#tws fic

[tanghuyuj]

BF TEXTS W/ DOHOON

pairing: idol!dohoon x fem!reader ; genre: fluff, humor(?), smau ; warnings: mention of eating someone and i think that’s it ; @kstrucknet !

maia’s note: dohoon has been bias wrecking me so badly lately. likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated!! 🩶

please do not repost, copy, or translate.

[bambisnc]

     [fairy of shampoo] or, how tws would be when you're sick

 PAIRING : ot6 x reader! GENRE : fluff CW/TW : reader is sick WC : 0.3k  SUGGESTED 🎧: fairy of shampoo, dosii XOXO : inspo really be hitting only when  im sick huh. shoutout my 4th sickfic fic + [m.list]

these guys would be super careful and wear a mask to not catch anything while they're taking care of you. would be more than willing to run to get you meds from the pharmacy, tissues, heat packs or the any snacks you're craving from the convenience store at quite literally any time you ask it of him from dawn to midnight. (you wouldn't even have to ask honestly, he'd just know.) he'd go into full male wife mode - cook for you, clean for you, everything. + would not be super physically affectionate (unless you specifically ask for it) but!! would give the most comforting forehead kisses (w the mask on! we stan a cautious king; can't have him falling sick because he needs to take care of you <3) °˖➴ [DOHOON, YOUNGJAE, HANJIN]

unlike the ones above, these guys would be just so, so clingy. would order everything you need/ask for online bc they're definitely keeping you wrapped up in their arms 24/7, cuddling w you and peppering you w kisses all over (unless ofc, you specifically tell them you're not comfortable being touched at which point they'd give you space but still ensure that you don't move an inch out of their sight). would nawt be wearing a mask Despite that and when you voice out your concerns over them getting sick would just say "oh c'mon baby,.. pretty boys don't get sick >.<" +++ 99% would get sick right after LMFAO °˖➴ [SHINYU, JIHOON, KYUNGMIN]

bonus : lowkey this one would be a mixture of both :P would order stuff but run outside to buy things too. he'd actually be super careful at first but then end up slipping and kiss you or something and then get sick right after </3 y'all might need to get someone else entirely to look after n take care of you both ..... °˖➴ [TAESAN]

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k24

[slytherinshua]

MISUNDERSTOOD KISS

genre. fluff. warnings. small misunderstanding. shinyu is vv shy. first kiss :( not proofread. pairing. shinyu x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by anon. a/n. finally came back to finish this bcuz it's been just dying in my drafts for a hot minute ngl 😭 but i gotta feed the starved sai's as much as i can <333

Junghwan had been thinking of it for weeks now. Whenever he tried to get his mind off of it, it only backfired. “It” was, of course, your lips. Junghwan swore you were doing it on purpose, putting on the prettiest lip glosses and lip tints just to tempt him. They only made your lips seem all the more inviting.

But the problem was, you had only been dating for a few weeks. Sure, you had been friends for years and were more comfortable with each other than anyone else, but you both wanted to take it slow. Junghwan would hate to rush something as important as your first kiss.

He’d never kissed anyone before, and the thought of it made him hot in the face. He was sure he was crazy for thinking about it so much. Why was he so down bad for you?

You were already like an addiction to him. Just seeing you made his day a million times better— he just knew that the second he tasted your lips, there would be no going back. He could barely even comprehend how obsessed he would be with your kisses. Hugs already made him feel giddy and so so in love. And when you cuddled with him? God, he was so whipped for you.

He had always been shier than you, more reserved and quiet. That was how you became friends in the first place; you basically adopted him as your friend. He would forever be grateful to you for that. He would probably still be the socially anxious loser kid he used to be if you hadn’t helped him out of his shell in high school. Now that you were both in college and dating, things were quite different. He finally had friends, a girlfriend, and was more confident than ever before.

But that didn’t change the fact that you still made him shy. Thinking about you caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach and his heart to melt right out of his chest. You meant so much to him, and in some ways, he was deathly afraid of messing something up. If he started moving too fast, would that scare you? 

The lingering doubts stopped him from making a move to kiss you already, although there had been several times he had come incredibly close to it. During one movie night, he could’ve sworn you started to lean in. Another occasion when he had walked you home, you had stalled at your doorstep, as if waiting for him to do something. But Junghwan was still terrified of messing up… so he took the safe option.

“Is there something… wrong? With me?” You asked, deciding to finally address something that had been bothering you for a while. 

You had been dating Junghwan for almost 2 months now, and he still hadn’t kissed you. Despite your attempts to silently let him know that you were okay with it; leaning in when the timing felt right, picking romance movies with obvious kiss scenes, even bringing it up in conversation at times. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and you were starting to think that maybe he didn’t want to kiss you at all.

“No. You’re perfect, why would you think that?” Junghwan’s answer came so quick and sure, like he didn’t even have to think about it. If he was so convinced about it, then why hadn’t he made a move yet?

“We’ve been dating for almost 2 months now…” Junghwan looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. You took a breath, “We still haven’t kissed yet. Is there something… unattractive about me? Do you not want to? Was I the only one constantly thinking about it?”

Your boyfriend blinked, stunned by your question. Of all the things he expected you to bring up, it definitely wasn’t this. He had never even considered that what he thought of as taking the ‘safe option’ in order to assure he didn’t make you uncomfortable, was causing doubts in your mind about his affection for you. No wonder he felt like he was messing up so badly.

“No, oh my gosh, no! Y/n, I swear, I’ve thought about it too. Every day— I want to kiss you, I swear! I really, really—” His panicked rambling was cut off by you, by your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore. He was so fucking cute. You could instantly forgive him for all the weeks of doubting and overthinking he had put you through, finding him incredibly endearing as he tried to fix the mess he had made. You couldn’t help but focus on his lips as the words started to spill out. Those same lips that you had been so fixated on for weeks, longing to taste for so long. 

It was like he was purposefully testing you every time he licked them or subconsciously nibbled on them. They always looked so incredibly soft and plush. Now that you were finally feeling them under yours, you could only describe the feeling as euphoric. It was everything you could’ve hoped for— even better than you could’ve imagined, in fact.

He gasped in surprise when you cut his words off, but his eyes were quick to flutter shut at the feeling of your lips. Junghwan had been originally worried that the kiss might be awkward, that his rhythm would be wrong, or that he would go too fast or too slow. But you found him perfect. 

He was slow. He was gentle and soft and caring, kissing you as if any slight amount of pressure too much would break you. And you loved it. It felt safe. Junghwan always made you feel that way, like nothing about him could ever scare you. He would always go exactly at your pace, making sure you were comfortable no matter what. He never overstepped, never expected anything overwhelming from you. Even as he kissed you, his lips portrayed the same feeling. The kiss was tentative just like his nature, but you could feel the eagerness and longing that he held at the same time. 

When you pulled apart, he was breathless. It felt like the kiss had consumed him entirely and left his mind spinning endlessly. He could barely think of what to do next, but he knew that he wanted to feel your lips on his again, so he decided to be bold, pulling you back into his arms despite his breathless state.

“Kiss me again.”

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @50-husbands,,

@hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @mjupis,, @stannwjnss,, @nonononranghaee

[fr4ncehere]

bf!youngjae headcanons 🙏🏽🙏🏽

pairing: bf!youngjae x fem!reader

genre: headcanon, fluff

a/n: i'm so happy that this is the first request, thank u sm for requesting anonn🥺 i want to remind you this is my first headcanon and my mother tongue isn't english so sorry for any mistakes

i hope u enjoy~!

━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━

first of all, youngjae's love language is acts of service. that's a fact.

youngjae is the mother of tws. so if he is already careful with the members, imagine how he is with his girlfriend!

he takes cares of you like a flower (you're his flower.

he would spend all his money on food for you, after all, he just wants to see you well… and fed.

and why not spend that money on snacks like he already does?

i can perfectly imagine him sending messages to you like:

"babe, i just left the hybe building and i'm at the convenience store now"

"and look what i found"

*pic of a snack*

"What flavor do you want this time?

*pic of holding MANY of the same snacks in DIFFERENT flavors*

y/n: "youngjae my love but yesterday you bought 7 packs of these for me, still have them here at home, you don't need to buy anything for me, angel…"

"ARE YOU GOING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THE FOOD THAT I'M BUYING TO YOU AGAIN? >:("

he makes a point of talking and acting in front of the other members that you are the only person who he shares his snacks with

and shares it with you in front of jihoon just to tease him LOLLL

you don't even need to ask or request youngjae

"honey, did you see that there are snacks in my bag, right?"

