers curl tighter around the paper bag. Shit, leaving the group for these donuts wasn’t the best idea.. probably should’ve taken at least one of them with you. You try to keep your voice light as you muster up a reply.
“No, I’m good. I’m meeting someone.”
“Really?” His gaze dips briefly—too briefly—to the donut bag that you have clenched in your hold, then back to your eyes. “Didn’t see you with anyone.”
Fuck.
Your smile drops slightly. That tone…
Not friendly.
Not curious.
Just challenging.
Testing.
You take a step back. He matches it forward.
Ah, shit.
“You sure? I’m just saying.. a pretty one like you, out here all alone? Dangerous world.”
The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. It felt uncomfortable, it felt invasive, it felt suffocating.
“How about you come with me?”
That’s when your stomach flips. The wrong kind of fear starts to bloom… slow, creeping, sour. You glances past him… there’s people everywhere, but no familiar faces. No tall frame of Mingyu towering over the crowd, no bright blonde hair of Seungkwan bouncing above heads, no quiet presence of Wonwoo anchoring you. Just strangers. Everyone busy with their own moments.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You fake a laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, scanning again. Then suddenly, you see it. You see something in the distance—someone familiar. At least, you hope. You hope to everything that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t try to doubt it for a second before you start speed walking.
The guy follows.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, sweetheart. C’mon, you’re being a little rude now, don’t you think?”
Nope.
Nope, no thank you. This isn’t just creepy. This is wrong. Your heart is racing faster now, breath hitching, and still, you don’t want to cause a scene. Doesn’t want to draw attention. Doesn’t want to be that person.
And then—you see him. One of the boys. One of your boys. Just a few feet ahead. His back turned.
Relief punches through your chest like a gasp of air after being underwater. Thank goodness, your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t think, don’t plan. You only had one thing on your mind:
Help.
You just walk faster, almost running now, weaving through people.
The creepy guy keeps following, still muttering something—something about you being stuck-up, something about just being nice.
And then you finally reach your best friend. Your lifeline. Your other half. You quickly rush up, and in the most sugar-coated voice you can muster:
“Hi, babe!!”
You say like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’ve been dating for years. Like nothing is wrong.
But your whole body is tense. Your smile is trembling.
Now it’s up to him.
⭑.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups)
He had just finished purchasing everyone’s drink orders with his money—forcibly chosen against his will by the likings of Jeonghan—balancing a tray of lemonades and sodas like a pro. He weaved through the crowd with ease to return back to his group of two Americans, one tiger, one Italian, one dinosaur, eight Koreans, and one gremlin.
Wait.
Where’s the gremlin—where are you?
He paused mid-step, scanning the people around him.
The boys were still nearby, too, but Seungcheol had a habit. A compulsion, really. He always knew where everyone was.
Especially you.
So when he glanced up and didn’t immediately see you, his body tensed before his brain could even process it. He took a small breath to soothe himself at a bit. The group had been teasing you earlier for wanting to get donuts, Seungcheol frowned. Maybe you weren’t far. Probably just a few booths away, getting a snack to bite.
But his gut didn’t like not seeing you. Not hearing you. Not knowing exactly where you are.
He placed the tray down on a nearby lifted-up cement rim around a tree. The boys can wait longer for the drinks, after all, they did make him pay. He went to each for his phone in his pocket to text you, asking where you were.
He turned, scanning the crowd once more, slowly. And then—
There.
You.
Weaving through the crowd. A few meters away. Moving fast. Dodging between people.
Something in your eyes made his chest clench.
You were smiling—too big. Not your usual soft, gummy grin. It was the fake kind. The kind you used when you were trying to stay unnoticed. The kind you wore when you were nervous.
Behind them, about a pace and a half too close, was a man.
Older. Following. Staring at you.
Too close.
Way too close.
Seungcheol’s pulse flicked once—not in panic, but in that quiet, dangerous way. Like a trigger pulled inside his chest.
He’s tailing you.
And you look scared—petrified even.
He locked eyes with you. The moment you saw him, your whole body dropped into something vulnerable. Safe. He could see it.. the mask starting to crack.
And before he could even call your name, you were at his side, breath just a little uneven, hand clinging tight to his arm like a lifeline as you said:
“Hi babe!!”
It was so unlike you—so forced—that it physically hurt him to hear. But he didn’t let it show.
He dropped his voice low, warm but lined with steel.
“There you are.”
He shifted, wrapping the other around your shoulders immediately, tucking you close to his side. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need context. He felt the tremble in your fingers. The way you tucked yourself in like you wanted to disappear.
He knew.
Seungcheol’s eyes snapped up and found the man approaching behind you. The guy looked like he was trying to play casual, hands in his pockets, but his smile had that same edge Seungcheol knew too well.. the kind that wasn’t friendly.
He locked eyes with him.
“Can I help you with something?”
