#idolxreader

Your phone rests in your hand, screen still dark.

You wonder if he’s in rehearsals like he said.

If he’s thinking about this too.

The plane begins its descent, a gentle shift that pulls you back into the moment.

You straighten slightly in your seat, fingers tightening just a little.

After getting off the plane, you send a picture of you waiting i the immigration line.

yn : made it safely

You stare at it for a moment, thumb hovering like you’re expecting something right away.

Nothing.

Of course.

He’s probably busy.

Rehearsal. Staff. Schedules.

You exhale softly, locking your phone.

Focus.

Just get through this first.

—

“Next.”

You step forward, handing over your passport.

A few questions. A stamp.

Done.

You move along with the crowd again, grabbing your luggage, pushing through the sliding doors—

And just like that—

Seoul.

For real this time.

Your phone buzzes.

You freeze for half a second before checking it.

jk: you landed?

You blink.

A small scoff leaves you.

You type back—

yn: no i sent that for fun

Typing bubble appears instantly.

jk: very funny

Another message comes right after—

jk: where are you now

You glance around, adjusting your grip on your suitcase.

yn: just got out, where’s your manager?

He doesn't reply. 

You frown slightly, staring at the screen for a second longer.

Weird.

You slip your phone back into your pocket and start walking toward the exit, following the crowd pushing through the sliding doors.

The noise hits first.

Voices. Cars. Movement.

Then—

something else catches your eye.

A small crowd gathered near the barrier.

Phones out. Whispering. Pointing.

You slow down.

Maybe his manager might be one of them. You started reading the paper they brought, searching for your name.

And then—

you see him.

Standing just behind the barrier.

Cap low. Mask on. Dressed simply—but still unmistakably him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your steps falter.

Because in his hands—

is his iPad.

And on it—

your face.

A screenshot.

Messy hair. Bare face. Half-awake.

From your late-night call.

And right under it, in bold—

“WELCOME BACK Y/N”

You freeze.

Completely.

For a second, nothing moves.

Not the people around you.

Not the noise.

Not even your breath.

Because this—

this is so him.

So stupid. So unnecessary.

So—

Jungkook.

Your phone buzzes. You don’t even need to check.

But you do.

jk: found you

You look up. He’s already looking at you.

“Are you serious…” you mutter under your breath, half in disbelief, half trying not to laugh.

You walk toward him.

Slow at first.

Then a little faster.

Until you’re standing just a few steps away from the barrier.

Close enough now.

Close enough to see him properly.

Close enough to feel him.

He lowers the iPad.

Pulls his mask down slightly.

“…hey.”

Your breath catches.

“…hi.”

A pause.

A quiet one.

Then—

you shake your head, a small laugh escaping.

“Really? That picture?”

His lips twitch.

He shrugs, completely unbothered.

“I thought it was cute.”

Your heart does something stupid at that.

You roll your eyes quickly, looking away.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

Then—

“I missed you.” he says

A pause settles between you.

Heavy. Familiar.

Then—

he steps forward.

Slow. Careful.

Like he’s giving you time to pull away if you want to.

You don’t.

And that’s all it takes.

So he leans in—

and pulls you into a quick hug.

Almost awkward.

Like neither of you knows how long is too long.

His hand rests lightly against your back for just a second—

then he lets go.

Just like that.

You swallow.

“…I missed you too.”

You pull away first, taking a small step back like you need the space.

“Didn’t you say your manager was picking me up?” you ask, crossing your arms lightly. “Weren’t you supposed to have rehearsal?”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing.

“Yeah. Changed my mind last minute.”

A beat.

“Rehearsal can wait.”

You blink at him.

“You skipped rehearsal… for this?”

He tilts his head slightly.

“For you.”

It lands too easily.

Too directly.

You look away almost immediately, pretending to fix your grip on your suitcase.

“That’s irresponsible,” you mutter.

“Probably.”

“But your concert is today?”

He adjusts his grip on your suitcase, not looking at you right away.

“Soundcheck doesn’t start until 5 p.m., stupid,” he says casually. “It’s only 12:30 right now. We’ve got time. Relax.”

You blink at him.

“…did you just call me stupid?”

He finally glances at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.”

Before you can even react—

he reaches for your suitcase, taking it from you with ease, already turning toward the parking lot.

“Let’s go.”

You stand there for half a second, watching him walk ahead like that settles everything.

—

You kept walking to the parking lot, just to stop in front of a black sleek Bentley. 

You turn back to him.

“New car? Haven’t seen this one before.”

“Yeah.”

Of course that’s all he says.

You let out a small scoff, shaking your head.

“Wow… showing off much?”

He smirks. “Of course, why else would I take this to pick you up?”

You just shook your head. “Get in first,” he says simply. “I’ll put your suitcase in.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“So bossy.”

You huff, but move anyway, opening the passenger door again.

“Rich people behavior,” you mutter under your breath.

“I can still hear you.”

“Good.”

That earns a quiet chuckle from him as he lifts your suitcase into the trunk like it weighs nothing.

A second later, the door shuts.

He walks around, sliding back into the driver’s seat.

Not long after, the car pulls back onto the road.

For a while, neither of you says anything.

Just the quiet hum of the engine and the city passing by outside.

Then—

“Did you eat?”

You glance at him.

“…on the plane.”

“That doesn’t count.”

You let out a small huff. “It does, actually.”

He shakes his head slightly.

“We’re getting food first.”

You narrow your eyes.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, was it?”

“No.”

A small pause.

Then he glances at you briefly, one hand still on the wheel.

“What do you want to eat?”

You blink, a little caught off guard by the sudden switch.

“…you’re asking me?”

“Yeah.”

You lean back slightly, thinking.

“Hmm… I don’t know.”

“That’s not helpful.”

You scoff. “You’re the one who insisted on feeding me.”

“I think I know just the place,” he says.

Not long after, the car slows down and pulls over by the side of a small depot.

You glance outside—

and freeze.

No way.

You turn to him, eyes widening.

“Oh my god… you remember, don’t you?”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing.

“Your favorite, I guess.”

“YES,” you say immediately, already reaching for the door. “Oh my god, I missed this.”

You step out before he can say anything else, looking around like you’re seeing it for the first time again.

It hasn’t changed.

Same sign. Same smell drifting out from inside.

Same everything.

“I can’t believe you brought me here.”

He leans against the car for a second, watching you.

“I’m glad you like my pick.”

You look away quickly, trying to hide the way that affects you.

“Come on,” you say, nudging the door open. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, pushing himself off the car.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The bell above the door rings softly as you step inside.

Nothing’s changed.

Same worn-out tables. Same menu board. Same smell that hits you instantly—warm, familiar, comforting.

“Wow…” you murmur, looking around. “This place really hasn’t changed at all.”

“Yeah… I’ve been here a few times since you left,” he says, casual.

A small pause.

“…with Mingyu. He orders the same thing.”

“Of course he does.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “He never had his own taste.”

“He said it was easier.”

You let out a quiet huff. “Lazy.”

“Yeah,you do too”

Jungkook lifts his hand slightly, calling out, “Sajangnim.”

The owner looks over, already recognizing him.

“Two samgyetang,” he says. “One without skin, extra broth.”

A small pause—

then he glances at you.

“Right?”

You blink.

Caught off guard.

“…I think I have a sasaeng,” you mutter, leaning back slightly.

“You’re overthinking it.”

“Am I?” you raise a brow. “Because this feels like fan behavior.”

“Then you should feel honored.”

The food arrives not long after.

Warm. Steaming. Familiar.

You both thank the owner, and just like that—

it’s easy again.

You take a bite, eyes widening slightly.

“Okay… yeah,” you nod. “Still amazing.”

“Told you.”

“You didn’t tell me, you just dragged me here.”

“Same thing.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

Conversation flows without effort.

One thing to another.

Like it never left.

“Remember when you burned your tongue here?” he says.

You look up immediately. “Excuse me, that was not my fault.”

“You literally ate it straight out of the pot.”

“I was hungry.”

“You were impatient.”

“Same thing.”

You tilt your head slightly.

“Do you remember how we used to be like this?”

He pauses for a second.

Not long.

Just enough.

“…like what?”

You gesture lightly between the two of you.

“Just talking. Eating. Arguing over nothing.”

A soft huff leaves you.

“Like idiots.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah.”

You shake your head, almost laughing to yourself.

“That’s crazy.”

“What is?”

“That it still feels the same.”

“I don't disagree.”

Your smile lingers for a second longer than it should.

You scoop another spoonful, trying to act normal.

“…you’re still annoying, by the way,” you say casually, blowing on the soup before taking a bite.

Before you can say anything else—

he suddenly brings the spoon to your mouth.

You blink—

caught off guard—

but still take the bite.

“Hey—”

“Eat first,” he says, cutting you off casually. “Don’t talk while chewing. Rude.”

You stare at him, still chewing, eyes narrowing slightly.

Did he just—

You quickly swallow.

“Did you just feed me and call me rude?”

He shrugs, completely unfazed.

“You were talking with your mouth full.”

“I wasn’t even—”

“You were.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite to it.

—

After eating, the two of you head straight to the hotel.

The lobby is quiet—clean, polished, a little too formal compared to where you just were.

You step up to the front desk to check in, Jungkook standing beside you, one hand still casually holding your suitcase.

While you’re giving your details—

he leans slightly on the counter.

“I’m in room 1507,” he says, glancing at you. “If you need anything.”

You blink, turning to him.

“…you’re staying here too?”

“Yeah.”

A small shrug.

“It’s convenient, you know.”

Of course it is.

You nod slowly. “Right.”

He walks you to your room, setting your suitcase down once you’re inside.

“Here,” he says, adjusting the handle slightly.

“Thanks.”

A small pause.

Neither of you moves right away.

Then—

he checks the time on his phone.

“…I should go.”

You nod.

“Yeah. Your soundcheck, right?”

“Yeah. It’s starting soon.”

Another pause.

Short.

But it lingers.

“I’ll see you there,” he adds.

You lean lightly against the door, arms crossing without thinking.

“Try not to skip that too.”

A faint smirk appears.

“No promises.”

You roll your eyes.

“Go.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, stepping back toward the door.

“Rest a bit.”

You nod.

“I will.”

He hesitates for just a second—

like he wants to say something else.

But doesn’t.

“…see you,” he says instead.

“See you.”

And just like that—

he’s gone.

The door clicks shut.

Silence fills the room almost instantly.

You stand there for a moment longer than you should.

Then exhale softly, turning back inside.

—

You’re in front of the mirror, fixing your hair for the third time.

It’s just soundcheck.

Not even the concert.

And yet—

you’re overthinking everything.

You grab your phone.

A message from Mingyu.

mg: where are you

mg: i’m already close

You quickly type back—

yn: be there in 5

You grab your bag, take one last glance at yourself—

then leave.

By the time you arrive, the place is already buzzing.

Staff. Equipment. Movement everywhere.

You step out, scanning the area—

and spot him almost immediately.

Mingyu.

Leaning casually near the entrance.

Like he’s been there for a while.

Of course he has.

The moment he sees you—

he straightens.

Then walks over.

“Finally,” he says, stopping right in front of you. “I’ve been waiting like half an hour.”

You blink. “Half an hour?”

“At least.”

You scoff lightly. “There was traffic.”

“There’s always traffic.”

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes. “You act like you didn’t miss me.”

“I did, before you left me here alone for 30 minutes” he says immediately.

No hesitation.

That catches you off guard for half a second.

Then—

he steps closer.

And pulls you into a hug.

Longer than Jungkook’s.

Warmer.

Less careful.

“Welcome back you idiot.”

He pulls you back.

“You look tired,” Mingyu says, tilting his head slightly as he studies your face.

“I just landed a few hours ago,” you reply, adjusting the strap of your bag. “What did you expect?”

“A little less dead inside.”

You scoff. “Thanks.”

He grins, clearly satisfied with himself, then gestures toward the entrance behind him.

