Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst.. but it’s mostly fluff
Hongjoong isn’t the type to make a scene, but he has a way of making his presence known. If someone’s getting too bold with you, he doesn’t interrupt—he simply slides an arm around your waist, presses a slow kiss to your temple, and stares. His eyes flick to the person in front of you, unreadable but sharp, and his fingers drum against your hip like he’s calculating something. Later, when you’re alone, he leans against the doorframe with a smirk. “You looked real cute shutting them down, baby. But next time, don’t make me remind them who you belong to.”
Seonghwa doesn’t get openly jealous—he gets quiet. If someone’s getting too close, he doesn’t argue or glare. Instead, his arm slides around your waist, pulling you in effortlessly, his voice smooth and deliberate. “I think we were in the middle of something, weren’t we, love?” He doesn’t acknowledge the other person, doesn’t need to. The way he tucks you against him, fingers ghosting over your hip, makes it clear—you’re his, and no one else gets a chance. Later, as he holds you close, he murmurs, “I don’t like sharing, baby. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Yunho tries not to be jealous—he really does. But the moment he sees someone getting a little too comfortable with you, his easygoing smile tightens just a little, and before you know it, he’s towering over you both, arm slung around your shoulders. “Oh hey, I don’t think we’ve met—I’m her boyfriend.” His voice is friendly, but the way he squeezes you just a bit closer tells you everything. Later, as he hugs you from behind, he pouts, “You’re mine, you know that? Don’t make me go all scary next time.”
Yeosang doesn’t say he’s jealous, but his body language says it all. The second someone starts flirting with you, his usual calm expression sharpens, and suddenly, he’s right next to you, looking down at them like they’re barely worth his time. He doesn’t start a fight—he just waits. Lets them feel the weight of his stare. Lets you feel the warmth of his hand against your back. Later, as he traces patterns on your skin, he murmurs, “Didn’t like that. Next time, I won’t be so nice.”
San is all about physical reminders of who you belong to. The second he sees someone getting too close, he’s behind you, hands gripping your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Having fun, baby?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s something dangerous in the way his fingers tighten. He doesn’t even look at the other person—he just tilts your chin toward him, all slow and deliberate, before pressing a kiss to your lips like no one else is there. Later, when you’re alone, he hums, “You like testing me, don’t you? It’s cute.”
Mingi hates getting jealous because he knows how he gets—impulsive, flustered, just a little too obvious. If someone flirts with you, he’s suddenly right there, looming behind you like a shadow, voice dropping dangerously low. “Oh wow, you thought you could talk to my baby while I wasn’t looking?” He lets out a slow chuckle, arms crossing over his chest, and stares. The second you’re alone, he’s tugging you onto his lap, lips brushing your neck as he mutters, “Don’t like when people forget you’re mine.”
Wooyoung is the king of being petty, and he does not hide it. The second he notices someone flirting with you, he’s suddenly all over you, arms locked around your waist, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh wow, you thought you could talk to my baby while I wasn’t looking? That’s cute.” He flashes them a grin, but his grip on you tightens just enough to make his point. The moment you’re alone, he pulls you onto his lap, fingers tracing slow circles on your thigh as he mutters, “I don’t share, sweetheart. Hope they got the message.”
Jongho doesn’t get jealous easily, but when he does, you feel it. He doesn’t interrupt—doesn’t need to. He just stands there, arms crossed, waiting for the poor soul trying to flirt with you to notice. And when they finally do? He just raises a single eyebrow, expression unreadable, and tilts his head toward you. “You done here?” He doesn’t need to say anything else—because once he takes your hand and pulls you away, it’s over. Later, he just shakes his head, sighing. “You really make me work, huh?”