His tone was polite. Too polite.
But his expression said: ‘You’re five seconds from a mistake.’
The guy faltered.
Hesitated.
He was clearly caught off guard—like he hadn’t expected someone like Seungcheol to be waiting. Maybe he’d thought you were actually alone. Or that you were bluffing.
The man’s eyes flicked between your arm wrapped tightly around Seungcheol’s, and Seungcheol’s gaze was cold and unwavering.
“No, man, it’s cool,” the guy muttered, suddenly losing the swagger he’d approached with. “Just thought they looked lost—“
Seungcheol didn’t say a word, tilting his head.
He just looked at him.
His stare was sharp, cold. Steady. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He dared the guy to keep talking.
The man’s confidence withered. His face twitched.
That was enough. The guy turned and walked off.
Only when the creep was fully out of sight, swallowed by the crowd, Seungcheol finally exhaled, slowly, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder.
“Hey.” His voice dropped back to normal.. soft. Comforting. “Are you okay?”
You nodded wordlessly against his arm, but he could feel how hard you were breathing. Like you hadn’t dared to breathe before.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, tilting his head so he could see your expression better. “Even just a signal, you know I would’ve come running.”
You gave him a weak little shrug, that familiar silent language you shared. Like you didn’t want to cause a scene. Like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to make noise over something that hadn’t ‘really happened.’ Like you didn’t want to be a bother.
“Hey, look at me.” He ducked slightly, trying to catch your eyes. When you finally did, he said gently, “Next time… don’t even think. Just call. I’ll find you. No matter where you are.”
Still clinging, still trembling slightly, but a little more grounded now. You took in a small inhale before speaking, your voice was soft, breathless:
“Reception’s shit.”
It made his chest tighten.
“Okay. That’s fair.” He gently adjusted you under his arm, like making space for you to breathe again. “Next time, though, screw the reception. Just scream. I’ll hear you. I don’t care how loud. I’ll find you even in a crowd of people.”
You gave him a weak little grin—one of those tired, grateful ones that barely reached your eyes but said more than words could.
“Here. Still cold.” He gave your shoulder one last squeeze and held out a lemonade from the tray, “And I promise I didn’t drink from it. Yet.”
That got a tiny smile. A shaky one…
But a real one.
‘I never want them to go through that again,’ he thought, ‘I nearly lost my mind.’
But he didn’t say it out loud.
He just pulled you close and started walking to the group with a tray of lemonades and sodas.
⭑.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan
The boys were huddled near a fried skewer cart, arguing over whether the spicy squid one was actually spicy, or if Seungkwan was just being dramatic again.
Jeonghan wasn’t really listening. His eyes were on the crowd.
Or more specifically—
The space where you should’ve been.
You’d been with them twenty minutes ago. Trailing beside him. Nudging him every time you saw a cat-shaped pin. Tugging his sleeve to ask if you should buy boba again even though you were still holding the last one.
Now?
Gone.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked suddenly to the person next to him, eyes scanning the crowd.
Jun shrugged without thinking, watching as the debate unfolded between the group. A normal occurrence.
“Didn’t they say they were going to get donuts?”
Jeonghan blinked.
That had been a while ago.
And you hadn’t come bouncing back with your usual ‘Look, I brought snacks!!’ victory speech.
“I’m gonna go find them.”
“Want me to come—“
Jun’s words had fallen deaf to Jeonghan’s ears as he was already out of range. He already peeled away from the group and slipping into the crowd like a ghost.
It wasn’t panic—not yet.
You were clever.
Careful.
But Jeonghan had always had this sixth sense for when something wasn’t sitting right.
And right now, something in his chest was beginning to buzz.
The crowd was thick. Music thumped in the distance. Laughter echoed from somewhere behind him. His eyes flicked across faces, ponytails, hats, and strangers. Looking for you… any sign of you.
Come on, where’d you wander off to..
Then—
“Hi, babe!!”
The words sliced through the noise. High. Syrupy. Off.
Jeonghan’s head turned immediately.
He didn’t just hear it—he registered it. The tone. The pitch.
That wasn’t your voice.
Not the real one, anyway.
His spine straightened. He caught sight of you a second later. He turned—fast—just in time for you to latch onto his arm like you were auditioning for a cheesy romcom finale.
You were smiling, but Jeonghan knew every version of your smile. The soft ones, the flustered ones, the ones you gave when you were mad but pretending not to be.
This one?
This one was entirely different.
There was something stiff in your shoulders. Forced. Your fingers gripped tighter than they should have.
And right behind you.
A man.
Mid-thirties. Too close. Too casual.
Looking like he owned your space.
Jeonghan blinked once.
And then—
“Ahh, my baby’s back,” he whined smoothly, turning to face you fully, already slipping into the role like it was second nature. He dropped into a dramatic tone as he pulled you into his arms like it was the world’s most absurd romcom. “There you are. I was just about to go looking for you.”