"did you eat anything, babe? what? why didn't you grab the ones in my bag? i told you…" he says this holding your face gently :((

youngjae being youngjae is not a fan of physical touch, but when you least expect it there is a koala stuck to your body

the same goes for his unexpected little kisses on your cheek~

just like your hugs, it has become something normal

when you're studying and out of the blue there are arms around you and a long kiss on your cheek

he says something like "my girl" or "i'm proud of you" and then he leaves like nothing happened

or when you're on your cellphone, or sitting on the couch, or in public… (i'm telling you, he acts like this OUTTA THE BLUE

he also likes to put your foreheads together and look into your eyes or just bring your faces closer with that puppy eyes and smile that only he has and then… mwah!!! a kiss!

you already have such a close relationship with him (and so funny) that you come home telling him EVERYTHING that happened during your day AND IN DETAIL as if he is your gossip friend

when you least expect it, you told him LITERALLY EVERYTHING that happened in your day and you didn't even notice.

all the gossip, all the joys of the day, all the frustrations....

and he listened to everything while sitting still in front of you🥹 (guys this boy simply doesn't exist, seriously.

you know, just this boy's company is the cure for anything...

literally like a puppy, just being around makes you feel good

being around youngjae is like feeling at home

he is your home. he is your daily comfort.

days when you are tired or sad, you don't need to say anything and he is already there, hugging you, whispering words of comfort...

his advice makes seem like your problems and messes are simply nothing

AND YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND HOW, LIKE, HE IS AN ANGEL? EVEN HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE ONE SO---

and your personality? oh god...

this boy is so calm, how can he be so patient with you?

and you don't need to say nothing. he knows how you are feeling just looking into your eyes, or just looking at your actions.

and if he needs to sing or whisper a song in your ear to make you feel better, he would make sure to do it with a 5 minute song for you

because you know, he just wants to see you well, his only pleasure is to see you happy.

depending on the situation, he puts post-its on your things with motivational phrases and phrases for you don't forget how much he loves you hdjsbxkbs <//3

you wouldn't understand how silly he gets when he sees you smiling for something he did (he feels so proud of himself

or when you run to him looking for his hug and he plays with it running away from you

at these times, youngjae's stomach only has butterflies and that's it!

when he thinks you feel good about his actions it only makes him even more silly

and then he forgets he was playing with you and hugs you tightly

━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━

[veevrsee]

❝ ⎯⎯ Off Brain, On Heart ! ꞌꞋ ࣪ 투어스 　❞

┈ With them, you don't think. Six different ways to surrender to the gentle control of those who treat you as their center... without you having to lift a finger.

› Pairing: TWS x 7thmember!Reader

› Word Count: 6.3K

› Warning: Soft dominance from the members. Fluff

┈ Note ! ꞌꞋ Hi, I'm back. I honestly don't know what this is, I just wanted to imagine how TWS would be protecting and taking care of her member and s/o, with my guilty taste as it is non-sexual domination, with them I did it softer than I thought but in the end I ended up melting for all of them (Shinyu and Youngjae...🫠🫠). I was hesitant to add to the maknae line, but I don't regret it, I loved Kyungmin's (completely identified🫡).I might make a version in which the roles are reversed… I don't know yet.

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so there will probably be several typos or it will look very formal; an apology for that. Without further ado I hope you like it and have a nice night/day.

vee﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒

Shinyuㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤShin Junghwan !

He guides you with his hand on the small of your back when you enter a room.

The hallway leading to the set was filled with voices, cameras adjusting their lenses and lights flashing like artificial stars. The atmosphere was noisy, almost chaotic, but in the midst of that whirlwind, Shinyu moved with the calm of someone who always knows where he's going.

And not just for him.

For you.

As soon as you crossed the front door, his hand descended with almost calculated precision towards your back. It wasn't a casual brush, it was a silent, firm guide, perfectly placed right at the base of your back, there where the skin is most sensitive, where the touch may seem innocent… but it's not.

He did it with such natural fluidity that any camera capturing the scene would only see a leader making sure her teammate didn't get lost in the crowd. But you felt differently. You knew him too well not to notice.

His warmth.

His precise pressure.

The way his fingers molded to you as if molding you to their own rhythm.

—Come on —he whispered softly, like a gentle command disguised as politeness.

And you followed him, of course.

Because that's how it was with him. Always one step ahead, but never far away.

Always protecting you without encroaching, guiding you without demanding.

Sometimes his fingers would barely flex when someone passed too close to you. Not out of jealousy -he trusted his members completely- but because of that natural instinct he had to make sure you always knew who was by your side. That you felt his presence like an invisible shield, even with cameras watching.

Because yes, you were in public.

Yes, you had eyes everywhere.

But still, Shinyu would always find a way to touch you in a way that only you would understand the true meaning. That hand on your back wasn't just companionship.

It was a silent promise: "I am here. I take care of you."

He makes decisions without asking you, but he always gets it right (he knows you so well that you don't even need to give him an opinion).

The spotlights were pointed directly at the couch where the seven were seated. Friendly voices, soft laughter and prepared answers filled the air as the interview progressed smoothly. You spoke naturally, a smile on your face, but between words you let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh.

Maybe it was just tiredness.

Maybe thirst.

But he noticed.

From his place, Shinyu looked at you from the corner of his eye. Not out of curiosity. Out of habit. Because you were always at the center of his attention, even if it didn't seem so. He got up with quiet movements, as if to stretch a bit or to get something for himself.

No one was alarmed.

No one was suspicious.

You did.

Without even looking at you, he went to the small table where assorted drinks rested. His fingers moved with eerie precision: he grabbed your favorite, added just the amount of ice you preferred when you were tired, adjusted the sugar because he knew you by heart.

He wasn't doing it like it was some great feat. He was doing it like someone who has your taste tattooed on his skin.

He returned to the sofa, sat down as if it were nothing and held out the glass without looking at you, with that strategic neutrality he mastered so well.

—Here —he murmured, without raising his voice.

The gesture seemed nondescript.

To others, perhaps even tender, but without suspicion.

But you felt his fingers brush yours with that premeditated softness, the warmth that lingered on your skin even after the contact was gone.

His half-smile peeked out, briefly, and disappeared before anyone noticed it. But you saw it. And you knew.

Because to you, Shinyu wasn't just a fellow who knew you. He was that kind of man who never asked because he always knew. And not for controlling... but for knowing.

For observing you so much, so intensely, that he could anticipate you in every detail. And even in the midst of the noise, the cameras and the fans, he still cared for you like a precious secret that no one could fully understand.

He hugs you from behind with his chin on your shoulder, transmitting silent protection.

It was all over.

The music, the lights, the screams of the audience. All that remained was the echo and the sigh of the adrenaline going down. You walked away in silence, looking for air, a bit of shade among so much euphoria. The backstage corridors were a world apart: less bright, quieter, but no less guarded. Staff still walking, technicians disconnecting cables, cameras capturing extra footage.

You were there, your back to the world, when you felt it.

Shinyu.

He arrived unannounced, with calculated steps and silent presence. There were no words. Only the weight of his arms that slid around your body from behind, enveloping you slowly, with that mixture of firmness and tenderness that was so his. His chest pressed against your back with brutal security. His chin found your shoulder as if it were a natural fit.

No one seemed to notice the gesture. At first glance, it could pass for a show of companionship, a discreet “good job” between members sharing stage and effort.

But it wasn't that. You knew it. And so did he.

His hands rested calmly on your abdomen, his quiet breathing synchronized with yours. For an eternal moment, no one else existed.

Just the two of you.

Shared silence.

Bodies intertwined in a way invisible to the rest, but so clear to you.

—You did amazing —he whispered in a voice so low you barely heard it. And yet, I knew it cut you to the bone.

He did not stay long. Shinyu was careful.

But before releasing you, he left one more brush on your arm, like an invisible trace marking his presence. As if to say, "Even when I can't hold you in front of everyone... I'm still here. I'm still yours."

And as he walked away, he didn't look back. He didn't need to. He knew you felt it. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be behind you always.

No matter who was around.

Dohoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤKim Dohoon !

He covers your ears with his hands when there is noise, as if you were his priority.

The stage was shaking with the excitement of the moment.

The screams from the audience echoed like a constant sea, and the cameras kept moving. Everyone was tense, waiting for the announcement of the winner, nerves running under their skin. Next to him, you were still, serene on the outside, but Dohoon didn't need to see you tremble to know that the burst of confetti and streamers would make you startle.

He had already watched you on other stages.

He knew how you closed your eyes a second before the bang, how you subtly pressed your hands against your thighs so you wouldn't cover your ears like a child. You knew how to hide it well.

But he didn't like you getting used to enduring things alone.

So when the presenter began to lift the envelope and your limbs tensed, Dohoon took a step toward you without a word. He took advantage of the commotion, the fact that everyone was looking away, and raised both hands carefully. He covered your ears with his large, warm palms, like a shield tailor-made just for you.

You gave a little gasp, looking up at him in surprise, but he said nothing. He just held you steady, his eyes locked on yours, calm, as if his whole world was reduced to a single goal: to protect you from the din that was about to fall.

Streamer cannons exploded. The lights intensified, the music blasted and the audience roared like a wave breaking on rock. But you, between his hands, heard only your breath. And his.

Dohoon stayed like that for a moment longer than necessary.

As if refusing to return you to the noise.

He left you a silent caress as he passed over your cheeks. An invisible trail that told you without words that you were protected.

Always.

Even if no one knew it.

Gently tug on your belt or sleeve to pull you closer to him as you walk away.

The night had been long.

Between the spotlights, the cameras and the audience's applause still pounding in their ears, the band walked off the stage with automatic steps. The backstage corridor smelled of hot lights, makeup and sweat. Staffs ran across, voices shouted instructions and water bottles passed from hand to hand.

In the midst of that flow, you took just a few steps away.

You just went to grab a drink, maybe catch up with someone. But to Dohoon, those two steps away were a silent alert. An invisible line that he simply wasn't willing to leave crossed for long.

From where he stood, he watched you. With his head barely bowed.

With a muted intensity that no one else noticed.

You did. Always you.

He didn't call you. Didn't ask you to come back.

He didn't need to.

He just reached up, and with natural precision, caught the side loop of your belt. He held it with two fingers, slow, sure, as if that little strip of cloth were an anchor point to his own peace of mind.

And then he pulled. Not hard. Just just enough. Just enough for you to feel the exact pull.

The call that didn't sound, but weighed.

The gesture was clean, imperceptible to any nearby camera. A tug that anyone could mistake for a rubbing between partners. But you knew what it was. A silent way of saying, "Here. With me. Not so far away."

When you turned to look at him, he was calm again. His face serene, his eyes lowered. But his finger still entangled in your belt, as if he didn't want to let go yet. As if the physical contact was a reminder of something deeper.

