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. . . life is like jeno, he comes and he goes❕

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bookshelf，series，wattpad

#nct dream #nct dream fanfic #tomorrow x together #txt fanfic #zerobaseone #zerobaseone fics #p1harmony #p1harmony fanfic #markbigdicklee's masterlist

autumn leaves : park jisung

nct dream mlst

pairing — non-idol!jisung x idol!reader

content — another college au (i’m sorry), angsty, non-idol!jisung au, fwb (implied), cigarettes, drunk!jisung, inspired by doona! kdrama

syn — the three times jisung answers your calls and the one time he doesn't.

you wake up in an empty bed and for a split second, you’re convinced you dreamt the night—of him telling you he’s sorry, that he did you wrong and he regrets it. you’re sure that you’d dreamt of his hands on your bare skin, of his breath caressing your face and pressing i love yous on your skin.

or worse, he’s abandoned you like everyone else in this world.

but the bed is not that cold and you force yourself to open your eyes properly. you can see jisung shuffling around, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not disturb your sleep. your breathing steadies as you watched him carefully move his books about. just looking at him calms you and provides you with a solace you had been longing for quite sometime now.

jisung has changed in the time you hadn’t seen him. it is subtle but it doesn’t miss your eye. for one, he curses easily now. he has said ssibal three times in the five minutes that you’ve watched him shuffle around when he was being loud. the air around him is lighter too, as if some of the threads tethering him to one place have been snapped.

none of these things are bad perse but you can’t help but feel something is amiss with him—or between you both? but you’d rather bite your tongue than admit that.

“ji,” you mumble in a groggy voice. you’re not sure where the term of endearment comes from, but it rolls off your tongue easily.

the sound of your voice startles him, and he yelps in surprise. a laugh escapes your throat as he spins around on his heel, hand clutched to his heart. his eyes are wide, and you laugh again. well, he is still adorable as always. perhaps, even more so.

you pat the space next to you as you pushed yourself up. he sits down and you pause before speaking. you had almost forgotten how he looked—his long lashes, a strong jaw and high cheekbones. you’ve etched them into your memory again. you’re not sure when you will see him again, after all—and that thought alone made your stomach sink.

“do you want to eat?” you asked, a sly smile on your face as you expect him to chuckle at you. but he looks at you, lips pressed into a thin line.

“y/n,” he says slowly, “i think you should check your phone.”

ah, fuck. you had convinced yourself for the night that you weren’t a star and showing up at a man’s dorm room in the middle of the night and screaming at him would have no consequences. but you needed to face reality now. safe to say, the thought doesn’t excite you. you pinched the bridge of your nose as he handed you the phone.

there are a thousand missed calls, from your manager to other staff that you work with. a hundred text messages that you just glance over.

you chewed your bottom lip. “jisung-ah…”

“i know. you have to go,” he says, and you snapped your head up. the words feel harsh. or rather, it’s his matter of fact tone that does. either way, you felt that you’ve been burned. but you couldn’t tell him that because it is, in fact, the truth. you needed to leave this room discreetly.

you stared at him for a long moment, trying to gauge what was happening between you both. you found no answers. he doesn’t offer any either.

at last, you say, “i’ll call you.”

and then, you put on your clothes and is out of the door in a moment.

one.

the first time that you’ve called him after that night is almost a month and a half later. your agency had lost their shit when you didn’t pick up their calls the whole night and it had made it harder for you to make them leave you alone.

but you finally did, you called him. it’s half past eleven and you’re outside his dorm buildings. the phone rings twice before he picks up. he seems to be startled by your call.

“y/n?” he says questioningly, voice laced with surprise.

“come outside. let’s go have some jjangmyeon.”

“now?”

“yes, right now!”

you’re not sure but you think you hear him exhale slowly in frustration. you shake your head and hang up.

it takes him four minutes and thirty eight seconds to come outside—yes, you counted. as soon as you saw him, you yelled, “jisung-ahhhh” and skipped over to him. jisung’s pace quickens, and he looks around, worry lines creasing his face. he shushes you when he’s close enough.

you fall silent when you see his face. it doesn’t seem to be lighthearted. your heart twists inside your chest but you ignore that pang. instead, you asked him, “where should we go?”

jisung presses his lips into a thin line and you think you hadn’t seen him smile in forever, especially at you. you burry the thought to ruminate over it later. “somewhere quiet,” he says after forever.

and even though he gives you a soft smile when he says that, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

two.

the second time that you called him, it takes him almost a minute to pick up.

