Euijoo raises his hands placatingly, the breeze stirring his coral-toned hair in a way that would have made you melt in the past.
But the past is the past for a reason. Things have changed.
"Of course it does," you snap, lifting your sword to brandish it. "This was never going to work out, Byun. If you're not on our side, you're on theirs. If you're on theirs, then you're my enemy."
"I'm not going to fight you," he insists, his own sword noticeably sheathed by his side. "I won't. Fall back and come with me. We can end the war without casualties on either end."
"Fall back?" Your laugh comes out more like a snarl. "No. Blood will be shed, and my people will be victorious. Draw your sword and fight me!"
"I won't." Euijoo's face darkens, but he remains firm. "I'll do whatever it takes to get you to come with me, lovely."
"Don't call me that!" You lunge, your sword sweeping in an arc of steel. Euijoo dodges with a low sound, his fighting leathers gleaming in the light of the setting sun.
Your grip tightens on the hilt of the blade, sweat soaking you down to the skin of your neck. You angle the blade and strike once more, twice. Euijoo only dodges and weaves, his eyes striken with something of grief. Resignation, perhaps.
Anger rises to the surface like a flood. How dare he be in mourning when your people are the ones suffering because of the war? His people are the ones who have been killing your comrades and destroying your kingdom, but Euijoo had always been kinder. Gentler. Against hatred, he said, but he still feels that your people are at fault for the mass destruction.
And you'd been convinced that he was different.
You yell and kick out with your leg, catching him in the side. He stumbles with a harsh intake of breath that turns into a grunt once you tackle him to the ground. His body is warm under yours; solid. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his fingers twitch from the effort of restraining himself — not from pulling out his sword, but from reaching for you.
It's almost a reflex at this point. He doesn't think you'd appreciate it, though.
"Please," he says, wide eyes shining with a quiet sort of sadness. "I'm not fighting you."
"Stop talking!" Your blade trembles in your hands.
"Lovely," he tries again. "This whole thing can end peacefully if we make it back to the square in time."
"That's not my name," you spit, your knees digging into the gravel as you straddle his waist. "And there will be no peace."
"But there could be." The raw hope in his eyes makes you flinch.
"I'll cut your throat," you threaten, pressing the point of your sword to the skin of his neck. "That'll shut you up."
Euijoo blinks. Around you, the screams of war rage on. And yet, he hardly notices.
All he notices is the wind in your sweat-soaked hair. The way your scarred hands hold the sword lethally to his throat. Your eyes, dilated with wrath and rage and terror.
He swallows. The movement shifts the blade by a single centimeter.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs.
Your breath hitches.
The sword falls into the gravel with a clang, and Euijoo starts when your weight disappears from on top of him.
By the time he makes it onto his feet, you're already gone.
warnings :: not proofread, they have a child, military au, fluff, angst, comfort, nothing else (lmk if I missed any!)
tagging @minhosimthings for obvious reasons I lov u mama
you scrubbed hard as you tried to clean off the excess cake that had dried off on your 6 year old son's plate, which he left on the dining table after gobbling it up like he had somewhere to be within a few minutes.
it was partially true. his busy busy dad had finally come home before his bedtime, which rarely happens and had also promised to play board games with him, which was again an utterly rare occurrence.
and so, sejun had the snack so quick that it made you concerned, but you let him be.
you could see the excitement in every inch of his body and actions. the giggles, the tiny hops as he skipped to his room, knowing his dad was waiting for him.
everything was running through your head as you scrubbed the last few dishes that were left. smiling to yourself, almost a chuckle of adoration leaving your lips, you pat your hands dry using the hand towel which was placed right above the sink.
a warm pair of arms wrapped around your waist, hot breath fanning your neck for a few seconds before his nose smeared against your shoulder. euijoo takes in a long breath and sighs contently, his entire body pressing against yours in the softest way possible.
your hands move to lay on his like habit, your head leaning against his, all while your heart behaves as if this small act of physical contact has happened for the first time ever.
you turn around, palms immediately cupping his face and you tip toe to kiss his nose. euijoo chuckles.
his hands grab yours gentle, bringing your right hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, eyes still staring into yours in the most loving way.
as much as his gaze was dripping with honey, you could also see something off. concern bubbled up inside you and you knew your gut was right.
you knew him extremely well to let such stuff get past your attention. there was a reason you were married to this man in the first place.
"what's wrong, ju?" you asked, gently caressing his cheeks. his round, soft eyes raked over all your features like he's doing his best to take in all of you, to know, to remember when he's gone again.
you do the same. it was a rare moment when he's not adorned with his uniform, a symbol of the country's pride. a moment where he felt like he was completely yours and not someone to be shared with the nation. a moment that reminded you of the day you fell in love with him, the breeze that allowed you to feel the courage to ask him out, heart so loud and soul so young.
you could see the swirl of emotions building up right behind his eyes. you always saw through him. you knew him like no one else did.
he sighs gently, one hand allowing his fingers to intertwine with yours, as the other cups your cheek, making you nuzzle into his warm warm touch.
"I'm going to be gone for a year, my love. I'm just... I'm not sure how i could go on for so long without seeing you, seeing our son." that's right. he was called upon to an outskirt city along the borders of your country, as a trainer for the special militant force that was being arranged for purposes unknown to you. he might be in training, or battles, or even something worse and you'd never know.