And when you weren't wearing a belt, he wore your sleeve. Your jacket. Your purse. Anything you had on you became his way of pulling you back. Because he wasn't possessive, but protective.

Because his need to have you close wasn't insecurity... it was devotion.

He gives you soft commands disguised as questions, but you know he wants you to obey.

The training had been over for a few minutes. The high beams were still on, and several members were chatting with the choreographer. Others were lying on the floor, exhausted, laughing. You had gone to sit in a corner, on a sound box, cell phone in hand. Just for a while.

But Dohoon had already noticed you.

From the other end of the room, leaning with one arm against the wall, Dohoon was watching you. Calm. Quiet. The others thought he was resting, slowing down. But you knew he had you in his sights from the moment you stepped out of his range.

He walked toward you unhurriedly, sneakers making a dull thud on the floor. And when he was close enough, he stopped, barely bowing his face, letting his shadow cover you.

He leaned in just barely, just enough for only you to hear his voice, and in that soft, confident, slightly low tone, he threw one of his “questions” at you:

—Are you coming now… or do I have to come get you?

A question. In appearance. Almost playful. But you knew him. You knew that when he talked like that, there was no room for negotiation. It was his way of asking you something without asking.

Of giving you the choice, knowing that the answer was already written in his gaze.

You stood up. Not out of obligation. Because your body was already trained to react to that exact tone. Because with him, even commands sounded like caresses, like camouflaged promises. His hand reached out. Open. Waiting for you. And you didn't hesitate.

You took it, feeling his fingers close immediately with quiet strength. He pulled you gently, and you walked beside him without asking where.

He walked beside you, unhurriedly, without boasting. But his thumb caressed the back of your hand in slow movements.

Because Dohoon didn't need to assert himself.

He just needed to look at you. And you already knew what to do.

And the most dangerous thing of all... was how much you liked to obey him.

Youngjaeㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤChoi Youngjae !

He always stands between you and any unknown person without you even noticing.

Youngjae never needed to be taught how to read spaces.

He had a quiet, fine, almost invisible instinct that allowed him to anticipate the movements of others… especially when it came to you.

As soon as they crossed the entrance of any event, whether it was a recording, an open rehearsal or a gala with press, he did so without haste. But every step he took was millimetrically calculated to be close to you without drawing attention to himself, and more importantly, to step naturally between you and any unfamiliar figure who came too close.

It wasn't something you noticed right away.

It wasn't obvious.

He would slip past you like a well-trained shadow, a reflection that would appear just as someone -a cameraman, a technician, a random guest- moved in your direction without realizing how close they were passing. It always seemed accidental.

As if it simply coincided with Youngjae turning on his heels, or taking a side step just at the same time as someone else.

But it wasn't coincidence.

It was choice. Decision. Instinct.

Youngjae read the environment like a map in real time, and you were the red dot he had to protect at all costs. If the staff called him from one end, he would look toward you first, and if you were safe, then he would respond. If someone extended a hand too animatedly to say hello, Youngjae would appear in the middle, pretending to reach out or exchange a professional look, but leaving you just out of direct contact.

And you, without quite noticing, would begin to relax.

Because even without knowing he was doing that for you, your body felt it. You felt the air between you and the others become calmer, cleaner... more yours.

Because he made it seem natural, like it was just good placement. But in his mind, that move was an act of protection. Not because he distrusted the world, but because he couldn't tolerate the idea of anyone, however unwittingly, invading the place where you breathed.

The place he considered exclusively yours... and therefore, also his.

He helps you put on your coat without asking, and then carefully adjusts your collar.

It was one of those shooting days where temperatures dropped as soon as the sun began to set. The staff was moving fast, looking for coats, handing out hot drinks, wiping the sweat from their temples as the wind began to seep through the lights.

You stood, distracted with your phone, your jacket folded over one arm, and cheeks a little cold, not complaining.

But Youngjae saw you.

He saw you as if you were the only sharp shot in a blurry scene. As if among all that bustle, you were the only constant that required real attention.

He approached wordlessly, so close that his presence became warm before he touched you. His hands slid to your coat with a slow, firm gesture, and he took it from your arm without asking permission. As if he knew you needed it even before you did. As if your comfort was part of his personal work.

Patiently, he lifted the garment, waited for you to raise your arms slightly, and placed it on your shoulders with almost reverent precision. Her fingers were warm, her touch direct but delicate.

And it didn't end there.

Once the jacket was in place, his hands lingered a moment longer. One on your shoulder, light, sure. The other went up to the collar, where the fabric was a little twisted, and began smoothing it with thumb and forefinger, with slow, meticulous movements. As if the coat was an extension of you, and he refused to leave it untended.

And then he lowered his head.

Not quite, just a nod.

The gesture was so intimate that your breathing changed unintentionally. His face remained close to yours, close to your ear, but he said nothing. He just stood there, as if that space of air between you was sacred, as if protecting you from the cold also meant enveloping your world in his.

For the cameras, it was a simple gesture.

Kind.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

But you knew it wasn't that. You knew that every time he wrapped you up, he was covering you from more than just the weather. It was his way of enveloping your body with his without crossing the public line. It was his secret language of belonging.

And you let him do it. Because you felt that every time he arranged your coat, what he was really saying was:

"I've got you. Always. Even when you don't notice."

He holds your hand under the table, squeezing it when he needs you to calm down or be present.

The press room was white, too white.

The intermittent flashes set the rhythm of anxiety in your chest, and the reporters' questions came one after another, sometimes soft, sometimes disguised as traps disguised as interest. All the members responded with their rehearsed smiles, some joking to lighten the mood.

And you nodded, correct, elegant, but stiff.

Youngjae sensed you, even without looking at you. Sitting next to you, his attention was on the environment like radar… but his energy was focused solely on you.

He knew when your breathing became shallower.

When your fingers began to brush the hem of your skirt.

When the pressure built up in your silence.

So without interrupting anything, without anyone noticing, he slid his hand under the table, slowly, and reached for yours. Fingers first. Then with the open palm. And when he found it, he didn't catch it… he held it.

As if holding your hand was a ceremony.

He squeezed once. Gently, but firmly. A single squeeze.

It was his signal.

His, "I'm here. Breathe." His: “You don't need to carry alone.” His: “With one word, I'll get you out of here if I have to.”

He wasn't looking in your direction. He kept his eyes straight ahead, his face neutral, professional. But with his hand intertwined with yours, you knew he was attentive to every emotion that moved under your skin.

And he didn't let go.

Nor when they changed the subject. Nor when you responded in a slightly more confident voice. Nor when the other members started joking again. He was still there, his thumb barely caressing the base of your thumb, creating a little anchor in the middle of all the noise.

No more was needed.

Because when Youngjae held your hand, the world became a little easier to bear. Not because of what he said, but because of what he conveyed: a deep, subtle restraint, as firm as it was invisible.

And even if no one knew... you knew.

And that was enough.

Hanjinㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Zhen !

He always walks slightly in front of you, as if he wants to cover you from the world.

Hanjin did not do it consciously.

It was not a cold calculation, nor a premeditated plan.

It was simply that his body was positioned that way. Always one step ahead of you. Always first. As if his duty -no, his desire- was to lead the way, to clear the air before you breathed it, to receive any glance before it touched yours.

And though it might seem like a simple walk to others, he felt it as an invisible responsibility, as natural as breathing. In every aisle, in every backstage, on every carpet where the spotlight chased him, he walked with a silent purpose: to cover you from the world without you having to think about it.

It wasn't mistrust.

It wasn't jealousy or possession.

It was something more intimate, more raw: it was instinct.

Because in his mind, the world was too noisy, too fast, too unpredictable for someone like you. And if he could put you a little further back, if only for a few steps, if only for a few seconds… then you would be a little safer.

And he made it look so natural.

The cameras caught him opening doors, making space between members, leaving just the right gap where you could follow him without difficulty.

No one suspected a thing.

To everyone else, he was a silent leader.

To you, he was a mobile shelter.

Sometimes he would turn his face, just a little, to make sure you were behind him. And when you were, when his eyes met yours -if only for a split second- something inside him would settle.

He would calm down.

And you, even if you never said anything, knew it.

You knew that this step of distance was not out of indifference, but out of love. Out of that silent love that Hanjin spoke not with words, but with direction.

With steps.

With presence.

He whispers your name in a deep voice when he wants you to hear it, and that's enough.

There was something in his voice that didn't need volume to make itself heard.

A weight.

A gravity that pierced you without violence, but with intensity.

In the midst of any chaos -a celebration, a waiting room full of screams, a rehearsal between laughter and jokes- it was enough for him to pronounce your name, just a whisper, just a brush between his lips, for you to turn around immediately.

As if an invisible current pulled you firmly.

“Noona...”

That word came from him with a tone that no one else used with you. It wasn't just a term of respect.

It was a private statement.

A way to envelop your attention with just one syllable.

Hanjin knew what it caused when he said it.

He knew you tensed just a little, as if his voice touched your skin, even without coming close.

And yet, he didn't abuse it.

He only used it when he really wanted you to hear it. When he needed your focus back on him. When the rest of the world was pulling you in a thousand directions and he wanted to remind you that he was there.

—Noona... —he would say, in that deep, dense voice, so soft it seemed to caress. And you, no matter who you were talking to, no matter what was going on around you, you would turn. You looked at him. Always.

And when your eyes met his, Hanjin didn't immediately smile. He would hold your gaze. Steadily. Completely. As if he had just tightened an invisible bond between the two of you.

For others, it was nothing. For you, it was everything.

Because he didn't shout.

He didn't ask.

He was just calling your name.

And in that moment, you belonged to him again.

