I've been around for a little while but never posted, maybe you've seen me before? Anyway, I'm finally making an introduction. Here it goes!
𖤐 ~ Hi, I'm dvrk (dark)! You can call me a nickname if you'd like.
𖤐 ~ I'm 19.
𖤐 ~ My pronouns are he/him.
𖤐 ~ I might start posting and reblogging. I will post and reblog whatever I want, that includes nsfw stuff! So if you decide to follow me, keep that in mind.
𖤐 ~ I don't mind sexual interaction. You can talk to me about anything nsfw or sfw (except for certain k!nks and things, ask me first pls)!
𖤐 ~ As for dni, just the general stuff (racism homophobia transphobia ableism sexism etc). Bad people be gone!! Also mdni (minors do not interact) I did say I will post and reblog nsfw stuff, so obviously.
𖤐 ~ I think that's about it. If you want to know more about me, just ask! I do have the right to not answer though!
summary: You meet Kuanjui in a quaint coffee shop before he debuts, not knowing anything about who he is or what he does. When you do learn, you're only happy to get more invested in his job and his group members. Until one fateful, special fansign where his outfit has you going off the rails.
a/n: 250708 outfit and hair had me absolutely foaming at the mouth. Oh my god. Not even writing this cured me, it might have just made me worse
You were sitting in the corner of a small bakery that was open surprisingly late, and that alone could have kept you coming back. It was only made more compelling considering that everything they made was delicious, you suspected some bit of witchcraft, and it somehow wasn't popular enough to be overcrowded. And obviously it was open late enough to conform to the rest of your schedule.
Your current task was not going well, however, and it caused you to be so easily distracted. Every flash of someone walking past outside or the chiming of the door had you looking up. It was summer, so the streetlights wouldn't turn on for quite a while yet, but you still couldn't see the sun as it sank behind the tall city buildings.
It was getting close to closing time even if it wasn't dark out and you had to remind yourself to get ready to leave and not disturb the very nice people who worked here and had surely come to recognize you by now.
Thankfully, you weren't ready to leave quite yet when one of the last customers came in. Quite possibly the most beautiful person you had ever seen face to face, which was doubly unfair when you were wearing practically the same type of lounge clothes as them yet felt like you looked a bit like a mop. Your saving grace was sitting near the edge of the store and having no one facing you to watch as you stared down this stranger.
Something in their mind or gaze must have tipped them off you were staring and they turned to look back at you before you had properly, humanly registered that you should stop staring. It was only for a second, maybe one and a half, where you locked eyes before your brain kicked in and you scrambled to pick your stuff up because you needed to leave now.
You were not fast enough to escape their notice and you watched white sneakers approach and stop at your table. Chewing lightly on your bottom lip, you tried to look up without looking like you were looking at them. It didn't work, the pretty stranger could tell immediately and was grinning at you. You sighed and looked up fully, giving an awkward smile, not really sure how to proceed when caught so red-handed.
"Well, hello there, what's your name?" They bent over slightly, a perfectly arched back, to look at you still bent over the table where you were collecting your things before.
You pulled yourself back up to talk properly, and they went with you. Exchanging introductions, you found yourself only more immediately charmed by Kuanjui. He was so elegant, in a way that you clearly saw when you stared, but only became more obvious when he moved and spoke.
The cash register closed loudly from the counter and it jolted you back to reality, you did actually have to leave, preferably before they kicked you out. Hurrying to gather the remainder of your items, you felt the reversal as Kuanjui watched you. It felt bold to assume anything and take any initiative, even when he was the one to come talk to you.
Thankfully, it seemed he had ample confidence for the both of you.
"Give me your phone. Or your number."
You floundered, too many things moving around in your hands, but the easy smile on his face when he handed it back was worth the effort. He held the door open as you walked out, and you blushed as you bid him goodbye feeling him watching you still until you turned a corner.
Your thought process turned away from solely him, but there was a consistent undercurrent in the back of your mind just repeating, "how did that happen? Was he even real?" It went until you fall asleep.
You didn't dream about him, cliche as it would be to do so. Or perhaps you did, but that particular dream was one you didn't remember. Your preoccupation with dreams you did remember, as well as your real life, was why you don't remember to text Kuanjui back that morning. You took a lunch break and took out your phone from your pocket, and your brain fired to abruptly remind you of the last time you took your phone out of your pocket like that.
What do you say to open a conversation? Was he just being friendly or was he looking for something else too? With such a limited interaction you got no read on what Kuanjui was looking for in this situation.
Hey, it's _. The guy from the cafe last night
Short and sweet and simple. There was no response for a while, and you got it. It was totally okay, you were also a busy adult. That didn't stop you from checking the screen one, or five hundred, times hoping for a response.
Yay! Hi there not-so-stranger!
You couldn't help but smile a little at his energy coming through the phone.
Not-so-stranger?
Well. I don't text strangers. But we can't be anything else so quick either
And so it went the whole afternoon, significantly distracting you from most of the productivity you'd normally have during this time period. Nothing would break without you being focused for a day, so you let yourself have it. Though you did almost break an ankle staring at your phone and walking to your apartment. Thankfully no one saw you do it, and hopefully no one heard you either.
The texts continued as you made dinner and you had to pay a little more attention if you want to eat tonight. It didn't totally stop you from holding your phone in one hand and attempting to tap away, anyways.
It continued that way, and you felt a little embarrassed that you were acting like a high schooler the way you were attached to your phone texting a boy. A man, since you were adults, but it felt the same way as high school crushes did.
It all paid off one day when Kuanjui texted you with the question you had given up on hoping for.
Do you wanna go get coffee with me this weekend? Or something else, if you're not a coffee fan
Your reply was exceedingly normal and calm, not willing to make an absolute fool of yourself in front of Kuanjui.
So your plans were made for the weekend and all you had to do was not fuck it up, or fuck up your job, before that day came! No problem. You definitely didn't spend hours imagining the date in your head or planning what you were going to wear and do the day of. Never.
One would think that would make the day of easier considering you had imagined practically every possible path, but the human brain is mysterious. You got yourself a drink and a pastry, considering one for Kuanjui as well but having no idea what he would want. Perhaps you could swoop in and pay for him when he got here, if you were quick with it.
You didn't even have to wait that long, and Kuanjui was still a few minutes early which made you feel a little better about how this whole thing might go. Clearly, he didn't see you yet, and you gave yourself a minute to admire his "casual but still trying" outfit. As he decided on something to order you stood up and prepared to swoop in and slap your card down. It was close, but you did manage to slide your card under his onto the card reader, and when it confirmed you turned to smile at him.
Mistake. Any surprise about your sudden appearance had disappeared and all that was left was the most devastating pout you had ever seen. Kindergarteners wished they were on this level. You blinked, temporarily stunned and you saw a curve of a smirk start to take over before Kuanjui pulled it back and kept staring and pouting, hard.
"It was the least I could do, okay? You set up this whole date, I repay by buying things for you." You shrugged, handing him his coffee when the worker slid it over the counter.
"That is not how that works at all! I asked you, so I should pay for you." Kuanjui took a defiant sip of his coffee, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at you.
You considered his words as you led him back to the table you had parked yourself at.
"Too late now. Maybe," you looked out the window and twisted your mouth, wondering if you should be so bold. "You should ask me for a second date so you can try again."