"i don't know how I'll fall asleep without holding you and breathing you in. your scent is my favourite, you know?" his fingers intertwine with yours, his lips finding his way to your knuckles once again.
"and sejun? I rarely ever spend time with him even when I'm here. now I'll be gone for a year. My heart hurts, angel." his soft voice, the little ounce of fear that laced his tone, and his words made tears swirl in your eyes.
oh you were going to miss him so dearly. infact, how would you fall asleep when he's not next to you? how could you? how could you fall asleep when his tired body doesn't settle next to you every midnight, when his soft breaths don't lull you into sleep every single time, and when you don't stare at his salient features that light up under the moonlight that seems in through your windows.
But you had to stay strong. for the sake of your loving husband and your son who's the sunshine of both your worlds. and so you swallow the lump in your throat, wrapping your arms around his tall frame, drinking in every curve of your bodies that bind around eachother so well like absolute puzzle pieces, wishing the best and just hoping he'd come back to you, all well and healthy just the way he left.
Summary: You’re too focused on your phone to notice Leehan… until he decides to make himself impossible to ignore.
You were lying on your side on your bed, the light from your phone barely illuminating your face. The show kept playing and you had your earbuds in, completely lost in your own world.
Leehan came in quietly.
“Love,” he called softly.
Nothing.
He watched you for another second, tilting his head, a small smile slipping onto his lips. He understood right away. Instead of insisting, he walked straight to the bed.
The mattress dipped beside you. You felt it, but didn’t pay it much attention. Without warning, his body settled against yours. He pressed close like it was automatic, slowly and shamelessly comfortable, intertwining his legs with yours. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
Then he rested his face against your chest, without a single hint of shame.
His warm breathing seeped through the thin fabric of your shirt, and his hair brushed against your collarbone, tickling you as if he were doing it on purpose.
You didn’t even turn around.
Leehan pursed his lips, clearly offended.
He stayed still for a few seconds… then shifted slightly, moving even closer. Exaggeratedly close. He pressed his cheek against you, like he was asking for attention.
“Wow,” he murmured. “Is this how you treat your boyfriend?”
Nothing.
A dramatic sigh left him. His arm tightened a little more around your waist, not to pull away, but the opposite. His fingers moved lazily along your side, slow and playful, like he was just… killing time.
He started leaving soft kisses over the fabric of your shirt, one after another, unhurried, as if he knew it was only a matter of seconds.
“You’re not even going to look at me?” he whispered. “Fine. I’ll stay right here until you remember me.”
He rested his forehead against you, breathing deeply, clearly pretending to be more annoyed than he really was. He even shifted his head slightly, like a cat searching for the perfect spot.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he added, smiling through his voice.
That was when your focus finally started to crack.
You glanced at him, fake-annoyed.
Leehan felt it immediately.
He smiled, satisfied, without moving an inch.
“Knew it,” he murmured. “I knew you wouldn’t last.”
He stayed there, clingy and playful, like he’d won a silent game that only he knew he was playing.
Warnings: domestic fluff, soft physical touch, mutual care, minor injury, forehead kiss, Mention of bladed weapons
Summary: A quiet Friday morning with boiling oatmeal and uncut apples. Leehan tries to take care of you
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It was seven in the morning.
Friday.
And unfortunately, in a few hours, you had to go to work.
After washing your face and leaving the bathroom, hunger hit you all at once. You walked quietly into the kitchen, careful not to make any noise. Leehan was still asleep, and you didn’t want to wake him.
You turned on the stove and put some oatmeal to boil in a small pot. While you waited, you decided to have it with apples. You washed a couple, placed them on the cutting board, and reached for a knife.
You were just about to start cutting when you felt arms wrap around your waist.
“What are you doing, baby?”
His voice was low, still sleepy.
You startled slightly and turned your head.
“What are you doing here?” you asked.
Leehan’s hair was messy, still a little damp, his eyes half-closed. He looked tired… but beautiful. Too beautiful for that early hour.
“I couldn’t find you in bed,” he murmured. “I wanted to hug you.”
He leaned in closer, resting his head in the hollow of your neck, breathing slowly. His embrace was warm and unhurried, like he hadn’t fully woken up yet.
His gaze dropped to your hands—and the knife.
“Wait… give me that,” he said gently. “I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
Your heart melted.
“I’m fine,” you replied.
“You’re hungry, right?” he added. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“I’m okay, really.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my baby,” he said seriously, though his voice remained soft. Then he looked at the apples. “You wanted them sliced, right?”
You didn’t answer. You just looked at him.
Leehan took the knife carefully and started cutting, fully focused, as if it were the most important task in the world. You turned toward the stove to check the oatmeal.
Then you heard it.
“Ouch.”
You turned around immediately.
Leehan was holding his hand, looking at you with wide, shiny eyes—like a puppy that had just gotten scolded.
“Let me see,” you said.
He walked over without arguing and showed you the small cut.
“It’s not serious,” you assured him. “I’ll just put a bandage on it.”
You opened a drawer, took one out, and placed it gently on his finger. He watched every movement in silence.
“You worry more about me than I worry about myself,” you said, lifting your gaze.
Leehan looked into your eyes.
“But I love you for that,” you continued. “And I’ll make sure to take care of you just as much as you worry about me.”
His expression softened completely. He wrapped his arms around you slowly, carefully, as if afraid to hold you too tightly, and rested his cheek against your head. He pressed a small kiss to the top of it.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
“The pot.”