He takes you by the chin towards him if you are sad, forcing you to hold his gaze.

I didn't need to see you cry to know something wasn't right.

I could sense it in the longer-than-normal silence.

In the way your shoulders didn't rise as high when you laughed.

In that slight emptiness that crept into your gaze.

Hanjin didn't pressure you.

He didn't fill you with questions or carelessly intrude into your space. He waited. He watched you. He gave you that leeway he knew you needed…until he decided it was enough.

And when he decided to act, he did so with a commanding calm that left no room for evasion.

He approached without words. Just him and that dense magnetism that seemed to envelop the air around him. And you could feel it. You felt it on your skin, even if you weren't looking at him.

And then, his hand would come up. Firmly. His thumb brushing your chin, his fingers resting just barely on the line of your jaw. He would lift your face with unrelenting gentleness.

Not to force you. But to guide you. To make you look at him. So you wouldn't run away.

—Noona… Look at me.

His voice was low, but it left you no choice. It made you hold his gaze as if that connection was the only thing keeping you grounded.

And maybe it was.

Because in those eyes there was something that painlessly disarmed you. A kind of serene strength that held you from the inside.

And it didn't say much.

It just looked at you.

With that quiet intensity, with that absolute devotion that said, “You may be bad, you may fall…but you're not going down alone.”

And you knew that.

You knew because although his fingers didn't tremble, his thumb caressed your skin as if you were fragile, as if at that moment nothing else mattered.

And he stood there, holding you with his gaze. Like an anchor. Like a shield. Like a refuge where you didn't have to hide, because he had already seen it all... and still, he looked at you as if you were his universe.

Jihoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Jihoon !

He watches you silently and acts before you say anything, which makes you feel completely seen.

Jihoon was observant.

Extremely so.

Jihoon didn't need you to speak to know what you were feeling.

The slightest gesture was enough, a subtle change in the way you sat, in how you held your glass, in the pause you left before answering any question.

From his place -whether on a group couch, backstage, or behind you during an interview- Jihoon would watch you with that quiet intensity that seemed to brush you without touching you.

He didn't invade, he didn't interrupt, he didn't demand.

He just… was.

Present.

Aware of your every micro-expression as if they were tattooed on his soul.

And then he did it.

He would act before you could even formulate the thought.

If your drink was no longer cold, he would silently change it, and set it down next to you. If the microphone slipped, he had it in his hand before you could grab it again. If there were too many people talking at the same time and your gaze began to wander, he would place his hand just barely brushing your arm, as if to say, “Here, look at me.”

And you did.

You always ended up looking at him.

Because he was the only one who didn't need to listen to you to understand you. As if he had you figured out. As if he existed in the same internal rhythm as you, synchronized on a level that even you didn't fully understand.

Jihoon never presumed that.

He never used it to impress you.

On the contrary: he was so discreet that often only you noticed what he had just done. But that was the point.

For you to notice.

That you would feel that there was someone who really saw you.

And he did.

All the time.

Even when you thought he didn't.

Because to Jihoon, your comfort wasn't an option.

It was a priority.

He takes you by the wrist gently, but with no option to let go, as if he knows exactly where you are going.

It wasn't always easy to move through the hustle and bustle: cameras, fans, staff running around with schedules and lists, calls and lights on. And you, in the middle, sometimes so focused, so full of things in your head, that you didn't notice when someone called your name or asked you to move somewhere.

But Jihoon did.

He always noticed.

He always had you measured.

He always knew exactly where you were going… and where you shouldn't go.

So he kept it simple.

Straightforward.

Without asking permission, without giving explanations that weren't necessary.

He took you by the wrist. With a measured firmness. Precise. As if his hand was made to encircle right there. And you felt it. The warmth, the pressure, the delicate but immovable control. And without a word, he would begin to guide you.

Through corridors.

Through people.

Through everything.

It was a small movement, but loaded with message: "With me. Now."

And you followed it.

Not because you couldn't resist, but because you didn't want to. Because there was something about the way he pulled -with that quiet, absolute authority- that made you trust. That made you give in.

And he didn't even look back.

He didn't need to check to see if you were coming with him.

He knew you would.

And in those seconds, as you walked behind him, following the rhythm of his sure step, of his straight back, of his hand that did not let go of yours… you felt calm.

Protected.

Chosen.

And when he finally stopped, his fingertips would linger a few seconds longer on your skin, as if he didn't want to leave you completely.

As if your pulse was his anchor.

He silently corners you against the wall just to make you laugh and lower your tension.

It was one of those days when everything weighed on you.

Stress hung in the air like an invisible veil: too many repetitions, too many instructions, too many expectations.

And you, even if you were smiling, were tense.

Jihoon could feel it.

He noticed the stiffness in your shoulders, the lack of real sparkle in your eyes, the way you sighed when no one was looking.

And as always, he decided you weren't going to take it alone.

So he waited for the perfect moment. A pause between recordings.

A side hallway with no cameras. Just a few seconds alone, between boxes and lights off.

And without warning, he stepped in front of you, and took another step. And then another. Until you, without realizing it, were against the wall. Between his body and the cold concrete.

But there was no threat in his eyes.

Just spark.

Just playfulness.

Just that intention laden with tenderness disguised as provocation.

He said nothing.

He just looked at you from above, with a barely raised eyebrow and a restrained smile curving his lips. His hands remained on the sides of your head, but they didn't touch. He didn't need to. Because his presence was enough to invade your entire chest.

And then he spoke to you.

Low.

Mischievous.

—Are you going to keep that face, Noona… or are you going to tell me what's wrong?

And you laughed.

You couldn't help it.

Because his voice, his closeness, the way he cornered you with fierce care, broke down any wall you had erected.

And he knew it.

It was his way of taking care of you without you seeing it coming.

To force you to let go, to breathe, to come back to him when everything else was too much.

Jihoon wasn't one to hug you in public, he wasn't one for overt gestures. But when he held you like this, so close, so much his... he protected you with that intensity of someone who knows every corner of you and is not afraid of any of them.

And when you laughed -finally, for real- his smile also appeared.

Real.

Calm.

Because then he knew you were well again.

And nothing mattered more to him than that.

Kyungminㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤLee Kyungmin !

It always finds a way to touch you (shoulder, waist, neck), as if it needs to remind you that it is there.

Kyungmin didn't need to think about it.

His body just did it. It was as if his nervous system was already trained to look for you.

To find you.

To touch you.

Always.

Every time you were near -even if there were people, cameras, noise, laughter or interviews- his fingers would find their way. It was a passing brush, as if it didn't matter. A gentle touch on the small of your back as you moved forward. A distracted caress on your shoulder as they waited in a circle. Or his warm hand resting just at the curve of your waist, just for a second… just long enough for you to feel it.

He didn't say anything.

He never announced it.

But his touches had weight.

They had presence.

They had the language of someone who loved you so much that he needed to confirm you with his fingertips.

Sometimes it went unnoticed.

Sometimes not.

Sometimes a member would joke, throw a sidelong glance, and Kyungmin would just smile, cocking his head. Because he knew what he was doing.

And he loved that no one could say anything.

Touching you was like breathing to him.

It was his way of anchoring himself to the moment, of knowing you were there, that you weren't a dream. Because he held you close, because you let him do it, because you wouldn't move away either.

And that… it killed him with tenderness.

It destroyed him with love.

As if everything in him was only alive when you were within reach of his touch.

And if ever, for seconds, you were too far away to catch up, his eyes followed you. And the body, restless, searched for you until it found an excuse to come closer again.

Because yes.

Because you were his anchor, his silent obsession, and his way of loving was measured in millimeters of shared skin.

He murmurs soft commands to you amidst a smile, tenderly disarming you.

With Kyungmin, control was not imposed.

It was whispered.

It slipped between slow smiles and sweet words. His way of dominating was so gentle, so charming, that it left no room for resistance.

Only surrender.

“Stay close to me, okay?” “Drink this, it will do you good.” “Come here a second…”

Simple phrases.

Innocent.

But you knew.

You always knew.

Because his voice lowered a little, his tone became more intimate, and his smile seemed sweet… but it had an edge.

A warm edge.

Tender edge.

Inevitable edge.

Kyungmin didn't ask for things.

He declared them in disguise.

And you obeyed without argument. Not because he demanded it. But because it came naturally to you. Because deep down, you wanted to do it. You wanted to respond to his tone that left no room for doubt.

And he was fascinated by that.

Seeing you nod slowly, seeing how your body responded before your lips, how you moved towards him naturally… it melted him inside. It made him addicted. It was a devotion that didn't scream, but existed in each of those seconds where you simply followed his lead without thinking.

It wasn't that he needed to control you. It wasn't possession.

It was certainty. It was the relief of knowing that he could guide you because you trusted him. Because you let him hold you in his hands as gently as you would hold something sacred.

And even if no one else noticed, even if it seemed like just a normal conversation, he knew what was going on between you.

And he smiled.

He always smiled afterwards.

Because having you like this -obedient without fear, surrendered without pressure- was the most beautiful thing he knew.

He makes you sit between his legs and wraps his arms around you, as if you were his.

The scene was innocent.

Casual.

No one suspected anything.

It was one of those moments when the cameras were not pointing directly. One of those spaces between scenes where the staff was resting, where the members were relaxing, and you -with your tupper open on your legs- had decided to record a little clip for the group's vlog.

You were on the floor, right in front of the dressing room sofa, your legs crossed and your cell phone resting on a small improvised tripod while you were talking to the camera. You were in vlog mode, talking to your fans with that sweet, natural voice, as if the camera was your friend.

But you were not alone.

Kyungmin was behind you. Sitting on the couch, legs apart, and you… between them.