His hand pressed gently against the back of your head. His chin rested lightly on your crown. He dropped a kiss on the top of your head with zero hesitation. “You had me worried. What took you so long, hmm?”
He kept smiling. His voice, sweet as syrup.
But his eyes—
Stayed open.
Locked onto the man.
Still smiling, Jeonghan tilted his head slightly.
“Do you mind?” he asked, the edge in his voice razor-thin. “Or is there something wrong?”
His tone.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t angry.
It was just… dead calm.
The man hesitated. Eyes flicked between you two.
“…Nah,” he said finally, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t realize they were with someone.”
Jeonghan’s smile stayed polite—too polite. The kind that made people uneasy.
“Do you realize it now?”
A pause.
The man gave a short chuckle and backed off, muttering something under his breath—probably a lame excuse or a half-assed apology—before disappearing into the crowd.
Quickly.
Jeonghan didn’t move until the guy was swallowed by the crowd.
He stayed exactly as he was with arms looped around you, chin still resting on your head, like the scene had never ended.
Only when he was sure you two were alone did he let out a breath through his nose. Jeonghan felt the tension start to ease beneath his arm. Your grip on his sleeve loosened—just slightly.
“You really gotta stop looking so dateable,” he murmured, voice dipping into something much softer now. He eyed the small donut bag in your hand, “It’s dangerous out here for cute ones with donut addictions.”
You gave a quiet, breathy sound—halfway between a laugh and a sigh. He leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with one finger.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing down at you now, voice lower, realer.
You gave a small nod.
“Reception’s shit,” you murmured, barely audible over the noise. “Tried texting earlier, but nothing. Figured calling wouldn’t work either.”
Jeonghan clicked his tongue.
“Tch. We really need to get you a flare gun or something. Or—no. Better yet, one of those giant inflatable waving guys. So I know where to find you.”
That earned him the smallest huff of a laugh. You still looked shaken, but your shoulders had lowered a little.
“Good instinct, though,” he teased. “‘Babe’? Bold choice. I almost blushed.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
He grinned.
“Come on, babe,” he said just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, tugging you closer to him. “Let’s go tell Ddaddu-ya that you wandered off again so I can pretend to be mad while he actually yells.”
And as they walked, Jeonghan threw one last look over his shoulder.
Nothing, he noted.
Good.
He made sure to stay close by you the next time you guys had went out in a public crowded area, not daring to have you alone even if you went to get a brief snack.
⭑.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)
The street festival was loud.
Not overwhelming—just busy. Music from two directions, kids with balloon swords, a bubble machine fogging the sidewalk with glittering mist. The kind of summer chaos that would normally make Joshua tuck his hands into his pockets and quietly observe.
But now?
He was frowning.
Subtly. Barely. Just a crease between his brows.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked over his shoulder as the others debated tteokbokki vs corndogs again.
“Don’t worry,” Seungkwan replied with a wave. “They said they were just getting a snack.”
Joshua didn’t answer.
His eyes scanned the crowd. Left. Right. His hand tightened around the sleeve of his jacket. His eyebrows furrowed, finding no sight of you around.
You had been gone too long.
He felt around in his pocket in search for his phone, fingers briefly touching the cold metal. He carefully pulled it out of his pocket, turning it on to check his notifications. Yet there was nothing. Though, he has a habit of not checking his messages—this was a more dire situation. He did a double check and unlocked his phone to check his contacts with you. Nothing. No text. No missed call.
He frowned more.
You said: ‘Just a snack, it’ll take two or three minutes.’
That had been nearly ten minutes ago.
You were a lot of things, but being this careless with time wasn’t one of them. And if you were gone for this long, you would at least say something. Not unless something was wrong.
The festival was packed. Music, laughter, the hum of fans and food carts. Bright colors and chattering families. But something buzzed uneasily at the back of his mind. The longer you stayed gone, the louder it got.
“I’m gonna go check on them,” Joshua said quietly to Jun, who was sipping on a mango smoothie nearby.
“Huh? Oh—didn’t Jeonghan-hyung say they were getting donuts?”
“Yeah,” Joshua said, already walking away.
He turned from the group, quietly slipping toward the edge of the crowd. He moved through the crowd calmly, not running—not yet—but scanning faces, cutting diagonally across toward the alley of snack booths you’d disappeared into earlier. His fingers twitched at his sides, every sense alert. Eyes moving constantly. Watching. Searching for—
“Hi, babe!!”
He stopped cold.
His heart jumped.
He froze.
That voice.
The tone was off. too loud, too sweet, sugar-panic coated in panic. Too high. Too cheerful. It hit his ears like a sour note.
Joshua’s gaze darted toward the voice—
And landed on…
You.