Before you could react, he gently moved you aside and turned off the stove. The oatmeal was just about to boil over.
Summary: Drying his hair becomes an excuse for teasing, playful touches, and quiet moments that feel dangerously close.
🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️🤍♠️
You were in the living room, watching a series together. Leehan was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa, a towel draped around his neck. You were sitting on the sofa right behind him, holding the hair dryer and gently running your hand through his damp hair after his shower.
As you dried his hair, he tilted his head back slightly, resting the nape of his neck against your thighs. The closeness made you smile, and you couldn’t help brushing your forehead lightly against the back of his head, teasing him just a little.
“You know…” you began, adjusting his damp hair, “I’ve noticed something… sometimes, when you speak with me, you slip into your Busan dialect.”
He blinked, a little flushed, letting out a small, nervous laugh.
—“Ah… really?” —he murmured, his voice softer than usual, but with that playful undertone you loved so much.
You smiled, leaning just a little closer, resting your hands on his chest while you passed the dryer through his hair.
—“I like it. It’s… nice. And I like that you speak like that with me.”
Leehan tensed for a second, fiddling with the towel around his neck, then sighed, leaning even more against your legs.
—“Seriously?” —he asked, trying to sound serious, but the laugh trapped in his throat betrayed him—. I thought it sounded weird…
—“Not at all,” —you said, gently caressing the nape of his neck and letting your hands slide subtly down his shoulders—. It sounds like you. And I love hearing you that way.
He visibly relaxed, but didn’t lose the playful edge. With a small movement, he tilted his head to brush his cheek against your hand, letting you feel him even closer for a moment.
—“So…” —Leehan whispered, his voice low and teasing—. Then I’ll keep speaking like this, just for you.
You smiled, continuing to dry his hair, your heart beating a little faster. Between his teasing tone, the closeness of his gestures, and that subtle contact, it felt like the whole room melted away around the two of you.
Members: BOYNEXTDOOR x Reader. Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life. Content Warnings: Emotional tension, gentle physical contact, nervousness, lingering glances, closeness. Summary: The first time you stay over at his place. Shorts, one of his shirts, and way too much closeness. He swears he’s trying to respect you… but his self-control doesn’t last as long as he expected.
🐱 Sungho
The one who tries to stay in control but watches too much
Sungho didn’t react when you walked out in your pajamas.
Not outwardly.
But his eyes followed you.
Slow.
Subtle.
Intense.
They stayed on you a second longer than they should have.
Then another.
He didn’t say anything.
Just lifted his gaze calmly, like he was thinking too much.
“I should give you space,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
And he tried.
At least at first.
He acted proper, too proper.
He offered you the bigger pillow.
Adjusted the blanket carefully, his fingers brushing yours a second longer than necessary.
Sat at a safe distance, as if that could protect him from what was obvious.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.
But when you moved closer out of habit, he didn’t pull away.
Didn’t move.
Not even an inch.
Instead, He turned his face slightly toward you.
His gaze dropped to your lips without meaning to.
He avoided looking at you for as long as he could…until he gave in.
His hand reached for yours.
Slow, Steady.
Your fingers intertwined naturally.
As if he had been waiting for that moment.
His thumb began tracing absentminded patterns against your skin.
“Forget what I said about space,” he admitted quietly.
“Just stay closer.” And there were no nerves in his voice.
Only something he had been holding back for far too long.
🐥 Riwoo
The one who flirts and knows exactly the effect he has
You were still in the living room, the movie playing softly in the background, the lights dim.
Nothing unusual… until you walked out in your pajamas.
Riwoo looked up immediately.
He scanned you from head to toe without even trying to hide it.
It wasn’t awkward.
It wasn’t too much.
Just honest.
Then he smiled slightly, tilting his head.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he teased gently.
Still, he didn’t move closer right away.
Riwoo was flirty, yes, but he was also careful with you.
He always asked before getting into your space.
Before touching you.
Before getting closer than necessary.
As if he wanted a lot of things… but wasn’t willing to cross any line unless you allowed it first.
He sat beside you, leaving just enough space.
His arm rested behind you, not touching you yet.
Like he was holding himself back.
Until you were the one who rested your head on his shoulder.
Riwoo froze for just a second.
Only one.
Like his brain needed time to catch up.
Then, naturally, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you a little closer.
“That was your fault,” he whispered with an amused smile.
“I was trying to behave.”
His voice was light, playful…but his hand on your arm was warm and steady, like he had no intention of letting go.
🐶 Jaehyun
The one who pretends everything is normal but is completely affected
You were still in the living room, watching some movie.
Jaehyun acted the same as always, too normal.
He didn’t comment on your pajamas.
He didn’t joke around.
He didn’t react.
But his ears were red.
And his gaze kept drifting away every time he noticed you looking at him for too long.
“You can use the couch,” he said calmly.
“I’ll be fine here.” He said it like nothing was wrong.
Like he wasn’t overthinking everything.
A few minutes passed like that.
The silence became uncomfortable.
He sighed.
Stood up from the other end of the couch and walked over to you.
Sat down beside you.
Closer this time.
“If I keep pretending you don’t affect me… I’m just going to end up lying to myself,” he admitted softly.
He finally looked at you.
Didn’t look away.
His hand reached for yours carefully.
As if he wanted to make sure it was okay.
His thumb brushed over your fingers slowly.
And before he could change his mind, he leaned in slightly.
Just enough to leave a short, gentle kiss on your cheek.