“ji,” you say as a form of greeting.

“oh, what’s up?” he says in response, sounding distracted. he doesn’t acknowledge the nickname this time either. it doesn’t matter.

“i was writing a melody. for an upcoming album, you see,” you explained, “and i kept thinking of you. the first vacation we went on, to be specific.”

“oh?”

“yeah. do you think we should go on an overseas trip this time? perhaps next month?” you swung your legs over the ledge of the window, the unlit cigarette in your hand being crushed between your fingers. you don’t smoke anymore, not really. but even though you had gotten rid of your the smoking habit, you hadn’t quite let go of the cigarettes yet.

“ah, y/n, i’m sorry but can i call you back later? i’m tutoring a kid, you see.”

“tutoring?” you asked but before you can even say okay, he’s hung up.

can i call you back later. he never does.

three.

the third time you call jisung, it’s almost five months later. you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t cave, you would let him come to you and beg for you. but he hadn’t and you had been too weak to resist. after you had finally thrown out that packet of cigarettes, you wanted to talk to someone and there was no one besides him.

he picks up sooner this time.

“y/nnnnnn,” he drawls, slurring over his words and you immediately felt repulsed. this seems even less like the park jisung you knew. you can barely recognize his drunk voice.

“who did you drink with?” you asked, curiously.

“just some friends,” he answers vaguely. this is not the park jisung you know. it’s not. you wanted your mind to shut up, but the voice only seems to get louder as jisung rambles an irrelevant tale. you couldn’t even bring yourself to be thankful that he’s finally talking about ordinary things with you. you have craved for this since so long.

“goodnight, jisung,” you whispered and hung up.

he doesn’t pick up. once, twice and thrice. he doesn’t pick up.

at the end, in a voice mail, you told him to fuck off. your voice is feverish and tired. sweat rolling down your forehead and you heaved a heavy breath when you threw your phone across the room. you had thought it would make you feel better. it didn’t.

(later, when you’re curled up on the floor where your phone landed, a lit cigarette between your fingers, you see that jisung has called you a dozen times through the cracked screen of your phone. you pretended you didn’t see it).

#nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x female reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream au #nct dream headcanons #nct dream jisung #park jisung #park jisung au #park jisung angst #park jisung x reader #park jisung imagines #park jisung fanfic #park jisung scenarios #park jisung headcanons #jenorotic works

lifeguard!intak headcanons : hwang intak

p1h mlst

pairing — hwang intak x f!reader

content — lifeguard!intak, fluff

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who is the center of attention at the pool. yes, despite the music, the pool floats, and the wave machine, all that the girls (and some of the guys) can focus on is intak as he sits atop the lifeguard chair. who can blame them? his tanned body and rippling muscles would make anyone turn their head. some of the ladies attempt small talk, craning their necks as they ask tak if their swimsuit looks nice. some of the guys flex their muscles as they ascend the diving board, flashing quick glances to make sure that he's looking. tak notices none of them. the only person he cares about is you. from his lifeguard seat, he gazes down with affection as you freestyle in the cerulean water.

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who “accidentally” forgets to put on sunscreen, just so that you can apply it for him. your hands knead the muscles in his back and arms as you sit behind him, one leg on either side of his body. his warm skin is smooth against your hands, the cool cream melting into his olive skin. “thanks, y/n,” he sighs. to that, you say, “you really need to stop forgetting your sun screen, tak. i can't always be there to do it for you.” intak only laughs lightly in reply; he knows you like helping him, and that you'll always be there, no matter what you say.

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who keeps a lookout for unwanted advances from other people. of course, he loves it when you make new friends. however, being the pretty girl you are, weirdos are always trying to take their chances and chat you up. but tak won't have any of it. when he notices a conversation is getting uncomfortable, he’ll immediately step in and have your back.