“Come on. They’re about to start running the first set.”

You follow him inside.

The stage area is already alive—staff moving cables, dancers stretching, monitors flashing through test visuals. The kind of organized chaos that somehow only makes sense to the people inside it.

And then—

you feel it before you see it.

A shift.

Your eyes scan instinctively.

And there he is.

Jungkook.

On stage now, mic in hand, talking to a staff member. Cap still low, hair slightly damp like he’s already been here longer than he said he would be.

Of course he’s here early.

Of course he ignored rest.

Soundcheck starts.

Music echoes through the venue, bouncing off empty seats.

You sit off to the side with Mingyu, staff occasionally passing by, everyone focused on final adjustments.

Mingyu leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out.

“You want some snacks?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

On stage, Jungkook finishes a run-through and steps back from the mic. Staff immediately move in, adjusting cables, talking into headsets, checking levels.

He lifts his bottle, takes a quick sip of water—

then looks up.

His eyes flick across the venue.

Casual. Almost careless.

Until they land on you.

Just for a second.

Long enough that you notice.

Short enough that no one else does.

He smiles, but doesn’t react.

Then turns back to the staff like nothing happened.

A moment later, the music kicks in again.

This time, he moves with it.

Not full performance mode yet—still soundcheck—but Jungkook slips into it effortlessly anyway.

He starts singing through the run, checking vocals, running lines with the band. But it doesn’t stay strictly professional for long.

A small dance step here.

A teasing glance toward the crew there.

A soft laugh when someone signals him to repeat a part.

And scattered across the seats—

a handful of VIP fans who won soundcheck access.

phones up, reacting in hushed excitement every time he slips into that playful energy.

The band adjusts behind him, and then—

Jimin walks out first.

Casual, hair slightly messy like he just rolled in from the side room, waving lightly at the staff before taking position.

Taehyung follows not long after, stretching his shoulders as he steps onto stage, greeting the crew with that relaxed grin of his.

The rest of the band settles in quickly after that, the atmosphere shifting slightly—more full, more alive.

Jungkook notices them arriving, nodding mid-song without breaking rhythm.

Then he finishes a line, steps back from the mic—

and immediately reaches for Jimin.

Pulling him in close by the sleeve.

Jimin leans in, laughing already like he knows it’s something unnecessary.

Jungkook says something under his breath, quick and low, barely audible over the stage noise.

Jimin’s expression changes just slightly.

He follows Jungkook’s line of sight.

For half a second, his eyes drift across the venue.

Then—

very casually—

he lifts a hand in a small wave.

Not exaggerated. Not pointed.

Like he’s greeting the general audience.

For a second, you don’t even move—just watching, trying to convince yourself it’s nothing more than what it looks like.

Behind you, the VIP fans react immediately, thinking it’s for them, some of them waving back shyly, phones lifting a little higher.

And then—

Mingyu notices too.

“…he’s waving,” he says lightly, like it’s obvious.

You don’t answer.

But Mingyu lifts his hand anyway, half-teasing.

Waving back toward the stage.

“Hi,” Jimin calls out under his breath, amused.

A couple of staff nearby glance over, but don’t say anything—used to this kind of energy already.

On stage, Jimin is still laughing quietly beside Jungkook, like nothing in particular just happened.

Jimin.

At least, him you actually know.

Out of all of the members, he’s the only one you’ve properly met before.

Back when everything wasn’t split by schedules and enlistment and timing.

The rest of the members—you’ve never really been introduced to in person. Not because of distance alone, but because everything happened around the same time: schedules overlapping, enlistment timing, everyone moving in different directions before there was ever a proper “hello.”

So most of what you know about them…

comes from Jungkook.

Random stories he used to tell you.

Half complaints, half jokes, sometimes exaggerated just to make you laugh.

But Jimin was different.

He enlisted at the same time as Jungkook, which somehow made things overlap again—brief dinners, casual hangout.

Not as close as you and Jungkook or Mingyu.

Just… present enough to not feel like a stranger.

—

Soundcheck eventually winds down.

The music fades out in pieces—drums first, then guitars, then Jungkook’s voice lingering for a second longer before the mic goes quiet.

Before you can respond, staff starts guiding everyone out.

“VIP soundcheck guests this way please.”

The crowd begins to move, a soft wave of excited chatter following the direction of the ushers.

You stand up slowly and follow along with Mingyu and the rest, being led through a separate corridor before finally arriving at a designated VIP seating area.

It’s quieter here. More organized. Clearly reserved.

Each seat already has something placed neatly on it.

Small souvenir bags. Personalized notes. Carefully arranged like it was planned down to the detail.

You pause when you reach your seat.

Your name is printed clearly on a small card sitting on top of the package.

You sit down, a little slower now, and start opening it.

Inside—

a towel and a jacket.

Simple, clean design.

Keep Swimming printed across it.

You blink at it for a second longer than necessary.

Then you reach for the small box beside it.

Inside is a bracelet.

Arirang-style design.

A subtle metallic finish.

And on it—

“JK” engraved neatly.

You exhale softly, almost instinctively looking down at it.

Then you glance sideways.

Mingyu is already opening his own package.

Same jacket.

No bracelet.

You look back at your own.

There’s a second small note tucked inside.

You unfold it carefully.

“like my little surprise? :)”

A faint smile slips out before you can stop it.

“…seriously,” you murmur under your breath.

You shake your head slightly, still holding the note.

But you’re smiling anyway.

Just a little.

Not long after, the atmosphere shifts.

The lights in the venue dim slowly, like the entire stadium is taking a breath at the same time.

A low fog begins to roll across the stage floor, thick and glowing under the faint lights.

The sound system hums—

then hits.

A deep bassline starts pulsing through the speakers.

“Hooligan” plays in the background, distorted and heavy, building tension in the air.

The crowd reacts instantly.

A wave of screams rises, louder than anything before.

Red lights flood the stage.

Everything turns sharp. Intense. Almost cinematic.

You straighten slightly in your seat without realizing it.

Mingyu glances at the stage, expression shifting into focus.

And then—

the first silhouette appears through the fog.

J-Hope.

The crowd erupts again.

He steps forward with absolute confidence, already in performance mode, the opening energy exploding the moment he moves.

The beat drops harder.

Lights flash in rhythm—red, white, then black.

And one by one—

the rest of the members emerge.

First Taehyung, stepping out through the smoke like it parts just for him, voice joining in smoothly as he hits his line without breaking stride.

Then Jimin, moving into formation with effortless precision, already in sync with the rhythm, voice light but controlled.

The crowd roars louder, recognizing every entrance, every silhouette.

Jungkook appears last.

Of course he does.

He doesn’t rush it.

Just walks through the fog like it’s nothing, eyes forward, mic already in hand.

Then—

the moment his line hits—

everything locks into place.

All of them together now.

Voices layering over the heavy beat, harmonizing, trading lines seamlessly like they’ve done this a thousand times before.

The stage lights shift again—brighter now, more dynamic, moving with the rhythm of the song.

You can feel the energy change in your chest.

From buildup—

to full impact.

By the time they move into the next songs, the stadium has fully exploded.

The energy doesn’t drop for a second.

Each track hits harder than the last—lights shifting, beats pulsing, the crowd screaming every lyric like they’ve been holding it in for years.

And somewhere between it all—

you stop just watching.

You’re in it.

At some point, you’re standing with Mingyu without even realizing it, both of you moving with the rhythm, jumping slightly when the beat drops, cheering louder as familiar songs come on.

Mingyu leans closer just to be heard over the noise.

“This is insane,” he shouts, grinning.

“I know.”

You continue to shout and jump with Mingyu, getting pulled deeper into the energy of the stadium.

Every drop, every chorus—you’re screaming along without even thinking anymore.

At some point, your voice starts to give out.

On stage, the members move like a unit—switching formations, trading lines, feeding off the crowd’s energy effortlessly.

Jungkook hits a high-energy section, and the stadium responds instantly, a wave of sound crashing forward.

You don’t even notice how much time passes.

Song after song.

Moment after moment.

And then—

the music starts to slow.

Not abruptly.

But noticeably.

The lights shift softer.

Warmer.

The screens dim into a calmer glow.

The crowd starts to realize it too.

One by one, the members begin their ending speeches.

You catch your breath slightly, slowly lowering your arm for the first time in a while.

Taehyung speaks first—soft, smiling, drawing cheers and laughter from the audience.

Jimin follows after, a little more emotional, thanking the fans with that familiar warmth.

J-Hope is next, energetic even in his closing words, still making people laugh through the exhaustion.

And then—

it’s quieter.

A small pause.

The kind that makes the entire stadium feel like it’s holding its breath.

Mingyu leans slightly closer to you.

“…it’s his turn,” he says.

You swallow slightly without realizing it.

On stage, Jungkook steps forward.

The lights settle on him.

Not bright.

Not overwhelming.

Just focused.

He stands there for a moment before speaking, letting the noise calm down naturally.

Then he smiles a little.

And he begins his speech.

Jungkook stands there for a moment, letting the noise settle.

The stadium slowly quiets—still buzzing, still emotional, but listening.

He adjusts the mic slightly.

Then exhales.

A small smile appears, not the playful one from earlier, but something softer.

More grounded.

“Today…” he starts, voice steady, carrying through the entire venue, “was really loud.”

A few laughs ripple through the crowd.

He nods slightly, like he agrees with them.

“It always is when we’re here together.”

He pauses, eyes scanning the sea of lights.

“But… every time, it still feels the same.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

“I think…” he continues slowly, “we’ve been doing this for a long time now. But somehow, when I stand here and see all of you… it still feels like the first time.”

The crowd reacts softly—cheers, a few shouts, ARMY Bombs waving gently in the dark.

He lowers his gaze for a second, then looks back up.

“There were times we were tired. Times we were away. Times we weren’t sure when we could stand here again like this.”

His voice softens slightly.

“But you waited.”

A beat.

“And we came back.”

Silence falls over the stadium in a different way now—heavy, emotional.

He lets that sink in.

Then a faint smile returns.

“I saw you all today,” he adds, a little lighter again, “jumping like crazy, screaming like you still have energy even when your voice is gone.”

A few louder cheers break through that.

His eyes flick across the crowd again.

Then—

for just a second—

toward your side of the venue.

It’s quick.

Almost nothing.

But it lingers in the air anyway.

“I hope…” he continues, voice quieter now, “you remember today like we do.”

A small breath.

“And I hope… we can keep meeting like this for a long, long time.”

He bows his head slightly.

Not deep.

Just sincere.

Then he looks back up, smile faint but real.

“Thank you.”

The stadium erupts immediately.

Cheers crash over each other, ARMY Bombs shaking like waves across a glowing sea. The sound is so loud it feels like it presses against your chest.

Jungkook stays still for a moment, just watching it all—taking it in.

Then he steps back slightly, giving a small nod to the crowd, like he doesn’t know how else to hold everything he just received.

The rest of the members start to move in again, joining him on stage for the final moment.

Jimin appears beside him first, nudging him lightly like don’t get too emotional now, making Jungkook let out a small laugh.

Taehyung follows, stretching his arms around both of them briefly, still smiling as he waves to the crowd.

J-Hope steps in last, already hyping the audience one more time even at the end, getting another round of screams.

They line up together.

The lighting softens again—warmer now, golden, almost like a goodbye instead of a performance.

Jungkook glances sideways at them, then back at the crowd.

And for a moment, everything slows.

He lifts his mic again.

“One more time,” he says softly, smiling now.

The crowd reacts instantly.

Louder. Emotional. Not ready for it to end yet.

The intro of the final song begins.

And the entire stadium shifts into that last wave of energy—no longer explosive, but full. Connected. Like everyone is holding on to the moment a little tighter.

You feel it too.

Even your tired voice can’t stop you from cheering again, ARMY Bomb lifting instinctively in your hand.

Mingyu beside you is still smiling, shaking his head like he can’t believe the atmosphere.