He stayed there for another second, as if waiting for your reaction.
“And with you, I don’t want to lie,” he murmured at the end, still close.
⛰️ Taesan
The one who loses emotional control first
After you changed and came back to the living room, you watched a series together.
One episode.
Then another.
The night was already late.
The TV was still on, but only one of you was really paying attention.
Taesan was more aware of you than he wanted to admit.
Of the way you moved around the room.
Of how close you were, even when you weren’t trying to be.
He tried to stay calm.
He offered you water.
He offered you a blanket.
He offered you a pillow.
He offered you space.
He did it carefully.
With too much intention. As if he were trying to convince himself that everything was under control.
As if crossing a certain line would mean losing the control he had been holding onto for hours.
Until you moved closer to his side.
It wasn’t planned.
You did it simply because it was comfortable.
Because with him, it always was.
Taesan closed his eyes for a second, like he had been holding himself back the whole time.
“I tried,” he said with a soft laugh.
“Really.” Then he wrapped his arm around you.
Firm, but gentle.
No hesitation this time.
“But with you, I don’t want to keep resisting,” he murmured calmly.
“I want to stay like this for as long as I can.”
And in his voice there were no nerves.
Just sincerity.
🌊 Leehan
The one who respects you too much until he can’t hide it anymore
Leehan was the first to suggest you stay over.
As if he had already thought about it long before saying it out loud.
He gave you a clean T-shirt, an extra blanket, even left a bottle of water next to the couch just in case.
Too considerate,too careful.
When you walked out wearing shorts and his oversized shirt, he froze.
Looked at you for barely a second… then looked away, as if he had crossed some invisible line.
He avoided looking at you after that.
Not because he didn’t care.
But because he cared too much.
He sat farther away than usual, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, hands intertwined, breathing slowly like he needed to remind himself to keep his distance.
To remember there were boundaries, even if neither of you had ever said them out loud.
“If you need anything, just tell me,” he murmured, without fully meeting your eyes.
But time passed.
And with you so close, his self-control started to slip.
Your laughter.
Your voice softer from exhaustion.
The way you curled up against the cushion.
First, he looked at you again.
Then he shifted closer.
Just a little.
His shoulder ended up brushing against yours.
He didn’t move away.
His voice dropped, quieter.
Closer.
“Just… don’t move too much,” he whispered, like he needed an excuse to stay right there.
And this time, he didn’t pull away.
Because no matter how hard he tried… he never knew how to keep his distance from you.
🐻 Woonhak
The one who gets closer without realizing it
From the moment you arrived at his place, Woonhak was acting… strange.
Not uncomfortable, but definitely restless.
He talked too fast, kept changing the topic, laughed more than usual, and couldn’t stay still for long.
He was nervous.
Way more than he wanted to admit.
When you went to change and came back in your pajamas, he tried to act the same.
Like nothing had changed.
Like he hadn’t looked at you for a second longer than normal.
You sat back down together to keep watching the movie.
At first, he left space between you.
He really tried.
But little by little, it happened without either of you noticing.
First, his knee ended up brushing against yours.
He didn’t move it away.
Then his arm rested behind you, occasionally brushing your shoulder.
He didn’t move that either.
After a few minutes, his voice dropped.
“Hey…” he murmured, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Am I being too clingy?” You shook your head.
And his whole expression changed.
He relaxed.
Smiled, clearly relieved.
“Good,” he whispered.
“Because I think I’ve already gotten used to being this close to you.”
And this time, without nerves, he leaned in a little more, like he’d been waiting for your permission the whole time.
૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა : I had fun writing this, I hope you like it!!
Summary: Even miles apart, a shared balm becomes their quiet symbol of love and connection.
While he was in Japan for a concert, he couldn’t stop calling you or sending messages. He missed you constantly… missed your company, your warmth, and above all, that you were his full-body pillow. He missed your scent, which for him was a little refuge, something he needed while being away from you. He loved feeling cared for by you, and every time you told him about your day or sent him silly pictures, he smiled like a fool, wishing he could be there with you.
When he returned, he surprised you with several of your favorite balms. He remembered that you used them and wanted to bring you something that connected him to you, something that would make you smile. There were plain ones and even one with honey, like he remembered every little detail you liked. You opened them carefully, smelling each one, and couldn’t help but smile as you did.
What melted your heart completely was knowing that he was still using the balm you had given him before. Even though it was unscented, he kept it with him, holding onto that silent memory of you. And as if that weren’t enough, he had casually bought the same balm again, shyly saying he wanted both of you to have a “couple’s item.” Your heart skipped a beat just imagining how even something so small could make you feel closer.
From that day on, every time you use your balm, you think of him. Every time you see him use his, even if it’s unscented, you remember how he looks at it with that mix of affection and shyness. That small gesture, that simple detail, became a quiet sign of love, care, and connection between you two. A way of saying, “I’m thinking of you,” without words.
Even when you’re apart, something as simple as the scent of a balm becomes a constant reminder that the two of you share something special.
Summary: Leehan realizes he's always the one reaching for you; until he finally asks why.
🤍🤍🤍🧸🤍🤍🤍🧸🤍🤍🤍🧸🤍🤍🤍🧸🤍🤍🤍🧸
At first, Leehan simply assumed you were like that.
Affectionate, just… in your own way.
A light brush of your hand when you walked past him. Sitting close, but never quite leaning on him. Looking at him more than actually touching him.