Kuanjui's mouth dropped open slightly and you started to think you shouldn't have said that, maybe even take it back, but then he started blushing so prettily and tried to cover it when he realized too. You rested your chin in your hands and took the moment to stare at him, seeing if he'd fluster more. If honesty was all it took to do this, you'd have no problems.
Sure enough, even more blushing, and Kuanjui started giggling and shaking his head at you. He turned it on you just as easily when he blinked slowly and looked at you through his lashes coyly.
"Keep flirting like this and I think you'll land yourself more than one extra."
By the end of the date, you were confident that you wanted more than one extra too. It was so easy to talk and learn about each other. Something about how Kuanjui had such an interesting life, told in such a soft and unassuming voice, kept you entranced for hours.
You stepped onto the sidewalk outside the cafe together, but both of you were clearly a little reluctant to end the night as well as awkward in trying to do so.
"So, uh, did I keep up the flirting enough for more of this?" You asked shyly.
Kuanjui hurriedly turned to you, beaming. "Oh, of course! Perhaps we could talk about that while I walk you home?"
You raised an eyebrow. "What a gentleman you are, who would've thought."
Terrible news for your heart, Kuanjui just had to pull out his pout again. He was going to learn how much power it had over you and use it to his advantage for sure.
"Now what does that mean, mister!"
"Well, you're just so pretty, I thought I should be the one to walk you home instead."
"Oh!" Kuanjui covered his mouth with his hand, but the smile that came over his face was still clear to you. "No no no. I'll be fine, I have roommates to call if I need anything."
That made you feel better about his safety on his own way home, and you turned towards where your apartment was, letting Kuanjui fall into step with you. You made a turn that you would usually think nothing of until Kuanjui made a fake dramatic sigh of relief and you looked over at him with obvious confusion.
"That was basically the same way I walk until now and I thought this was going to be how I learned you were a stalker or something."
"So close yet I never saw you before a few weeks ago? I must have had terrible timing." You shake your head at yourself, wondering if there was times you had seen Kuanjui but just not noticed him somehow.
Kuanjui giggled sweetly. "Oh, I'm not really a go out type of person. Too much going on for that."
You hummed thoughtfully, wanting to ask what was keeping him so busy, but decided to leave the intrigue for when there was more time to really talk about it.
"I'm just glad you won't have too far to go then, I'm up in this one." You stopped and nodded up.
"Well, I was glad to be your knight in shining armour for this journey, my good sir." Kuanjui bowed, and then glanced at you before taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.
You rolled your eyes indulgently, but secretly you were memorizing the way your hands fit together and hoping there was more of that to come. Only time would tell and you watched Kuanjui walk down the street for a minute before actually heading inside.
The second your front door closed behind you, you fell against it and buried your face in your hands, giggling quietly and incessantly at everything that had happened today. Looking back, it didn't feel quite real that it went so well.
It was near the end of date 3 that you found out what had kept Kuanjui so busy before. You were sitting on a park bench, watching the people going by and getting a beautiful view of the sunset behind them. It felt like watching a painting in front of you.
"So." Kuanjui spoke up suddenly, and you turned to him, but he wasn't looking at you. "I needed to tell you anyways, but now it's really relevant. I've been a kpop trainee for 2 years, and my group is debuting soon."
It wasn't what you had expected, but with such an extensive dance background it wasn't a surprise that Kuanjui wanted to be an idol and had been snatched up by an agency for his talents.
"That's really cool! I'm sure you've been working hard, I hope you've been resting."
He laughed in a slightly sad way.
"As much as I can, but it all needs to be right. Our leader takes good care of us though, makes sure we're not running ourselves too ragged. We have to team up to do it back to him though, he won't make himself rest."
You nodded as you thought about the people you had met that were that type, always taking care of others but not themselves.
"Can I meet these group members of yours? Are these the roommates you've talked about before?" You had a lot more questions about what his life was like and how people outside, like you, could fit into it. But you saved those for now.
"Um, yeah! You could come to a practice day and hang out for a while. It gets all of us in our… natural habitat, I guess."
You shook your head, protesting. "I dunno about that, I wouldn't wanna be a distraction to you guys working."
Kuanjui just shakes his head with a soft smile, staring at the ground in front of him. "We already know everything, the practices are just for polishing now. I think we'd all welcome the distraction. Wumuti, our leader, might be a little prickly at first but he'll get over it."
You hesitate, still not sure if you want to enter and disrupt such a fragile environment. But it sounds kind of fun, you really need to meet more people, and you'd meet people who are clearly important to the man sitting next to you.
"Okay. But if I'm seriously interrupting then I'm gonna leave no matter what."
Kuanjui nods understandingly. "And I was wondering how I'll introduce you. I was thinking, could I formally introduce you as my boyfriend?"
Your eyes fly wide in shock, not expecting two big turn of e in one night. Nothing you could say you're upset about, of course.
"Really? You don't wanna put me through the friend test before the boyfriend title?"
Kuanjui turns to you fully, taking one of your hands in his and making intense eye contact.
"No, I have full confidence that they'll like you. I've talked about you already. And maybe the boyfriend title will make you less likely to get scared away by them."
So you set a date and time to meet your boyfriend's groupmates and close friends. He's also able to tell you the official debut date and you tell him that you'll be waiting and ready for the moment it drops. You can't wait to see Kuanjui in such a new way, and in his element, performing.
The day finally comes, and you're nearly as nervous as you were before your first, official, date with Kuanjui. Which is to say, you are very nervous. Nervous in different ways too, because now Kuanjui was important to you and these people were important to him, so this meeting felt like it had to go well.
You had the address to the agency building, and proof to get you past any security. The group had started practice before you even woke up, so you were trusted to get yourself in. It looked like a pretty normal and small building, at least compared to the other agency buildings you had ever passed by.
The directions to the practice room were clear and you stood outside the door, taking a few deep breaths before opening it and peeking inside. The song playing through the speakers was loud, but honestly you were barely processing it between all the noise in your head. Apparently, you had entered at just the right time to watch Kuanjui drop into a frankly insane back bend on his knees.
You heard yourself squeak at the sight and slapped your hand over your mouth as all 4 people in the room turned to look at you. Kuanjui looked over his shoulder and then stood with an insulting lack of effort, hurrying over to you.
"You're here! Come in, come in, don't be shy now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you to where the rest of the group was standing.
One of them had turned off the music and you internally thanked them, it made it much harder to think and talk.
"Guys, this is my boyfriend!" Kuanjui wiggled his fingers in your direction like he was doing a magic trick and the smile on his face was a little wobbly. Was he hiding his nervousness about this for you before?
You hurriedly bow to them, fumbling with your words in a very embarrassing manner.
"H-hello! It's very nice to meet all of you."
They chimed back similarly but when none of them took initiative to introduce themselves Kuanjui harrumphed and put his hands on his hips.
"Do I have to do everything around here? Fine!" He grabbed your arm again, pulling you closer and pushing your shoulders to make you face the first member. "This is Haru, he's our maknae. Jinhyung, our giant main vocal. And, of course, our leader Wumuti!"
You waved and bowed to each person as Kuanjui turned you to face them, and they did the same back, looking at the pair of you amusedly. Except for Wumuti, who gave a small wave and then stared you down like a parent examining their child's new partner. And damn was he good at it because even when you looked away his gaze was chilling. Of course, Kuanjui noticed and started whining at his leader.
