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NOW PLAYING . . . not me : ILLIT
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carrd | masterlist | taglist | planned posts
requests are closed! four requests in inbox 💌
WELCOME! you may call me noush <3 i only write for ENHYPEN (ot7) at the moment, but i also adore &TEAM and CORTIS. i love love love @pbananalover !!!
PLEASE NOTE . . . [I] i do not write dead dove content. [II] pleaseeee give me criticism―i always aim to improve my writing! [III] gtfo if you are racist, zionist, maga, islamophobic, homophobic; people who discriminate are not welcome here. [IV] please ask me if you want to be in my taglist! it’s always open! [V] i have the right to decline your request.
hi!!!! coming back because i just saw a really concerning post!!!! this user @/hungrilymercilessghoul is posting smut of the 09z in cortis.
this is so disgusting on so many levels, seonghyeon is a minor. writing any sexual content of him IS illegal, it’s literally child pornography (doesn’t matter if you are a minor aswell = it still is sexual content of someone who is not legal age).
besides that fact, it is just incredibly disgusting. i’m going to mention something i said in an earlier post on this ↓
idols aren't objects to be used for weirdos sexual fantasies. anyone saying "you can just ignore" / "just scroll" is apart of the problem. releasing and giving access for sexual content of minors or people who are barely legal is giving an outlet for pedos or people with bad intentions, and it makes you apart of the problem. all this content is in a space where minors (a majority of cortis's fanbase are incredibly young) will be exposed to that sort of content. it's inappropriate.
please report, block, and do not engage with anyone making this content! to anyone consuming / providing this content, seriously get a job!!! you’re disgusting!!! and if you can’t get a job, get offline cause you’re probably too young to be on here anyways.
you have niki’s dm subs!! what do you think ab people saying its parasocial cus i have my own thoughts butttt 🫠🫠🫠
YESS i dont think its that parasocial like considering i write fanfics about him😭😭😭😭 but idk i guess it depends on how people are using it?? i genuinely only use it whenever he texts +++ i occasionally write "HI I MISS YOU"
i once wrote my shopping list in there
but i think its really sweet that he finds it more comfortable to text there😭 if the members are comfortable with it then i dont think its that parasocial seriously—dont quote me on that though
𝄞ႚ . * ۪ ♡゚ this is the 'you are amazing' award! send it to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful or just take a moment to bask in your own awesomeness !! ⸜( ˃ ▿ ˂ )⸝
AHHHHH THANL YOU BABY IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY😭😭😭 I LOVE YOU!!! im going to do this soon hehe 🥹💞💞
its recently come to my attention that there has been a upsurge in sexual / nsfw content of the members of cortis, and there is a specific individual by the username of @/selestiyara who has been posting smut audios of martin & james.
this is a becoming a serious issue within coerblr, cortis is a group filled with majority minors. anyone using the argument that “martin & juhoon are 18” are apart of the problem, both of them are korean citizens, and in korea the age of consent is 19. they are both minors.
i don’t see why someone turns 18 magically makes individuals feel okay with making sexual content about them. 18 ≠ being an adult, both of them are freshly 18! the amount of juhoon smuts i’ve seen and have reported has been astounding. not only are these boys young, but they’re also people. they aren’t objects to be used for weirdos sexual fantasies.
anyone saying “you can just ignore” / “just scroll” is apart of the problem. releasing and giving access for sexual content of minors or people who are barely legal is giving an outlet for pedos or people with bad intentions, and it makes you apart of the problem. all this content is in a space where minors (a majority of cortis’s fanbase are incredibly young) will be exposed to that sort of content. it’s inappropriate.
also, the argument “well i’m the same age as them” isn’t any better. at the end of the day, you are still sexualising a young person who had access to see all this shit. i’m 17 (only a month older than seonghyeon), that doesn’t make it okay for me or anyone else my age to make / consume that sort of content of him or any of the other members.
please report, block, and do not engage with anyone making this content! people who are supplying this content obviously do not care about the effects of it, the best thing we can do is bring awareness and try to keep our community a safe space.
@/thosepeople u weird asffff get a job n hop off tumblr.com
SUMMARY: cutesie texts with your softie but nonchalant ahh dealer who clearly has feelings for you!