“Let’s get out of here before it gets too crowded,” he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the final chorus building on stage.

You blink, still half caught in the moment.

“Where we goin’?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious, already standing and motioning for you to follow.

“Uhm, backstage?”

You hesitate for half a second—your eyes instinctively flicking back to the stage.

Jungkook is mid-song now, fully in the final stretch, voice carrying across the stadium like it doesn’t want to let go yet.

Mingyu notices your pause.

“Don’t worry,” he says, softer this time. “You’ve seen enough from here.”

A beat.

Then he nudges your arm lightly. “Come on.”

Then you turn away.

“…okay,” you say quietly.

And you follow Mingyu out, the sound of the final chorus still chasing you down the aisle as you leave.

Backstage is quieter, but still buzzing with post-show chaos—staff moving around, monitors still playing faint audio of the ending song, people hugging, catching their breath.

You step in behind Mingyu.

On the sofa, Namjoon is already there, leaning back with his head resting against the cushion, one arm draped over the back like he’s trying to recover his entire soul at once. Taehyung is beside him, lying half across the sofa with his arm over his eyes, looking completely drained but still somehow smiling to himself.

The moment Mingyu sees them, he lifts his hand slightly.

“Hyung,” he greets casually.

Namjoon tilts his head up first, eyes half-lidded, then gives a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Ah… Mingyu,” he replies, voice low and tired but warm.

Taehyung lowers his arm just enough to peek at you both, then lets out a soft, amused sound.

“You survived the crowd?” he mutters.

Mingyu scoffs lightly. “Barely.”

You give a small bow of greeting, a little more reserved, still taking in the space.

Namjoon’s eyes shift to you then—more attentive now.

“Oh,” he says gently, like he’s just placing you. “You’re here too.”

There’s a brief pause.

Taehyung squints slightly, then sits up a little more, recognition flickering in his expression.

“Ah… Jungkook’s friend,” he says casually, like he’s recalling something from memory rather than meeting you for the first time properly.

Mingyu glances at you for a second, then back at them.

“Yeah, she’s been dragged around all day,” he says, half joking.

Namjoon lets out a small laugh through his breath, shaking his head.

“Sounds like him,” he murmurs.

You give a small polite smile and step a little forward.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you say simply.

There’s a brief pause.

Not awkward—just the kind where people are quickly placing you in their heads, connecting dots, figuring out context without needing it explained.

Namjoon nods first, gentle.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “We’ve heard about you.”

Mingyu leans slightly toward you, lowering his voice so only you can hear over the backstage noise.

“Im going to the toilet, wait here.”

You glance at him. “Okay.”

He nods once and starts stepping away.

You turn back toward the sofa area where Namjoon and Taehyung are still sitting. The atmosphere is calm now—post-concert fatigue settling in, voices softer, movements slower.

Namjoon leans his head back against the sofa, exhaling deeply.

Taehyung stretches his arms a little, then looks at you.

“You came with Mingyu?” he asks casually.

“Yeah,” you reply. “We’ve been together most of the day.”

He nods like that makes sense.

“Busy night,” Namjoon adds quietly.

You give a small smile. “Yeah… it was insane.”

A beat passes.

“You guys did great,” you add sincerely.

Taehyung glances at you, then smiles faintly, eyes soft with exhaustion.

“Thanks,” he says simply.

Namjoon gives a small nod too. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Taehyung asks it casually, like it’s just part of conversation—no pressure, just curiosity.

“So, how did you know JK?”

You adjust your stance slightly, thinking.

“…we met a while ago,” you say carefully. “Through a mutual circle.”

Taehyung nods slowly, like he’s processing that.

“A mutual circle, you mean—” he starts.

“Mingyu.” you reply

“You know…” he starts casually, “Jungkook wouldn’t stop talking about his friend coming over.”

That makes you pause.

Namjoon opens his eyes a little, glancing between the two of you now.

Taehyung continues, tone light, but observant.

“He kept saying someone was coming. Didn’t say much, just—” he shrugs slightly, “kept bringing it up.”

You blink once.

“He did?” you ask quietly.

Taehyung nods.

“Yeah. More than once.”

A short silence settles.

Not heavy.

Just… thoughtful.

Namjoon hums faintly, like it adds up to something in his head.

Taehyung looks at you again, this time with a faint, knowing smile.

“So I guess that’s you.”

A sudden shift in the air.

The backstage door swings open.

Jungkook walks in.

Still in his stage outfit, slightly damp hair, mic pack half unclipped like he just got off being pulled from somewhere mid-conversation. His eyes scan the room quickly—then land on Namjoon and Taehyung on the sofa.

“Hyung,” he calls out casually. “What is it?”

Taehyung immediately smirks a little, leaning back like he’s enjoying the timing.

“Nothing,” he replies.

Namjoon glances at Jungkook, then briefly at you, before sitting up slightly.

“Just talking,” he adds calmly.

Jungkook hums like he doesn’t fully believe that, but doesn’t push it.

Then his gaze shifts.

And lands on you.

“…hey,” he says.

But before anything else can continue—

you step forward slightly, remembering.

“Oh—wait.”

You turn toward the side where your bag is placed earlier, quickly reaching inside.

“I almost forgot.”

You pull something out.

A small bundle of flowers.

Neatly wrapped, simple but thoughtful—one for each member.

The room shifts subtly.

Taehyung raises his eyebrows slightly, immediately interested. Namjoon straightens a little more, now fully paying attention.

Jungkook’s eyes flick down to what you’re holding.

You clear your throat lightly.

“Before I left, I went out for a bit,” you explain. “I got these.”

You step forward and hand them out one by one.

“Just… for today.”

Taehyung takes his first, smiling immediately.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That’s nice.”

Namjoon follows, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you.”

Then—

you turn slightly toward Jungkook last.

He’s still watching you.

Not the flowers first.

You.

Jungkook takes them, fingers brushing yours for a brief second, then he just looks at you.

Like everything else in the room fades for half a beat.

“…welcome back, kook,” you say softly.

Jungkook blinks once, like he’s not used to hearing that name from you again in this space, like it pulls something familiar forward.

Then the corner of his lips lifts. Smiling widely. Showing his bunny teeth.

But he doesn’t get to stay in that moment long.

The backstage door opens again.

This time, it’s louder—more energy spilling in.

Jimin comes in first.

The moment he spots you, his face lights up immediately.

“Oh—Y/N!”

No hesitation.

He walks straight over and pulls you into a warm hug, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Tight, familiar, no awkward distance at all.

“Youre back!,” he says into the hug, laughing softly.

You exhale, smiling a little as you return it. “Hi, Jimin.”

He finally lets go—but stays close, still smiling like he’s genuinely happy to see you.

Behind him, the rest of the members start filing in.

Jin first, looking around with that calm, slightly amused expression of his.

“Ah, so you’re the guest everyone was talking about,” he says lightly when his eyes land on you.

You give a small bow. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jin replies with a nod.

J-Hope comes in next, instantly brighter energy even after the concert, already smiling wide.

“Hey hey!” he greets, waving before pointing at you. “So you’re the friend!”

Yoongi follows more quietly, hands in his pockets, observing for a second before giving a small nod of acknowledgment.

You straighten slightly and introduce yourself again, a bit more formal now.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

One by one, you offer the flowers.

Jin takes his first, looking at it like it’s more meaningful than he expected. “Oh, this is nice.”

“Thank you,” J-Hope says immediately, already smiling at it like it made his night better.

Yoongi accepts his with a simple, “Thanks,” but his expression softens slightly anyway.

Taehyung watches from the side, amused, while Namjoon quietly observes the whole exchange like he’s putting the scene together in his head.

“Congrats on your comeback,” you say, offering a small smile as you hand over the last of the flowers.

There’s a brief pause as a few of them look at you—warm, appreciative, slightly amused at how formal you’re trying to be in a room that’s clearly not formal at all.

J-Hope is the first to react.

“Thanksss, and thank you for coming!” he says brightly, taking the flowers with both hands like he means it.

Jin smiles lightly. “You watched the whole thing?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It was amazing.”

Yoongi gives a small, almost shy nod of acknowledgment. “Glad you liked it.”

Jimin is still standing close by, leaning slightly toward you with an easy grin.

“You survived the crowd, right?” he asks.

You let out a small laugh. “Barely.”

That gets a few quiet chuckles around the group.

Namjoon glances between everyone, then back at you. “You picked a good night to come back.”

You smile politely, adjusting your grip on your bag strap.

“Yeah… I guess I did.”

“Oh, and is anyone hungry?”

The room shifts slightly at your voice.

You bend down and lift a box from the table nearby—the one you had quietly placed earlier without much attention.

“I bought chicken.”

A beat.

Then J-Hope reacts first.

“Chicken?!” he immediately lights up, stepping closer. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Jin leans in too, peeking at the box with approval. “After a concert? Perfect timing.”

Jimin laughs softly, already looking curious. “You really came prepared.”

You shrug a little. “I wasn’t sure if you guys would eat after.”

Yoongi glances at the box, then gives a small nod. “We will.”

That alone is enough confirmation.

Suddenly, the tired backstage atmosphere shifts again—just a little. Less quiet, more alive.

J-Hope is already helping open it. Jin is checking what kind it is. Jimin is hovering nearby like he’s deciding which piece to steal first.

Namjoon lets out a small breath of a laugh, shaking his head.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says.

“It’s fine,” you reply simply. “I was already getting it anyway.”

From the side, Jungkook finally moves closer.

Before he can say anything, you cut in first—casual, like it’s obvious.

“I know you’re always hungry after concerts.”

Jimin’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. J-Hope lets out a soft “ohhh?” under his breath, amused. Jin glances between you and Jungkook with quiet interest.

Jungkook stops for a second.

Then his expression softens.

“…yeah,” he admits, a little laugh slipping out. “I am.”

“It’s not hard to remember,” you say. “You complain about it a lot.”

That gets a few laughs around the room.

Jungkook huffs a small laugh too, shaking his head, but he’s still smiling.

“Okay,” he says, accepting it. “Fair.”

The backstage door swings open again—this time more abruptly.

Mingyu bursts in.

“Wow,I got left out for food? I was only in the bathroom for a bit!” he blurts out, eyes scanning the room.

A few heads turn immediately.

J-Hope laughs first. Jin looks amused, already entertained. Jimin covers a smile with his hand. Yoongi glances over briefly, completely unbothered.

You turn toward him right away. “You were gone like five minutes.”

“Exactly!” Mingyu points at you like that proves his case. “That’s enough time for betrayal.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s food, relax.”

His expression softens instantly at that, then he steps closer, finally noticing the chicken box in the center.

“Oh,” he says, mood shifting immediately. “Okay, we’re good then.”

He leans in and grabs a piece like he hasn’t eaten in hours.

From the side, the members watch the interaction with quiet amusement.

Taehyung smiles faintly. Jin shakes his head like this is the most normal backstage chaos. J-Hope is already hyping up how good the food is again.

—

You step out with the group, the air outside the venue cooler, the noise of the city slowly replacing the chaos from inside.

Jungkook is already by the van when you get there.

He glances over once.

Then nods slightly.

You hesitate for a second, then walk toward him anyway.

Mingyu, on the other hand—

is still outside.

He watches the van pull away for a second, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable for a moment longer than usual.

Then he exhales lightly, like he’s shaking something off.

“See you tomorrow,” he says casually to the direction you just left in, even though you’re already gone.

Without making it a big thing, you end up getting into the same van Jungkook’s taking back.

Inside, it’s quiet.

The kind of quiet that feels heavier after a loud night.

Jungkook sits across from you, leaning back against the seat, cap slightly lowered again, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

He doesn’t talk right away.

Neither do you.

Outside the window, Seoul moves past in blurred lights.

After a while, he glances at you.

“…tired?” he asks quietly.

“A little,” you admit.

He hums softly, then looks away again.

No pressure. No rush. Just shared silence.

At some point, his breathing changes.

Quieter. Deeper.

You glance over.