Moving fast, weaving through a cluster of strangers, your expression all wrong. Your smile was pasted on like a sticker. Bright. Wide. Fake.
Joshua’s smile flickered. Just for a second.
His eyes tracked past you.
And trailing behind you—
A man.
Older. Unfamiliar. Close. Too close.
Wearing that expression—the one that made Joshua’s stomach twist.
Joshua didn’t think. He just moved.
His body language didn’t change—still calm, still collected—but he stepped into your path without hesitation. He saw as the relief flooded your eyes as you closed the distance fast, reaching for his hand.
Joshua didn’t hesitate.
“Hey, love,” he said gently, voice warm as summer sun. He took your hand instantly, fingers weaving through yours, and opening his arms just wide enough for you to slip in.
You didn’t hesitate.
You clung to his side like he was home.
“There you are,” Joshua continued. His voice seemingly stabilzing you, he noted as he felt you briefly relax.
“I was looking for you,” he added, brushing a strand of hair from your face like he hadn’t just noticed the way your hands were shaking.
He shifted your body at an angle, away from the man. A way to step firmly between you and the stranger.
Shielding you.
Grounding you.
His smile stayed soft.
His voice didn’t raise.
But something in him locked into place.
Then he turned his head slightly.
And locked eyes with the man who was caught off guard.
“Everything alright?” Joshua asked, voice quiet. It was polite, but perhaps.. a bit too polite.
His voice was just.. light. Kind. Courteous.
But under that soft tone was something cold.
Something sharp.
And the guy must’ve felt it.
The man blinked. Looked from you to Joshua. His expression shifted—something smug fading into irritation. “Oh, I didn’t realize they were with someone.”
Joshua smiled.
Beautifully.
“They are.”
Still soft. Still calm.
But something in his voice flattened—like ice freezing over a surface that used to be warm.
He didn’t break eye contact.
The man hesitated. Seemed to calculate something. Then gave a half-hearted shrug and disappeared into the flow of the crowd.
Joshua didn’t watch him go.
He immediately turned his full attention back to you. Still holding you gently. Still soft. You hadn’t let go of his hand. Your grip was tight, fingers trembling just a little.
“You okay?” he asked, softly.
You nodded. “Tried texting. No signal.”
“I figured, good try anyway,” he said, brushing your hair. He squeezed your hand gently, reassuringly. “You had me worried for a second.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, you have nothing to apologize for, okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, you came right on time, thankfully.”
And just like that, his smile returned—real this time.
He brushed a thumb over your knuckles. “You’re getting pretty good at improv. ‘Babe,’ huh?”
“Desperate times,” you gave a breathless laugh.
He chuckled under his breath and leaned down a little closer.
“Well, if you’re going to call me that, you’re legally required to give me a donut now.”
And when you gave a tiny eye roll and bumped your head against his shoulder, he knew you were okay.
“But don’t make this a habit,” he whispered. “I’m possessive.”
That earned the another tiniest eye-roll from you. He was glad, it was easing you up. He exhaled quietly and gave you one last glance over.
Then—
“Come on,” Joshua said. “Let’s get back to the others before Vernon decides you got abducted by a boba vendor.”
As they walked, his hand never left your back.
And his eyes?
They flicked once—just once—over his shoulder.
Checking.
Making sure the man didn’t try anything else.
Because Joshua could be patient. And sweet. And endlessly kind.
But if anyone try to lay a hand on you?
He would be ready. They’d find out just how sharp a smile like his could get. And this time, the gloves would come off.
⭑.ᐟ Wen Junhui (Jun)
It was loud, sticky, and chaotic.
Vendors yelling over music, the scent of grilled squid wafting through the summer air, and someone—probably Seungkwan—shrieking about losing rock-paper-scissors and having to pay for everyone’s drinks. Again.
Jun was happily nursing his skewer of candied sweet potato, leaning against a wall in the shade, watching chaos unfold like theater.
You were beside him just a moment ago. Laughing behind your hand, doing a dumb little dance after stealing one of Dino’s egg breads and sprinting away like you robbed a bank.
He’d tossed a grape at your head and missed on purpose. You snorted.
Everything had been light.
“Bro, how many dumplings can you eat before you die?” Vernon asked nearby, holding two trays like it was his last supper.
Jun answered immediately, “Six. And then resurrection.”
Joshua chuckled. Hoshi declared, “Ten if you inhale. No chewing.”
“Y/N, how many for you?” Jun turned his head, still smiling.
No answer.
He blinked.
Looked beside him.
Nothing.
Just the shifting crowd. The echo of the music. No figure of someone stealing a snack from another member. No sound of your laughter.
Nothing.
He scanned again.
No Y/N.
Huh.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked casually, assuming you were crouched behind someone.
“Didn’t they say they were gonna get donuts?” Jeonghan replied, eating a grape that he had stolen from Joshua.
Ah.
That’s right..