WORD COUNT: 15 screenshots
WARNINGS: fluff!! slight profanity, referred to as riki, obvious mention of marijuana, reader is lowkey cottagecore coded but that doesnt matter, beomgyu from txt catching a stray but I DONT MEAN IT!!!! he was the first person that came to mind, mention of wanting high sex woah, few spelling mistakes im sorry
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i love stoner!ni-ki im sorry
part two | masterlist | navigation
PAIRING: biker!ni-ki x heeseung’s sister!fem!reader
SUMMARY: getting into it with your older brother’s best friend in the middle of your kitchen was a really bad idea. especially since you could get interrupted at any time! that totally wouldn’t happen to you . . . right?
ㅤ⤷ FEATURING: heeseung, jake and sunghoon of enhypen ♡
WORD COUNT: 3,402
WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT | MDNI!!! profanity, fingering, making out, reader does NOT get to finish, non-idol au, friends with benefits???, referred to as ni-ki, same age
AUTHOR’S NOTE: that picture with those press ons really fucked me over guys. IM SORRY FOR NOT ANSWERING REQUESTS I SWEAR IM TRYING also pls be mindful that if you are a minor/have an ageless blog, i will not be tagging you for fics like these!! i think i might edit this later because this feels rushed but also thats the point i dont #KNOW also the whole biker thing isnt important to the plot of this at all, he's just a biker. enjoy!<3
masterlist | navigation
THE HOUSE WAS STILL, save for your older brother’s annoying speakers booming from the garage, probably adding some random ass modification to his car’s engine to make it go faster. Your parents wouldn’t be happy if they found out that their precious Lee Heeseung, who didn’t ‘mean’ to do any wrong, was splurging his money on stupid mechanical parts yet again—however, you personally decided that ignorance was bliss, not wanting to involve yourself with whatever illegal racing he was going enact in downtown Hongdae tonight. With your mother and father constantly getting him out of shit with the police with their hush money, it wasn’t like you could say anything to reprimand Hee.
Nonetheless, your focus was on these cookies. Kneading your fresh cookie dough with your gloved fingers, scents of vanilla and nutty chocolate whisked around your presence, rolling the dough between your palms. Unintentionally, you found yourself humming to the song Heeseung was playing—Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic. You were trying to calculate how many of them you could actually make, pausing your movements momentarily while taking a glimpse of your baking tray. A subdued shiver tickled your spine, your damp hair tucked behind your ears, skin scrubbed raw after showering off today’s sweaty activities: which only involved going on a charity run with your closest friends.
“Eight? No… maybe nine,” you mumbled to yourself, placing the dough back in your mixing bowl as you removed your apron, the material a little too tight around your hips. The placid ticking of your kitchen’s analogue clock didn’t go unnoticed, removing one of your gloves so your fingers could reach for the calculator you bought solely for your hobby of baking.
As you pressed the buttons on the tiny machine, the calculator almost slipped from your digits as you flinched from the sound of the doorbell, followed by numerous, earsplitting knocks and the use of your door knell: a heavy metal thing which was always insufferable to hear. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes trailing towards the door, another irritating voice (that you normally chose to tune out) calling from the garage.
“Y/N! Get that for me, will you?” Heeseung pleaded, lowering the volume of his speakers, scoffing quietly in slight rebellion as you tore off your other glove, having no choice but to oblige. Your slippers shuffled against the wooden floorboards of your home, fingers prodding your skin, wanting to look somewhat presentable. Ensuring there were no dry flakes of any kind scattering your countenance, you turned the key inside your door lock, opening the door with the flattest expression known to man.
“Ah, Heeseungie—! Oh. Hi, Y/N,” Jake greeted, pearly whites on display, the toothy grin of his best friend, Sunghoon, faltering only slightly when the puppy pair (as you liked to call them) found you standing under your very own doorway, immediately apologetic. They respected you a lot, obviously. You were their hyung’s little sister.
“You guys couldn’t be any louder?” You retorted, though your voice lacked any real bite as you stepped aside, a little taken aback when Sunghoon gave you a little grocery bag. “What’s this…?”