You never complained. Never asked for anything.
And to him, that felt normal… until it didn’t.
Because after a while he started noticing something a little uncomfortable.
He was always the one moving closer first.
The one reaching for your hand.
The one resting his head on your shoulder.
The one who ended up stuck next to you whenever you were alone together.
You never pushed him away.
But you never seemed to need it either.
One afternoon you were in his room. You were lying on your back on the bed, hugging a pillow to your chest while staring at the ceiling.
Leehan sat beside you, absentmindedly fiddling with the corner of the pillowcase. Quieter than usual.
“Can I ask you something?” he said suddenly.
You turned your head toward him.
“Sure.”
He stayed quiet for a few seconds, like he was arranging the question in his mind.
“With you…” he started, “sometimes I don’t know if I’m the one getting too close.”
Your breathing paused for a moment.
“What do you mean…?”
Leehan looked down.
“You’re affectionate,” he said, “but not like… other people. Sometimes I don’t know if you’re just shy or if… you don’t really feel like doing that with me.”
Heat rushed to your face immediately.
“That’s not it,” you said quickly.
“Then tell me,” he replied, calm, not pushing, just honest. “Why do you almost never start it?”
You immediately rolled onto your side, burying your face into the pillow like it could hide you.
“Leehan…”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he added quickly. “I was just… curious.”
Your voice came out muffled through the pillow.
“It’s just… I never thought someone like you…”
He stilled.
“Someone like me?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.
“You’re calm… nice… attentive,” the words came out clumsily. “You’re always there. And I’m not used to that. I just thought people like you wouldn’t look twice at someone like me.”
The silence that followed felt heavier.
You felt the mattress shift when Leehan leaned a little closer. He didn’t touch you. He just rested his forehead lightly against the pillow still covering your face.
“So it’s not that you don’t want to,” he murmured.
“You’re just scared.”
You didn’t answer.
You didn’t need to.
“I get close like that because…” his voice softened, “I got used to you. To having you around. And when you don’t do it first… sometimes I start wondering if I’m imagining things.”
Your fingers tightened around the pillow.
“Hey,” he said gently. “You don’t have to hide.”
He didn’t try to pull the pillow away.
Instead, his hand slowly slid forward until his fingers brushed against yours.
“If you don’t move closer,” he added softly, “I will. Not because I’m missing something… but because I want to stay.”
Your heart was beating way too fast.
“And if you’re embarrassed,” he murmured, a faint smile in his voice, “…I can wait. Just don’t think I don’t notice.”
You slowly lowered the pillow just enough to look at him.
Summary:You come home tired and cling to Leehan without thinking. What starts as a simple need for comfort slowly turns into something neither of you is ready to joke about.
You come home tired, not really in the mood to think.
Leehan is in his room, distracted with whatever he’s doing, when you simply walk over and cling to him. Not a normal hug. You latch on. You hide. Your face sinks into his arm, breathing him in like the world ends right there.
“Eh…?” he lets out a small laugh. “What’s wrong with you?”
You don’t answer.
And that’s the mistake.
The silence turns strange. Thick.
You feel him tense little by little, the way his breathing shifts. He moves once… then again. Too much.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “If you keep doing that…”
He starts tugging at his T-shirt, awkward, flustered, like he doesn’t know what to do with his own hands. You notice and laugh softly against his skin.
“I thought you needed me,” he says, trying to joke, but his voice comes out lower than usual. “Not that you came here to torture me.”
You lift your face just enough to look at him. He’s red. His ears, his neck… everything.
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, catching his wrist when he tries to pull his shirt off. “I just wanted to stay like this.”
“That’s the problem,” he replies, swallowing. “You say ‘just’ like it’s nothing.”
You don’t let go.
And Leehan doesn’t insist.
Instead, he carefully wraps his arms around you, like he’s afraid of breaking something invisible, resting his chin on your head.
“You know I’m not strong with you,” he admits, so quietly it almost sounds like embarrassment. “So don’t laugh later.”
He tightens his hold just a little. Not too much.
Just enough to make it clear that, even if he pretends to joke, he already lost the moment you clung to him.
omgg luv your works sm!! could i ask for leehan 4b/e🏢👀 pls and tyty!! :3 💗💗
Thank you so much for this prompt, i hope you like it🫶🏻
I loved writing this one, the clingy, quiet chaos felt very Leehan to me 🔥💕
It wasn’t his intention to be like this.
Leehan was calm. Sitting on the floor of the practice room, back against the wall, half-listening to whatever the others were talking about. You were a few steps away, chatting with someone from the staff—nothing unusual.
But Leehan couldn’t stop looking at you.
It wasn’t jealousy. Not exactly.
It was that quiet discomfort of not having you close.
His gaze stayed on you. When you looked up and caught him staring, he didn’t look away. He held your eyes, slow and intense, like he was calling you without moving his lips.
It took you a moment to react.
Then you walked over to him.
“Is something wrong?” you ask.
Leehan shakes his head, but his hand is already reaching out, taking yours, pulling you down so you sit between his legs. His arm circles your waist immediately, automatic, like that’s where you’re supposed to be.
“Nothing,” he murmurs. “Just… come here.”
He rests his forehead against your shoulder. Doesn’t look at you. Takes a deep breath.
His fingers absentmindedly play with the edge of your shirt, tracing slow circles along your side. It’s not obvious. It’s need.
“When you’re not close…” he starts, then stops. “I get distracted.”