Jun nodded slowly. “They did.”
He waited.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then a minute.
His brows furrowed just slightly. No big deal. You were independent. But still—
You usually would text or call him if it was taking longer or something.
He pulled out his phone, texting the group chat that you and the members were in, asking where you had gone. No response. He shifted in his seat, impatiently. Then he clicked on your name. No response.
Another thirty seconds.
Something subtle in his chest coiled.
You were never gone this long, especially if you had just gone for donuts—the line wasn’t long either, the last time he passed by it. But you wouldn’t be gone without texting or calling, complaining it was taking forever if it was truly taking you this long.
Jun’s instincts started whispering.
Something’s wrong.
Then after a pause: “I’m gonna go check on them.”
“Do you want me to come with?” Joshua asked, as he lightly smacked Jeonghan’s hand away from his grapes. Jun shook his head, standing up. Before he walked off, he heard Joshua say: “Text the group chat when you find them.”
But he was already walking, even before he realized it. Quietly weaving through the crowd, still holding his half-eaten dumpling. Eyes scanning. Steps calm.
But his mind wasn’t.
He was slipping through the crowd, halfway toward the snack booth street when he heard it.
Your voice.
“Hi, babe!!”
Jun froze mid-step.
His head snapped toward the sound.
There you were.
Y/N…
Walking quickly toward him, posture too stiff, smile way too bright to be real. Your voice laced with sugar and sirens.
Jun’s eyes narrowed instantly.
You never called anyone ‘babe.’ Not even jokingly.
Not unless something was wrong.
And then he saw the man.
Older.
Taller.
A stranger.
His stance too confident. Too casual for comfort. His smile too familiar.
Jun’s heartbeat didn’t even change.
But his expression dropped into ice.
In a blink, he moved.
Three fast strides, then he was at your side.
“Hi babe,” you said again, breathless this time. Your hand immediately curled around his arm, latching on.
He didn’t hesitate.
Jun smiled.
It was a pretty smile. Gentle. Relaxed.
He looked down at you with lazy affection, like you’d just gifted him flowers in front of a camera crew.
“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, voice coated in silk and warning. He pulled you close, his arm circling your waist like it belonged there.
Then his head turned toward the man.
His smile vanished.
Gone just like that.
Jun stared him down with zero emotion in his face.
Like he was made of stone.
His Mandarin accent thickened just slightly, slipping through the corners of his words like sharpened glass:
“Can I help you?”
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t flinch.
Just let the silence stretch.
The man faltered.
Didn’t answer.
Just backed off.
Good choice.
Jun didn’t say another word.
He turned his full body toward you, guiding you with the pressure of his hand, and walked away like the guy didn’t exist. Only when you were both several steps into the crowd again did he glance down at you.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, brows still furrowed.
“I was getting donuts before the man approached me and wouldn’t leave me alone..”
He exhaled. “You okay?”
You nodded, letting out a heavy breath. Still gripping his sleeve.
A beat passed.
Jun softened.
“You’re not hurt?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Jun tugged your hand up and pressed a kiss to your knuckles like it was a casual habit. “You scared me,” he said plainly.
“You scared him,” you muttered, and Jun smiled faintly again.
“Good.”
He gave you a look. Then with a hum, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the last chunk of the dumpling.
“Open,” he said, holding it up to you like a peace offering.
You blinked, then opened your mouth and he popped it in with a quiet: “There you go.”
A beat.
He nudged your shoulder gently, as if nothing happened. Then, with the softest lilt of his voice, “You owe me a donut, you know. You abandoned me. That’s emotional damage. I almost died of heartbreak.”
“You, mhmm, almost died?” you had managed to say, muffled by food.
“Absolutely. You abandoned me. Tragic.”
You laughed—finally. The tension eased out of your shoulders just a little.
He smiled.
He took his jacket, wrapping around your shoulders without a second thought. With a final glance at where the man disappeared, he led you back toward the others—
Arm still firmly around you.
He made sure to stay close by your side for the rest of the day, whether you realized it or not.
⭑.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)
It all started with a banana.
Specifically, a banana he’d won at the one of those festival games five minutes ago.
It sat tucked under one arm like a small child while Hoshi danced a little victory jig in front of the others. Dokyeom cheered like it was the Olympics. Seungkwan said he looked like a child who’d just been told Santa was real. Mingyu tried to steal it and almost got bitten. Jeonghan told him he looked like a toddler. And you—you had snorted so hard you wheezed.
He beamed.
He’d paraded it through the street like a newborn.
“This is my child,” he declared proudly.
Dokyeom nodded solemnly. “I’ll be the godfather.”
Mingyu tried to kidnap it. “Let me hold him.”
“No! You drop things!”
It was a perfect day.
Somewhere between the snack stalls and the photo booth, you had wandered off, mumbling something to Joshua about donuts and disappearing into the crowd.