"Muti-hyuuuuuuuuung. You can't scare him away already, I just got him."
Wumuti cocked his hip out and raised an eyebrow. "If he's scared away by this much, then that's deserved."
Haru muttered "you are so much scarier than you think you are."
You huffed a laugh and then covered it with a very conspicuous cough when Wumuti looked at you again. The sooner you could win this guy over the better, for sure. They had to get back to practicing soon, so you took a seat at the back wall near the corner so you wouldn't be caught in the mirror too much.
Before, you hadn't really processed that you'd be getting access to spoilers to their debut and it was a pretty big act of trust to let you in and just hope you wouldn't leak anything. You couldn't imagine doing so, taking away their big moment, but they didn't know that for sure.
Watching Kuanjui drop into the backbend again was just as impressive as the first time, and then he followed it up with another pair of insane spins and you just had to wonder again who the hell you pulled. Sure, you had learned he could dance and he had shown you some of his videos, but seeing it now and with your own eyes was simply a different experience.
Clearly, the others weren't slackers either. After the first chorus, Wumuti did a pair of kicks at practically eye level while Jinhyung held him up, and then Jinhyung did a ridiculous move of his own to push himself to standing. Safe to say, your mouth was wide open watching this whole thing, and your phone screen had long gone dark in your lap.
The song ended with a shrug and all was silent for a moment save for the sounds of their heavy breathing. That was before you started clapping, enthusiastically, probably loud enough to mimic the sound of multiple people watching. Everyone turned to you to bow, laughing at your enthusiastic assent, even as they continued to breathe heavily.
"First test audience approves, that's good." Wumuti said, patting everyone's backs and hugging them close.
It was obvious how much he cared about them even in this short time. Kuanjui winked at you but had to go to where his bag was to grab his water bottle. You couldn't look at him for much longer as Jinhyung and Haru closed in and flopped to sit down on either side of you. The sudden movement made you jump a little and then you looked between them, blinking.
"Hyung brings someone in and you think we're not gonna ask you any questions?" Haru grinned at you.
You sat up, back suddenly straight and wondering what type of questions these were gonna be.
Jinhyung dispelled any worry when he excitedly asked, "yeah! Important questions, like, what's your favourite pokemon? And if you don't have one we'll find one."
You slumped back against the wall, letting all your muscles go comically loose and slack, it made both of them laugh. Kuanjui chose that time to come over, wincing when you hit your head on the wall. You gave him a small smile and shake of your head to silently tell him you're okay. He didn't seem entirely convinced but let you have it.
Haru noticed all of it though. "You two already have that telepathic couples communication? Gross."
Kuanjui kicked one lithe leg at him, but you could tell it wasn't serious, even as Haru shrieked and curled away. They continued like that for a while, with only minimal amounts of more violence. Real practice time had to come back around though, and you watched as your boyfriend proceeded to stand up by doing a backwards somersault upwards. You blinked, wondering if you even saw that correctly, and also wondering why on earth he decided to do that in the first place.
"He likes to do that, but I also think he's trying to impress you right now. Be impressed." Wumuti fake whispered, hand cupped around the side of his mouth.
You gave an exaggerated large nod at him, and then clapped, patronizingly slow and large for Kuanjui's roll. Kuanjui rolled his eyes, spinning towards the mirror and kneeling into his starting position. You were the only one still paying attention to him, even as you were laughing, so you saw the wink Kuanjui gave you through the mirror.
But as you looked around, you could only be happy with how well it was going so far and it really seemed like they liked you. Or, if nothing else, didn't hate you. Watching them laugh, you wondered how you could have been so intimidated before, then they visibly locked in as the song started and it sort of made sense again.
This was more than just a run through, Wumuti was shouting different things over the music and you didn't see any difference but you were sure that they were all adjusting in real time. After a few repeats of the song Wumuti stood up and turned off the music. You thought they might be taking another break, but no such thing.
"Live vocals! Doesn't have to be 100%, but like… 75% minimum."
Jinhyung let out a short scream from where he was crouched and heavily breathing, and you startled then laughed under your breath a little. Clearly, practice was draining and tiring in multiple ways, but they still managed to make it fun even while they struggled through.
6 months later it was the exact same feeling. Perhaps with a little more heart and levity since it was a comeback rather than debut. You also joined in with their goofiness more now, and all of them took the chances they had to get closer with you over these months. Plenty of groupchats, secret photos, inside jokes. You weren't a part of the team, no matter how many dance practices and recordings you attended, but you felt like something pretty close to it. And it felt great to have this space with 4 people you enjoyed being around so much.
You turned the corner to the usual practice room with a cardboard cupholder in hand, the scents of various drinks mixing and wafting to your nose. The practice room was left open this time and you dramatically kicked it open and flicked your hair when they turned to you.
"Your fabulous delivery boy has arrived with the drinks!"
Haru bounded up and over to you from his spot on the wall, and you were wondering if he even needed more caffeine. Too late, you watched him chug a quarter of it down. Kuanjui was last up and took the opportunity to put a hand on your hip and pull you close to him. You turned into him, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing together.
It was so nice, being surrounded by his warmth and the warmth of the conversation of the other three. It had to be interrupted eventually, they still had a job to do. Kuanjui risked a kiss before he pulled away entirely, and you smiled at him as you two managed to escape the usual teasing somehow.
As with their debut, the group would proceed to attend many fansigns for months after their comeback, even while starting to prepare for the next songs. You went to as many as you could and stayed backstage, or watching from the sidelines, which was as close as you were ever allowed to get.
It was fun watching them be so silly on the stage and having so much fun talking to and performing for all the fans.
The best day, or worst depending on your view, started backstage while you waited in the prep room watching all the hair and makeup. Often the members did their own or helped each other, but that day there was one stylist going around helping them as necessary. You stopped paying attention for a while, it was fun to be surprised by their looks as much as you could be. Some time later, how much time you couldn't tell for sure, you snapped out of it when you could feel and see Kuanjui leaning over you, probably trying to peek at your phone screen.
You snapped down the power button and started looking up to pout at him, only to get stuck about halfway up on his outfit.
The bright pink top matched his hair well, you had loved watching the pink fade so nicely, and the shirt was perfectly cropped to show his slender waist. You had never wanted to hide him from the fans, knowing how much Kuanjui loved his job, but somebody was trying to test you today. From their styling record it just might have been Kuanjui who picked this out for himself, knowing what it would do to you.
You could feel the heat rising on your cheeks and wondered if he could tell, it seemed like he could always tell when you were flustered, even if you weren't physically together. Continuing your admiration, you saw how the stylist must have helped Kuanjui with curling his short hair, knowing he wasn't so skilled that he could do it that quickly, yet.
"How do you like my outfit today?" Kuanjui asked innocently. He asked the question every time, but you really thought he could do away with the formality today and judge from your reaction.
"It-" your voice squeaked and you cleared your throat, "it looks great! You probably knew that already, didn't you."
Kuanjui just laughed at how you looked at him, and fell down next to you, urging you to let him look at what you were doing. You did so, muttering about how spoiled he was under your breath, knowing you were the problem, the one who spoiled him so badly.
They didn't get much longer to prepare, and you took your usual spot on the sidelines, hidden unless a fan really decided to look, but able to see the group unless they went to the front of the stage.