He pulls you a little closer without realizing it.
“I don’t like it,” he admits. “I feel restless.”
The others keep talking, laughing, moving around you like nothing’s happening. But Leehan doesn’t move. If anything, he settles in more, hiding his face a little deeper against your neck.
Then he seems to realize how clingy he’s being.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t notice.”
But he doesn’t let go.
And you know that even if he tries to act normal in front of everyone else…
when it comes to you, Leehan never really knows how to.
• Leehan is the kind of boyfriend who compliments you for every little achievement. Whether you’re learning a new language, finally finishing a difficult task you’d been putting off, or buying something you’ve wanted for a long time, he always makes sure to let you know how proud he is of you.
• He’s constantly asking for kisses in the most dramatic way, making exaggerated pouts, hugging you tightly, or clinging to your legs when you’re standing and he’s sitting down.
• When you go grocery shopping together, he follows you around like a puppy. As you ask him whether you should get this or that, he just looks at you with those pleading eyes when you pass by the candy aisle. You give in immediately, just as expected, while Leehan is already picking out which gummies to take.
• He loves cuddling you while sleeping. You’re like one of those full body pillows, except you’re the perfect size just for him. He especially likes burying his face in your hair and breathing in your scent as he falls asleep
• You know he’s always glued to you, right? Holding your hand and brushing his thumb over your skin while you wait in line at the movie theater, or when you go clothes shopping together. He always asks for your opinion, he just wants to look cute for you 🥹
• When he’s drunk, he’s even cuter. He clings to you the entire time, and if you try to move his hands away from your waist or arm, he pouts and sulks, whispering, “What? You don’t love me anymore?” when all you wanted was to put his jacket on him.
• He’s always taking care of you. If you’re sick, he buys medicine before going to work, orders food for you, and lets you know it’s already paid for.
• You know he goes to the gym, but you’ve never gone with him. Sometimes he asks you to join him, but you always say no, until one day he sends you pictures of himself after working out and says, “You’ll come with me next time, right?”.
Summary: Watching him eat a gummy becomes impossible to ignore. Minutes of stolen glances lead to a kiss he couldn’t hold back any longer.
You’re sitting side by side on the couch, each of you on your phone, but you can’t help sneaking glances at him.
Leehan has a gummy stuck between his lips, the way he chews it—slowly, almost absentmindedly… something about it makes you want to watch him again and again.
Fifteen minutes pass, and every time you turn your head, there he is, acting like nothing’s happening, focused on his screen. But your heart races with every tiny gesture: the way his lips purse, how his eyes blink, how his jaw moves with each bite.
Finally, you stop looking at your phone and glance at him again. Time seems to freeze when you see his upper lip glistening from the gummy. Then, almost shyly, he sets his phone aside.
Your breath catches. He doesn’t say a word. You just watch him look at you, and before you can react, he drops the gummy, leans in, and kisses you. His kiss is soft, warm, carrying all those seconds he spent holding back while you stared unabashedly.
When he pulls back slightly, his cheeks are red.
“Don’t… get the wrong idea,” he murmurs, trying to sound serious. “I just… couldn’t anymore.”
You laugh softly, resting your head against his shoulder, while he still avoids looking at you directly.
Summary: You try getting out of bed early for work, but Taesan refuses to let the morning end that easily
The alarm had barely gone off when you tried to move.
It was still dark outside, and the room remained warm from the heat that had built up through the night. Taesan was sleeping pressed against your back, one arm wrapped across your waist and one leg tangled between yours like he had unconsciously decided you weren’t allowed to escape.
Carefully, you lifted his arm a few inches.
Bad idea.
Before you could even slide out of bed, he let out a low sound of protest and pulled you back against his chest, holding you tighter this time.
“Dongmin…”
you murmured between amusement and exhaustion.
He buried his face into your neck without opening his eyes.
“No.”
His voice came out rough, heavy with sleep.
“I have to go to work.”
“Mmm.”
He didn’t sound very concerned about that.
You tried turning slightly to look at him, but the second you moved, he took the opportunity to pull even closer, hiding his face against your collarbone while both arms wrapped completely around you.
“Five more minutes.”
he mumbled.
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
“Then it worked.”
A small laugh escaped you and you tried lightly pushing his shoulder away, but Taesan only responded by hugging you tighter, practically pinning you against the mattress.
“Dongmin, seriously…”
He finally opened one eye.
Black hair completely messy, cheeks soft with sleep, and that slightly annoyed expression he always had whenever he got woken up too early.
“Why does your job need you so much?”
he asked, frowning slightly.
“Because they pay me.”
“I could do that too.”
You laughed again.
“You can’t pay me to stay in bed with you.”
“Who said I can’t?”
Now he opened both eyes, staring at you while a slow smile spread across his face.
And before you could answer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you right back on top of him.
“Look,”
he said, still half asleep.
His hands settled against your back while he buried his face into your neck again.
“You’re warm here.” “The bed is soft.” “And I’m holding you.”
He lifted his head slightly to look at you.
“So why would you want to leave?”
You looked at him, trying not to laugh too hard at how serious he sounded.
“Because I’m a functional adult.”
Taesan immediately made a disgusted face.
“That’s such an awful sentence to hear at six in the morning.”
And before you could try getting up again, he started covering your face with quick, messy kisses, very obviously using them as a distraction.