No one thought much of it at first.
It wasn’t unusual. You did that sometimes, floating between members like a soft breeze. They were used to spotting you again by the bounce of your steps or the faint sound of your humming one of their songs.
Until—
“Hey. Where’s Y/N?”
The question came from Wonwoo, calm but sharp.
Seungkwan blinked. “Didn’t they go get donuts?”
Hoshi glanced up, mid-bite of his fish cake. The group had decided to gather around a fishcake stall—figuring it was a good place to eat and wait for you to buy your donuts. He watched as Dokyeom pulled out his phone, checking it, “They didn’t text…”
Joshua was already looking around. “They left like… ten minutes ago.”
Ten minutes.
Too long.
Hoshi stopped smiling.
His eyes immediately scanned the surrounding booths. There were way too many people. Too much noise. But it didn’t matter to him—what mattered was finding you.
But nothing.
No bobbing, happy figure. No familiar figure with a bag of donuts in hand.
Just nothing.
He was holding his breath.
“Hey,” Seungkwan said, tone quiet now. “They’re not answering their phone.”
And just like that, Hoshi wasn’t holding a banana plush anymore.
“Soonyoung—“
He broke off from the group without another word, weaving through the street like a cat with a mission. Booths blurred past, voices too loud, people too close—
Hoshi’s brain flipped into overdrive.
He spun around, mind already racing. You were good at slipping off quietly, sure, but you would always pick up your phone. You knew how much the members would yell at you for not answering, especially at a crowded, public space like this—
He was holding his breath.
And then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
A voice.
It wasn’t just any voice.
It was your voice.
He turned so fast, zeroed in on the voice—
And there you were.
Hoshi let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t even realize he had been holding. He felt the tension in his shoulders relax, seeing you. You were rushing forward to greet him, waving at him. Then his eyes drifted off.. behind you.
Some guy.
Older.
Close.
Way too close.
Looking at you with the kind of expression that made Hoshi’s jaw clench.
And just like that—
He didn’t even think.
Hoshi walked straight over, expression unreadable.
“Aigoo, there’s my jagiya!” he blurted out, loud and singsong. His voice was just the right kind of bright—it made a few heads turn, but most importantly, it gave you an out.
His arm slung around your shoulder like you’d been dating for years.
“Hey,” he whispered quickly against your ear, soft under the noise. “Do I need to call the others?”
You shook your head.
He dropped a kiss on top of your head as if it was the most natural thing in the world. At the same time, his gaze snapped to the guy. Hoshi pulled you subtly behind him.
Now you were out of the guy’s reach.
He was in the way.
“Everything alright here?” Hoshi asked brightly. His smile stretched ear to ear—but his eyes?
Pure warning.
The stranger faltered. “I—uh—was just—”
Hoshi tilted his head.
“Oh, cool,” he said cheerfully, still smiling, despite the fact that the guy didn’t even finish his sentence or form a proper one.
“You can leave now, man,” Hoshi added, all warmth gone from his voice.
Still polite. But firm. Eyes steady. Voice low.
The man faltered, caught off guard.
“Didn’t realize they were—yeah, okay, whatever,” the guy mumbled, backing off with an awkward hand raise.
Gone.
Hoshi waited a beat. Then one more. Just to be sure.
The moment he was gone, Hoshi’s arm dropped slightly—but his hand found yours and held it.
“Hey,” he murmured, suddenly very quiet. “You okay?”
You gave him a nod.
“You sure?” he pressed, voice gentler than before. “Really really sure?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him, bumping your head against his arm with a little huff. He grinned again, this time genuine.
You didn’t say any words—but this?
This was enough for him.
His whole body exhaled.
“Good. You’re safe now.”
Then a pause.
With perfect timing, Hoshi then continued:
“AND YAHHH—don’t ever vanish mid-fishcake again?? I was gonna give you the last bite but nooo, you had to go flirting with creeps.”
You smacked his arm with a dramatic gasp.
“HEY! You started the ‘babe’ thing first!” he said, laughing now, spinning you in a little circle. “I was just being a good fake boyfriend! I was a super convincing boyfriend, right?”
“Sure,” you muttered jokingly, dragging out the ‘e’. “You kissed my forehead.”
“Yah, you’re lucky I didn’t propose.”
“I would’ve seriously just left you then and there.”
“Romance is dead,” he muttered, mock-pouting.
He tugged you gently. “Now c’mon, banana plushie and I were getting lonely.”
As he safely brought you back to the group, he didn’t drop his arm from your shoulders. Not even once.
Not even when Seungkwan shouted, “YAH! Did you guys actually start dating or I need to know before you block both of you for not telling me?!”
But the next time, you walked through a crowd or public, Hoshi didn’t let go of your hand—making sure to stay by your side at all times.
Not leaving.
Not even once.