The time flew as you were both locked in on watching them and not mentally present to your spot at all. Kuanjui's outfit had rattled you even more than you let on, and you didn't know how you were going to restrain yourself once you had him in front of you again.
It turned out that you might not have had to at all when Wumuti came backstage first and passed you. He put one hand on your shoulder and leaned to whisper in your ear, "second room on the right is empty."
You just turned your head and blinked at him, and Wumuti only winked and kept walking. All you could do was shake your head and wonder how obvious you had been. Wumuti was observant and you had to hope Haru and Jinhyung weren't so much so. They passed by without a second look so you assumed you were safe there. If they noticed something happening they always made it obvious.
Kuanjui was last, happily waving and blowing kisses to fans. Maybe he did it because he wanted to see the fans a little more, or maybe he knew you were going to be waiting. It was hard to tell how much he knew, always keeping his intentions tucked away in his back pocket.
You didn't say anything as he came up to you, smiling like it was any other day and any other fansign, instead of one that was causing you to lose your mind very slowly. Still, it seemed that he caught on quickly when you caught his wrist and dragged him, willingly, into the room that Wumuti mentioned and closed the door behind you both, closing you off to the world behind the door. It was immediate, how close you got, crowding him against the door. Two hands on his criminally small waist, fingers splayed as you touched as much of the open skin as you could.
Kuanjui smirked and watched through half-lidded eyes as you gripped his waist, with your eyes closed and breathing slowly like you were trying to contain yourself. Problem was, he didn't want you to contain yourself. Instead, he took your hands and pushed them up higher beneath his already short crop top. Your eyes snapped open to meet his and he held you there.
"Do you understand what it did to me to sit there for two hours watching, knowing that fans were recording that outfit and that people must be freaking out online the second anything was posted?" You said it quietly, but each word seemed to be sucked out of you.
"Sure. But weren't you the one to see it first? And now you're the one holding me against a wall." Kuanjui tilted his head, tapping his fingers on yours.
You just had to sigh, because he was technically right after all. That helped mildly with how annoyed you had been about fans getting to witness all of this on the stage. Now, all of this was yours again and Kuanjui didn't miss how your shoulders lowered a little, even as you kept looking at each other. At some point you either began to sense his impatience or got impatient yourself, and grabbed him by the neck to pull his mouth to yours. It was a little harsh at first, you underestimated just how pliant Kuanjui would be in the moment.
But you adjusted, backing off by millimeters, and Kuanjui let out a little hum and a breath. At the same time you pushed your bodies even closer together, pushing his back into the door, but he probably didn't even feel it with the way he had started to grip and pull at the back of your shirt.
You let out a little satisfied hum of your own, happy with how easily you could get Kuanjui to act like this, like he had been waiting for it all along.
Your text tone went off like an alarm in your back pocket and you backed up to check it, hoping it wasn't anything actually important. Life was not on your side today because it was Wumuti saying you needed to return his dancer so they could pack up and leave. You rolled your eyes at the notice and sighed, leaning in for one last kiss before you had to let him go.
Kuanjui just smiled through it, clearly happy at all that had transpired for him today.
"Hey, if you want, I can see if I can come over after. I can wear a crop top and everything." Kuanjui said after you separated, giving you a wink for good measure.
It took all you had not to dramatically sink to your knees in front of him, and instead you settled for letting your head fall against the door and groaning loudly. He would be the death of you, but at least he was your boyfriend in the process.
Jungwon is curled up under the covers like a burrito. The blanket’s pulled up over his shoulder, one hand tucked beneath his pillow, the soft rise and fall of his back the only sign of life. His breathing is calm, steady—blissfully unaware of the menace crawling closer with every second.
You smirk down at him.
Then lean in and press a kiss right behind his ear.
He flinches.
You kiss his cheek.
“Mmmn… don’t,” he mumbles, voice muffled into the pillow.
You kiss the other cheek. His brow twitches.
“Stop it,” he grumbles, turning his face further away—but now you have access to the back of his neck.
Bad move.
You press a string of slow, exaggerated kisses along his nape. Jungwon jerks in place and swats at you blindly.
“Yahh, I said stop!”
“I heard you,” you say innocently. “I just chose not to listen.”
“Seriously—ugh, you’re so—” He tries to roll over, but you shift with him, blanket and all, kissing his jaw as he glares up at you with sleepy, narrowed eyes. “You’re a demon.”
“Good morning to you too, angel.”
“I was having a nice dream.”
“Oh?” You nuzzle into his neck. “Was it about me?”
“No. It was about you shutting up and letting me sleep,” he deadpans, though the heat creeping up his ears says otherwise.
You chuckle and kiss the tip of his nose. “Liar.”
“I hate this. I hate you.”
“Mm. Cute.”
Jungwon groans and flops back against the pillow, face turned away as he tries to pull the blanket over his head. But you beat him to it, pinning the covers down with one hand and leaning in to kiss the space just below his ear.
“I can do this all day,” you whisper.
He whines softly. “Why are you like this…”
You pull back slightly. “Alright, fine. I’ll stop.”
He sighs in relief.
And then you lean in again—pressing a kiss right to his temple before pulling away completely.
But then—
“…Wait.”
You pause halfway off the bed, raising an eyebrow.
Jungwon hasn’t moved, but his voice comes out soft. “…Come back.”
You grin. “Didn’t you hate me thirty seconds ago?”
“Shut up,” he mutters into the pillow. “You’re annoying.”
“So annoying you want more kisses?”
He says nothing, but when you shift back into bed, he reaches out and grabs a fistful of your shirt to pull you closer.
You oblige, pressing your mouth to his slowly. His lips are warm, pliant, sleepy. He doesn’t kiss back right away, just lets you claim him—lazy, quiet surrender. Then, finally, he hums and moves with you, sliding a hand up to cup the back of your neck.
When you pull away, he squints up at you.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You brush the hair off his forehead. “You say that every day.”
“I mean it every day.”
You smile. “Now scoot over. I’m not going anywhere.”
He hums, rolling back into your chest, his pout fading as you wrap an arm around him.
Ten seconds later, he’s asleep again.
And you stay right there, watching over him like a particularly clingy body pillow.
Perfect morning achieved.
_____________________________________________
I’m gonna start posting BTS soon , maybe even seventeen; mainly Joshua, jeonghan, maybe even scoups , Hoshi , Jun , Dk , or probably all of them . ⚠️ No idea yet but coming soon ⚠️
xlov having a genderless concept... xlov proudly embracing queer culture... xlov being comfortable with any pronouns... xlov pushing for companies to allow trans evols to use their chosen names instead of their deadnames for fansigns... xlov telling queer evols that we're safe with them, they are our home, and that We are also a safe space for Them... the group ever
strap obsessed leehan!? let's get into it (pun intended)
he's really shy to bring up the idea at first, but shyness definietly doesn't stop him...because this boy has been dreaming of you strapping him since the moment you two started having sex
i can see him being really blushy about it, hiding his face in your neck as he asks-- but as soon as you say yes? this man turns into a sluuuuttt 😛✨
he loves loves loves loves LOVES the feeling of being full, taking you so deep that the two of you are practically cuddle fucking before you slide out of him just to fill him back up again, his legs shaking with every thrust
will he be saying dirty shit like "cum in me" ... YESSSSSSS SIRRRR 🥳
he dont gaf if it's silicone!! he said nut in him!!!
lowkey i can see him having a breeding kink...except his ass is the one being bred!!
also, he is SUCH a strap sucker. i can see him licking it from the base to the tip, keeping his big boba eyes on you the entire time before taking the toy in his mouth and purposefully gagging on it because he fucking loves how messy his face gets with the drool
"mmm mmm mmm pegging☺️" - leehan, probably
something funny ~ 🍈
all im gonna say is... this might be the best one yet...~ 🍓
Synopsis: Your boyfriend comes over and the two of you have a sort of art date. But he’s more interested in drawing on you than on paper.