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who gives you more than enough money needed to buy yourself drinks and bingsu at the poolside bar. you (unsuccessfully) try to refuse his kindness. “really, tak, it’s okay,” you laugh. “i have my own money to buy food if i need it!” “just take it,” intak replies, folding your fingers over the notes he’s pressed into your palm. “it’s your money now.”

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who pays for your dinner at the bar after work. no matter how much you order, no matter how much it costs, he’s standing with his card ready to cover the bill for you. “it’s fine, tak, i can pay for my own.” you say, embarrassed. “i know,” he says back. “I just want to do it anyway.” when you really insist on paying for yourself, he lets you- but transfers the exact cost into your account, acting like he didn’t know where it came from.

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who waits until lockup when you have the pool to yourselves, swimming laps around the pool as the sun goes down and the stars come up. when you’re tired of swimming around, he’s gentle with you, holding your waist as you balance on his lap in the water. “do you think you can see any constellations up there?” he smiles as you look up at the dark sky. “yeah,” you reply, your voice soft and low. “they always shine brighter when i’m with you.” he says, leaning in to kiss you.

「 lifeguard!intak. 」

⤷ who is obsessed with the water- including the creatures that live in it. at every given opportunity, he’s telling you facts about fish, anemone, and sea mammals with a passion that only a genuine fan could have. in his apartment, he has pet fish that he takes care of and has names for. together, you stare at them in awe, their vivid colors bouncing off of your irises. it’s no wonder that tak is a lifeguard- if there’s a job to do with water, he’s on it.

#p1harmony #p1harmony headcanons #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony one shots #p1harmony intak #hwang intak #hwang intak fanfic #hwang intak x reader #hwang intak headcanons #hwang intak fluff #hwang intak imagines #hwang intak one shots #hwang intak scenarios #jenorotic works

exhibit a : park gunwook

zb1 mlst

pairing — park gunwook x f!reader

content — fluff, slight humor, scavenger hunt, gw is a cocky mf

syn — matthew sends gunwook on a hunt for clues but instead, he finds you.

matthew is never allowed to plan a single event ever again.

gunwook never wants to hear the words, ‘c’mon, it’ll be an adventure!’ leave his lips.

only chaos he’s forced to commit to, follows.

they let him choose this month’s rapport-building group activity and of course, because matthew is himself through and through, he’s sent all five of the other boys scattered around the area on a scavenger hunt for their two, particular items to bring to the address he gave them. everyone has three hints and two items to bring. gunwook’s first hint led him to a parking lot in a plaza-style center. he found his next clue attached to the window of an abandoned shop. the second hint is as confusing as one might think.

everyone in this room has lived a long life. everyone in this room has been restored and renewed. everyone in this room is needed to make a house a home. a chair is still a chair even when no one is sitting there. what you’re looking for holds history amongst other things. within it, you’ll find left and right.

he spent roughly two hours staring at the little paper and trying to connect any kind of dots on where he might go. all matthew gave them was a square on a map representing the boundaries of where all the items were. after musing over it for a while, gunwook looks at the shops around him. the next place he’s looking for has to be here.

otherwise, there’s no real reason for him to have been led here.

although, gunwook is well aware that sometimes matthew simply just does things with no real rhyme or reason. suddenly, gunwook groans as he stares at the little hint card and wonders if this has an actual purpose at all or if he’s off in some remote location, snickering to himself about how he has them all running around like headless chickens.

then, right before he concludes that matthew is just fucking with all of them, his eyes land on a small little antique furniture shop all the way across the busy street. if he wasn’t still standing exactly where matthew had left the second clue, it would have been clear out of sight, lost behind large buildings and a shroud of bushy trees.

park’s antiques and furniture

bingo.

not only did the tiny building share his name, but an antique shop would insinuate a room full of items that had lived a long life. to resell said items, the furniture has likely been touched up and restored. you need furniture to make a house feel more like a home.

his feet start pushing hastily on the pavement. now that he knows this isn’t matthew just dragging them all through hoops for fun, gunwook feels his little spark of competitiveness suddenly become a flame. and then, as his steady but intentional steps continued, he burst into a sprint to get to the street and cross as soon as possible.

he wants to be first. and he has a feeling that matthew expects him to be.

after all, no one understands the inner workings of matt’s mischievous mind like him.

gunwook feels as though it says something about their closeness if he isn’t first.

the other boys are finally starting to text the group chat that they’ve found their second clue. gunwook was the first to reach his and matthew responded with a simple [ 🤭 ]. gunwook doesn’t have time to look and verify, but it’s a safe assumption considering the frequency of his phone buzzing when he has ‘do not disturb’ very active for everyone but them.

it’s his rule of thumb when he spends time with anyone.