⭑.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo
The sun sat warm against the summer air, casting golden light over the cobbled market streets. The kind of light that made everything feel easier—soft, alive.
“Hold still,” Vernon said, aiming his phone at Mingyu, who was flexing dramatically next to the takoyaki stand.
Dokyeom cackled behind them, shaking a drink can like a maraca. “Okay but look at Jun—he’s still salty from the photo booth.”
Jun scoffed, arms crossed. “I blinked once and you used that picture as your lock screen. I demand justice.”
“Live with it, I looked like trauma,” Seungkwan muttered blankly as prior at the photobooth Hoshi, somehow, had convinced Seungkwan to wear matching novelty sunglasses shaped like chili peppers.
“I looked hot. Literally.” Hoshi, added mid-pose with his banana plush, struck a heroic stance. “But I’m winning this entire day.”
“Because you kidnapped a plushie?” Woozi said dryly.
“Kidnapped? I rightfully earned this, excuse you,” Hoshi dramatically gasped, clutching his heart as if he’s been offended. “I’m a father now.”
The group laughed, falling into their usual chaos—loud, teasing, playful.
But in the middle of it all… Wonwoo blinked.
He turned slightly, subtle—not even fully realizing why at first. Just a small twist of instinct.
Something was missing.
You.
He hadn’t heard your voice in a while. Not your usual quiet giggle or the way you softly repeated jokes to yourself two beats after everyone else. No bounce in your steps, no faint tug on someone’s sleeve.
His gaze scanned the group.
No sign of you.
Then he remembered—you’d said something earlier. A casual comment to Woozi, just before slipping away:
“Be right back. Gonna grab donuts.”
That had been… maybe ten minutes ago.
Not long, technically. But enough.
A prickle of unease unfurled in his chest.
His posture subtly shifted.
Wonwoo was never the first to panic—never the loudest, never the one to call attention. But he’d spent enough time watching people to recognize when something didn’t feel right.
And the air was different now.
“Are you going to go look for Y/N?”
Wonwoo blinked in surprise—not expecting the sudden voice, he glanced over to his right to see Jeonghan staring up at him. Wonwoo could only assume he had noticed Wonwoo looking around, in search of you.
“..Yeah.”
“You can go ahead. I’m getting concerned too. They haven’t answered our texts. I’ll let the group know you left, text me if you find them.”
Wonwoo nodded, stepping away from the group without saying much, moving like a shadow through the crowd.
It didn’t take long.
Down a quieter alley between booths—that’s where he saw a familiar figure.
You.
Stiff. Uncomfortable. Your hands at your sides, sleeves twisted in your fingers, walking away. And tailing behind you—
A man.
Smiling too much. Too close in your personal bubble. Talking in a way that your shoulders tense. His voice wasn’t loud enough to hear, but Wonwoo didn’t need to.
Your smile was the wrong kind.
Tight.
Awkward.
Defensive.
You looked up just then, eyes scanning the crowd, like a silent call for rescue and locked with his.
“Hi, babe!!”
Wonwoo didn’t flinch.
He didn’t break eye contact.
He just walked straight toward you, posture calm, but gaze sharp. Wonwoo stepped between you and the guy behind you, slipping in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“There you are,” he said softly.
Not rushed. Not loud.
But your relief was instant.
His voice was low, calm. No extra affection. No forced pet name in return.
He could tell you didn’t need that—not right now.
You needed was him.
He slipping his arm around your waist—not too tight, just enough that you’d feel it. Feel grounded.
Then he turned.
“Can I help you?” he asked the man.
His voice wasn’t angry. Wasn’t raised. But there was something about it—something low and precise, like a blade pressed flat against a table.
The guy hesitated.
“I was just talking to them,” he mumbled. “Didn’t realize they had a boyfriend.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly.
“You realize now?”
Silence.
The man faltered. Licked his lips. Took one step back.
The air between them turned cold—heavy.
“…Didn’t realize they were taken,” he swore, muttering under his breath, trying for a shrug that looked more like retreat.
Wonwoo didn’t move until he was gone.
Didn’t break any eye contact.
Another beat of silence—long, tense.
Then the man turned and left, fast.
You didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
Not until you two were fully alone.
Then he looked at you.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
You nodded once, and that was enough.
“That guy touched you?”
His voice was still soft—but different now.
Sharper. Quieter. Like the edge of a blade glinting under low light.
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head immediately.
Wonwoo nodded once.
Just once.
They stood there for a moment—quiet, tucked into the soft edge of the alley, shielded from the noise. He didn’t press. Didn’t ask for details. Just waited.
Finally, you let out a slow breath. One hand brushed his coat sleeve in silent thanks.
“Next time,” Wonwoo said gently, “I’ll come with you.”
A pause.
“…Even if it’s for donuts,” he added.
Your laugh was small—but real this time.