Warnings: the lyrics are literal, mentions of reader having self harmed in the past, reader has depression, this is short, like six paragraphs maybe
Divider Credit here by @fae-and-wolf
Wumuti had finally been able to take a break from his group’s recent comeback. So you invited him to your house for a little get together. You had missed him so much, and the two of you agreed to draw together.
When he showed up at your door, you pretty much almost tackled him to the ground. Which made him chuckle a bit. “I missed you too, love.” He whispered against your skin, hugging you tightly. You hummed and just laid in his hold for a bit. He felt so warm and comfortable. Safe. Wumuti held you tight. His hugs were always warm and comforting. “Come in.” You muttered. “I set up some sketch books and acrylic markers for us.” He nodded. “I got some oranges at a nearby market for you.” You smiled and nuzzled against him. “Aw thank you, baby.”
The two of you were set up in the kitchen island. It was the evening and the sun was at an angle that cast almost perfect shadows through the windows. You had turned on some calming music and grabbed the acrylic markers. Your sketchbook was open to a drawing of a landscape. A cliffside with a lighthouse.
Meanwhile Wumuti was more interested in drawing on your arm. He grabbed one of the outline pens you had from its case and inched closer to one of your arms, gently lifting your sleeve. The old and faded scars didn’t surprise or bother him. And instead he would kiss each one and draw little stars and hearts on them. “You don’t have to.” You whispered. He hummed and kept on going, with a small smile on his face. “You’re beautiful.” You nodded and kept on working on your art. “Am I now?” Wumuti kept on drawing little stars and hearts, almost littering your arm with them. “Yes, you are. The prettiest boy in the world. And I love you.”
“Even with the scars and the pain?” You asked. He moved closer and wrapped one of his arms around you. “Even with the scars and the pain.” And he pressed a small kiss to your cheek.
Could you write wumuti finding out he has a mommy kink when reader calls him mommy as a joke and maybe later wumuti asks reader to call him that again??? Please??
They had just finished a long day of filming content for the fans, and (y/n) was nearly melting into the couch in one of the practice rooms, the hem of his oversized tee riding up his stomach as he sprawled out across the cushions with sleepy, post-performance limbs. His curls were damp with sweat and his cheeks pink, a sheen of exhaustion painted all over his expression. Even like this, WuWumuti thought he was painfully beautiful.
“You need to eat more than that,” Wumuti chided gently as he handed (y/n) a neatly arranged bento box he had picked up while the others were filming their solo shots. He crouched in front of him, pulling out a pair of chopsticks and offering the first bite straight to (y/n)’s lips.
“I’m not that hungry,” (y/n) mumbled, still chewing the last of a rice ball.
“You need to eat. Come on, one more bite.”
(y/n) opened his mouth with a dramatic sigh, letting Wumuti feed him another piece.
“That’s my good boy.”
Wumuti didn’t even register what he’d said until (y/n)’s eyes flicked up at him, amused and sharp, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
“You really do treat me like a spoiled boyfriend, you know,” (y/n) teased, licking some sauce from his lip.
“Maybe you are,” Wumuti shot back easily, taking a napkin and wiping the corner of (y/n)’s mouth. “You’re mine. Someone’s gotta look after you.”
(y/n) gave him a smug little smile and leaned into the touch, his voice a low purr.
“If you keep babying me like this, I’m gonna start calling you mommy.”
Wumuti froze.
It hit him like a truck. Something in his chest clenched, lower belly tensing with a heat that spread too fast, too deep. He stared at (y/n), expression caught somewhere between stunned and turned on.
(y/n) noticed immediately. “…Oh?” he said slowly, lips curving into a wicked grin. “Did that do something to you?”
Wumuti stood up, grabbing the now-empty bento box, trying to play it off with a tight laugh.
“Eat the rest. I’m gonna grab you water.”
He left the room a little too quickly.
But all day, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way it sounded in (y/n)’s voice. The playful tone edged with just enough sincerity to rattle something inside him. And now, no matter how many times he reminded himself to keep it cool, his thoughts kept looping back to it like a siren call.
Mommy.
By the time they got back to Wumuti’s apartment that night, (y/n) had long since dropped the joke and was lounging in bed after his shower, towel wrapped low on his hips, curls damp, phone in hand as he scrolled lazily through something.
Wumuti was pacing.
“You okay?” (y/n) asked, not looking up.
Wumuti ran a hand through his hair, then turned and crossed the room in three fast strides. He stood at the foot of the bed, towering over him, arms crossed.
“Say it again.”
(y/n) blinked. “Huh?”
“That thing you said. At the studio.”
(y/n)’s lips curled. He pushed himself up onto his elbows slowly.
“You really liked that, huh.”
“Say it.”
“Mommy,” (y/n) said softly, licking his bottom lip.
Wumuti exhaled hard through his nose, jaw tight.
“Again.”
“Mommy.”
Wumuti climbed onto the bed like a man possessed, crawling up between (y/n)’s legs and catching his mouth in a kiss that was anything but sweet. His hands were already pulling at the towel, tossing it aside. He kissed (y/n) until he was breathless, dragging his fingers down his chest, nails grazing over his ribs before gripping his thighs and spreading them apart.
“You shouldn’t have said that if you didn’t want to find out what it does to me.”
“I did want to,” (y/n) breathed. “I wanted to see what it would make you do.”
“Fucking brat,” Wumuti groaned, pressing open-mouth kisses to the inside of his thigh. “All that teasing. You want mommy to lose control?”
“Yes. Want you to lose control all over me.”
Wumuti’s eyes darkened. He grabbed the back of (y/n)’s knee, lifting it, folding him in half so fast it knocked a gasp out of (y/n)’s chest. He kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, pouring the tension of the day into it. When he pulled away, his voice dropped to a low, hungry murmur.
“Stay still.”
He reached for the lube on his nightstand, slicking his fingers quickly before pressing one inside, working (y/n) open with precision and care. (y/n) whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, hips rolling into the motion.
“That’s it. Let me stretch you out,” Wumuti whispered, brushing kisses along his jaw. “My pretty boy. Always so good for me.”
“Only for you,” (y/n) panted.
“Say it again.”
“Mommy.”
Wumuti moaned, adding a second finger and curling them just right.
“You’re gonna drive me crazy.”
He kept at it until (y/n) was whining, sweat prickling across his skin, toes curling from how sensitive he already was. Then, with one hand braced on (y/n)’s hip, he lined himself up and pushed in slow, deep, every inch dragging a needy sound from (y/n)’s throat.
“Fuck,” Wumuti gritted out. “You feel like heaven.”
(y/n)’s back arched, legs trembling as he tried to take all of him. He was already so close, already gone.