‘dnd unless it’s we’ is what matthew calls it.

gunwook finally makes it to the very busy street he’s supposed to somehow cross twice to make it there. he could have gotten in a car but considering the heaviness of traffic on his way and observing it now as he stands on the side of the road, he determines this was the fastest option.

definitely not the safest.

but definitely the most efficient.

gunwook’s eyes light up when he looks to his right and sees a crosswalk. it’s truly his saving grace because not only does he not want to risk his precious life running through oncoming traffic, he’s a law-abiding citizen and crosswalks protect them all.

once he crosses, he books it across the large parking lot where the little establishment stood. a smile crawls across his face at how quickly he figured his out (it was completely by chance of sight) and then smirks at how many quality quips he’ll make once he wins.

it’s not a competition, but he’s winning.

a pleasant bell chimes as he walks into the building. everything about this place is aged, from the rusty metal borders lining the smudgy glass door to the concept of the business. when he enters, his nose crinkles at the smell. it’s not the worst thing he’s ever smelled but even the air is aged.

it smells like boxes in the attic opened up for the first time in years; it smells like a pandora’s box of dust, moth balls, and someone else’s unwanted past.

“welcome!” your bright voice says sweetly upon his entry. “please have a look around and let me know if you need anything.”

gunwook’s head turns and he sees you sitting there at the register in a very large baseball tee and jeans with a cheerful smile on your face as you wave to greet his arrival. the way your cheeks burst and your eyes carried a glint of excitement is what makes the smile he returns more reciprocal and less obligatory. he blinks a few times, trying to stay focused, but park gunwook has always been a sucker for a pretty face.

“hello, i have a question for you…” his voice trails as he approaches the counter.

he doesn’t necessarily need your name to ask his question, but it doesn’t hurt to have.

“y/n,” you finish for him, smile still tugging at your lips. “ask away.”

gunwook looks around the building and pulls out his hint card. “has a boy around my age with dark, fluffy hair come by here recently?”

“well, honestly, lots of boys your age with dark, fluffy hair come through here.” you note, gesturing towards him, a boy his age with dark and fluffy hair. “exhibit a. care to be more specific?”

it’s the way you smirk as you ask that lets him know you know exactly who he’s talking about but you’re either giving him a hard time for the hell of it or because matthew told you not to make it easy on him. either way, he knows you know what he’s there for.

“he’s very handsome, like outlandishly beautiful.” gunwook details with a thoughtful hum.

“again,” you begin with this little twinkle in your eye. “exhibit a.”

gunwook pauses for a moment, just peering at you, unable to hide his endeared smile even with him biting his lip nervously. it’s embarrassing. he knows his cheeks must look so full.

“well, aren’t you a real charmer?”

a casual shrug. “only when the right one wanders in.”

“i wonder…” gunwook’s head cocks to the side curiously. “did matthew receive similar treatment?”

you hum, touching your chin as if you’re contemplating. cutely, you shake your head. “no, he seemed a bit too manic for my taste.”

narrowed eyes and a knowing smirk. “so you do know who i’m referencing.”

this business seems like the kind of place that’s never really too lively. it’s quite likely that matthew’s shenanigans have been the most exciting part of your day as an employee here. so maybe you were just tugging his leg to squeeze some fun out of it for yourself, but the flirtatious little glimmer he keeps catching tells him maybe you could give up what he’s looking for quite easily, but you don’t want to. at least not quite yet.

“guilty,” you giggle. “although, i’ve been sworn to secrecy on whereabouts and forbidden from helping you.”

to this, gunwook scoffs. “it’s not like he’ll know. if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same.” gunwook leans forward just a bit, voice softening but eyes still very much locked on yours. “what’s the harm in a pretty one like you helping a guy out a little?”

you try to hide how flustered you become by coughing and turning. “ah…i can’t. i’m sorry. he made me pinky swear. that’s kind of serious, you know?”

