#han fluff

But outside of that world?

He’s just a soft, sweet potato of a person. Cute, warm, and very much cuddly. Maybe that’s exactly why you find yourself admiring him so much.

Jisung sometimes struggles to express himself properly, yet he always manages to find his own way to let out what he’s feeling. And honestly, you find that incredibly admirable. When he gets frustrated, he rarely lashes out. Instead, the only thing you’ll notice is a small hint of aggression in the way he moves or sighs—nothing too harsh, just enough to show what’s going on inside his head.

And of course, you let him be.

To him, it simply looks like part of your personality. He assumes you’re naturally accommodating because you’re a foreigner, someone trying to respect the way he grew up and the culture around him.

For what it’s worth, Han Jisung usually speaks to you in straight English. That’s how Felix and Chan communicate with you most of the time anyway. Even though you’re half Korean, the Aussie duo knows you prefer speaking English since you spent most of your life outside Korea. And being the considerate people they are, they always choose whatever makes you most comfortable.

That trait is something the youngest member of 3RACHA picked up from Bang Chan.

Jisung saw how Chan quietly looked after you, how he adjusted things to make sure you felt included. Somewhere along the way, Jisung decided he wanted to do the same. Unfortunately, his clumsiness—and his obliviousness—never really went away.

You had told everyone before that you preferred speaking English not because you weren’t fluent in Korean. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Your Korean was actually very good. Your parents spoke it at home all the time, so you grew up understanding it naturally. But English just felt easier to you. It flowed more naturally.

Somehow, though, Jisung misunderstood that. And because of that misunderstanding, he eventually started speaking to you in straight Korean whenever he wanted to say something he thought you wouldn’t understand.

Little did he know, you understood everything.

One morning, for example.

“아침 일찍부터 이렇게 예뻐야만 하는 건가요?” (Do you really need to be this pretty early in the morning?)

He had said it the moment he spotted you stepping out of your dorm early that day. You understood every single word. And it made you blush.

Meanwhile, Jisung simply assumed you liked hearing him speak Korean.

Sometimes he would mix the languages without realizing it.

“여보, have you seen the music sheet Channie-hyung lent me last night? I can’t remember where I put it.”

You had to purse your lips together just to stop yourself from smiling. Of course, Jisung noticed the reaction immediately—and it only made him feel proud of himself.

“I placed it in your room earlier,” you replied after steadying yourself. “It’s in the drawer of your side table.”

Other times, he would say things that made your heart do things you weren’t prepared for.

“나와만 함께 있어 줄 수 없어? 매번 질투나게 하잖아.” (Can’t you just spend time with me? You keep making me jealous.)

He would say it whenever you were hanging out with Felix more often. Each time, the words would twist your insides and leave you feeling strangely floaty and giddy. Meanwhile, Jisung simply interpreted your reaction as you being charmed by his Korean accent. Which, to be fair, wasn’t completely wrong.

So when he asked you to be his date to a small party celebrating I.N’s birthday and graduation, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

And that night, you showed up wearing the most beautiful dress Han Jisung had ever seen. The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

“너 정말 예쁘다. 네가 내 여자친구였으면 좋겠다.” (You’re so beautiful. I wish you were my girlfriend.)

He said it softly, almost breathless. And just like that, you melted where you stood. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, warm and bright, a wide smile spreading across your face. For a moment, Jisung could only stare back, as if the rest of the world had disappeared and it was just the two of you standing there.

He only snapped out of it when he heard you speak.

“You know…” you began gently. “내가 한국어를 할 수 있다는 거 알지?” (You do know I can speak Korean, right?)

And just like that, his entire world stopped. The color drained from his face first before it rushed back all at once, turning his ears and cheeks bright red. You burst into genuine laughter at the sight. He looked like someone had just dropped him into a completely different dimension.

“W–wait—what?” he stammered, struggling to form proper words as realization slowly crashed down on him. His eyes widened.

“Does that mean you understood everything I said before?”

He sucked in a breath before covering his face with his palm.

“Spot on, king,” you teased, giggling as he dragged his hand through his hair before burying his face again.

“You should have told me!” he groaned. “That was so embarrassing!”

He crouched down, hiding his face in his arms like the world had just betrayed him. You crouched down too, lowering yourself until your face was level with his.

“It wasn’t embarrassing,” you said softly. “If anything, you were cute trying to impress me with your Korean.”

You tilted your head with a teasing smile.

“And to be honest… it worked.”

Jisung responded with a soft, dramatic whine, still trying to process the fact that he had unknowingly confessed so many things in front of you. You watched him for a moment before speaking again.

“And about what you said earlier…” You paused.

“I don’t mind. 네 여자친구라는 게.” (Being your girlfriend, that is.)

Jisung groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face.

“Can you let me breathe for a bit first?” he whined. “Let me recover from the first one before you drop another bomb on me, 아이구!”

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“Oh, you should’ve just said that then! He’s snackish,” you reply, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why you’re positioned between Felix’s thighs, back to his chest, head lolled, letting him nibble on your neck as he pleases. The numbing agent in his saliva makes you feel slightly floaty. 