“More. Please more..-”
“You think you can take all of mommy’s cock?” Wumuti groaned, voice ragged. “You think you deserve it?”
“Y-Yes, please..-”
Wumuti started moving. Slow at first, then harder, deeper, building into a rhythm that had (y/n) gasping with every thrust. His hands were everywhere, gripping (y/n)’s hips, dragging his nails down his back, tilting his chin up so he could watch his face as he wrecked him.
“You look so good like this. All fucked out. Taking me so well.”
“Don’t stop..- don’t stop..-”
“Not until you beg.”
“I am begging.”
“Say it again.”
“Mommy..- please..-want you to come inside me..- need it..-”
Wumuti slammed into him harder, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, (y/n)’s cries getting higher, more desperate. Wumuti angled his hips and hit that spot that made (y/n) see stars.
“That’s it. Come for me.”
“I-I can’t..-”
“Yes, you can. Come for mommy.”
(y/n) came with a choked cry, body locking up, clenching around Wumuti so tight it pulled a broken moan from his throat. Wumuti didn’t last long after that, thrusting deep once, twice, before groaning (y/n)’s name and spilling inside him, his grip almost bruising.
They collapsed into each other, sticky and shaking.
Wumuti didn’t pull out right away. He kissed (y/n)’s temple, brushing the sweat-damp hair from his forehead. He stroked his cheek with his thumb, eyes full of something soft and wild all at once.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
(y/n) nodded, still catching his breath.
“You really like being called mommy, huh.”
Wumuti smiled. “Only when you say it.”
(y/n) kissed him again, slow and messy. “Then I guess I’ll have to say it more often.”
“You better,” Wumuti whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. “Because now that I’ve heard it… I don’t think I can go back.”
They stayed like that, tangled under the sheets, (y/n) still full, still twitching from the aftershocks. Wumuti tucked him in, kissed every inch he could reach, and promised to run him a hot bath in a bit.
heyy. can i request reader taking care of xlov while they're sick or injured, and how they'd react? either individual instances or the whole group at the same time, i don't mind <3 thx 💋
— take care
xlov | male reader
Wumuti ~
The moment (y/n) stepped into the practice room, he knew something was off.
The music was still playing, but the energy felt fractured — like a painting with a smudged center. Muti was sitting on the edge of the mirrored wall, sweat-drenched and breathing through his teeth, one leg stretched out awkwardly in front of him.
(y/n) crossed the room in three strides.
“What the hell happened?”
Wumuti didn’t look at him. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t look fine.” (y/n) knelt in front of him, eyes narrowing at the sight of Muti’s ankle already swelling beneath the elastic of his dance shoes. “Is that why they called me? Because ‘fine’ means you can’t stand up without flinching?”
“I can stand,” Muti said, as if to prove it. He shifted his weight and immediately winced.
(y/n) glared. “Sit down.”
For once, Muti obeyed.
Someone had already brought over an ice pack, but it was still sealed. (y/n) tore it open, activating the cold compress with a firm shake before gently pressing it to Muti’s ankle. Muti hissed, jerking slightly.
“Oh, now you feel something,” (y/n) muttered.
“I felt it when I did it,” Muti said through gritted teeth. “Just thought I could dance through it.”
“You thought wrong.”
A pause stretched between them. The others had cleared out by now. It was just the two of them, (y/n) crouched in front of Wumuti like some frustrated field medic.
“I said I’m fine, not broken.”
“You’re sprained, not invincible.”
Muti huffed a breath and finally looked at him. “You always get this worked up when I’m hurt?”
“I always get this worked up when someone I care about tries to dance on a sprained ankle.”
There it was — that flicker in Wumuti’s eyes. Just for a second. Then:
“If you wanted to hold my foot, you could’ve just asked.”
(y/n) rolled his eyes and shoved the ice pack a little harder against his skin. “I should’ve left you in the hallway.”
Muti grinned. “But you didn’t.”
“No. Because I knew you’d try to crawl back into rehearsal with a broken leg.”
(y/n) shifted back slightly, sitting beside him now instead of in front, the ice pack resting on Muti’s ankle, his hand still pressing it gently in place. A silence settled. It wasn’t tense — it was full.
“I hate sitting still,” Muti said eventually, voice lower now. “Hate feeling like I’m not doing enough.”
“You’re not doing nothing,” (y/n) said softly. “You’re healing. That’s just a different kind of work.”
Muti turned to him again. His expression wasn’t smug anymore. “You always say the right thing, huh?”
“I just don’t lie to you.”
Another beat of silence.
Then Wumuti leaned his head back against the mirror with a sigh. “Stay here. Just for a bit.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded, almost shyly, and shifted until his legs were stretched across the floor and his head was resting against (y/n)’s shoulder. His body was warm. Heavy. Trusting.
“You know,” he said, after a while, voice drifting, “you’re the only one I’d let see me like this.”
(y/n) glanced down at him, surprised. Muti’s eyes were already closed.
“…I know,” (y/n) said, almost a whisper. “And I’ll be here the whole time.”
Rui ~
The first sign that something was wrong came at 10 a.m., when Rui didn’t post a single selfie.
The second sign was when (y/n) walked past the living room and found Rui curled up under three blankets on the couch, hoodie strings pulled tight until only the tip of his nose was visible.
“…Rui?”
A sniffle. Then a dramatic sigh. “(y/n)… is that you? I can’t see… I think… I’m fading…”
(y/n) blinked. “You’re being so normal today.”
“I’m dying,” Rui groaned, voice croaky and weak. “Like, actually. Probably in the next hour or two. My body — this flawless vessel — is betraying me.”
(y/n) walked over, knelt beside the couch, and placed the back of his hand on Rui’s forehead. Warm. Definitely a fever. But not deathly.
“You have a cold.”
Rui’s eyes peeked out from under the blanket, glassy and pathetic. “A terrible cold. My nose has rebelled. My throat is sandpaper. My skin is dry. I’m — what’s the word — wilting. Like a beautiful, fragile flower.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Not denying it.” Rui sniffled again, then reached out with both arms, grasping at air. “Hold me.”
(y/n) raised an eyebrow. “So you do have the energy to be annoying.”
“(y/n)…” Rui wheezed, flopping over like a fainting royal. “Please. This may be the last time we speak. I need you… close.”
(y/n) sighed but let Rui grab the sleeve of his hoodie, tugging him down until their foreheads were pressed lightly together.
“You’re hot,” (y/n) murmured.
“I know,” Rui croaked, voice scratchy and smug. “Even now.”
“I meant your forehead.”
“Oh.”
Still, he didn’t let go.
(y/n) stood again and disappeared into the kitchen. Rui groaned dramatically from the couch like it was his deathbed.
“I feel your absence in my soul…”
“Shut up and drink this,” (y/n) said when he returned, kneeling beside him with a mug of warm honey-ginger tea.
Rui sat up slowly, taking the cup with both hands like it was the elixir of life. “You made this for me?”
“Do you see anyone else sick?”
Rui sipped carefully, then made a satisfied sound. “You’re good at this. Nurse (y/n). My savior. My angel.”
(y/n) pressed his knuckles to Rui’s flushed cheek. “You really shouldn’t have gone out in the cold without a jacket yesterday.”
“I needed the aesthetic,” Rui muttered, already sinking back into the pillows.