“We were at the convenience store,” Sunghoon replied, his smile courteous as they both brushed past you, dressed in monochrome shades of grey—did illegal street races have colour themes? “Just bought a few snacks and things.”
“For me?” you frowned, touched by the notion as you got ready to close the door, your eyes following both of them as they made a beeline for the garage. “You guys didn’t have to…”
“Nonsense,” Jake grinned, winking before nodding towards the doorway. “Don’t close it yet. Someone else is on his way.” Yet again, your eyebrows crinkled, whipping your head around to peek outside, the plastic bag dangling by your legs. There was literally no one here. The sun had set at least an hour ago, but the sky was a dark, cerulean sort of blue, glittered with stars, a particular Venus standing out in the midst of the horizon. That was until… the horrendous sound of a motorbike entered your hushed street, revving dangerously as it approached your humble abode, your lips parting in bewilderment at the scene. You took a step back into your hallway, lips thinning as you watched the rider kill the engine, pulling his helmet off with leather-bound hands—honey blonde strands a little poofy after being confined for so long.
“God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath, watching his onyx eyes meet yours from afar. Without another word, you left the door askew, turning on your heel and heading right back to the kitchen. Your patience would not be tempered with today.
Nishimura Riki. Called himself Ni-ki in the streets. To everyone else, he was simply the tall, bored-looking ‘bad boy’ that hung with Heeseung’s crew, organising the monthly racing functions across the many districts of the city. When it came to you, however… Riki acted differently.
Was he your boyfriend? God, no. Heeseung would freak.
You didn’t really know what he was to you.
Leaving your snack bag on your kitchen counter, you heard your front door shut a minute or two after, wearing your latex gloves once more. Kneading your cookie dough, you disregarded your calculator, realising that the odd-sized cookie could just be a tester—you never followed recipes. For now, you were opting on placing them in the oven for about fifteen minutes? Anyhow, heavy footsteps lingered outside your kitchen, heading to your garage first.
“Ni-ki yah!” Heeseung’s voice echoed a few rooms away. That name. “Get in here, you prick—”
“Give me a min. Need a piss,” Ni-ki excused himself—and, all of a sudden, those heavy footsteps were entering the kitchen.
You hadn’t wanted to look at him. Yet, you always did, your eyes landing on the tall figure who ducked his head under the arched doorway, hands clasped in front of him. Nishimura Riki tended to appear devastatingly beautiful ninety nine point nine percent of the time and it was fucking unfair. His recently bleached hair, even though it looked slightly fried under your kitchen lights, was styled with a discreet amount of gel, neatly sticking up like he’d run his hands through his locks countless times. Thick eyebrows, that had been dyed the same colour, elevated at the mere sight of you, his former monotonous expression now softening at your appearance. You weren’t wearing anything special—only your old, Bambi-themed pajamas; long-sleeved with jade green bottoms. It was his favourite set… simply because you looked adorable. He noticed that your hair was wet, your nose and cheeks pinched with the cutest shade of rouge… were you sick? Or, maybe it was just the intense heat of this household’s radiators that were bothering you. Ni-ki didn’t have time to contemplate, not with the way you were analysing him. Black leather jacket… crisp, cotton t-shirt underneath… Sagging jeans with a silver keychain dangling from it… Oh, not to mention he was wearing his favourite safety pin necklace—it rested just below his Adam’s apple. You watched the thing bob in his throat, something that tended to occur.
Not that you would know…
“Bathroom’s upstairs,” you informed him politely, studying his large hands that quickly pocketed themselves in his jeans. His gloves had been removed: it was impossible to find a day where Ni-ki wasn’t wearing his favourite Chrome Hearts rings. What you found weird—you managed to catch a glimpse of his press-ons, metallic tabs stuck to the index and pinkie fingers.
Odd placement.
“I know,” he responded, hearing his voice for the first time in days. Averting your eyes, you focused on the cookie dough, not liking that his tone had warmed the tips of your ears, a tingling sensation blanketing the chambers of your heart. As you pulled a piece off, you heard him again, forming a small ball in the crevices of your hands. “I—”
“No,” you interrupted, pressing your lips together without gifting him another glance. Ni-ki sighed, a smile beginning to form as his boots padded against the floor, making his way towards you. Paying him no mind, you placed your first cookie ball on your parchment-covered baking tray, the thrum of the pre-heated oven acting as a reminder that the two of you were not alone, pairing surprisingly well with Heeseung’s suppressed speakers.