He is not actually putting any effort into it, like he does when he feeds. He just passively lets trace amounts of blood travel through his fangs every so often. Enough to satiate. Enough to satisfy neediness. 

Jeongin, sprawled across a couch and paying zero attention to you, mutters, “This is such a stupid show.” It’s the first time he’s spoken in over an hour, too enthralled to interrupt the stupid show beforehand. It’s not enough to dissuade you from chucking a throw pillow in his direction. 

Turning back to Chan, you reiterate, “Come join.” He opens his mouth to refuse, but you speak first. “You were up until noon yesterday, at least take a break. With us, preferably.” 

Against your neck, Felix nods his head as much as he can in his position. 

“No. I have work to do,” Chan replies. He doesn’t make a move to go do his work, though. It’ll be a back-and-forth conversation, then. He always breaks, nobody knows why he still insists on putting up a squabble over things like this. Appearances, probably. 

It takes a few seconds to fish the remote out of your pile of blankets, but eventually you find it and lower the volume. Everyone resolutely ignores Jeongin’s protesting groan. 

Felix finally disconnects and licks over his puncture marks. Their saliva contains healing properties, and it’s a general house rule that they don’t leave visible marks anywhere on your skin. A smattering of bite marks decorate your inner thighs – it’s a point of pride for a few select members. 

“Tastes good.” Felix says. He’s behind you, but you can hear the pout in his voice. “Get over here.” 

“It’s not healthy for more than one person to feed from you at a time. You’ll lose too much blood.” 

“He’s not sucking that hard,” Jeongin interjects, apparently now committed to the conversation  now that he can’t hear your cartoon. “Don’t,” a pointed look at you, “It’s too easy of a joke.” 

“You don’t like how I taste?” 

Chan throws a mirroring pointed look at Jeongin, his own silent plea not to take the bait. Then he turns back to you. “Honey, you know that’s not what I meant, but you’ll get lightheaded without food.”

Felix grabs a strawberry off the brownie-and-fruit plate beside the two of you. 

“You’ll get cold.” 

You shift to get comfier in Felix’s embrace and adjust the blankets draped across your lap. 

Twin pairs of footsteps creaking down the staircase interrupts any other argument Chan could put up. Han and Minho appear – Minho looking smug, while Han is smoothing down his hair. They’re both too enamored with each other to notice everyone else staring at them, watching their grand entrance. 

A few more steps down, one instance of Han nearly tripping down the stairs, and Minho finally looks up. He surveys the scene. Studies Chan’s stance. Glances over you and Felix. “Oh, are we snacking?” he asks.

Instead of verbally answering, you hold out your closest arm in offering. 

Han emits an incomprehensible noise that might not be words at all, then immediately turns into a blur. One moment he is still descending the stairs, the next he’s diving onto the floor and crashing into your side. 

For all his eagerness, Han takes great care not to harm you. 

He grasps your arm in his cold fingers, careful not to bend it uncomfortably, then sinks his fangs into the crook of your elbow. A slight prick of familiar pain sprouts in the seconds before his saliva takes effect. Soon enough, Han’s snuggling into your side, while Felix pulls you in closer with a gentle hum and reattaches himself. 

Minho follows Han to the ground, as he tends to go wherever Han goes. There’s another pinprick on your wrist when he joins in. 

The four of you settle into each other while a new episode’s introduction begins. Much to Jeongin’s delight, Felix reaches around to grab the remote off your lap and turn up the volume again. 

Chan releases a disbelieving sigh, but gives in anyway, just like everybody – including himself, if he’s honest – knew he would. It’s common knowledge he never stands a chance against any of you. As much as he would deny it if asked, he will actually do most things you want. 

He announces over the theme song, like it’s news, “Fine, but I still won’t feed. It’s the principle of it.” 

“You have too many principles of things,” Jeongin murmurs. 

It was barely audible, but Chan heard it just fine. Jeongin doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. 

Chan crosses over to where Jeongin is splayed out, pauses in front of the couch, and lets his entire body weight fall on top of the youngest. A slight kerfuffle breaks out while he tries to take up as much of Jeongin’s real estate as he possibly can. Jeongin relents, accepting fate, and allows himself to be cuddled. 

The couch is definitely not big enough for two grown men to lay horizontal, but they make it work. While everyone else is distracted watching the screen, Jeongin presses a kiss into the top of his head and begins playing with the ends of his hair. Chan isn’t the only one whose appearances crumble nearly instantly. 

Over time and more episodes, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin all wander into the living room. Seungmin wordlessly takes up post with your other wrist and stays there, batting away Changbin when he tries to squeeze in. 

It’s comfortable, steady, domestic in a way that makes your thoughts fuzzy if you think about it too long – which might have something to do with the four vampires attached to you, but that’s neither here nor there. 

An hour later, Chan’s snores ring out through the room. They nearly drown out the speakers. Jeongin insists you pause the show for him while he carries the oldest to bed. Hyunjin insists he’s too old to be this invested – notably, it’s also the first time he’s spoken since he joined the cuddle pile. 

Now that he’s started talking, though, he keeps at it, whining to Felix, “You’ve had her neck forever! I wanna turn!” 