His head has tilted slightly against the seat, cap still low, lips parted just a little as he falls into sleep without really meaning to.

Completely exhausted now that everything has finally ended.

When the van slows near your drop-off point, it becomes obvious you’re close.

You adjust your bag, getting ready to leave.

Jungkook straightens slightly.

Not saying much—just watching.

Jungkook walks with you down the quiet hotel hallway.

The carpet muffles every step, the lighting soft and dim after such a loud night. Neither of you really speaks much—just the steady sound of walking and the faint hum of the building.

When you reach your door, you stop.

Jungkook does too.

He glances at the number, then at you.

“This one?” he asks again, just to be sure.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He steps closer, tapping the key card lightly against the lock. The light turns green.

Click.

Unlocked.

You pause, holding your bag a little tighter.

“Thanks,” you say softly.

Jungkook nods once, then shifts his weight slightly, like he’s about to leave—but doesn’t immediately.

There’s a small pause.

Then he looks at you.

“…thank you, Y/N,” he says quietly.

You blink slightly. “For what?”

A faint, tired smile forms on his lips.

“For coming today.”

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just honest.

He nods once more, then steps back a little.

“Rest okay?” he adds.

And this time, he turns fully and walks down the hallway, hands in his pockets, disappearing into the soft hotel light.

oral fixation: he catches on quick, noticing how your lips linger on straws, how you bite pens, how you suck on your fingers just a second too long. “you just like having something in your mouth, huh?” next thing you know, his cock is halfway down your throat, one hand wrapped in your hair while the other strokes your cheek. he groans when you gag around him and pulls you off just to see the spit stretch between your lips. “so pretty like this. wanna keep you full all the time.”

weight gain: sion’s obsession with your thighs gets worse. every time you sit in his lap now, he squeezes at the extra softness like it drives him crazy. “you’ve been eating good, baby.” it’s all praise, not a single complaint. he buries his face in your chest, groans into your belly, whispers “wanna fuck you on the kitchen counter. prove to you just how much i love this new weight.”

fat ass: can’t keep his eyes off you. touches you even when you’re just walking past. “you know what that does to me, right?” slaps your ass hard enough to make it jiggle and presses his hard-on against you from behind. bends you over and fucks you so deep he moans your name into your spine. “you were made for this- fuck, for me. look at the way you bounce, you hear that?”

big boobs: always has his face in them. uses your tits as his personal pillow, motorboats you like a menace, and groans every time you wear anything remotely low-cut. “lemme fuck them. just once.” ends up cumming all over your chest while he pants against your throat. cleans it up with his tongue like he’s starving. “swear they’re getting bigger. or maybe i’m just more obsessed every time.”

yushi:

oral fixation: smirks the second he notices how often your lips part around him. you lick things too slow, suck lollipops too deep, and he loves it. “you’re always looking for something to suck, huh? come here.” fucks your mouth lazy, thumb stroking your bottom lip between thrusts. “such a cute little mouth, can’t believe it’s all mine.” he’ll cum in your mouth and beg you to swallow, watching your throat move with a groan.

weight gain: praises every curve, every new softness. wraps his arms around your belly and hums against your skin. “you’ve been growing for me, haven’t you?” he lays you on your side and fucks you slow, groaning when your thighs slap against his hips. “don’t cover up. let me see all of it. let me fuck you right.”

fat ass: he’s obsessed. can’t stop touching, slapping, grinding against it. loves watching you walk away in tight shorts just so he can hiss “fuck, come back here.” bends you over the armrest and fucks you so rough the couch squeaks. grips your ass like handles and spreads you open to watch himself go in and out. “this ass is mine, you hear me? nobody else gets to see it bounce like this.”

big boobs: they’re his favorite place to finish. he’ll fuck you slow and kiss all over your chest, fingers pinching your nipples while he whispers, “they’re so soft… perfect to hold. perfect to ruin.” ends up fucking your tits between rounds, cock sliding through the valley while you spit on it and stroke him. he finishes all over you and moans, “made just for me.”

jaehee:

oral fixation: jaehee’s usually shy but he melts when you show how much you love having your mouth full. he watches you suck on his fingers like you’re starved, cheeks hollow, tongue greedy. “you like this?” he gets bold real quick, voice dropping when you gag around his cock. “fuck, i didn’t know you could get this messy.” praises your mouth while holding your chin, cum dripping down your tongue.

weight gain: blushes like crazy but can’t stop touching you. especially your stomach. loves when you ride him and he can squeeze your waist, eyes locked on the jiggle. “you feel so good like this. i mean it- so soft, so warm.” presses his forehead to your chest and ruts up into you slow. “don’t change. please. you’re perfect just like this.”

fat ass: he’s shy until he isn’t. the moment he realizes just how soft and thick you are back there, he starts dreaming about it. grips your hips when you grind on him and groans when your ass presses into his lap. eventually breaks and says, “i wanna see it. wanna fuck it. please, let me.” takes you from behind and whines every time it bounces, fingernails digging into your skin.

big boobs: straight-up motorboats you like it’s the only thing on his bucket list. absolutely obsessed. “i could live right here.” he groans when you let him fuck your tits, holding them together while he thrusts between them, cock shiny from your spit. finishes on your chest, panting, then immediately starts kissing all over them again like he can’t stop. “they’re so big now. i love them. i love you.”

riku:

oral fixation: once he notices you like sucking things, his brain just breaks. literally has to adjust himself when you lick a popsicle. “you really like using your mouth, huh? wanna use it on me?” ends up sitting back while you suck his cock between your lips, messy and eager. moans so loud when you make eye contact. “fuck. yeah, that’s it. you were made for this.”

weight gain: riku doesn’t even try to hide how much he loves it. buries his face in your thighs and groans like he’s in heaven. “you’ve been gettin’ softer… you feel so fuckin’ good now.” gets you underneath him, presses his whole body to yours, and fucks you slow. “don’t even think about losing it. this weight? this softness? it’s driving me insane.”

fat ass: grabs it all the time. lifts it, smacks it, spreads it wide while you moan into the couch cushions. “you know what this thing does to me? i can’t stop staring.” obsessed with the sound it makes when he fucks you hard. “bounce it for me. yeah- like that, like that. fuck, baby, that’s it.” he loses his mind when you ride him and lean forward, watching your ass bounce while he fucks up into you like a man possessed.

big boobs: “you know how long i’ve been wanting to touch these?” he’s not even shy about it. palms them rough, sucks your nipples like he’s trying to drink from them, groans every time they jiggle. “let me fuck them. please...” he cums all over your chest then kisses his mess like he’s proud. calls you his dream girl every time. “you’re too sexy like this. you’re gonna kill me.”

Hongjoong didn’t even look up from his own phone, though his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He remained unnervingly calm. "She's mad because I forgot that specific, limited-edition book she asked me to pick up in London. I know I heard her, and I know she reminded me about a dozen times, but it completely slipped my mind in the chaos of the airport."

Seonghwa sighed, shaking his head. "She's been talking about that book for weeks. You know how she gets when you forget something important, especially when she’s been looking forward to it."

From the kitchen, the sounds of your anger escalated. You were aggressively preparing a cup of coffee, the metal spoon clinking violently against the ceramic mug. You marched back out, clutching the steaming cup, and slammed it down onto the coffee table with a thud, hot liquid sloshing over the rim. You didn’t say a word, but your eyes locked onto Hongjoong’s with a fierce, burning intensity. You glared at him, your chest heaving slightly, before you turned on your heel and stomped back down the hallway, leaving the two men in a deafening silence.

Seonghwa watched you go, his expression shifting from concern to pure bewilderment. He leaned closer to Hongjoong, keeping his voice strictly hushed. "Are you going to do something about this? She looks ready to burn the place down. How are you planning to fix it?"

Hongjoong finally looked up, offering a casual, almost smug shrug of his shoulders. "I already ordered it online yesterday. It’s supposed to arrive by courier tomorrow morning."

Seonghwa blinked, surprised. "Wait, so you fixed it? Did you tell her? Does she know it’s coming?"

Hongjoong shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the doorway where you had vanished. "Not yet."

"Why not?" Seonghwa pressed, genuinely baffled by his leader's strategy. "Why let her stay this mad if you already solved the problem?"

Hongjoong didn't get the chance to answer. You stormed past them again, your coffee cup now empty, headed back toward the bedroom. You didn't acknowledge them, but your icy demeanor remained firmly in place, sending a clear message that the grudge was very much active.

Once you had rounded the corner and the sound of your bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the hallway, Hongjoong finally relaxed his posture. A slow, mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned his attention back to his bandmate. He leaned back into the cushions, looking far too pleased for a man currently in the doghouse.

"You really don't get it, do you, Hwa?" Hongjoong murmured, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and genuine affection. He sighed softly, shaking his head as if he were letting Seonghwa in on a secret. "She is just incredibly hot when she’s mad like that. I honestly wouldn't mind letting her stay angry for a little while longer."

Seonghwa

The front door clicked open, and the sound of your heels clicking against the entryway floor was the signal Seonghwa had been dreading for the last hour. He sat on the edge of the sofa, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He had tried to be helpful, really, he had. You had left your favorite silk dress in the washer, and he thought he’d save you the trouble by moving it to the dryer before you got home.

Except, in his haste, he hadn’t checked the label. He’d cranked the heat up high, and by the time he realized his mistake, the damage was already done.

You walked into the living room, your face softening the moment you saw him. You leaned down, pressing a sweet, unsuspecting kiss to his cheek. "Hey, baby," you chirped, your voice bright. "Did you manage to pull my dress out of the dryer? I’m hoping to wear it tonight for dinner."

Seonghwa felt the blood drain from his face. He forced a smile that felt more like a grimace and nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's... it’s out."

"You're a lifesaver," you said, beaming at him before turning toward the laundry room.

Seonghwa held his breath, bracing himself. He didn't have to wait long. A sharp, guttural scream erupted from the back of the house, followed by the distinct sound of a hanger clattering against the wall. He flinched, his shoulders hunching up toward his ears.

A moment later, you stormed back into the living room, a crumpled, shrunken piece of fabric held aloft in your grip like a crime scene piece of evidence. You looked like you were vibrating with fury.

"Explain this," you demanded, your voice trembling with rage as you thrust the mangled dress toward his face. "Seonghwa, please, just tell me how this happened."

He stood up slowly, keeping his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I... I wasn't as attentive as I should have been. I’m so sorry, I didn't think about the fabric type—"

"You didn't think?" You cut him off, your voice rising into a sharp, incredulous shout. "This is my absolute favorite dress! I told you specifically how much I love this, and now it’s ruined. It looks like a doll's outfit! How could you be so careless?"

You continued to rant, your arms gesturing wildly. As you paced in front of him, letting out your frustration, Seonghwa found himself momentarily distracted. He watched the way your cheeks flushed a deep, vibrant red, contrasting beautifully with the fire in your eyes. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, your breathing ragged from the intensity of your anger. A strange, undeniable spark flared in his chest; there was something undeniably captivating about the way you held your ground, completely unafraid to let him have it.

A small, genuine smile—completely involuntary—began to spread across his lips.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes narrowing into slits. "Are you... are you seriously laughing at me right now?"

The smirk vanished instantly. Seonghwa’s expression turned deathly serious, though the ghost of that smile still tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No. No, I’m not laughing. I’m very sorry, I—"

His mouth twitched. He bit down on his lower lip hard, trying to force his face back into a mask of contrition, but the amusement was still dancing in his eyes.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, your mouth agape. "You are laughing! You think this is funny?"

Without another word, you balled up the ruined silk and threw it at his chest. It hit him softly, sliding down his torso before landing on the floor. You turned on your heel, your hair whipping around with the force of your movement, and stormed off toward the bedroom. The door slammed behind you with a finality that made the floorboards vibrate.

Seonghwa stood alone in the quiet living room. He slowly reached down and picked up the shrunken dress, the fabric still warm from the machine. He watched the hallway where you had disappeared, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the edge of the ruined hem. He bit his lip again, a soft, breathless laugh finally escaping him.