Pairing: taesan x gn!reader genres: fluff, established relationship warnings: - note from cece: hehe hope you guys enjoy :) navi
• the most chalant nonchalant boyfriend ever
tries so hard to keep up his chill attitude, but he fails miserably
• pretends like he wasn't waiting all day for you to message him and like he didn't answer back immediately
• creates a whole SONG for your anniversary, but tries to play it off like it was so easy
• for sure has a playlist dedicated to just you and another one for the both of you guys
• he's the type to admire you while you're doing literally anything. You're reading a book on the couch? He's leaning against the kitchen counter with a soft look on his face
If you catch him though, he'll just pretend like he was "admiring the wall." Yeah.. the wall.. sure..
• you're constantly on his mind
• sends you pictures of a book that he read and his review on it
A/N: I really needed a small drabble to remind myself I can finish my wips. Lately life has been a roller-coaster, sometimes very good and sometimes very unpleasant, so I've found myself reading a lot of fluff in need of softness. This is completely not proof read, I basically just finished writing it, so sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3
Dongmin doesn't know if he'll ever get used to the stares.
In part, he understands them: if he saw a couple like this, he'd also question it. But then, he's not one to care about strangers' lives, so it'd only last a second and he'll go on on his path. He wishes other people would do like him. Instead, their curious, judgmental eyes seemed to be glued to the two of you.
If he focuses enough, it's like he can hear their thoughts.
"They don't look good together" "She's so pretty, it's a shame" "She's beautiful, so pink and feminine; he's so dark" "Why is he frowning when he has her on his side?" "Does he hate his girlfriend?" "Poor thing mustn't realize he hates her"
And it all led to one question: how does a girl like you get into him?
Yeah, Dongmin asked himself the same thing when you started dating. At first, he didn't even realize you were flirting with him. He was used to be alone at lessons, his resting bitch face and dark clothing kept everyone away, so he was quite confused when you sat next to him. And even more when you tried to talk to him.
'Maybe it's all a bet', he even considered that option. Wouldn't be the first time some dumb popular guy dared a popular girl — like you were — to flirt with a "loser" — as Dongmin was considered — just to embarrass him publicly. He definitely wanted to avoid that.
But you never hung out with the popular guys, only with your small friend group. That made you different, right?
Well, that's the correct assumption he arrived to, pushed by his growing crush on you. Dongmin really tried, with all his will, not to fall for you, to just ignore you, but you were so kind and so magnetic. The way your sweet vanilla and strawberry perfume filled the air, announcing your arrival, how his name sounded like the perfect word when coming out of your mouth, how you looked at him with those big eyes, like he was the whole world when, truly, you were.
He felt dizzy whenever you sitted so close to him, arms and legs brushing every time you moved. And every time he hoped you couldn't see the tips of hus ears burning hot and the sheer pink on his cheeks, that matched your outfits.
It took a lot of time for Dongmin to accept his feelings for you and even more to start to act on them. But the fact that you stayed, waiting for him, only made him fall for you even more.
That's how the dark mean Dongmin found himself with a hyper feminine sweet girlfriend.
A girlfriend that everyone deemed unfitting and undeserved of him. And he felt it every time you were in public, where people stared, not caring that he could feel those unwanted eyes crawling on his skin.
"Min, they have matching keychains of Bad Badtz Maru and My Melo! It's us!"
Your voice brought him back to reality. You were so unaware of what people thought of you two. Or maybe you did and just didn't care as you hopped in place, holding his arm, eyes shining bright as you ranted about how he was so Bad Badtz Maru and you were so My Melody.
Suddenly, it all didn't matter. He didn't feel the stares anymore, didn't hear their thoughts. In every corner of his mind now there was only you, the only person that could see his real him and love it. The only person that mattered.
"Let's buy them, I'll hang it on my backpack"
You didn't expect your boyfriend to agree so quickly.
"Really?! I'm so happy"
Your arms wrapped tightly around his middle as you buried your face in his chest. His endeared laugh reverbered through your bones, while his hand gently caressed your hair.
Dongmin didn't know how a girl like you got into him, but he felt so lucky you did.
𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your boyfriend, han dongmin, isn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection, preferring to maintain his nonchalant image. however, when you come home with a sore throat, his inner romantic pops out instantly.
ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 1.2k ⠀ genre fluff established relationship ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship pet names sickness (sore throat) ⠀ note i’m sorry LOLZ this is suuuuper self-indulgent coz. i am unfortunately Sick ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net , @onedoornet
ᅠ ＞︿ please leave feedbacks & reblog
Dongmin knew, from the moment you stepped into the house, that there was something wrong with you.
“Welcome home, baby,” he says the second he hears the door open. He’s sitting in the living room, brainstorming some ideas for his upcoming song. He looks up to you, eyebrows furrowing immediately after seeing a blank look on your face.
The only response he gets from you is a hum. You huffily open your shoes, setting your coat aside, and walk into the bedroom you share with Dongmin.
Dongmin watches in pure silence as you do all this, concern clouding his thoughts. He knows, immediately, that you’re feeling off—you didn’t run straight into his arms after coming home from your work shift.
“Y/N? Darling?” he calls, pausing to hear for any replies.
And after a few minutes of getting silence as your response, Dongmin grunts and jumps off the couch. He tosses his notebook aside, bolting towards your shared bedroom. He stops his momentum as he bumps against the doorframe, a little perplexed seeing you plopped on the bed, face flat down, still in your work clothes.
The unusual change in your usual behaviour irks him.