Perfectly wedged between his body and the soft backrest.

From there, he had effortless access to you. His left arm draped over your shoulder, hand resting gently on your chest, not invasively, but like an anchor. As if he needed to remind himself that you were there.

That you were real.

That you were his.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he would lean in a little, lower his head and murmur little things next to your ear. Things that didn't stick.

Things just for you.

"Don't talk so fast, noona. You're choking." “Drink some water, come on.” “Look at me for a second.”

And you did it.

You obeyed without thinking, without needing an explanation.

From the outside, it looked like a normal scene.

A teammate recording a vlog while Kyungmin was resting behind.

But if anyone looked closely... if anyone watched closely... they would know that he wasn't “resting”.

He was watching over you. Claiming you without words.

His body surrounded you.

He was protecting you.

No one else could sit like this.

No one else could hold you so still between his legs, while he rested on the crown of your head for seconds, and then lay back down as if nothing had happened.

He didn't need to kiss to mark territory.

He did it with his arms.

With the way he hugged you from above without suffocating you. With the way his hands would always find you, adjust your hair, or just hold your food container for a second to catch your breath.

They didn't need words.

And even if you didn't say anything, even if you didn't even look directly at him, your body spoke for you.

The way you just stood there, the way you didn't want to move... it drove him crazy.

In the best sense.

You knew it too. You knew what he was saying without saying it.

And he... he was completely satisfied with that.

© veevrsee — All rights Reserved.

[shinxxu]

shinyu - you’re mine

*ೃ༄ friends to lovers, fluff

shinyu invited you to have a picnic near the han river since you both had nothing to do and the weather was perfect ; the breeze was gently blowing gentle and the sun slowly dipping towards the horizon. he found a quiet spot by the water and laid out the mat on the grass before unpacking the food you brought.

when you finished eating, you laid down on the mat feeling full from the food and he did the same, laying by your side as you both watched the sky turn from blue to deep shades of orange and pink. after a while, you started to feel shinyu's gaze on you so you turned your head and found him watching you intensly, a soft warm smile playing on his lips. your heart fluttered as you smiled back, feeling a sudden rush of shyness you quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but you could still feel his eyes on you.

"what's wrong ?" he said laughing at how you were avoiding his gaze. you simply shook your head left and right before looking back to the sky. all of a sudden, you felt something warm on your hand, you looked at it and saw that he had reached over and gently took your hand. his touch was soft, and he held your hand as if he was scared to break it. you looked back at him searching for an answer to his sudden behaviour, but all you got was a smile, a beautiful smile. he looked unreal under the sunset, hair flowing in the wind, sunkissed skin and shiny eyes.

"you're so pretty..." he said quietly as he squeezed your hand lightly before placing it on his chest, right over his heart.

"you make my heart race every time you look at me," he said, his voice still quiet, almost like a whisper. he was right, you could feel his heartbeat under your palm it was fast and strong and you could feel yours starting to beat like his. your mind was racing but you didn't know what to say, it felt like if the words were stuck in your throat. his heart kept beating faster and faster making you smile at how you were making him feel.

"i've liked you for so long," he confessed softly with his deep voice. "i just didn’t know how to tell you until now."

"me too..." you almost whispered. you wanted to say something else but you didn't need to because he leaned in closer before gently cupping your face with his free hand. he suddenly closed the small distance between your face, and kissed you gently. his lips were soft and warm brushing gently against your making the kiss tender. you could feel him smiling in the kiss as his thumb was gently brushing your cheek. as he pulled away from the kiss, a soft laughter escaped both of you as shinyu put a hand on his face in embarrassement.

"you're mine now," he said in a chuckle as he took you in his arms, his smile widening making his eyes look cute.

"you're mine too," you said as he nodded in agreement before pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

—

requests are open :)

[kcake555]

Youngjae cake 🍰

tws

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Good Show (TWD Drabble)

Negan x (cis)Masc!Reader 18+ / requests are open

Summary: Negan likes a good show. He also likes seeing you handle Lucille. Match made in heaven.

Fic type: smut lite

TWD: @nervoussystemss (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"God-damn you look good swinging my big, hard bat around," Negan laughed, tongue running over his bottom lip appreciatively at the sight.

You swung Lucille one more time in the face of the poor fuckers who'd deigned to think themselves above the Saviours and watched as they shrunk with fear, practically crawling inside themselves as blood flicked over their skin.

"Now, now," you scolded teasingly, "not in front of the guests."

Negan snorted, and suddenly he was pressed up behind you, dick pressing against your ass. His hands wrapped around your front. One against your throat and one palming at your now-hardening dick. You grunted as Negan chuckled darkly against your ear, voice the sweetest honey gravel.

"Are you telling me what to do, handsome?"

You tilted your head back to allow his hand better access to your throat. Negan licked a strip up the side of your neck, and you felt his cocky grin against your skin.

"That's what I thought. Now-" he gave your dick a firm squeeze, delighting in the gasp of air you sucked in as a response. "Do as Daddy says and cave another one of these fuckers' heads in and maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

Your eyes filtered down the line of poor suckers laid out before you, fingers tightening on Lucille's handle.

"Sir yes sir," you replied cheekily, lips morphing into a grin that would and most definitely should terrify those about to be on the receiving end of your brutality.

"Your pick, handsome," Negan added, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck before stepping away to watch. "You know I like a good fucking show."

That he did, and that you most certainly would give him.

[cloverish]

the d-day I've been waiting for

“I’m so tired, hyung.” The song ended again. This time the YouTube algorithm fed them a Choi Yuree playlist, and Youngjae let it play on. “Can I stay here a while?”

Or: TWS is less than 150 days from debut, and Youngjae has started sleeping in Junghwan's bed. It would be easier on everyone if they didn't have to talk about why.

nidjae, shinyu pov

10k, rated g

canon compliant, pre-debut, mutual pining, sharing a bed, angst wtih a happy ending

read more on ao3

[dohoon-gf]

hi, im a new blog for TWS! (since there are only few blogs who write abt them)

send in asks! make sure to checkout my rules. have a nice day!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ 🐚 ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[tanghuyuj]

instagram stories w/ bf shinyu!

pairing: non-idol or idol! shinyu x gn!reader ; genre: fluff, comedy (?), smau ; warnings: food andd i think that’s it.

maia’s note: i’m gonna make these for all the members so stay tuned!! ^^ probably by age order. i honestly just wanna feed the small sai community on here. likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated (esp rbs and fb ^^)! 🫶

shinyu | dohoon | youngjae | hanjin | jihoon | kyungmin

please do not copy, repost, or claim as yours.

check out my other works!

[bambisnc]

     the prettiest to me . . . ♡

### . STARRING ⌢ s.jh ⋆ hurt/comfort + 0.8k // use of "girl" + unspec. insecurities + vaguely academia/official setting implied ˖ ✧ REQ : ✩

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ guys ur all The nicest n prettiest ppl. btw + [m.list]

you didn’t hear him at first. the sound of your own thoughts, heavy and cacophonic successfully drowning out everything else. the only thing you had wanted was to get home as soon as possible, to be away from the weight of the tiring day.

away from the whispers. away from the way your reflection in the glass window seemed to taunt you, reminding you of every insecurity inducing aspect of yourself that you’d been trying so hard to ignore.

and then, a voice cut through the muted hum of conversations and soft shuffles of people leaving the room, shattering your daze.

“y/n.” 

shin junghwan's voice is soft when it calls out to you. soft enough that you can pretend to just not have heard it. you’ll deal with him later, when you’re more coherent and there aren’t tears threatening to tip over the second you dare to blink. you resolutely continue walking towards the door. 

but then, a surprisingly strong grip on your wrist causes your movements to stop and in one swift motion, you’re all but pulled back, ending up face to face with him.

“i’m talking to you.”

his intense gaze is fixed on yours and you find yourself almost incapable of breaking away. before you can even begin to muster up some sort of a defense, make some kind of excuse if nothing else, he speaks up. 

“you’ve been ignoring me. blowing me off whenever i tried to say something to you. d'you really forget how long we’ve been friends for? of course i noticed how stressed you’ve been these days. i ... i don’t know what it is exactly that’s troubling you but please, please let me help.”

to be fair, you hadn’t meant for it to get this bad. it had been easy enough to brush questions off at first, to wave away concerns with a vague laugh. you knew lying to him was out of question though. he knew you too well. so, fine, yes, maybe you were avoiding him.

however, being backed up in a corner like this by shinyu, the least confrontational person you knew, was apparently jarring enough for you to end up mumbling out your thoughts. how you didn’t feel comfortable with your appearance, how you ended up overhearing some .. comments which only further fed your insecurities and led to you not really knowing what to do with yourself. 

when you finally allow yourself to look up and gauge his reaction ... the way his grip on your wrist loosens abruptly, the absolute shock on his face almost makes you laugh.

“... seriously? from – from all the things i thought you would be upset about ..,” he steps back slightly, his tone incredulous as he studies your entire profile, “i really didn’t think it would be your appearance..

..i don’t get it. you have to know whatever that person said was absolute bullshit, right? you’re – you’re literally perfect. trust me when i say that i, of all the people possible, i would know better. how could i not?

“wait, but-,” you try to interject, but your attempts are to no avail.

“i swear to god, the only flaw you could possibly have is that you don’t see how amazing you are. but- y/n …,” he sighs, shoulders dropping slightly, “i just wish you could see yourself the way i see you. ”

“junghwan.” your voice is slightly shaky, unsure. “look, i… i do appreciate the sentiment really, but… what – what did you mean by that .. emphasis?...”

“...”

“junghwan?”

his voice is steady as he answers, albeit quiet, “right. i knew this would happen one day. i like you. a lot. have, ever since i met you actually.”