His arm stayed firm around your waist as he walked you back to the group of chaos where you rightfully belong—with them.
And Wonwoo made sure not to leave your side for the rest of the day.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)
He didn’t mean to lose track of you.
It wasn’t like you had vanished—you had said it clearly, even tugged gently on his sleeve when the group was getting distracted by a street magician pulling corndogs out of a hat.
“Donuts,” you’d whispered with a smile. “Be right back.”
And Woozi, eyes half on the chaos and half on his phone, had nodded.
“Okay. Text me if you need anything.”
Then he got pulled into Hoshi and Seungkwan’s debate over whether or not Seungkwan could legally be classified as ‘street-famous.’
“People cry when they meet me!
“They cry because you charge them for your autograph—“
“Marketing genius!”
Then a some point, a balloon vendor had exploded a confetti-filled heart right over Joshua’s head. Vernon even muttered: ‘It’s symbolic.’
The next thing Woozi knew, ten minutes had passed.
Then twelve.
Then fifteen.
And his gut twisted.
No message.
No calls.
Nothing.
Just a growing itch in his chest.
It wasn’t like you to be gone that long. Especially without an update text that you got the donuts or were heading back.
He didn’t announce he was leaving—he just moved. Silent. Quick. The group barely noticed as he stepped out of the circle. Truthfully, he probably should’ve at least briefly told one of them that he was stepping out, but he didn’t care.
His brain scanned through worst-case scenarios like files in a drawer.
What is you had gotten lost?
What if you had gotten hurt?
What if you managed to lose your phone?
What jf you had fell down, proceeded to get hurt, and lose your phone in a matter of seconds?
What if—
Then he heard it.
A voice.
High, bright, strained.
“Hi, babe!!”
‘Babe..?’
Woozi’s feet froze mid-step.
He knew your voice. He knew what it sounded like when you were excited, or shy, or sleepy, or teasing.
This?
This was none of those.
This was forced.
And you had never called anyone ‘babe.’
Not even as a joke.
He turned sharply toward the sound.
There you were.
His eyes met yours.
When your eyes saw him, they lit up with unmistakable relief. Your eyes were pleading. Wide. Trying to communicate without giving yourself away.
Then he saw.
Someone else.
A man.
Following you, like he belonged there.
He didn’t.
And Woozi knew it.
His expression didn’t shift. But inside, something burned.
Without a word, he walked straight up.
He moved.
Fast.
No announcement, no raised voice.
Just suddenly there.
Woozi stepped in beside you without missing a beat.
“Babe,” he said flatly, tone bored but meaningful. He tugged you gently behind him. His grip wasn’t tight—just enough to move you out of the guy’s line of sight. “You weren’t answering. You good?”
He didn’t look at the guy.
Not yet.
The man blinked. “Oh—uh, didn’t realize they were with someone—”
“They are,” Woozi cut in. Finally looking at him.
A pause.
Then he raised a single brow.
“Problem?”
No malice.
No volume.
Just flat.
Sharp as a blade.
The air dropped five degrees.
The man’s eyes flicked down, then backed up like he wasn’t sure if Woozi was bluffing—or processing target locations. The man shifted, coughed awkwardly.
“…Nah. My bad.”
Woozi didn’t move.
Didn’t nod.
Didn’t thank him.
He just stood there—expression unreadable, presence sharp.
The guy left.
Fast.
Once he disappeared around the corner, Woozi exhaled once—slow and quiet—before glancing back at you. You exhaled shakily. You were still tucked slightly behind him.
“You okay?” Woozi turned to you, expression softening a fraction, he briefly scanned the area as if expecting a second threat.
You nodded, shoulders finally dropping. “He kept trying to follow me. I didn’t wanna make a scene.”
“You should’ve screamed,” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing. “I would’ve decked him.”
You blinked, a little startled. “You would’ve?”
He gave you a look.
“Y/N. Even if I write songs for a living, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to throw a punch. I go to the gym.”
That made you laugh—breathless, soft, the sound of adrenaline melting off your skin.
He looked at you a moment longer, then glanced down at your empty hands.
“…Where’s the donuts?”
You blinked, startled. Then your entire face fell.
“I… dropped them.”
Woozi blinked.
“…You dropped the donuts?”
“I panicked.”
A small snort—a mixture of amusement and disbelief, escaped Woozi's lips. Not towards you but rather at the sheer absurdity of how ridiculous it was. He shook his head slightly.
Woozi swiftly slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his card—his black card, holding it out for you to see.
“Let’s go get more. I’ll stand behind you this time.”
You smiled, and this time, it reached your eyes.
As they walked back toward the main street, Woozi’s hand brushed yours once.
Deliberately.
He didn’t take your hand.
Just made sure it was there.
He didn’t say anything else. But as they walked back to the stalls with new donuts, he stayed closer than usual.
One step behind you.
One eye on the crowd.
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