“wow,” gunwook breathes with a chuckle. “you keep getting cuter by the second. alrighty, fine. i’ll play fair. on one condition.”

you look up at him, all your features scrunching up with confusion. “i don’t…think this a situation that you can make that call…”

“it can become one quite quickly with me, i’m afraid.”

you huff in amusement at his audacity. “oh yeah? well, let’s hear your one condition.”

“i’ll need your number before i can proceed fairly. and considering i’m risking first place just to shoot my shot with you, rejection need not apply.”

god PLEASEEEE do not delete the kei socmed... it was so fun to read!

i’m not going to delete it 🫡 (even though i’m still kinda disappointed with it)!! i’m glad you liked it tho 🥰

#anon #answered

the k smau is really good its really realistic to actual jpn porn guys like that lol

ty, i just went looking for a bunch of videos to see how they tweet. i’ve never consumed so much explicit content like that in my life 😩

also…. japanese porn is so intense jfc 👀

#anon #answered

ur recent hanbin fic IS SO SCRUMPTIOUS OH MY DAYS 😻😻 I LAAAV EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED MEN X SOFT READER 🫰🫰🫰

THANKS SM!! 🫣

love next door : koga yudai

&team mlst

pairing — koga yudai x american!reader

content — smau, kind of fluff, nsfw, smut, twitter porn, basically k just wants to fuck his new neighbor

notes — i had a vision… it seemed good in my head… it did not turn out how i imagined so this honestly might get deleted later..

date night : sung hanbin

zb1 mlst

pairing — sung hanbin x f!reader

genre — domestic fluff, established relationship, slice of life

syn — going on a date with husband!hanbin and him helping you zip up the pretty dress he bought you

“my eyes are up here, you know.”

hanbin’s answering hum is soft—non-committal, dazed, distracted—focused on the sight reflected in front of him. moments like these are when you really do wish he could see himself the way you do, a smile tugging at your lips in the mirror when you look to see his expression complete entranced.

your husband’s completely, utterly, wholly, and unbelievably smitten with you. not that you minded, of course. the feeling was mutual, your love for each other unmistakable from every cheesy photobooth strip to the gentle way you soothe each other’s worries, but you’d be late to your dinner reservations if he lingered any longer.

his hands rest on the expanse of your hips and you sigh. “bin.”

“hm?”

you almost laugh.

he sounds so lost in his thoughts, probably rabbit-holing the more you stood in front of the floor length mirror.

“dinner,” you remind him, and he nods slowly, but doesn’t move an inch. “i also asked for you help to zip me up. wasn’t an invitation to ogle,”

“you married me,” he scoffs, and finally meets your eyes in the mirror to teasingly narrow his. “i think that’s perfect grounds for well deserved ogling. besides,”

hanbin presses a kiss to your shoulder at the same time he squeezes your waist, hands traveling to slowly drag the zipper up. you shiver when his fingers brush against skin, and you swear his gaze swelters a hundred degrees hotter when he catches your eyes again.

“i’ve seen you in less. still pretty with or without anything on. jury’s still out, though. think they might prefer a little less—”

your eyes widen, turning around to quickly smack his chest at his implication, and he only laughs in the face of your shock, pressing another kiss to your temple. sly jokes or not, he’s still as gentlemanly as ever, offering an arm for you to hold on before leading you towards the front door.

“now, i believe we had something like reservations to attend to,” he hums, standing still as you use him for leverage to tug your shoes on. “unless you feel like challenging the jury’s verdict.”

“reservations, sweetheart. we waited two months for this.”

do you like tws? 🤗

yes i’ve recently started getting into them!!