"Well," he whispered to the empty room, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and lingering admiration. "I certainly didn't expect that."

Yunho

The late afternoon sun was streaming through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the living room, but the atmosphere inside felt anything but warm. You stood in the center of the room, blinking against the light, your head throbbing with the disorienting, heavy fog of a two-hour nap.

"I told you," you snapped, your voice rough with sleep and sharpened by genuine irritation. "I specifically asked for thirty minutes, Yunho. Just thirty! And now look at the time. It’s nearly sunset. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be for me to fall asleep tonight?"

Yunho sat on the edge of the sofa, looking up at you with a sheepish expression. He looked genuinely guilty, though his explanation sounded flimsy at best. "I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn't mean to lose track of time. It’s just... that episode of Kitchen Nightmares was so intense! Gordon Ramsay was tearing into that chef, and I got so sucked into the drama that I completely forgot to check the clock."

"I don't care about the kitchen, or the drama, or the chef!" you whined, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "I’m going to be a complete zombie tomorrow. I have that meeting, and now I’m going to be dragging myself around like a wreck because you couldn't be bothered to set an alarm."

You let out a frustrated huff, pacing back and forth before stopping to rake your fingers through your messy, sleep-tousled hair. You sighed deeply, a sound of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Yunho’s expression shifted. As he watched you—the way your hair fell wildly around your face, the sound of your frustrated whines, and the way your body language radiated such raw, unfiltered fire—his guilt began to be overshadowed by a different, much more potent feeling. He leaned back, tilting his head to the side, his eyes darkening as he took you in. He didn't just look at you; he studied you, his gaze dragging slowly from your head to your toes, lingering on your flushed, tired face.

You caught him in the act. The way his focus shifted made your skin prickle, though not entirely from anger this time. "Don't look at me like that," you muttered, narrowing your eyes. "It’s your fault I look like this, so you don't get to stand there and look at me like I’m some kind of entertainment."

Yunho let out a low, melodic chuckle that vibrated in the small space between you. He stood up, towering over you, and closed the distance. "I’m not looking at you like that because you're tired," he said, his voice dropping into a teasing, husky register. "I’m looking at you because, even when you're fuming and sleep-deprived, you look absolutely gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel your cheeks heating up for a different reason now. "Oh, stop it. I’m serious, Yunho. I am really, really mad at you. You ruined my sleep schedule."

He didn't back down. Instead, he reached out, pouting his lower lip in a mock-apologetic way that made your heart skip a beat despite your best efforts to stay firm. He leaned in, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to your cheek before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered, "If you're worried about not being tired enough to sleep... I might have a few ideas on how we can burn off that extra energy."

You groaned, the sound caught somewhere between a protest and a surrender. You pushed against his chest, trying to maintain some space, though his grip remained firm. "You are disgusting," you muttered, though the bite in your tone had long since vanished.

Yunho just chuckled, pulling you closer, his eyes dancing with mischief as he waited to see if you would finally give in.

Yeosang

The kitchen counter was already a disaster zone of flour, mixing bowls, and half-opened ingredient packets. You had been waiting for Yeosang to return from the grocery store for the better part of an hour, and the moment the front door clicked shut, you were at his side, eager to finish the birthday cake for your friend.

Yeosang set the bags on the island, his movements a little more deliberate than usual. You started pulling out the items, checking them off your mental list, until your hand hit the bottom of the bag. You rummaged through, moving aside the sugar and the food coloring, but your heart sank.

"Yeosang? Where’s the black fondant?" you asked, looking up at him.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the window before settling on your face. "The store was out of it," he said, his voice a little too smooth, a little too rehearsed.

You squinted at him, narrowing your eyes. You knew that tone; you knew that slight tilt of his head. "You’re lying."

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders slumping as he realized the jig was up. "Okay, fine. There was only one package left on the shelf. But this elderly lady reached for it at the same time, and she seemed so sweet—she told me it was for her nephew’s birthday—so I just… I couldn't be rude. I let her have it."

You stared at him in utter disbelief, your jaw dropping slightly. "Are you kidding me? Yeosang, have you lost your mind? We need that for the decorations! You’re the one baking with me, you know this!"

"She was really sweet, though," he protested, trying to defend his soft heart. "She even showed me a picture of the boy—"

"She was probably lying to trick you!" you snapped, your frustration finally boiling over. You started pacing the small kitchen floor. "Yeosang, you are constantly too nice to everyone. You let people walk all over you, and then you get tricked every single time. It’s exhausting! You have to start learning how to speak up, how to say no, and how to look out for yourself instead of being the neighborhood saint."

Yeosang frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to defend his nature. "It’s not like I get tricked all the time—"

"You absolutely do!" you interrupted, huffing as you grabbed a bowl and shoved it toward the sink. "Now I have to improvise, and the cake isn't going to look like anything I planned. Everything is ruined because you couldn't tell a little old lady 'no'."

You went on a tear, lecturing him with a level of passion and confidence that made the air in the room feel heavy. You pointed a flour-dusted finger at him, listing every instance where his kindness had backfired, your eyes flashing with annoyance.

But as he watched you, Yeosang’s defensiveness began to melt away. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked onto your face. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way you stood your ground, the way your voice took on that commanding, authoritative edge. The sheer intensity of your lecture, the way your hair was slightly disheveled and your cheeks were flushed with irritation—it was doing something to his pulse. He found himself mesmerized by the way your mind worked, by how tough and unyielding you were in this moment.

"You're right," he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave. "I really should listen to you."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden compliance. "I—yes, you should. Because I’m usually right about these things."

"You are," he agreed, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You’re so smart. And tough. It’s… actually pretty attractive."

You frowned, your hand still hovering over the counter. "Stop that. Don't try to compliment me just to get out of trouble when I’m mad at you."

Yeosang chuckled, a low, smooth sound that only served to frustrate you more. He stepped into your personal space, his gaze intensifying. "I can't help it. You look so good when you’re lecturing me like that."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't stop the heat rising to your cheeks. You shoved a bag of flour into his chest. "Move your ass and stop flirting. If you ruined my plans, you’re going to help me fix this mess."

He caught the bag, his smirk widening as he stepped up to the counter. "Yes, ma'am."

San

The notification sound on your phone was becoming the soundtrack to your frustration. Ding. Another shirtless gym selfie from San on his story, captioned with a casual, lazy emoji. It was the third one today.

When he finally sauntered into the living room, still looking far too fresh after his workout, you were already pacing. You didn't even look at him as you tossed your phone onto the sofa.

"Another one, San?" you snapped, your voice tight. "Do you really need to show the entire world your abs every single time you step into the gym? It’s relentless."

San paused, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel before tossing it aside. He looked entirely unbothered, even slightly amused. "It’s just fanservice, babe. It’s part of the job. It really doesn't mean anything to me."

You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. Your lip jutted out in a stubborn pout. "It means something to them! I feel like I have to share you with thousands of people every single day. I see the comments, I see the edits... it doesn’t help my mood, San."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and took a step toward you. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. "You know you’re the only one who actually gets to touch me, right? Everyone else is just looking at a screen. You’re the one who gets the real thing."

You shoved his shoulder, though your heart wasn't really in the violence of the push. "That doesn't make it any better! It’s not just the pictures. Even when we go out, I see the way girls look at you. It’s constant, and it pisses me off. It’s like I’m constantly on guard, defending my territory."

San’s eyes glinted with a dangerous, playful spark. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing, velvety whisper. "If you’re worried about territory, why don’t you just lick me in public? That would certainly send a message."

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. "You are not funny. That is not a suggestion, that is a nightmare."

"I’m just trying to offer solutions," he said, though the smirk playing on his lips betrayed his sincerity.

"Stop smirking like that!" you shouted, your frustration bubbling over. "I am trying to have a serious conversation about my boundaries and my feelings, and you’re acting like this is a game."

He did stop, his expression smoothing out, but that smug glint remained in his eyes. He seemed genuinely flustered, perhaps even a bit excited by the sight of you so worked up. "I am taking it seriously. But you have to admit, seeing you get this jealous over me... it’s not exactly easy to stay stoic."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you muttered, brushing past him with a huff. The tension in your shoulders was unbearable, and you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get away from his infuriatingly calm demeanor. "I’m going to shower. And stay out of there, unless you want me to bite your head off."

You marched toward the bathroom, your heels clicking sharply against the tile. You were already reaching for the door handle when you heard his footsteps trailing right behind you.

"Why don't I just join you?" he asked, his voice now thick with that familiar, predatory playfulness.

You spun around, glaring at him with every ounce of willpower you had left. "Are you deaf? I told you I’m still very mad at you!"

San didn't look deterred in the slightest. He leaned against the doorframe, a low, frustrated groan rumbling in his chest as he took in your flushed, angry face. A hungry, intense look took over his features, and he gave you a slow, deliberate nod.

"Even better," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous, promise-filled rasp.

Mingi

The walk from the front door to the living room was marked by the rhythmic, squelching sound of your soaked shoes against the floorboards. You were shivering, your hair plastered to your neck in dark, heavy strands, and every muscle in your body felt tight with cold and irritation. Mingi was trailing behind you, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides as he tried to find the words to mitigate the disaster.

You didn’t give him the chance. With a sharp, aggressive movement, you peeled off your sodden jacket. It was heavy with rainwater, and you didn't hesitate to toss it directly at his chest. It landed with a wet thud against him, and he caught it instinctively, his expression crumpled with guilt.

"Fifteen minutes, Mingi," you snapped, your voice shaking slightly, though not just from the chill. "Fifteen minutes I spent standing on that platform in the pouring rain. I was freezing, I was miserable, and I had no idea if you were even coming."

Mingi shifted, looking down at his boots before meeting your eyes. "I know, I’m so sorry. I swear, it wasn't on purpose. We were working on the bridge for the new choreography, and I just—I got so distracted, I lost track of everything. I didn't even realize how much time had passed until I looked at my phone and saw your missed calls."

"I don't care about the choreography!" you shouted, gesturing wildly to the water dripping from your hair. "I care that I’m standing here soaking wet and shivering because you couldn't be bothered to set a simple alarm."

You looked down, your eyes widening as the reality of your state finally hit you. Your thin white blouse was completely saturated, clinging to your skin like a second layer and becoming entirely transparent. You felt humiliated and exposed, the cold air hitting your skin through the wet fabric. You looked up at Mingi, your eyes blazing.

"Look at me," you commanded, gesturing to your drenched form. "Do you see this? I look like I just stepped out of a wet t-shirt contest. I am humiliated, I’m freezing, and it is entirely your fault."

Mingi’s eyes dropped from your face, trailing slowly down your torso. His breath hitched, and his entire demeanor shifted. The guilt in his eyes was rapidly being replaced by a dark, intense heat. His gaze was heavy, lingering on every curve that the water had so blatantly revealed. He didn't even try to hide it; he stood there, watching you with an intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller and much, much warmer. He let out a low, involuntary groan, his hands tightening around the wet jacket he was still holding.

Your face twisted in disgust as you realized exactly where his focus had landed. "Pervert," you hissed.

You grabbed the decorative pillow from the armchair and hurled it at him with all your remaining strength. It struck him square in the chest, but he barely seemed to notice. "You’re a pig, Mingi!"

You didn't wait for him to try and justify his staring. You stormed past him, your shoulder clipping his as you marched toward your bedroom. The cold water was still dripping onto the floor, but you were far more concerned with getting out of these clothes and putting as much distance as possible between you and his lecherous gaze.

"Hey," Mingi called out, his voice deeper than usual, laced with a mix of genuine worry and something much more primal. "Do you… do you need help getting out of those? I can get you a towel, or—"

His offer was cut short by the sound of your bedroom door slamming with enough force to make the pictures on the walls vibrate. You left him standing there in the middle of your living room, the damp jacket still clutched in his grip, staring at the shut door with a look of lingering, frustrated desire.