But, of course, Ni-ki didn’t care.
“You’re mad at me,” he murmured, appearing behind you, watching you over your shoulder, minty breath kissing your earlobes. “Go on… let me have it.”
“No,” you repeated, concerning his initial statement as you portioned another ball of cookie dough, shaping it into another sphere. “I just don’t want to talk to you.” A low hum emitted from his full, pink lips, his chin finding its place on your shoulder, observing the movements of your pretty fingers. Hidden by latex. When you didn’t react to his touch, his hands snaked around your waist, his thick rings gently digging into your flesh through your clothing… you could only tsk, nudging him with your elbow as he pressed his chest against your back. “Stop it. Heeseung is literally in the next room.”
“Okay,” was the only word that left his mouth, a mere sigh leaving yours—then came the kisses, feeling him pepper his lips along the column of your throat, your cheeks flushing a deeper, almost impossible shade of red. Your moulding wavered, fingerprints squishing the mellow cookie blend, chocolate chips submerging themselves within the beige mixture. The corners of his mouth quirked upon your complexion, your pulse practically smooching his cheek with how rapidly it was beating. “Missed me?”
“Shut up…” your eyes fluttered shut, a shaky breath succeeding your retort. “You stopped texting me,” you continued, your voice much quieter now as he paused, his thumbs sticking to your stomach. “I thought you were, like… avoiding me or something.”
“Of course not, baby,” he whispered, his own eyebrows pulling together at the thought of you thinking that. He placed another kiss on your collarbone, a sensitive spot of yours—you turned your heads, eyelids lifting in a miniscule manner as they shifted to note his expression. “‘m sorry. I’ve been really busy. Not an excuse, but…” his voice trailed off, the loss of your warmth slapping him in the face as you quickly moved away, dropping your ruined cookie ball in your mixing bowl. You turned around, moving to the kitchen counter, rolling your shoulders. Almost as if you were shaking off his affection. Ni-ki’s tongue ran over the edge of his upper teeth, thumbs finding the loops of his jeans while his eyes scaled up your spine.
“You seriously can’t… kiss me here,” you could only say, sparing him another look, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “Heeseung—”
“Don’t care,” Ni-ki shrugged as you rolled your eyes, removing your fingers from the dough completely. At this rate, these cookies were not going to see the inside of your oven. “Why should he care who you sleep with?”
“He shouldn’t, but he’s my older brother at the end of the day,” you reminded him, slipping your gloves off next: your skin seemed to hate it whenever you suffocated it with latex. “And, you’re one of his best friends. You would feel the same way if someone tried asking Misora out—”
“You are a grown woman,” Ni-ki interrupted, your back still to him as you opened one of your bottom cupboards, throwing the gloves inside the bin. “Sora’s a kid. Not the same.”
“Ni-ki—” you began to sigh, your palm finding your forehead. However, he wasn’t having it, reaching for your hip and spinning you around so he could see you, cornering you against the counter. Your sigh evolved into a gasp of astoundment, breath stuttering as his other hand landed on your upper kitchen cabinet, effectively caging you in with his heat. Forced to drag your gaze over his stature, you bore witness to Ni-ki’s small pout, head leaning down so his nose could nudge yours.
“Thought I was Riki to you,” he purred, his eyes drifting towards his hand on your hip, thumb sneaking under your shirt like beforehand. You relented, huffing at how insufferable he could be.
“Riki,” you corrected yourself, palms squeezing the edge of the counter. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” He chuckled then, dipping his head even lower as he stole a kiss from your moisturised lips, not giving you a second to breathe, his forearm meandering around your waist and lifting you onto the counter effortlessly. His knee knocked your legs apart, situating itself in the middle, kissing back as a little whine spilled from your throat, the insides of your hands prickling with a searing heat created by the friction of the marble countertop.