Felix’s grip on you tightens. His thighs move upwards to cage you further into him. Hyunjin gets the message. 

Night evolves into dawn, and the beginnings of early light seep through your curtains around everyone’s yawns. The living room divulges into darkness when a half-conscious Felix turns off the screen. Your marathon is finally over. Nobody paid any attention to the last few episodes anyway.  

Minho jostles Han awake, fangs still sunken in your skin. Sleepily, Minho licks over both his and Han’s marks and whisks away the younger man to bed. 

You don’t even realize you’re moving until Felix has you pressed against his chest. He whispers, “C’mon, love, let’s go to bed,” into your ear, just for you to hear. 

Truthfully, he could have yelled it from the highest rooftop. He could have screamed it into a microphone. It wouldn’t make a difference. You’re the only person he wishes to hear him. Everything he speaks is for you and the other seven members of his house. And he’ll spend the rest of eternity grateful that you’re his.

☆ note: wrote this between clients, so if it's ass do not tell me, ty love u

and, like, it wasn't their fault. they weren't trying to exclude you, and if you asked, they would gladly explain the story. but explaining a joke always took the fun out of it, and it only served as a reminder that you weren't there when it happened.

this had been happening more and more. a specific phrase would make them both giggle, or a song would come on the radio and they’d exchange a knowing glance. every time it happened, a cold, heavy knot formed in your stomach.

the thought had started as a tiny whisper a few weeks ago, but now it was a constant, loud voice in your head: you don't fit here. they were perfect together. they balanced each other out completely. you loved them both so much, but you were starting to feel like a guest in your own relationship, a temporary addition that they would eventually realize they didn't actually need.

what would you do when that day came? wouldn't it just be better to leave now? wouldn't it... hurt less?

the episode ended, and the room fell into a quiet, comfortable silence. comfortable for them, maybe, because you just felt like you were out of place.

"hey," felix’s soft voice broke the quiet. you felt his hand drop onto your shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing through your shirt. "you've been really quiet tonight. are you tired, darling?"

"a little bit," you lied softly, keeping your eyes on the floor.

jisung leaned over the edge of the couch, his face coming into your line of sight. his eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes fixed your face with instant worry. "it's not just tired. you have your thinking face on. what's wrong?"

you swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears. you hadn't planned on saying anything, but it was getting too much.

"do you guys... ever feel like you're just humoring me?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

felix’s hand stopped moving on your shoulder. jisung sat up straight, his expression turning completely serious.

"what do you mean?" jisung asked, sliding off the couch to sit on the floor right in front of you, crossing his legs so he was eye-level. felix followed a second later, sitting right beside him, his warm hand instantly finding yours and locking his fingers with yours.

"just... tonight," you said, looking down at your intertwined fingers with felix. "and last week. you guys have so many stories and jokes that i don't know. you look at each other and just know what the other person is thinking. and i'm just sitting here."

"sweetheart," felix murmured, his voice laced with sudden hurt. "we don't ever want you to feel like that."

"i know you don't," you said quickly, a tear finally escaping and hitting your knee. you don't wipe it away. "that's why it's worse. you guys are so good to me, but i just feel like i'm forcing myself into a space that was already full. you two were happy before me. you make sense. i feel like i'm just... breaking up your rhythm. or something."

"stop," jisung said. his voice wasn't mean, but it was incredibly firm, cutting off your words. he reached out, taking your face in both of his hands, forcing you to look at him. his eyes were shiny with unshed tears, looking completely heartbroken. "don't ever say that. don't even think it."

"jisung—"

"no, listen to me," he insisted, his thumbs wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. "yes, 'lix and i have history. we can't change that. but our history ended where you started. when we asked you to be with us, it wasn't because we had extra room or because we were bored. it was because we both fell completely in love with you."

"we were happy before, yeah," felix joined in, his grip on your hand tighteing almost painfully. "but it's nothing compared to how happy we are now. you didn't break our rhythm, you made it better."

you looked between the two of them, your breath hitching as you saw the absolute sincerity and desperation in both of their faces. they weren't just saying things to make you feel better. it seemed like they were genuinely terrified that you believed you didn't belong.

"i'm just scared," you admitted, your voice breaking as more tears came. "i don't want to be the person that holds you guys back from just being you."

jisung let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face. "there is no us without you anymore. we don't want it. if we're making inside jokes, tell us to shut up. tell us to explain it. we're idiots sometimes, we don't realize we're doing it, but please don't pull away from us."

"we'll make new jokes," felix promised. "we have the rest of our lives to make memories where you're right in the middle of them. you're ours. completely equal. always."

jisung pulled back just enough to press a firm, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting like salt and reassurance. the moment he pulled away, felix shifted up to kiss your cheek, his arms wrapping securely around your waist from the side, anchoring you between the two of them.

you sat there on the living room floor, surrounded by their warmth. you still had a lot of history to learn, and there would still be days where you felt a little left behind, but looking at the two boys holding onto you like you were their entire world, you finally believed that you weren't going anywhere.

jisung sniffled. "that show sucked, by the way—"