Wooyoung

The morning light filtered into the apartment, but it did nothing to brighten your mood. You had spent the better part of the night staring at the ceiling, listening to the muffled shouts and aggressive button-mashing coming from the living room as Wooyoung played games with his friends until the early hours of the morning.

When he finally emerged, looking perfectly rested and infuriatingly cheerful, you didn't hold back. You confronted him immediately, and while he offered a quick, superficial apology, his tone was dismissive. When you pushed back, his defensive wall went up, and his demeanor shifted into something sharp and combative.

"You’re always doing this," you snapped, your patience worn thin. "It’s like living with a toddler who has no concept of boundaries or volume. You act like such a brat, Wooyoung, and I am over it."

He rolled his eyes so far back into his head they nearly disappeared.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me," you warned, your voice dropping into a dangerous, low register. You turned your back on him to walk toward the kitchen, your irritation still fueling your stream of consciousness. "Honestly, the lack of respect is just unbelievable. I told you I had an early morning, but apparently, your win-loss ratio in a game is more important than your girlfriend being able to function like a human being. It’s pathetic, really."

As you ranted, you didn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice as he began to mimic your movements, pulling a ridiculous, mocking face behind your back. He contorted his features, widening his eyes and pursing his lips in a silent, taunting imitation of you.

You stopped in your tracks, glancing at the hallway mirror in front of you. You saw the entire performance reflected perfectly.

You spun around, your eyes flashing. "There is a fucking mirror right in front of me, you idiot! I can see exactly what you're doing."

Wooyoung froze, his mouth hanging open for a fraction of a second before he simply said, "Oh."

You marched back toward him, invading his personal space until he was backed against the wall. "Let me be crystal clear, Wooyoung. Do not mess with my sleep schedule again. If you think I’m annoying now, just wait. If I don't get my rest, I will become your absolute worst nightmare. You have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m exhausted and irritable."

Instead of looking intimidated, a slow, predatory smirk crept across his face. He looked you up and down, his eyes dark with amusement. "You know... I really like it when you’re angry like this."

You bristled, your chest heaving with indignation. "Keep acting like this, and I promise you, I’m going to get even angrier. I’m not playing, Wooyoung."

He nodded, leaning in slightly as if encouraging you to continue. "It’s actually very hot, you know. When you get all bossy and start making threats? It’s a great look on you."

You stared at him in utter disgust, your face heating up with a mix of genuine rage and disbelief. "You are twisted. Seriously, something is wrong with you. Keep pushing me, and I swear, I’m going to suffocate you with a pillow tonight while you’re sleeping."

Wooyoung’s expression brightened, and his smile became wide and blindingly genuine. He didn't even blink at the threat; instead, he laughed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Is that right? Well, I’m all in for new kinks, babe. Whenever you’re ready."

Jongho

The front door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the noise of the city, but it did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside your chest. You tossed your purse onto the entryway table with a resounding thud, still vibrating with the remnants of the argument you’d just had at the bakery.

"I still can’t believe her," you muttered, pacing the small hallway. "She had the audacity to push right in front of me like I didn't exist! And then she had the nerve to act like I was the one being difficult when I called her out. It was infuriating, Jongho!"

Jongho simply stood by the door, hanging up his coat with his usual, infuriatingly steady rhythm. He looked entirely unbothered, his expression smooth and calm as a lake. "People can be entitled sometimes. It wasn't worth the stress, though."

You spun around to face him, your eyes narrowing. "That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You were standing right there, and you didn't say a word! You just watched me handle it alone."

Jongho sighed, keeping his voice low and measured. "What were you expecting me to do, exactly? It’s a bakery line. We got our bread, we left. It’s over."

"I expected you to stand up for me!" you snapped, your voice rising in pitch. "You could have defended me, or at least shown a little bit of support instead of just standing there like a statue. It’s always like this—you’re so composed, so damn chill, while I’m the one out here losing my mind over the smallest things. Do you ever feel anything, or is it all just logic with you?"

He looked at you, a small, knowing chuckle escaping his lips. He moved closer, leaning against the doorframe with an air of relaxed confidence that only served to fuel your fire. "I think it works out, honestly. We balance each other perfectly. You’re the fire, and I’m the one who makes sure we don't actually burn the house down. It’s a good system."

Your breath hitched. "A 'system'? Is that all we are? And what is that supposed to mean, anyway? Are you saying I’m too emotional?"

He shook his head quickly, his expression softening, though that maddeningly calm glint remained in his eyes. "That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’re just passionate. I like that about you."

You didn't want to hear it. You let out an angry huff and marched into the bathroom, grabbing your hairbrush with a grip so tight your knuckles turned white. You started yanking the brush through your hair, the motion sharp and erratic as you continued your tirade.

"You’re just a rock," you grumbled, half to yourself and half to his reflection in the mirror. "You have no heart, no reaction, no pulse. You just watch me get worked up and you stand there like you’re observing a weather pattern. It’s honestly exhausting being with someone so… unbothered."

Jongho didn't move. He stayed right where he was, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched you intently, his gaze heavy and focused, tracking every movement of your hand and every flicker of annoyance on your face. He didn't interrupt; he didn't offer any more logical justifications.

Instead, he watched you with a look of quiet, intense fascination. As you continued to ramble, your movements became more animated, your passion spilling out into every word. He began to bite his lower lip, his eyes darkening as he watched the flush crawl up your neck.

He didn't seem to hear a single word of your insults. He simply stood there, clearly enjoying the sight of your unbridled energy.

The rain starts just as the streetlights flicker on.

You don’t say anything at first. You just look up—watching the sky blur into silver strings—and exhale a quiet laugh. Figures. Of course it rains the one day you forget your umbrella.

“Y/N?” Riku’s voice cuts through the soft patter. You blink, and he’s already stepping closer, a navy umbrella in hand. His hair’s slightly damp from the few drops that caught him before he opened it.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he mumbles, pushing the umbrella toward you.

You hesitate. “What about you?”

He smiles, easy and small. “I’m not letting you walk home in this alone.”

You both fit beneath the umbrella, but just barely. Your shoulders brush every time he shifts. And he shifts a lot—clearing his throat, glancing sideways at you like he wants to say something but can’t find the right moment.

So you talk about everything else. What your teacher said today. That stray cat you keep seeing outside the convenience store. The strawberry bread you brought him last week and how he’s been craving it since.

And still, he keeps glancing over. Like he wants to say more.

Finally, at the crosswalk, he murmurs it: “You know… if it rains again tomorrow, I won’t mind.”

You look at him. “Why?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze. Just shrugs a little and says, “I’ll get to walk you home again.”

Your heart skips. Just once. But loud enough that the silence feels full.

In shock, wouldn’t be a safe word to use. You were filled with mixed emotions. You and Taehyung have been trying for almost a year now. You were almost certain you couldn’t conceive. Your periods have never been regular and it wasn’t an easy feat through when your menstruation cycle was around. So you had told Taehyung about your thoughts about having kids. Back then, the both of you were dating, and you knew Taehyung was big on having a family. 

“Tae-”

“No, Y/N. It’s alright. We try and if we can’t, it’s okay.” Taehyung soothed you.

“But I know that you really want kids and I don’t think I will be able to give them to you.” Your doctors have told you that your body has been weak since young and due to the accumulated stress, it did not do the growth of your body well.

“Y/N,” Taehyung cupped your face, bringing it closer to his. He suddenly squished your cheeks, making your eyes widen in surprise. “All I need is you.”

Staring at the three tests on the washroom counter, you had to physically hold yourself up by gripping onto the edges of the sink. You needed to make sure - make sure that it was real before you go running to tell your husband. 

So you booked an appointment with your doctors and they told you the same thing the tests did. 

“Around seven weeks.” Dr Kim had given you a soft smile, handing you the pictures of the ultrasound scan. 

You headed out of the hospital after payment, brain yet to comprehend the knowledge you were given in a span of twenty minutes. You needed to tell Tae. Taehyung was the only thing on your mind.  

Staring back down at your ultrasound scan, you truly couldn’t believe your eyes. 

You headed to the nearest crafting store, picking out a ball of yarn, boxes, and crafting paper. Heading home, you were more careful than usual, afraid any sudden movements might hurt your child. Albit dumb if you were to tell your parents about what you were doing, but you couldn’t help but feel a little overprotective of the life growing inside you. 

It was a little past four in the afternoon and you decided to take a bath to get rid of the hospital smell. After drying your hair, you turned the television on and knitted while watching the latest ‘Run BTS!’. 

You stopped knitting after a while, placing your hand on your currently unnoticeable bump, saying, “That’s your dad and uncles. When you come into this world, you sure are going to be spoiled rotten.” You chuckled. You were the first among the girls to have gotten pregnant as of the information yesterday. 

You had told Hwani, Jin’s wife, three days ago. News spread fast within the group but you were more surprised that the boys had yet to catch on, seemingly that all their girlfriends and wives were gossiping over baby materials. 

Once you finished the little gift, you placed it in the box onto some crafting paper and the ultrasound. Wrapping the box with a ribbon, you proceeded to the kitchen to make dinner. Small, sharp barks could be heard as you walked to the kitchen. 

You bent down to collect Yeotan’s bowls. He was extremely chirpy today, following you everywhere and constantly going in between your legs. If you hadn’t known better, you would have said he was being protective. Placing his food bowls back into the tray, you gave Yeotan a scratch between his ears. 

Just as you finished setting the table, the door code chimed and Yeotan’s uncontrollable barking started again. You wiped your hands dry on your shirt as you walked out, greeting Taehyung with a kiss at the threshold of the main door. 

“Well, it’s not like I don’t like it. Rather the opposite, honestly. But I’m tired Jagiya. I don’t think I can do it today.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t I just kiss my husband when he gets home?”

Taehyung looked at you suspiciously. “Of course you can but you normally have an ulterior motive.”

Let’s talk about selective hearing. It refers to hearing what you choose to hear and blank out everything else. You ignored the second half of the sentence, pulling your whiny husband to the living room and plopping him down onto the sofa. 

“Babe…” He called you warningly.

You headed over to the coffee table, carefully picking up the elegantly wrapped gift and placing it in his hands. Taehyung’s brows shot up, disappearing between his hair. 

“What’s this?” He took out his phone, confusion showing on his face. Oh, he’s always been an expressive one. “I don’t think I forgot anything? I swear today - is it our anni - wait no, that’s in three weeks.” Taehyung looked up with a face you knew too well.

The TaTa Mic face.

“Babe, I swear if I forgot anything, I’ll make it up to you.”

You sighed, caving into the look. If ARMY can’t even grasp a standing ground to the Tata Mic face, you surely stand an even lesser chance against it. 

“You didn’t forget anything, love.” You pointed back to the box. “Just.. Just open it.”

Taking a deep breath, you watch as Taehyung undoes the ribbon and opens the box. Watched as his brows furrowed even more, lip jutting out in a pout at the sight of the mittens you have knitted this afternoon. Watched as the gears in his brain turned the moment his eyes spotted the ultrasound picture beneath it. And as if in slow motion, you saw Taehyung’s eyes enlarge the moment the pieces clicked together. 

His head shot up so fast you were afraid he got a whiplash. 

“Serious? Serious!” Taehyung dropped to his knees. Thank god there was a carpet on the floor. His hands were shaking as you grasped them in yours, placing them on your stomach. “Jagiya, Jagiya, you aren’t kidding with me, right?”

His eyes shone with so much light that it was blinding to see. 

You shook your head. 

“We’re going to be parents, Tae.” Your voice wavered, tears coming forth, spilling over onto your cheeks. 

Taehyung looked down at your hands cupping your stomach and stared at it. He lifted your shirt in one motion, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. He brought his lips to your stomach, kissing it gently. 

“Hi, babyyyy…” Taehyung cooed. “You’re going to be the prettiest baby ever.”

You chuckled. 