“Then, I’ll die,” Ni-ki began, pulling away for the smallest of seconds. “A happy man.” Your lips emitted the loveliest of hymns, his hand on the cabinet dropping to the back of your neck, kissing you again like a man starved. Tongue slipping into your wet cavern, his fingers caressed the hairs on your skin, the cold dampness of your scalp a stark contrast to the warmth shared between you. Ni-ki’s spare hand made its own journey, toying with the hem of your pajama bottoms as he mumbled for permission against the cusp of your Cupid’s bow. “Can I?”
“Mhm… Please,” you whispered, your right arm coiling around his neck to steady yourself, your thighs spreading wider. Ni-ki couldn’t help but grin, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth while his hand slid under your panties, his silver rings stinging your tissue ever so sweetly—the sensation only chorussed a whimper, feeling his two middle fingers slide between your slickened folds.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, coating them with your wetness, relishing in the way your eyes had already rolled to the back of your head, forehead resting in the crook of his neck. “You really did miss me.”
“Don’t piss me off,” you confounded with a scowl, though it dissipated when his fingers finally sunk into your pussy, not even giving you the time to adjust to one. As always, you fleshed out to fit him like a glove, holding your breath—muffling your moan against his shirt as he cradled your head, beginning to pump them slowly… agonisingly.
“Shhh, my pretty girl,” Ni-ki cooed, feeling your fingernails dig into his shoulder, “Can’t be too loud, yeah? Don’t want Heeseung hyung getting suspicious.”
“Mmmkay…” you gasped, practically hearing the smugness of his expression as he scissored your folds, thumb massaging your labia (so that’s why he only wore two press-ons!)—he adored how easily you lost your attitude when you were in his arms: like putty on a hot, summer’s day.
“Good. So good for me,” he praised you, your thighs squeezing around his hand—you were a leaking mess, eyes widening in a doe-like manner as you lifted your head, forehead reaching for his. Combing his fingers through your wet hair, tenderness afflicted the dark embers of his gaze, onyx orbs fixated on your soft lips. “That’s my good girl…”
“Ki…” you only whined, vision blurring with a want you couldn’t understand, sucking in a sharp breath. He was fingering you so deliciously, fingertips stimulating your spongy walls as they sucked them in—you leaned further back, the crown of your head dormant against the upper cabinet. His eyes locked with yours, hearing you swear almost noiselessly. “F-Fuck, Riki…”
“Yeah, baby?” He crooned, dotting your cheeks with more kisses: this was not fair. You could barely respond, only managing a mewl as he trailed a path towards your jawline, your fingers tentatively grabbing his honey hair, tugging him down so he was hidden within your neck. “I’ve got you,” he continuously muttered, finally using his teeth to pinch your skin, sewing pleasant, dark blooms around your pulse point. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, eyes trained to the kitchen doorway, a little frightful of the speakers in the next room over. And, still, you felt your core climbing for a release, your eyes closing with his thumb lodged beneath your little rosy bud—
That was until the door to the garage creaked open. And, you froze. Voices. Speakers turned off.
“Fuck,” he hissed, leaving a final kiss to your beating pulse—within a second, he had withdrawn, the loss of his fingers ringing an emptiness throughout your body. Sliding off the counter with practiced ease, you pulled your pajama bottoms up, murmuring a curse or two under your breath as Ni-ki turned on the tap, running his slick-coated fingers under the lukewarm water—you could’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all if it weren’t for the fact that you had been this close to finishing. Fanning your cheeks, you turned away from him, knowing he was washing away the evidence.
Clearing his throat, Ni-ki’s head turned towards the doorway as he shut the tap off, watching his three friends enter the kitchen. Instinctively, your hand found your neck, conscious of how much of your skin he nicked off in the span of thirty seconds. Heeseung hadn’t noticed the itching tension filling the room, your eyes staying glued to the clock as Ni-ki spoke. “All done.”
“Took you long enough,” your older brother scoffed, patting the younger’s shoulder as he dried his hands with his jeans, dabbing the water drops away. Fiddling with the old string of your pajama top, Heeseung took note of your profound annoyance, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing,” you grumbled, Ni-ki coughing a little exaggeratingly as Sunghoon side-eyed their youngest, his eyes floating between you two.
“We should get going,” Ni-ki commented, hearing your low exhale but heeding you no mind, biting back a sly smile. “Y/N wants to finish her cookies, I imagine.”