“Baby,” he says softly, “are you mad at me?”
Dongmin asks cautiously, remembering that he didn’t pick you up from work today due to a meeting with the band he’s producing songs for. It’s part of the way Dongmin shows his love for you—he’ll spend extra money on bus tickets just to accompany you on the way to work, even though your workplace is the opposite of his own.
“No…” he catches a muffled reply from you, weak and tired. Dongmin takes this as a chance—he steps closer to you. His steps are swift yet quiet, and once he’s by the edge of the bed, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. He isn’t used to being the one offering physical affection, so he’s a little unsure of the next move he should be making.
“Then… What’s the matter, baby?”
Dongmin has his eyes trained on you, quick to catch any kind of response from you. He’s immensely worried—you’re not usually like this. On normal days, you’d spend your evenings talking about your day, telling him about the little things that made you smile today as the two of you take the bus to go home. Usually, Dongmin would enjoy the view of the sun setting into the horizon with you on his lap, taking a nap to recharge after a long day.
You sluggishly turn, whining. “I don’t know…”
“You don’t feel good?” Dongmin asks, sitting next to you. Still laying down, you nod.
“Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat immediately after. You pout, inching closer to Dongmin. Noticing your actions, Dongmin adjusts his sitting position to let you lay your head on his lap. You settle yourself comfortably, melting into his warmth.
“This feels so much better,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” he breathes, smiling softly.
The two of you spend quite some time together—Dongmin stroking your head gently as you close your eyes for a few moments. He’s not a big fan of grandly expressing his love for you—he prefers loving you in the little, simple things in life. But today, he just feels like it—it’s quite tiring pretending to be so nonchalant when all he and the biggest romantic side of him wants is to pepper you in his affection.
Dongmin is lost in thought as he’s gazing upon you—how gentle and beautiful you look even when your eyes are closed, and how lucky he truly is to have you as the love of his life. He leans down, kissing your forehead, and is surprised at how abnormally warm your skin feels.
Dongmin places a hand on your forehead. Warm. He frowns, placing his hand on your neck and face. Still warm.
“Darling,” he calls, his voice gentle as his kiss on your nose. Your eyes flutter open, and he holds your gaze. “Are you sick?”
You clear your throat, clearly uncomfortable as you do so. “Am I?”
Dongmin opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a fit of coughs from you. Both of you widen your eyes, and you immediately sit up.
“I’m sorry for that–”
“You’re sick.”
You blink profusely, confused. “What?”
“You’re sick,” Dongmin says, matter-of-factly. Without missing a beat, he rushes to the closet and comes back a quick second later with his hoodie—your favourite one to steal from his wardrobe. He hands it to you, his brows crossed in a serious expression.
“Here,” he says.
You take it from his hand. “What are you–”
“Go change—” he says, quickly kissing your cheek before darting out of the room. “—I’ll be back!”
You oblige to his words, changing into the Dongmin’s hoodie and some comfortable pants. You walk out of the bedroom, hating how you’re coughing every two minutes. A sweet, tangy smell attacks your nose, and you dash to the kitchen, seeing Dongmin cutting up a pineapple. You can’t fight the smile that immediately erupts on your face, finding his focused expression adorable.
You cough again, breaking the comfortable silence in the apartment. Dongmin looks up at you, and his eyes instantly light up at the sight of you. He smiles, a kind of fuzzy feeling filling up his chest seeing you comfortable in his clothes.
“What are you doing there? Go rest,” he says, using his head to signal to the direction of the bedroom.
You purse your lips. He’s right, but you just wanna stand there and watch him do his thing—remembering the tiny details about you, effortlessly doing them for you. Dongmin is cutting pineapples, meticulously picking out the spiky leaves out of the sweet fruit’s flesh—all because he knows that you love eating pineapples whenever you have a sore throat.
“Where did you get the pineapple?” you ask, approaching him.
Dongmin scoops the cut-up fruit from the cutting board and into a bowl. “I happened to have one,” he answers, flashing you an ‘innocent’ smile that you know is hiding mischief behind it.
“You ordered it, didn’t you?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him. Dongmin snickers, shrugging his shoulders.
“Now, my dearest darling,” Dongmin says, the bowl of pineapple in one hand and another on your back. He guides you to the bedroom, grinning widely. “Let’s cosy up, shoo the sore throat away with some pineapples and a good kdrama?”
Your face lights up with the mention of Dongmin’s brilliant idea. “But you don’t like watching dramas,” you point out as you climb onto bed.
Dongmin, the stupidly handsome grin still on his face, replies cheekily. “Well, I’ll watch them for you.”
“Why?” you ask, suspiciously glancing at him.
“Because I love you,” Dongmin says in a sing-song tone, leaning in to give you a swift kiss.
You giggle into the kiss, already a pink mess. You bury yourself into Dongmin’s hoodie, letting his familiar and comforting scent engulf you as you wait for him to settle next to you.
You then wrap your arms around Dongmin’s waist, head snugly against his chest. You spend the rest of the night binge-watching a comfort show that you’ve seen multiple times—letting yourself rest, already feeling better with Dongmin feeding you pineapples, knowing that he’s secretly enjoying being the openly affectionate one. Your heartbeats align with one another, and you slowly drift to sleep in peace, forgetting about the annoying feeling of a sore throat.
Honestly, any pain is tolerable when you’re with Dongmin—his presence is already enough of a medicine for you.