“You needed common sense.”
There was no answer. Rui had passed out mid-sip, the cup barely hanging on in his hands. (y/n) sighed, took it gently away, and set it on the table. He pulled the blankets tighter around Rui and ran his fingers through sweat-dampened hair, brushing it off his forehead.
Rui stirred. “…Still here?”
“Yeah.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t leave. It’s cold.”
“I won’t.” (y/n) settled down beside the couch, Rui’s hand reaching down to tangle loosely in the sleeve of his hoodie again.
A few quiet minutes passed. The rain started outside, soft against the window panes.
Then, in a murmur so faint (y/n) almost didn’t catch it:
“I think I like you… even when I’m dying…”
(y/n) froze. Rui was already asleep, breath soft and even.
He didn’t reply. Just leaned his head back against the couch, a quiet smile playing on his lips.
Hyun ~
The cameras had stopped rolling, but the lights were still hot.
Hyun sat with his back pressed against a stage pillar, arms draped over his bent knees, sweat clinging to his skin like regret. Everyone else was celebrating the last MV take, chattering about dinner, about how great the final cut looked. But Hyun’s ears were ringing.
He hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours. He hadn’t slept properly in four days. It didn’t matter.
It never mattered — until the edges of his vision blurred and his head started to sway.
He barely registered the sound of someone calling his name until it was closer. Quieter. Worried.
“Hyun?”
He looked up, eyes unfocused. The silhouette that knelt in front of him came into clarity slowly. A familiar frown etched into every line of his face.
(y/n).
“Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, voice even but tight.
Hyun opened his mouth to answer, but what came out was more of a sigh. His body slumped sideways. (y/n) caught him instantly.
“Hey — hey. You’re burning up.”
“I just… need a minute,” Hyun mumbled, trying to sit back up. His hands trembled as he pushed against the floor. “I’m fine.”
(y/n) didn’t respond. He just gently grasped Hyun’s wrist, thumb brushing over the faint pulse there, before helping him into a seated position against the wall. Then he stood, exchanged quick words with the staff, and reappeared with a bottle of water and something wrapped in foil.
“Eat first,” he said, unwrapping a rice triangle and holding it out. “Then argue.”
Hyun stared at it for a second too long before accepting it. His fingers were shaking. He hated that (y/n) could see.
“I didn’t mean to—” Hyun started, but (y/n) cut him off gently.
“I know.”
Hyun chewed in silence, eyes down. His pride felt heavier than his body. “Don’t tell the others. Please.”
“I won’t,” (y/n) said. “But they’re worried, too. You don’t always have to be the one carrying the weight.”
Hyun laughed, but it came out brittle. “Feels like I do.”
(y/n) didn’t respond right away. He waited until Hyun had finished eating, handed him the water bottle, and then quietly sat beside him on the cool studio floor. Not touching — just close.
“Why?” (y/n) asked eventually. “Why do you push so hard when no one’s asking you to?”
Hyun didn’t answer for a long time. Then:
“Because if I stop, I feel like I’ll fall behind. Like someone better will come and take my place. Like I’ll fade.”
(y/n)’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “You won’t. You’re not behind. You’re here. That’s already enough.”
Hyun’s throat tightened. He turned his head, not to hide — but to see. (y/n)’s gaze was steady, open in a way that made it hard to lie to himself.
“I’m not used to being looked after,” Hyun said quietly.
“Then get used to it,” (y/n) replied, brushing Hyun’s sweat-damp hair from his forehead. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Something in Hyun cracked. Not loudly — not visibly. Just a tiny, silent shift. A wall loosened. A breath exhaled.
“…Will you stay?” he asked. “Just for a little?”
(y/n) nodded. “Yeah.”
They didn’t move. Hyun leaned his shoulder lightly into (y/n)’s. Not enough to fall asleep, but enough to feel that someone was there.
That someone saw him.
Haru ~
(y/n) didn’t even knock before pushing open Haru’s bedroom door.
“Haru, what the hell were you thinking—”
He stopped short at the sight in front of him.
The youngest was a bundled mess in bed, swaddled in two comforters, a hoodie drawn over his flushed face, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead. His cheeks were red from fever. His nose was stuffy. His ears poked out pathetically from the mountain of fabric.
“…Hi,” Haru croaked, voice hoarse and faintly nasal. “You came.”
(y/n) sighed, long and deep, before closing the door behind him. “You snuck out at midnight… in the rain… in a tank top. For ice cream.”
“It was the mint one,” Haru mumbled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m sick,” Haru whined, sinking deeper under the blanket. “You can’t yell at me when I’m sick. That’s emotional abuse.”
(y/n) walked over, pressed the back of his hand to Haru’s forehead, and frowned at the heat radiating off his skin. “That’s called consequences.”
Haru just blinked up at him, glassy-eyed and pouty. “Are you gonna take care of me or not?”
(y/n) looked heavenward for patience. “Yes, you idiot.”
Haru beamed. Weakly. “I knew you loved me.”
“You have a 38.8°C fever. You can barely sit up.”
“Still counts.”
(y/n) disappeared for a moment and returned with medicine, a water bottle, and a bowl of lukewarm porridge. Haru grimaced. “You cooked?”
“It’s instant.”
“Oh thank God.”
(y/n) set everything down on the nightstand. “Sit up. You need to eat something before you take the meds.”
Haru tried. He really did. But the moment he shifted upward, he made a soft noise of protest and flopped right into (y/n)’s chest, arms loosely wrapping around his middle.
“…Okay,” Haru mumbled, cheek pressed to (y/n)’s hoodie. “This is good too.”
(y/n) froze, then sighed, reaching around to support him with one arm. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“I am lucky,” Haru mumbled, sleepy now, clutching at him like a koala. “You’re warm. And nice. And mean in a good way.”
“You’re delirious.”
“You’re pretty when you’re mad.”
(y/n) rolled his eyes, but his hand was already brushing through Haru’s hair, careful around the sweat-damp strands. Haru melted at the touch, eyelids fluttering shut, his breathing slowing.
“You always come when I’m hurting,” Haru whispered.
(y/n) looked down at him — this stubborn, sweet, ridiculous boy who ran out into the rain for a mint popsicle — and softened.
“Of course I do.”
Haru shifted, murmuring something else. (y/n) leaned in.
“I think I like you,” Haru breathed, warm and drowsy. “Even when you’re grumpy.”
(y/n)’s heart did something traitorous in his chest.
Haru drifted off before he could hear the quiet answer:
Hello! Could you write something with ot4 xlov and a super affectionate 5th member reader please?? Sorry if this is not detailed enough 😓
— the (y/n) effect
xlov | male reader
warnings: none
It was a running joke among EVOLs that XLOV wasn’t a five-member group — it was four members and their golden retriever.
And his name was (y/n).
From the moment the group debuted in January 2025, it was obvious: while Rui dazzled with his elegance, Hyun stood tall and brooding, Wumuti exuded leader energy, and Haru bounced with maknae charm — (y/n)? (y/n) was love, personified.
And he showed it. Constantly.
During fan meetings, (y/n) had a habit of latching onto whichever member was closest. Sometimes it was Rui, who he’d drape himself across while whining about wanting boba. Sometimes it was Haru, whom he’d lift into a hug with zero hesitation (despite Haru shrieking every time, “형! Not in front of fans!!”).