MAYBE I REALLY WANNA KICK IT WITH YA

#anon ask #answered #tws

Came back to reread your boxer series but the links aren’t working 😔💔

i’ve just fixed them all, happy rereading 🫶🏽

[ boxer!nct dream mini series ]

#anon ask #answered #nct dream #boxer!nct dream

need you to write more pwon 😒

the flower prank : p1harmony

p1h mlst

pairing — ot6 x f!reader

content — fluff, prank

note — here damn

「 keeho. 」

⤷

「 theo. 」

⤷

「 jiung. 」

⤷

「 intak. 」

⤷

「 soul. 」

⤷

「 jongseob. 」

⤷

after office hours : sung hanbin

zb1 mlst

pairing — sung hanbin x f!reader

content — fluff, hanbin is an idiot and down bad, matt and taerae there just for the plot, it also takes hanbin 5.7K words to confess because he’s dumb, random ass 8turn minho feature (omg i hated writing that bby like this 😖), this is very long!

syn — hanbin never thought he’d fall for his colleague.

workplace romance hasn’t been hanbin’s thing.

however, that is not to say he is immune to the flirty charms of some of his female colleagues. one-night stands are about as far as he goes in the name of commitment, though the intimacy still eludes him. he doesn’t care much about relationships and romance. he doesn’t have a soft spot for his colleagues either.

he thinks his life is complicated enough as it is. he doesn’t need to worry about someone else’s emotional baggage.

so what if he is twenty-five and his mother is going absolutely nuts trying to convince him to settle down? he is happy where he is. with his glasses perched on and a bowl of instant noodles, the only thing he has been consuming aside from black coffee for months, he is content.

that is why he doesn’t bat an eye when he is introduced to a new intern in the logistics department. during the intern’s introduction, hanbin’s eyes are trained on his phone screen, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he scrolls through the group chat. seok matthew, the hr manager—aka gossip central—is blowing up his phone, talking about the relationship between the head of the finance department and his assistant, which hanbin knows for sure is a breach of company’s guidelines.

he couldn’t be less interested in interacting with new people, especially his juniors. he leaves as soon as the introductions are over, his eyes only flickering once towards the new intern, catching a glimpse of your soft features and round, wide eyes.

he doesn’t dwell much, even if those eyes are seared into his head. he doesn’t do love. doesn’t believe in softness. he’s too awkward for that. then again, he also doesn’t believe in overtime, wearing ties, or getting emotionally attached, and yet, here he is. three for three.

it isn’t until three weeks later, during lunchtime, that hanbin sees you—the new recruit—again. he catches glimpses of you in the past few days, sure. the soft pastels of your clothes, those flowy sundresses that move past him when he’s in the café down the road for his evening coffee.

however, he isn’t expecting you to be sitting at his table—in his and his friends’ place. matthew and taerae, like always, will be five or ten minutes late.

hanbin blinks, then reluctantly makes his way over to you. confusion and frustration line his face—confusion because he doesn’t expect to see you sitting where he and his friends have been eating lunch for years, frustration because he hasn’t been able to catch a break from seeing you and now he is forced to be social against his will.

amazing, isn’t it?

“you,” is the best greeting he can offer as a cynical asshole who doesn’t know how to approach softness.

hanbin watches as your head snaps up to look at him, your eyes wide and startled. he distantly notices the homemade bento box.

“you’re in my seat,” he says dryly, his voice gruff but not unkind. his dark eyes roam over your face for a brief second, and as shameful as it is to admit, he did check you out.

your lips part, though no sound escapes you. for a few seconds, you stare at each other in awkward silence, only the chatter of other employees bustling in and out of the place keeping you aware of everyone else’s presence.

then, abruptly, you are standing up, nervously closing your lunch box. hanbin, against his will, feels guilty for scaring you.

he is about to speak, but you beat him to it, your tone flustered: “i—i’m sorry. there weren't any empty seats today.”

and true, hanbin only now notices how full the cafeteria looks today, as if everyone from the building is suddenly cooped up in one place. he can also bet his life that it has something to do with the hr department and their weekly gossip meetings in random ass places.

he pinches the bridge of his nose. now, hanbin knows he is a cynical asshole, but he isn’t a heartless bastard. besides, he couldn't let a new intern eat alone—especially not with how unfamiliar the environment could be for someone new.

“no, wait—” he starts, raising his hand as if to touch your shoulder to stop you, but he catches himself and instead gestures at the seat awkwardly. “you can sit here,” he says reluctantly.

you blink up at him as if he had asked you to worship satan—or lick an anime character figurine, which he couldn’t even dream of asking anyone to do.