“oh.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” junghwan rushes to add, “i don’t expect an answer, really. i just… i just want you to stop being so hard on yourself. please.”

“... no promises," you say after a pause. “... but i swear i’ll do my best.”

“i’ll be here to remind you, then. as many times as you want.” he leans in, silently seeking permission before pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead.

“shinyu, i…,” you can’t help but falter slightly, the warmth emanating from him making it a little more difficult to search for the right words. “just- wait for me okay? i clearly have things to work through. but i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t,”  he promptly reassures, “you’re stuck with me forever.”

that finally gets a laugh out of you. “that’s perfect, then.”

junghwan cups your face in his hands, allowing your forehead to rest against his. “hey." "i’m looking at you right now,” he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper. “and you’re the prettiest girl in the world.”

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k24

[slytherinshua]

HOW TWS HUG

genre. fluff. warnings. none. pairing. tws x reader. wc. 234 (im so sorry this is so short). request. requested by anon. a/n. i feel like i should do a kiss ver too they're just so cute skdjks </3

SHIN JUNGHWAN ﾐ 신정환

hugs always lead to kisses with junghwan. he would def pull you into his chest, hugging you comfortably until he pulls back a second later and finds your lips instead. the lips are honestly always his end goal.

KIM DOHOON ﾐ 김도훈

he’s not picky with what kind of hug, as long as he has you in his arms. he likes when you rest your head on his chest, and would probably love spooning or any type of hug lying down so it could last for longer. 

CHOI YOUNGJAE ﾐ 최영재

he’s the gentlest. he just loves to hold you close to his chest, stroking your back or holding the back of your head. it’s very soft and slow, and he barely squeezes you unless you need it.

HAN ZHEN ﾐ 韩振

oh hugs make him so shy. particularly back hugs but when you initiate them. something about not being able to see your face, but feeling you so close with your arms around his waist gets him flustered.

HAN JIHOON ﾐ 한지훈

he likes to squeeze you. idk he’s very simple when it comes to hugs, as long as he can hold you and squeeze you tightly, he’s happy. maybe cause he gets over energetic and has to squeeze it out skdjs

LEE KYUNGMIN ﾐ 이경민

he’s so playful he’d cling to you like a koala or try to climb you like a freaking monkey… but when he’s not so energetic he’d just want to be held by you. like def little spoon :(

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,,

@50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @kristianities,, @stannwjnss

[fr4ncehere]

hihii, i'm nene! nice to meet youu

i'm a new blog writer and i plan to write to our fav little boys, tws!

i'm still organizing the blog like the rules and everything... but feel free to send requests!

see u soon~~

. . . ಌ !

[veevrsee]

❝ ⎯⎯ Clingy Comfort ! ꞌꞋ ࣪ 투어스 　❞

┈ All they want is to be close. Quiet, cuddling… no rush. A moment just for yourselves.

› Pairing: TWS x 7thmember!Reader

› Word Count: 4.8K

› Warning: non. just fluff.

┈ Note ! ꞌꞋ ࣪ Hi, this is my first time writing something for TWS, and it's just that since I met them I'm a little obsessed. And it just came to my mind how they would be like when they are feeling clingy. And being very honest with you, like Shinyu biased, Dohoon's, Kyungmin and Hanjin have me completely blushing and kicking my feet.

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so there will probably be several typos or it will look very formal; an apology for that. Without further ado I hope you like it and have a nice night/day.

vee﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒

Shinyuㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤShin Junghwan !

Days off were rare.

More rare than Shinyu would like to admit.

There was always something: practices, meetings, recordings, schedules full of things to do.

But not today.

Today, by some perfect alignment of the stars, the group had the day off, and they were making the best possible use of it: doing absolutely nothing.

Just the seven of you, spread out in the living room, enjoying a quiet moment while deciding what to have for breakfast.

He was leaning back on one end of the couch, his phone in hand, flipping through the menu with the others. He was barely paying attention to the discussion of what to order. It was a din of mingled voices and banter thrown into the air. You were at the other end, lounging against the armrest, with a sleepy expression that made him smile without realizing it. The dim light of the room highlighted the contours of your face, and Shinyu found his gaze straying to you more times than necessary.

It wasn't unusual. It happened to him all the time.

The conversation flowed smoothly, until Jihoon asked you to help Shinyu confirm the final order.

Shinyu barely registered the request.

His attention was on you, on the way you gently sat up to reach over and take his phone. It was a simple, everyday movement even, but for him it was enough. As if his body acted before his mind, in a single, fluid motion he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him effortlessly, sinking you against his chest naturally.

The contact was warm. Your body fit over his as if you had always belonged there. There was no resistance on your part, only a small initial startle before you gradually settled against him. Shinyu felt an almost instinctive satisfaction run through his body as you rested your head on his chest, letting yourself fall completely on top of him.

Yes. That was better.

He loved this. He loved you.

-Mmm… it's good like this, isn't it? -you murmured, still checking the phone.

-Mhmm… -Shinyu barely answered, his voice distracted, too focused on you to pay attention to anything else.

You confirmed the order, and the others, satisfied, scattered around the room, each minding their own business while waiting for the food. But Shinyu had not the slightest intention of moving. Not when he had you like this, perfectly wedged against him.

He could feel the rhythm of your breathing becoming slower, more relaxed. The heat of your body against his was addictive.

With a relaxed motion, he reached out to take control when Dohoon challenged him to a game of Mario Kart. Perfect. He could play without thinking too much. He moved just enough to grab the controller, but not enough to alter the position you were in. If anything, his grip on your waist became tighter, making sure you didn't move too much. Kyungmin and Jihoon joined in right away, but even as the competition began and laughter filled the room, his mind wasn't quite on the game.

Sure, his reflexes were still good, his fingers pressed the buttons as nimbly as ever, but a large part of him was distracted.

How could he not be?

He had you lying completely on top of him, breathing softly against his chest, not complaining about his grip or the way he was holding you close. Without realizing it, his hand moved, his fingers tracing small circles on the fabric of your shirt. He wasn't sure if he was doing it to reassure you or himself. Maybe both.

And then you did.

Without warning, you moved just a little, seeking more comfort, fitting better against him. It was a small gesture, almost imperceptible, but Shinyu felt it as a direct blow to the heart. A shiver ran down his back as you made yourself even smaller in his embrace, as if you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Oh.

Oh.

Shinyu barely blinked, barely reacted. His character on the screen crashed into a wall and Dohoon let out a victorious laugh, but he didn't even flinch. He just looked down, watching you with a tenderness he had no right to display so openly. His attention was on the way his own heart began to beat a little faster.

It couldn't have been more obvious. He was completely lost for you.

He let out a slow sigh, one that was lost amidst the sound of the game and the voices in the room, but which inside him echoed like a silent surrender. Because deep down, there was no point in fooling himself anymore.

It was ridiculous how much he liked this. How much he liked you.

The game went on, the others laughed and complained about unfair plays, but to him, it was all background noise. He didn't need to say it out loud, but if it were up to Shinyu, the whole world could stop in that instant, and he wouldn't mind at all.

He just needed this moment. Just the simple fact of feeling you so close was enough.

Dohoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤKim Dohoon !

Mornings always had a different rhythm for Dohoon.

They were slow, sleepy, with the warmth of the sheets still clinging to his skin and the feeling of drowsiness weighing down his eyelids. Not because he was tired-though sometimes he was-but because in the mornings he wanted you close. Closer than was reasonable, closer than others would surely consider normal. And today, with a whole day off until evening, there was no reason to hold back.

He opened his eyes heavily and, before he even thought of getting out of bed, he noticed your absence. You were gone. He frowned, still drowsy, and without even thinking too much about it, he stood up. He didn't need to ask anyone where you were; his instinct led him straight to the kitchen.

And there you were.

Standing in front of the counter, opening the bags with the coffees and drinks the manager had ordered for everyone. The morning light filtered through the window, illuminating you in an almost unreal way. To Dohoon, who was not yet fully awake, the image was too pretty, too perfect.

Without much thought, he approached you silently, shuffling his feet with the laziness of someone not yet fully awake. And then, as soon as he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around your waist and dropped down against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

God, it felt so good.

Your warmth, your smell, the way you fit perfectly against him as if you were a magnet he always ended up sticking to… Everything about you was addictive to him. He closed his eyes, gently inhaling the scent of your skin mixed with that of coffee, and smiled against your neck when he felt you wouldn't pull away. You didn't make the slightest effort to break free from his grip, you just went about your business, as if you were used to him clinging to you like a koala bear every morning.

And you were.

Gently, without opening his eyes, he rubbed his nose against your skin, taking deep breaths.

There was no way he could start the day without this.

He opened his eyes when he saw your hand move, bringing your latte to your lips. He watched intently, not moving an inch from his place on your neck, as you calmly took a sip. And then, without a word, you brought the straw close to his mouth in a gesture so natural that it made his heart beat faster.

Without hesitation, he caught the straw between his lips and took a sip straight from your drink, his eyes narrowing in pleasure at the sweet, warm taste of the latte. But more than the coffee itself, what he really enjoyed was the gesture itself.

The fact that you shared with him without thinking about it.

There was something intimate in the way you shared these little things. In how they didn't need words, in how you just knew what he wanted, in how he could be glued to you without seeming to make you uncomfortable.

God. How lucky he was.

He drank some more before releasing the straw and sinking back against you, this time squeezing you a little tighter, enveloping you with his body as if he wanted to become part of you.

Your soft laughter vibrated against his chest and, without warning, you caressed his face, your fingers sliding gently down his cheek, along his jaw, a light but loving touch. Dohoon closed his eyes at the sensation, letting himself be pampered, letting you do whatever you wanted with him, because he was already completely yours.