Taehyung got up from his knees, cupping your face and kissing your lips. “And you are going to be the best mom ever.” 

“How do you know that?” You asked between his never-ending kisses. 

Leaning your foreheads together, Taehyung answered in his most famous way, “‘Cause it’s you.”

You smiled. 

At that moment, you were surrounded by love. You have never felt so high on such a joyous emotion before. As you looked down at Taehyung talking to your stomach, you felt so, so, so, grateful for the future you created together. Through thick and thin, the both of you have found a way to strengthen your connection, working together. 

The warmth of his love and joy radiates the whole house. And as your eyes locked, it was as if nothing else mattered at that moment - only you, Tae, and your unborn baby. Time seemed to still as the both of you looked at each other, so much affection and excitement in one’s eyes. 

And you knew - you just knew - that you were going to be okay. That as long as you had Tae by your side, you were going to be okay. 

As the both of you got up from the sofa, Tae suddenly pulled you into his arms, stopping you from walking any further from him. “You know what I said just now at the door? I take it back. I can definitely do it today.”

Your cheeks turned deep red as you smacked his arms. 

“Kim Taehyung!”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re alright.”

Jisoo shrugged off your weird behavior and devoted herself to her lunch in front of her. Just as she wanted to bite into her sandwich though, you suddenly shrieked beside her causing her to whip her head around in shock. Your whole tray was suddenly flooded with the liquid that was supposed to be in your cup, soaking whatever food had been on your plate.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I accidentally knocked over my cup.”

You stuttered, causing Jisoo to roll her eyes, feigning to be annoyed.

“You’re so clumsy.”

She growled jokingly before reaching over you to pick up the napkins beside you. Just as her hand passed your face, however, you flinched instinctively, shielding yourself as if you expected her to hit you. Baffled, Jisoo stilled her movement and looked at you. Only now she realized that you were actually trembling in fear, and she reflexively removed herself from you. Silence settled between the two of you as you were still avoiding her gaze, making Jisoo absolutely stumped for words. Is that what you thought of her? She couldn’t help but to feel hurt but also betrayed by you at the same time; two feelings that she absolutely loathed. Irritated, she scoffed before leaning back to have a better look at you.

“Are you serious? Why are you flinching? I was nothing but nice to you.”

She asked annoyed, crossing her arms defensively. But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. The fear in your face suddenly faded and you met her gaze provocatively. She could see anger in your eyes and an unsettling feeling spread in her stomach.

“Why am I flinching?” You spat out angrily before pushing your chair back with force as you stood up, causing it to fall over with a loud thump. “Because you’re a psychopath! Do you really believe after everything that you’ve done to my friends and me that I could ever trust you? I hate you!”

You yelled, causing the whole cafeteria to look at the two of you. But Jisoo couldn’t care less about the others or her reputation right now. Your words had hit her harder than any punch and she watched completely stunned how you stormed off. From the corner of her eye, she could see that her friends were looking expectantly at her, waiting for some kind of order, but Jisoo was at a loss for words. She hadn’t believed that it was possible for something to faze her like this, but maybe she had lied to herself about that like she had lied to herself about your relationship. Of course, there had been that tiny voice in her head that had told her that you were only staying by her side out of fear. But a much bigger part of herself had hoped that maybe she could prove to you that she wasn’t all that bad. She had hoped that you could be the one that could see the good in her and make her a better person.

Had that just been a foolish hope?

Jennie

Jennie knew that she should be satisfied. After her little attack on you, you seemed to be reminded of your place in the hierarchy and completely disappeared off her radar. She neither saw you in the cafeteria anymore nor walking around the hallways. It should have been the perfect solution for her problem; out of sight, out of mind, right? But she couldn’t have been more wrong. In fact, she even found herself thinking about you even more than before now that she couldn’t keep an eye on you. What if the others had seriously hurt you? Were you in the hospital? Or had you even switched schools? The uncertainty about you was slowly killing her until she was nothing but a nervous wreck.

She needed to see you again.

That’s why she found herself lurking behind some bushes in front of the skatepark today. This wasn’t her territory anymore which meant that she had no power here, especially not without her gang, but from her time observing you, she knew that this was the place that you and your friends could most likely be found after school. It was a risk being here, but it was a risk that she was more than willing to take for you. Nervously, Jennie waited behind the bushes, keeping an eye on everyone leaving and entering the skatepark. Till now there was no trace of you, which didn’t really help her anxiety. Gruesome pictures of you lying in a hospital bed, beaten black and blue by her friends, kept popping up in her brain, causing her to feel nauseous. She was about to bolt in an attempt to outrun her feelings when a familiar laugh made her yank up her head at last. With relief she saw that you and your friends were rounding the corner of the closest building, walking towards the skatepark. Attentively, Jennie scanned your whole body, finding to her delight that you were looking completely fine. Maybe the rings under your eye were a little darker than usual, but you were smiling widely, and it didn’t seem like her friends had left any lasting damage on you.

For a while, Jennie simply kept observing you and your friends. You sat down on a bench, watching some skaters that you seemed to know. It made Jennie’s heart flutter to see you this happy and no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she was behaving like a fool right now, she couldn’t rip her gaze from you. After several people had looked weirdly at her though, she eventually decided that it was time to leave and stop being a creepy stalker.

She had seen you and made sure that you were ok; she should be satisfied now.

Her feet, however, didn’t seem to agree with her brain. They firmly stayed in place as her heart told her to approach you. What was the use of knowing that you were fine when she couldn’t see you in school anymore? Without having thought about any elaborate plan of action, Jennie already found herself walking towards you, causing her breath to get quicker with every step that she was taking. When she eventually ended up standing in front of you, she felt close to passing out as her heart was almost jumping out of her chest. Nervously, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other because you were still agitatedly talking with your friends, not taking any notice of her.

“Um...Y/N?”

Jennie cleared her throat, causing you and your friends to look at her. The second you realized who was standing in front of you, all color drained from your face. Bashfully, Jennie clasped her hands and avoided your gaze.

“H-how are you?”

She stuttered, feeling dumb for asking such a mundane question.

You still seemed to be completely dumbfounded by her appearance though and speechlessly stared at her. Your friends, on the other hand, seemed to have overcome their shock a lot quicker than you and threw deathly glares at her, making Jennie even more nervous. She would be completely helpless if they decided to take revenge for you. It was definitely time for her to leave.

“Listen, Y/N. I’m just here to apologize. I’m sorry for pouncing on you. That was uncalled for. It will never happen again, I promise.”

Jennie rattled off in lightning speed before searching for your eyes one last time. You seemed to be more confused than ever, and Jennie suddenly felt stupid for standing in front of you right now. What had she been thinking? Had she really thought that you could forgive her after what she had done? An overwhelming feeling of shame overcame her at once and she quickly averted her gaze again.

“I’m sorry.”

She sputtered before turning on her heel and running away.

What were you only doing to her?

Rosé

“I don’t know where this is suddenly coming from, Chaeyoung, but you surely need to fix your grades before being able to join the squad again. You can say goodbye to practice for now and instead you’ll be taking more tutoring lessons.”

Chaeyoung’s head coach grumbled, probably thinking that Chaeyoung would be devastated by her words. Instead, she couldn’t be happier though. Her plan had worked perfectly. In less than a month, she had managed to absolutely ruin her grades on purpose, so that she could spend more time with you. Not wanting to seem disrespectful though, she quickly put on a rueful expression and lowered her head.

“I understand, coach. I promise I will give 100%, so I can join the squad as soon as possible again.”

She lied, but her coach seemed to buy her every word and patted her shoulder encouragingly. After apologizing once more, Chaeyoung quickly fled the scene to sign up for more tutoring lessons with you. To her dismay, all of your lessons were already taken by other students, but Chaeyoung didn’t let her plan be ruined by that. Annoyed she crossed out all the other names and replaced them with her own name. The others weren’t good enough for you anyways.

The day of your first lecture wasn’t long in coming, but Chaeyoung still barely managed to sit through her classes that day. As soon as the last bell rang, she sprinted to the library to finally be able to see you. The moment she stepped into the room though, her good mood vanished into thin air, because another girl -that seemed to be way too close with you- was talking to you. Annoyed, Chaeyoung made her way to the two of you, but you barely paid any attention to her.

“It’s not your turn today.”

You simply said, not bothering to look at her. Chaeyoung’s annoyance grew by the second, but she knew that she probably deserved to be given the cold shoulder by you for a while, so she tried to stay calm.

“My name’s on the list though.”

She grinned smugly in an attempt to charm you, but her charms didn’t seem to work on you.

“No it’s not, because it seems like someone simply unsolicited crossed out all the other names.”

You grumbled, your discontent clearly being audible in your voice.

“I know nothing about that. Are you sure that’s what happened?”

Chaeyoung replied sweetly, feigning to be innocent.

“I don’t know, let’s ask one of the affected persons. Did you cross out your name off the list?”

You turned your attention to the girl standing next to you who shook her head hesitantly despite Chaeyoung’s attempt to force her to lie by staring her down. Anger instantly made Chaeyoung’s face turn red, and she pounced forward.

“Listen here, you little...”

She gritted through her teeth while dashing forward, but before she could reach the girl or finish her sentence, your stern voice caused her to freeze.

“Chaeyoung!”

You grumbled, making her feel like a child that was being scolded. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but to immediately stop all her plans. She was here to make up for what she had done after all. Bashfully, she stepped back and crossed her arms, opting to simply throw death glares at the girl.

“I don’t accept any kind of violence here. My lessons are allocated according to the first come, first serve principle. So if the list was already full, you’ll either have to accept that or politely ask one of my other students to switch tutors.”

You added, making Chaeyoung wonder when she had started to allow people to talk to her like that. The other students in school weren’t even daring to disagree with her, but you lectured her like some weak subordinate. No matter how hard she tried to unleash her arbitrary tendencies that made everyone in this school quiver though, she couldn’t get mad at you. All she wanted was your forgiveness. In defeat, she let her arms fall to her sides and looked at the other girl reluctantly.

“I’m sorry for...this little incident. What I wanted to ask was if you’d mind signing up for another tutor. I really appreciate Y/N’s lessons and would love to continue working where we have left of.”

She softened her voice significantly, yet the girl still didn’t seem to have forgotten the proper way to talk to her as she nodded without hesitation.

“Of course, I’ll sign up for someone else.”

She breathed before immediately grabbing her stuff and bolting out of the library. Satisfied, Chaeyoung grinned to herself before bashfully lowering her gaze when she noticed that you were sternly looking at her.

“No games, no insults, no bothering the other people in this room. I’m telling you, if you’re not taking these lessons serious, I’m dropping you and you can see yourself how you’ll get back to your squad.”

You warned her and Chaeyoung instantly nodded in agreement. It wouldn’t be easy to juggle everything; you and her friends, being good for you and keeping her reputation. But she was absolutely sure that she would do everything to treat you right this time.

Lalisa

“Is it broken?”

You flinched in surprise when Lisa suddenly appeared next to your table out of nowhere. Your eyes were wide, and your mouth hung open although you didn’t make a single sound.

“W-what?”

You eventually managed to stutter, and Lisa huffed in annoyance because of your unreasonable fear of her.

“Your nose. Is it broken?”

She repeated her question, and you automatically lifted your hand to stroke the back of your nose softly. It was dark blue, and it seemed like your bridge was double its usual size, but Lisa thought that even in this state you looked better than most people she knew.

“Yeah...”

You grumbled, causing a turmoil of feelings to break lose inside of Lisa. On the one hand, she had to suppress the overbearing feeling to pull you into her arms to comfort you and on the other hand, she regretted not having punished the boy that had hurt you more. Subconsciously, she clenched her fists, thinking about a way to take revenge for you later, but as if you could read her thoughts, you suddenly piped up again.

“It’s not that bad though. The bone is still in place, so I’ll just have to be a bit more careful in the next weeks and it will heal all by itself.”