During livestreams, he’d wander from one side of the couch to the other, curling up next to Hyun and poking at his cheeks until the stoic main vocalist broke into a rare, soft smile. Other times, (y/n) would plant himself in Wumuti’s lap — totally unbothered — and start playing with the leader’s rings while talking to the fans like this was normal.
And the thing was — it was.
Because from the start, (y/n) had been this way. Touchy, warm, and blunt in the most endearing ways.
“Hyung,” he once said during a V LIVE, glancing at Wumuti, “you need to stop looking at the camera like that. People are gonna fall in love.”
The chat exploded. Wumuti flushed and swatted at him, but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at his lips.
At a fan sign, (y/n) had spent ten whole minutes gushing to a fan about Rui’s new choreography, going on and on while the fan giggled and Rui quietly tried to hide behind his pink hair.
“Look at him,” (y/n) said, gesturing like Rui was a piece of art. “Look. He’s insane. Do you even understand how flexible he is? I saw him warm up and I got jealous. Like. What the hell.”
Rui, red as a tomato, tried to shush him. “Stoppp, hyung!”
“But it’s true!” (y/n) grinned, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Our Rui is the prettiest dancer.”
Public affection? Unfiltered compliments? (y/n) lived for them.
Haru, the baby of the group, was both thrilled and overwhelmed by it.
“He hugs me like ten times a day,” Haru once said during a behind-the-scenes video, holding up fingers to count. “Morning hug, post-practice hug, I’m-sad hug, you-did-well hug… He even kissed my cheek once when I won rock-paper-scissors.”
“Because you looked so cute,” (y/n) called from off-camera.
EVOLs lost their minds when the video aired.
But the most unexpected reactions came from Hyun. At first, fans assumed the tall, quiet member would keep his distance. But Hyun surprised everyone. He didn’t initiate — no — but when (y/n) came barreling into his arms after a live stage, Hyun always opened them. When (y/n) leaned on his shoulder during rehearsals, Hyun let him. And when (y/n) wordlessly intertwined their pinkies under the table during interviews?
Hyun squeezed back.
It wasn’t just love. It was trust.
Wumuti, on the other hand, handled (y/n)’s affection like a seasoned older brother — with playful annoyance and soft indulgence.
“(y/n)-yah,” he once groaned during a livestream, “if you hug me one more time I’m gonna charge you for back pain therapy.”
(y/n), curled up against his side, laughed and poked his ribs. “You love it.”
“…Maybe.”
But nothing topped the concert moments.
During the June comeback tour for “1&only,” fans screamed when (y/n) ran across the stage mid-performance and hugged Haru from behind, nuzzling into his neck and making the younger jump. During the final ment, when everyone was crying, (y/n) wiped Rui’s tears with his sleeve and kissed the top of his head. When Wumuti started thanking the fans in Chinese, (y/n) silently slipped his hand into his.
And Hyun — god. Hyun didn’t say much, as usual, but when (y/n) turned to him with glossy eyes and whispered, “We did it,” Hyun just… pulled him in. Tight. Protective.
The group knew. The fans knew.
(y/n) wasn’t just the fifth member of XLOV. He was the glue. The warmth. The living heartbeat between them.
Later, in a behind-the-scenes clip, the members were asked how they dealt with (y/n)’s constant affection.
Wumuti: “It’s exhausting.” [grinning] “But also… if he ever stops, I’ll be concerned.”
Rui: “It makes me flustered… but I like it. He says what we’re all thinking, you know?”
Haru: “I pretend I hate it. But honestly? I love being his favorite.”
Hyun: pauses for a long moment, then smiles faintly “He doesn’t know how much he helps us.”
And (y/n)?
When asked why he was so affectionate, he only shrugged.
“Because I love them,” he said, plain and simple. “Why hide it?”
hii, i was wondering if you could do some haru x reader? preferably hurt/comfort but honestly any ideas you want to write are fine <33
— still mine
haru (xlov) | male reader
warnings: hurt / comfort, haru's crying and having doubts, reader comforts him
The dorm was quiet.
A rare thing, really. Usually, even late at night, there was some hum of life — Rui humming through his skincare routine, Wumuti typing lyrics under his breath, Hyun pacing slowly with earbuds in.
But tonight, there was none of that.
And (y/n) noticed.
He’d only meant to drop off the sketchbook Haru had left in the practice room. It wasn’t unusual — Haru forgot things all the time, scattering belongings across the dorm like crumbs. But this time, something had tugged at (y/n). A hunch. A gut feeling. So he climbed the stairs to the maknae’s room, sketchbook hugged to his chest, and paused at the door.
Light seeped under it.
But there was no music, no humming, no animated stream of Japanese muttering.
Just… silence.
(y/n) knocked softly. “Haru?”
No answer.
He hesitated before slowly pushing the door open. “You left your sketchbook—”
Then he saw him.
Haru was curled up on the bed, knees tucked to his chest, a hoodie pulled up over his head like he wanted to disappear. His back was to the door, but (y/n) could hear it — tiny, hitched breaths. Not full sobs, but silent, shivering ones, the kind you try to hide. The kind that hurt worse.
(y/n)’s chest clenched.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
“Hey…” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he crossed the room. “Haru. I’m here.”
The bed creaked a little as he sat on the edge, sketchbook forgotten on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” came the muffled reply, the first sound from Haru. “I didn’t mean to cry.”
(y/n) blinked. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because it’s stupid. I should be grateful. I am grateful. I just…” Haru’s voice cracked. “I feel like I can’t breathe lately.”
(y/n) turned, slowly reaching out, resting his hand gently on Haru’s back. “You don’t have to explain. But you can, if you want to.”
A beat of silence. Then: “I keep thinking… what if I’m the weakest link? What if I drag everyone down?” He let out a shaky breath. “Everyone’s so good. So talented. Hyun’s tall and strong and cool. Rui dances like a prince. Wumuti’s a genius. And I’m just… loud. I mess up. I cry too easily. I’m not even that good of a singer. I try so hard and it never feels like enough.”
(y/n) closed his eyes.
It hurt, hearing that. Because Haru was none of those things he said — not really. Not to (y/n).
“You don’t have to be perfect,” (y/n) said quietly. “You don’t have to be anyone else. You’re already enough. You’re bright and brave and full of life. You bring energy to every room. You try so hard, Haru. And that’s beautiful. That’s enough.”
He slowly tugged the blanket back, and Haru didn’t resist when (y/n) eased in behind him, pulling the younger boy into his arms. Haru trembled but leaned into the warmth. For the first time that night, he exhaled.
“I’m scared,” Haru whispered.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You won’t,” (y/n) said firmly, brushing a strand of hair from Haru’s damp cheek. “You could fall apart a hundred times and I’d still be here. Still proud of you.”
Haru buried his face in (y/n)’s chest.
And finally — finally — he cried.
Not the hidden, quiet kind. But open, raw sobs, the kind you let out only when you know someone’s holding you steady enough to weather them.
(y/n) didn’t flinch. He held him tighter, his thumb stroking slow circles into Haru’s back.
They stayed like that for a long time.
When the tears slowed, Haru mumbled sleepily, “Thank you, (y/n)…”
And (y/n), heart full and aching all at once, kissed his forehead and whispered, “You’re my Haru. Always will be.”