“I thought they’d be in the oven by now?” Heeseung questioned, tilting his head at your silence. You hummed, gently pulling a lock of your hair.
“Fingers cramped halfway through,” you excused yourself, meeting your brother’s gaze momentarily and speaking before he could interrogate you further. “Um, what time will you be back? I don’t want to be woken up at three in the morning because of your racket.”
“Do not worry, Y/nnie—we’re like little mice,” Jake beamed, your left eye twitching at his interpretation, seeing Heeseung’s sheepish expression. Ni-ki snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he maneuvered past the trio, Sunghoon playfully shoving Jake away,
“You burst into her room last time, you know?” he reminded the latter, shaking his head as the two began bickering amongst themselves, your older brother shifting his focus back to you.
“Lock the door for me, please, Y/nnie?” He asked, reaching for your shoulder so he could plant a kiss on the top of your head, you grimacing in response. “Wish me luck, too?”
“No! You guys are going to an illegal street race thing!” You scoffed in outrage, following them out of the kitchen—you were moreso irritated because you hadn’t fucking came, and the source of your arousal was now being forced to leave. “I mean, seriously—”
“Yeah, yeah, bye!” He smiled, walking through the garage as you stopped at the doorframe, glancing at his car—it looked the freaking same despite the fact that he’d spent hours tweaking the damn thing, but what the hell would you know? Rubbing your forehead, you watched with crinkled eyebrows as Jake and Sunghoon slid into the backseat of your older brother’s ride.
And, Ni-ki? He patted the hood, entering the front yard through the garage shutters, likely heading for his bike. Unable to give you a final glance. You huffed, going back inside the main house, approaching the front door to make sure it was locked like Heeseung had asked before returning to the kitchen, losing the desire to finish moulding the stupid cookies.
But then, a minute after Heeseung’s engine came to life in the background, your phone buzzed by the kitchen sink. Fingers tapping the screen, a frown so acute painting your countenance, you bit the insides of your cheeks, the text messages floating into your mind.
ki<3: i’m sorry, pretty 6:59 PM
ki<3: you’re so cute 6:59 PM
ki<3: sneaking into your bedroom tonight 6:59 PM
ki<3: don’t fucking touch yourself while i’m gone 6:59 PM
The wrinkle in your forehead softened, that familiar flush returning to the apples of your cheeks. Damn him.
you: creep 7:00 PM
you: don’t keep me waiting x 7:00 PM
please note that i will try and prioritise requests before my own ideas, but my writer’s block does not always guarantee this </3
LEE HEESEUNG . . .
i. UNTITLED: heeseung finally obtained the courage to ask you out on a date! only... your little brother, riki, thought it would be a fun idea to crash it. whoops. [ smau/texts | fluff | oneshot ]
NISHIMURA RIKI . . .
i. UNDER THE SUN: part two to under the moon. your vampire boyfriend is unable to control his bloodlust after seeing you accidentally cut your finger. so, naturally, you offer your throat to him. so romantic! [ written | fluff? | part two ]
iii. UNTITLED: you were not expecting to get any attention other than a quick hello at the enhypen post-concert sign off—until, your outfit catches the eye of a particular dancer… hijabi!reader [ written | fluff | oneshot | requested by anon ]
iv. UNTITLED: during a late night, you end up texting your boyfriend while walking home, asking for help after a particular stranger won't leave you alone . . . [ written | angst/fluff | oneshot | requested by anon ]
v. UNTITLED: summary coming soon - idol!ni-ki x idol!pink-haired!reader . . . [ written/smau | fluff | oneshot | requested by @bellzybub22 ]
vii. UNTITLED: summary coming soon - idol!ni-ki x engene!reader, based on this tiktok . . . [ written/smau | fluff | requested by 🪽 anon ]
hes actually such a freak dont even joke. his middle and ring finger not having press ons??? THE KISS TATTOOOOO??? his partner is lucky as hell oh my god oh my god😭😭😭😭
my heart actually hurts for enha like godddd😭😭😭 all sorts of shit being said on twitter after todays beautiful performance like can we not... heeseung would be so disappointed seeing those tweets idgaf
keeping sunoo in my pocket some ‘engenes’ dont deserve him fr