You explained, managing to make Lisa feel a bit better.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She replied without thinking before realizing in shock what she had just said. Had she, Lisa Manoban, the feared ruler of this school just told you that she was glad that your injury wasn’t that bad?

“I mean...I’m-I’m glad that I’ll soon be able again to hurt you.”

She added in a desperate attempt to save her reputation, knowing fully well that the damage had already been done. The look on your face told her that you knew what she had truly meant with her words, so she turned on her heel and ran away to flee the awkwardness of the situation.

What was wrong with her?

While pacing up and down the schoolyard, Lisa couldn’t stop memories from flooding her brain. The pain that she had felt when she saw that you were hurt, the unbearable anxiety that had tormented her after you were taking out of the gym and at last, the relief of knowing that you would soon be fine again. She had always known that you were somewhat special to her; no one was more fun to tease after all. But what was it that made you so special? Not being able to come up with an answer, or at least not with one that she liked, Lisa wasted her entire time until lunch break, thinking about you. Only when the bell rang, causing other students to crowd the schoolyard, she finally disrupted her train of thought in order to grab something to eat.

The hallways were absolutely flooded, causing people to bump into each other left and right. Lisa didn’t have to worry about anyone crossing her path though. The moment the others noticed her, they instantly steered clear of her, too afraid of being the recipient of another one of her temper tantrums. Usually Lisa savored the fear of the others with relish, yet today, her mind was too occupied with something else to truly enjoy the moment. All that she could think about was –once again– you. Were your friends making sure that no one would bump into you? Automatically, Lisa started scanning the back of the heads of the students in front of her until she spotted a familiar one. With no regard for the others, she started pushing her way through the crowd until she was right behind you. To her dismay, she noticed that no one was really paying attention to you or your injury. Instead, you were just another piece of driftwood caught in the stream, being roughly shoved from all sides. Reflexively, Lisa grabbed your wrist in order to pull you next to her, causing you to stare at her with wide eyes again. She didn’t really have time to explain herself though as another student ignorantly brushed past you, not caring that he almost knocked you over in the process.

“Hey! Could you be more careful?? Y/N here has a broken nose!”

Gripping onto the strap of your backpack you had no idea you were being followed, although, in the end it was not something or in this case, someone frightening. It was none other than Sunoo, the boy who you've known since you were a child. He was a year younger than you, and you had basically taken the role of an older sister whenever you two were together. You two were very close to each other and cared for one another dearly as if you only had each other to depend on.

Sunoo who had watched you from far and was now almost racing to get near you. "Y/N noona" he called, out of breath after chasing you the last block. You turn around, eyes locked on his, which reminds you of a fox, a gentle smile on his lips. You smile back, happy to his energized self in the morning.

"HI, good morning foxy" you stretch out your hand to ruffle his hair, earning a displeased groan. "Noona" He whines, rather cutely. "You're ruining my hair" he continued, softly adjusting his hair. "You look cuter like this Sunoo" You gushed, you hadn't noticed the blush on the boy's cheeks, a hint of red spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears as you went back to walking leaving the poor feverish boy behind you.

He hurried to catch up with you, taking big steps until he was beside you once more, trying his best to act nonchalant. "Ah, noona. I heard we're having a gathering today to welcome the freshmen at Dazed's tonight" he tells you, excitement seething from his voice as he bounces around. "Are you going to get drunk at Dazed again?" you laugh, you miss the glare he gives you, bumping his shoulder to yours. "I was not drunk. And it was not that bad" He defended himself, you looked at him dubious, memories of the last time you too went out to drink flooding your mind.

You shiver with a chuckle, that night was to welcome you and Sunoo had gotten way too excited for his own wellbeing but who could blame his, his favorite senior was back after a break with a few of other seniors, Jay, Sunghoon and Jake. How you had managed to convince those 3 to travel around the world with you was an absolute confusing thing for his brain, especially Jay who was very considerate of his parent's opinions and his grades.

Jay had been the best student, SungHoon following close behind and you and Jake did your best at keeping the grades good but never stressing to study too hard and just keeping it to the B's and a few A's. Nevertheless, you four had managed to travel all around Europe, America and Asia before you came back.

And once you were back Sunoo just refused to leave your side and kept bringing you everywhere to meet everyone he had met whilst you were gone, and he finished his first year. That night at Dazed's he had drank too much, whenever someone tried to make you drink he would also drink with you and just clung to you the whole night, sending nasty glares to those who tries to take you away.

You snap back to reality, a smile on your lips as you eye the male walking besides you cheerfully. "Let's just get to class before the professor sends us out" Sunoo smiles tightly in agreement, hand on your arm pulling you faster to your class.

The classes were over rather quickly, and you found yourself staring out onto the field in front of your university, a few of the new students being praxed outside. You could see the freshmen on their knees, hands behind their backs as the seniors stood in front of them, likely yelling something to them. Your eyes caught on a male, tall and with black hair, you couldn't quite see his face as he was too far away but you could tell he was young and had big eyes.

"The praxe this year seems way easier than it was last year for me, I wonder if they'll also have to crawl around the floor like we had to" you hear Sunoo's voice from besides you, you cringe at the thought of making people crawl. You hadn't attended praxe, you decided not to follow through with it, and even so, you still made friends with the seniors and those in your course. You just weren't expected at the dinner parties, but then again you barely left your dorm room to go out and party until early hours.

"I still can't believe you let those people yell at you and command you to do such things" he shrugs in response. "It was fun. And I got to hang out with the seniors and get their class appointments" he smiles smugly. "The seniors have been saying that, that one" he points at the boy you had just been looking at, "That one is their favorite. He's the most innocent one too" eyes glued to the boy you observed as he nodded to a senior, standing up in a hurry, eyes facing the ground as the female senior pet his head.

"Will he be going to the dinner?" You wondered, still staring at the boy. From besides you, Sunoo observed with a smirk. "He might if I ask him to" he replied. You hummed, face turning back to the board, both teacher and students long gone from the classroom. "If he goes, will you go?" Sunoo settles on top of the desk in front of you, who leans back to give him space in front of you. "I might"

~~

You take a quick shower once you get home, you had a little over an hour until the dinner, which was at 8pm, so you were ahead of time. You hadn't been quite sure of the theme of the dinner, but Bomi had definitely said that it wasn't just a casual dinner.

Grabbing onto your black pencil skirt you grabbed onto your off shoulder white body and put the clothes on, heading back to the bathroom to put your contact lenses and do your makeup. Turning back to the vanity in your bedroom you grabbed your phone dialing Sunoo's number so to ask what he'd be wearing and at what time to be there.

By now, it was already too late to change the course of your makeup and after texting with Bomi who would be attending in her black velvet dress you decided that you were more than well-dressed, or at least good enough for this dinner. But here is the issue, it was 9:30, and you had just finished putting on your high heels when you get a call from your friend Jay asking where you were and if you wanted him to save you a seat.

Rather confused you inquired why the sudden questions until he said they would start to sit down... Sunoo had told you the dinner was at 8pm, it was not at the time, it was in fact at 7:30, and you were now late.

"Stupid Sunoo... Ha... uh, yes. Save me a seat, I'll be leaving now" you hurriedly told Jay, grabbing onto your purse and putting your essentials inside before exiting your dorm, basically running downstairs, getting into your car and trying your best to be safe while driving whilst also stepping on the pedal to get there faster.

You got to the restaurant in the new time of 15 minutes and hurried inside after locking your car. Everyone was already sitting down and once you walked in heads turned to you, a few of them cheering and others waving, and you greeted everyone before finally sitting down beside Jay who got up to pull the chair out and helped you sit.

"Thank you" you whispered to him, he nods, a small smile on his lips as he puts his hand behind your chair continuing on his chat with Sunghoon who was in front of him. You looked around, eyes finally landing on the boy in front of you. None other than the boy from that same morning. Up close, he looked quite a lot like a cat with his eyes and cute demeanor, you stared as he spoke to Bomi who sat beside him, his dimple showing whenever he smiled at her.

Hair parted down the middle the boy chatted enthusiastically within the group, it was easy to see why he was their favorite. As if he could feel your burning stare his eyes locked on your curious ones, a hint of satisfaction passing through his iris. "Hello, sunbaenim. My name is Yang Jungwon" He introduced himself with a smile. You, too, introduced yourself, he nods, eyes never leaving yours.

"Well, everyone's here. Let's start with our introductions to our new freshmen" One of the seniors sitting at the end of the table stands up to raise his cup, everyone following suit. And as everyone introduced themselves, you could feel Jungwon's eyes still on you. "You good?" Jay's voice reaches your ear from your right, you turn you head down to listen to him, nodding with a laugh. "I'm fine" you assure the worried man.

Maybe it was the closeness, maybe it was the fact that you laughed and got closer, but something in Jungwon itched to step in between you two, and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. But it bothered him. Although it shouldn't.

"Jungwon" one of the seniors called out to the boy who snapped back, eyes searching for whoever had called him. "Introduce yourself" The person repeated, Jungwon gulped dryly, nodding submissively. "Yang Jungwon. I was born in 2004, I used to be an athlete, and I'm from Gwanak-gu" he said, eyes looking around the table before it turned to you. "What sport did you do?" Jay asked curious. "Taekwondo" you nodded astonished.

"Y/N. Born in 2002, I took a break to travel around the world with 3 other idiots, and now we're all back to continue studying. And I'm from Seoul. Where, you don't need to know" you smile sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink. The freshmen laugh whilst the seniors, already used simply dismissed your attitude. "If anyone needs something of any subject just question Y/N or her friends for help. They're the smartest in the course" Bomi tells the younger ones.

"Then, noona. Can you help me with a work tomorrow?" Jungwon asks, your eyes widen, choking on your drink. "Me? Sure" You agree to it in a shock, hiding your growing blush with your cup. "I thought noona was dating Jay hyung" another one of the freshmen grumbled at the end of the table, eyebrows furrowed as they looked at Jungwon who sat proudly in his chair.

"I'm surprised you said yes" Jay says, you turn to look at him wondering what he had meant. "You usually don't go for younger men" he shrugs, your ears flush, you swat his arm trying to quiet him, but it doesn't die down as others tune in to hear. "I never said I was going for him. Shut up" you grit through your teeth. "Oh please. I saw you two" he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Noona, have you finally given in to the charm of cute boys?" Sunoo teased a few seats down. "Shut it Kim Sunoo. I'm just going to help with his work"

You definitely were infatuated with this boy, you didn't know if it would be a short-lived thing, but you were certain that you wanted to discover whatever it could be. So the very next day, like planned you left your dorm and headed towards the study rooms in the university to meet up with Jungwon.

It didn't take you long to find you, a book in his hand as he stood tall looking around the library, eyes big as he tried to find you, you smiled. Walking faster to reach him you placed your hand on his shoulder jolting him from his place. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you" you covered your laugh, he shook his head, calming from the scare.

"I found an empty room" he smiled guiding you to the place he had last seen an empty place. And sure it could've been empty, but it was no longer dark and closed... but rather with a couple of people inside studying. He sighed, a pout eminent in his lips as he turned to you. "I'm sorry, I guess it was taken" you shook your head grabbing his arm.

"I'll take you to a better place" you assured him leading him out of the library and inside one of the university buildings, going to a basically abandoned place further from the entrance where almost no students went to.

Settling your things down on one of the clean desks you sat on the chair, motioning for Jungwon to sit beside you. "What do you need help with?" "Noona, are you single?" He questioned straight forward, you stared in shock, merely nodding at him, a smile stretching in his face. "I'm glad" he whispered looking down at his lap.

"I think you're very beautiful. I want to get to know you" he mumbled, eyes raising to look at yours. "You're adorable" you chuckle. "Sure, let's get to know each other, then. But about the work. Do you really need help?" you question, he shakes his head once again. "No, I just wanted to be alone with you" he confessed shyly. "Come on then" you smile standing up and grabbing your things exiting the room.

"Where?" he asks confused, catching up with you. "Lunch. To get to know each other better"