If it were up to him, he could stay like this all day.

But then, his stomach decided to betray him.

Dohoon pouted a little, stirring against you before muttering in a low, sleepy voice:

-I'm hungry…

You just smiled, amused, and barely moved to go get your phone, surely to order food for everyone. But Dohoon had no intention of letting go.

Like a koala clinging to his favorite tree, he stayed glued to you, following you wherever you went, his arms still around your waist, his body still against yours as you tried to open the ordering app.

It was ridiculous how easy it was for him to stay that way, entangled with you even when you were on the move.

-What do you want to eat? -You asked, looking at the screen of your phone.

Dohoon rested his chin on your shoulder, watching the screen lazily. But actually, he wasn't looking at the menu.

He was just looking at you.

Stunned, completely absorbed in the way your brow furrowed just barely as you chose the food, in the way your mouth curved subtly as you read the choices. You knew him well enough to know exactly what to ask him without him having to say anything, but you still asked, because you cared about his opinion.

And that, that was what finished disarming him completely.

He snuggled closer against you, closing his eyes for a moment and letting his weight rest against your body without fear that you would push him away. Because he knew you wouldn't. Because, like him, you enjoyed this too.

If the rest of the day was going to be like this, glued to you, feeling your warmth, sharing every little moment of the morning, then for Dohoon, this was already the best day off of all.

Youngjaeㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤChoi Youngjae !

The day had ended earlier than expected, but Youngjae was in no hurry to leave.

Not when he could seize a moment like this.

Not when you were there, so close, so… perfect for him.

The practice room was still illuminated in the soft afternoon light, and Jihoon, as always, had energy to spare to keep dancing, moving with enviable ease as he improvised steps in front of the mirror, and Youngjae… well, Youngjae was just tired. He watched out of the corner of his eye, amused by his dongsaeng's witticisms, but his mind was elsewhere.

Or, rather, on someone else.

You were there, leaning against the mirror, relaxed, not paying much attention to anything but Jihoon. Youngjae watched you silently for a few seconds, noticing the way your expression softened when you were deep in thought, how your lips curved into a smile when Jihoon did something silly. It was nothing serious, just fun. But Youngjae wasn't particularly interested in that right now.

The only thing he was interested in was you.

He didn't know how or why, but whenever you were around, he needed to find an excuse to be attached to you somehow.

And Youngjae, he wanted you close.

He didn't have a clear reason; he simply wanted you close.

Without a word, he came over and lay down on top of you, resting his head carefully on your lap.

The relief was immediate.

And, as if you were perfectly in sync with him, you lifted your arms a little to give him space, allowing him to settle in better. Youngjae wrapped his arms around your waist leisurely, breathing deeply against the fabric of your clothes, letting your warmth envelop him. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the contact, the feeling of being close to you without needing to say anything.

Youngjae sighed softly, as he listened to Jihoon's laughter, so lively and full of energy. He could hear the jokes and the silly things he was doing; And he couldn't help but smile at the scene.

But even as he did so, his mind was still on you.

It wasn't more than a few seconds before he felt your hands move, instinctively moving down to his hair. And there it was, that gesture he so adored. The brush of your fingers through her locks, the light pressure of your nails against her scalp, the slow, steady rhythm that made every muscle in her body relax little by little.

Yes. Just like that.

It was almost ridiculous how much he enjoyed this. The way your fingers ran through his hair as naturally as you breathed, in how your nails gently grazed his scalp, sending little shivers of pleasure down his back. Each caress was like a silent confirmation that he had every right in the world to be here, glued to you, claiming your attention without needing to ask for it.

He opened his eyes just a little, just enough to see you laughing at some nonsense of Jihoon's; moving in an exaggerated way just to make you smile, and Youngjae felt a pang of tenderness in his chest to see you like that.

God, he adored your laugh.

He couldn't see you completely from his position, but he could feel your laughter in the subtle vibration of your body against him. But he didn't have the energy to join in the antics at that moment. Not when he was so comfortable, not when your fingers kept sliding through his hair with a gentleness that made him sink deeper and deeper into the sensation of being with you.

He didn't need you to do anything else.

He wasn't thinking about anything else, just that.

About how it felt when he held you close, when he felt your body so close to his. All he could think about was the warmth of your body under his head, the softness of your fingers sliding through his hair, how each caress felt like a gesture of affection that he didn't ask for, but needed.

It was that feeling, that simple, genuine attention, that had him completely spellbound.

And, for an instant, he thought that maybe, if he could, he would stay that way forever.

He didn't want to move.

He didn't want that moment to end.

And best of all, you weren't even making him uncomfortable about it. You liked it. It was like a kind of silent language that only the two of you shared: you taking care of him without thinking about it, him soaking up the comfort of your company.

And he enjoyed every second of it.

But, of course, something told him that eventually he would have to get up, that Jihoon would stop his madness and the rest of the group would return to the dormitories. For now, though, as you gently caressed him, as his mind completely melted away in that warmth that only you provided, everything seemed perfect just the way it was.

It is perfect.

Hanjinㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Zhen !

The dorm was quiet, an unusual tranquility after days filled with practices and tight schedules. Everyone was scattered around the apartment, each doing their own thing, taking advantage of the rare free time. Hanjin, however, only had his attention on one thing - or, rather, one person.

You.

You were sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall, with his Korean book open between you.

Technically, he was studying.

Technically, you were helping him.

But in reality, Hanjin was just enjoying the perfect excuse to have you around.

At first, everything had been normal. You were correcting his pronunciation, patiently explaining grammatical structures, and he was nodding, making the effort to repeat them correctly. But honestly, he was having a hard time. Not because he didn't want to learn, but because his attention was elsewhere.

On you.

In the way you spoke patiently, explaining every detail with that sweetness that disarmed him. In how your voice sounded so natural when you explained to him in Mandarin so that he would understand better the meaning of the words, so comfortable, so you. In the closeness between you, in the warmth of your body next to his, in how easy it was to be with you like that.

As the lesson progressed, Hanjin felt more and more… comfortable.

Almost too comfortable.

Everything about you had him completely caught up.

At some point in the lesson - without even thinking too much about it - he reached out and pulled you to his side, drawing you in as easily as he breathed.

You said nothing. You just let yourself go, settling against him without complaint or question. As if this kind of contact was something as natural as the air between you.

Hanjin liked that.

He felt comfortable with you.

He liked how easy it was to touch you, how easy it was to envelop you with his presence without you pushing him away. He rested his head against your shoulder at one point, feeling the warmth of your skin, the rhythm of your breathing, the simple fact of having you there.

Your warmth, your familiar scent… It was so easy. It was so easy that he almost forgot they were still studying.

And then, he felt your hand move.

Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a brief touch but enough to make him feel that you were there, acknowledging his presence, responding to his need for contact without him having to ask for it.

Such a simple gesture.

But as your hand ran through his hair, Hanjin seemed to have no intention of letting go. On the contrary, he pulled you to him more tightly, pressing you even tighter against his side. A shiver ran down his back, he liked it too much when you did that.

But then, you broke the balance of the moment with a few words.

-我去拿点吃的，我们休息一下吧 - (I'm going to go get a snack, let's get some rest).

No.

Before you could even move, his body reacted on its own. His arms around your waist tightened subtly, drawing you back effortlessly. He needed no words, only the weight of his grip, refusing to let go, as if letting you go was simply an unacceptable option.

You looked down at him with amusement. Hanjin noticed it. He noticed it in the way your lips curved just barely, in the mischievous light in your eyes, as if you were waiting for him to say something else.

And he did.

-不要，待在这儿 - (No, stay here.)

His voice was low, almost a whisper against your skin. The way he said those words, his tone soft but firm, made your heart beat a little faster.

And you… you couldn't resist.

He smiled without another word, enjoying the way you settled back in next to him.

He wasn't one to ask for things with grandiose words. He wasn't usually pushy about what he wanted. But with you, everything was different. With you, he had the luxury of being a little more selfish, of wanting more than he normally allowed himself.

And Hanjin knew what he wanted, and it was simple: he wanted to stay that way, glued to you.

-好吧 - (It's okay.)

You whispered with a smile, surrendering easily to his grip.

He didn't have to say much for you to understand.

Because, in the end, you wanted to stay that way too.

Jihoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Jihoon !

After weeks of work without a break, the arrival of this rare day off had given Jihoon a much-needed respite.

He emerged from the bathroom with his hair still damp, feeling the warmth of the shower still clinging to his skin. The hot water had relaxed his muscles, but it had also left him with a drowsiness he could barely conceal. His eyelids drooped slightly as he toweled his hair dry, but as soon as he looked up and saw you in his bed, all the heaviness seemed to fade for a moment.

You were lying there, laughing at something Dohoon had said from the other bed. Your voice, your laughter, the mere sight of you there made Jihoon feel a tug in his chest.

The scene was so domestic, so quiet… That his mind had only one clear thought….

He wanted to be there with you.

He didn't think about it too much. In fact, he didn't think at all.

With lazy steps, he crossed the room and, without warning, dropped his full weight on you. Not gently, not with any warning, just with the full weight of his body, as if you were a pillow made exclusively for him.

The air left your lungs in a surprised gasp, followed by a burst of laughter as you tried, unsuccessfully, to protest between guffaws, but that only made him smile against the fabric of your clothes.

It didn't bother you at all, and he knew it.

-Jihoon -you said, your voice cracking -You're too heavy, get off! -you finished with a chuckle, patting him gently on the back. But he didn't move.

Not immediately, at least.

He just got more comfortable.

-No -he murmured in a sleepy voice, letting his arm wrap lazily around your waist, making sure you weren't going to slip away.

Dohoon, from his bed, chuckled as well, surely enjoying the scene, but Jihoon was already too comfortable to pay attention to you. His attention was completely on you, on how your breathing was still agitated by the laughter, on how your body was slowly relaxing under his. He could feel the steady beat of your heart under his cheek, a rhythmic, comforting sound that made his own eyelids feel heavier, plus the way that, despite your playful complaints, you made no real effort to push him away.

Jihoon sighed against your skin, completely content with the position he was in.

And just as you knew would happen, you ended up surrendering with a sigh and, without thinking too much about it, started playing with his damp hair.

If he wasn't so tired, he probably would have smiled self-satisfiedly. But instead, he just closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, completely surrendered to the gesture.

God.

It was his weakness.

He didn't need words, he didn't need anything else. Just your hand in his hair, the gentle rhythm of your caresses and the sound of your voice returning to the conversation with Dohoon as if you didn't have a whole human being lying on top of you.

He enjoyed this very much.

But he couldn't fall asleep.

He forced himself to open his eyes, though his sight was a blur of shadows and warm lights in the room. He didn't want to surrender to sleep so quickly. Not when he could stretch this moment out a little longer.

He heard your voice conversing with Dohoon, though the words became a distant echo, a soft melody that cradled him unwillingly. He felt your laughter vibrate against his chest, your breathing slow as you continued to play with his hair.

He blinked slowly, clinging to the feel of your touch, the sound of your voice, the way your body molded to his.

But it was useless.

As exhaustion overtook him more, his breathing grew heavier, slower. Every caress on his hair dragged him deeper into drowsiness, every brush of your fingers made his body feel heavier, more relaxed. He wanted to protest, to tell you to stop, that if you kept this up he was going to fall asleep on you, but all that came out of his mouth was an incoherent mumble.

And then, without being able to help it, his eyelids gave way.

His breathing slowed, his body completely surrendered against yours. In the last moment before he fell asleep, he felt the brush of your lips on his forehead - soft, fleeting, like a whisper that carried away any attempt at struggle.

He lost.

But if falling asleep meant being like this, glued to you, with your warmth enveloping him and your fingers in his hair… then maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.

Kyungminㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤLee Kyungmin !

Kyungmin couldn't sleep.

The rented house was completely silent. Well, not complete silence-the sound of his hyungs' leisurely breathing, mixed with the occasional murmur of Jihoon moving in his sleep, reminded him that he was trapped in a confined space with three other people.

And that was the problem.

Dohoon, Hanjin, and Jihoon, in their infinite trust, had decided that it didn't matter that the bed was clearly for one or two people at most -they would sleep there anyway.

And they had done so without any respect for the concept of “personal space.”

There was no space. Not a shred of it.

He stirred for the umpteenth time between the bodies of Jihoon, Dohoon, and Hanjin, trapped in a ridiculously small space in the bed they shared. It had been fun at first, pushing and shoving, teasing and laughing until they were all completely exhausted. But now, with Dohoon glued to the other end of the bed, Jihoon completely unconscious, one arm draped over his stomach and Hanjin wedged next to him, Kyungmin could only think of how uncomfortable the situation was.

Four people on a single mattress had never been a good idea.

And he definitely wasn't going to survive the night like this.

With slow, careful movements, he managed to slip out of the tangle of bodies without waking them. His feet touched the cold floor, and he felt a shiver run down his back as he finally stretched.

He needed air.

Space.

Something.

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it even more than it already was, and without much thought, he left the room, dodging the creaking of the wood beneath his feet.

His steps were silent as he walked down the dimly lit hallway, his eyes still half closed from sleep as he made his way to the one room he knew he could get a good night's rest in.

Your room. Your room was the biggest room in the house, the prize for winning the chaotic game of deciding rooms.

And besides, it had become a habit. Every night, after everyone had retired, he used to come into your room, cuddle with you for a while, and then go to his. It was his little ritual. One that had started unintentionally and eventually became a sort of silent habit between you.

He hesitated a moment before knocking, but the sound was soft, almost shy. In the silence of the early morning, it felt louder than expected.

A small silence and then your sleepy voice from within:

-Come in…

Kyungmin opened the door cautiously and peeked out, finding you sitting up in bed, rubbing your eyes with one hand. Despite how sleepy you were, a smile appeared on your face as soon as you saw him. He felt your chest tighten warmly.

Without a word, he looked at you with deer eyes, silently hoping you would understand his motive.

And, as always, you did.

He didn't even have to explain.

Without saying anything, you made a small gesture with your hand, inviting him to come closer, and he didn't think twice about it.

He closed the door behind him and crossed the room with silent steps before slipping under the sheets beside you. The mattress was big, roomy, but as soon as he got into bed, he glued himself to you without thinking. His face hid in the hollow of your neck, his arms relaxed around you, and as soon as he felt the warmth of your skin and the leisurely rhythm of your breathing, his body loosened completely.

This.

This was what he had been looking for.

One arm of his fell lazily around your waist, and when he felt your chin rest gently on his head, he knew there was no turning back.

It was too comfortable.

Your hand slid down to his hair, stroking it in slow, gentle movements, and he instantly closed his eyes, enjoying every second of that gesture. He bit his lip to keep from smiling too much. There was no way his hyungs wouldn't tease him in the morning when they found him here, but honestly… he didn't care.

They would surely provoke him and make him blush with their teasing, but he didn't mind at all.

If the price of sleeping comfy and warm with you was putting up with their teasing… then so be it.

© veevrsee — All rights Reserved.

[kingkaisen]

♡ — Gojo is drunk and he misses you. He doesn’t seem to understand that you are sitting right in front of him.

“. . . and sh-she’s so talented and pretty . . . my pretty girl . . . you gotta meet her.” SATORU GOJO cocked his head to the side, grinning; his flushed cheeks and ears were a deep shade of red.

The tall man’s legs were outstretched. He was slumped over the arm of your couch, and though he looked like he was on the brink of falling asleep, he continued to ramble on, on, and on.

“Who’s pretty?” You questioned your drunk boyfriend with worry, folding your arms across your chest.

“My girl . . . my baby . . . she’s so . . . I love her. I’m in love. I miss her. I need her.” Satoru’s grin fell into a frown.

Clumsily, he fumbled around until his hand found his phone in his pocket.

“Gonna call her,” he mumbled.

His bright phone screen illuminated his glossy eyes, and it didn’t take long for him to groan in frustration over not being sober enough to find his pretty girl’s contact.

Satoru reached across the coffee table, handing his phone to you.

“Can you call her? I love her so much,” Satoru was on the verge of tears. “I wanna marry my pretty girl.”

“Who am I calling?” Your voice was shaky. As you held his phone in your hands, you tried your hardest to prepare yourself for the worst — hearing Satoru slur out another name.

Satoru’s head snapped in your direction. Strands of his messy white hair fell every which way across his face, but you could still make out his eyebrows, which were pinched in confusion.

“Hmm,” Satoru paused, giving you a slow blink, “you’re not that bright. Everyone knows . . . everyone knows Y/N is mine . . . don’t you know that? She’s my baby.”

You couldn’t fight the urge to grin, nor did you want to.

“Can you hurry?” With a whine, Satoru started to sink down until he was laid out across the couch cushions. “I’m gonna die if you don’t hurry and call her, please. Call her-call Y/N.”

“I’m right here, Satoru,” you said.

He looked at you again, processing your face for a moment. He rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No . . . you’re not.”

“Okay, you know what?” With a sigh, you dialed your own number and handed the phone back to Satoru. “Here.”

Satoru eagerly grabbed his phone, smiling ear to ear at the sheer anticipation of getting to talk to you.

Naturally, your phone started to ring, and you answered it, staring at your drunk boyfriend.

“Hello?” You mumbled.

“Y/N? I miss you . . . where are you?”

“I’m right here-”

“Hold on, baby.” Satoru suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear, and he shot you a tired glare. “Can you be quiet, please? I’m trying to . . . to talk to my girlfriend.”

Satoru rolled over onto his side, his back now facing you. He put the phone back up to his ear, whispering, “This woman’s so rude, Y/N. No manners . . . where are you?”

“Satoru, sweetheart, that woman is me. I’m right behind you.” You couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

Slowly, Satoru rolled back around, his eyes locking with yours as his lips parted to, once again, tell you to be quiet, but his annoyed gaze faded away. It changed into a blank expression. Then, as he studied your face further, there was a brief frown of confusion, but suddenly, his lips broke out into a wide smile. Satoru sat upright, unintentionally sending his phone tumbling to the rug below the couch.

“Y/N?” He motioned you towards his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart. Where’ve you been? I missed you so much . . . so much, baby.”

After tapping the red button on your phone to end the call, you then got up and made your way over. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap without wasting a second, his hands finding your hips as you straddled him, and he continued to ramble on, on, and on.

“Baby, there was this other woman here. She was awful . . . wouldn’t be quiet. Told her I was trying to talk to you, not her.” Satoru pulled you closer. He kissed your neck. “I missed you s-so much. Don’t leave again, okay? I don’t wanna talk to no one ‘cept you, okay, baby?”

“Okay, I promise,” you ran your fingers through his messy white hair. “I also promise to throw out all the alcohol in this house, because clearly, you can’t handle it, can you?”

“I can handle you just fine, baby. Will you kiss me now?” Satoru pulled away from your neck, those lips of his falling into a small pout.

You couldn’t help but sigh and smile over him misunderstanding everything right now.

Your needy, drunk boyfriend placed his large hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips towards his, kissing you deeply. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder if your boyfriend was this needy when he was sober, but kept it a secret.

He certainly was.

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