“oh,” you breathe out, slowly sitting down again. hanbin notices that you are sitting on the edge of your seat, as if you are scared he’ll ask you to leave any second. “are you sure?”

a muscle in his jaw jumps when he sees you starting to stand up again. “i am sure,” he responds tightly, then takes a seat across from you. he forces himself to relax, not wanting to intimidate you more than he already has.

he places his coffee—as black as his clothes, and his self-proclaimed dark heart—and his lunch on the table, waiting for matthew and taerae. he notices something else about you—a keychain. a weird, stupid digimon keychain. he suppresses a scoff, because of course you’d have some weird quirks. a beauty like that doesn’t come with all sweetness; eccentric personality is a must.

hanbin, uninterested in watching you eat, glances towards the cafeteria door, wondering how long matthew and taerae will take. he knows your name, though he doesn’t want to interact with someone who is two years his junior.

but of course, you want to talk.

“what… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?” you ask, your voice soft, almost lost in the loud chatter.

hanbin wants to scoff. unbelievable. you don’t know him? who doesn’t know sung hanbin in this building? he is the head of editorial department, for fuck’s sake.

“hanbin. i work in the editorial department,” he responds, a hint of reluctant indulgence in his voice. he doesn’t want to tell you his occupation, so he simply skips it.

you nod, bringing a piece of chicken to your mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. hanbin’s gaze again lingers on that ugly digimon keychain, his eye twitching.

yeah, no. he hates it.

“my name’s y/n,” you say, as if hanbin hadn’t been present during your introduction. “i’m in logistics department. on the seventeenth floor.”

he bites his tongue to stop himself from uttering something rude. he knows everything you just told him. he has been working here for seven fucking years and knows the entire forty-floor building like the back of his hand.

however, as if to save him from making a fool of himself, matthew and taerae arrive, both holding their drinks and lunches. it is safe to say that neither hanbin nor his friends have had a taste of homemade food for a long time—not with their busy schedules and hectic daily lives.

as they notice you quietly munching on your homemade lunch, their eyes go round with surprise. however, matthew, ever the social butterfly, is quick to soften his expression and slide into the empty space beside you.

taerae, on the other hand, is a bit more reserved (or pretended to) as he settles beside hanbin, placing his lunch and hazelnut latte on the table.

“i’m matt!” the guy on your left chirps, effectively startling you.

hanbin watches with thinly veiled irritation. your wide eyes flick to matthew’s chopsticks frozen midair—like you’ve been caught sneaking into someone’s diary. noticing the awkwardness, taerae chimes in:

“kim taerae,” comes his junior’s nonchalant introduction. hanbin wants to scoff. the boy is acting as if he doesn’t cry watching titanic every. single. time.

despite meeting you for the first time, taerae and matthew surprisingly warm up to you faster than hanbin expected.

maybe hanbin really is emotionally constipated.

what hanbin thought would be a one-time thing with you sitting with them, turns into a daily routine. soon, you were a plus-one in their usual trio. matthew and taerae grew attached to you, and did everything they could to fill you in with the gossip.

by the second week, you were invited to their weekend movie nights. it didn’t bother hanbin, really.

he stopped being wary of you when you commented on his coffee, claiming that it would taste better if he added sugar and a little creamer. at the start of the third week, hanbin’s coffee started tasting a bit less bitter, and a little sweeter.

by the end of the third week, his kitchen cabinets were filled with your favorite snacks, your scent lingering on his couch cushions and the blanket you always wrap around yourself with during their movie nights. the start of the fourth week didn’t bring anything new, aside from hanbin becoming your reluctant driver. ever since he found out where you lived, he knew he couldn’t let you go alone—not with how shady your neighborhood is. though, it was expected that you’d live somewhere like this, considering that you are a young graduate who started working less than three months ago.

again, your scent lingers inside his car, clinging to the leather seats. even when another woman sits in his car, your sickly perfume can’t mask your scent.

it is like you have fucking imprinted yourself on him, and hanbin is helplessly drawn to you against his will. you were like a calm to his chaotic thoughts and awkwardness.

he finds himself smiling at your texts. his usually bitter coffee is slowly being replaced by your favorite drinks. when matthew commented about your homemade bento and expressed his desire for a home-cooked meal, there were three extra lunchboxes on their table the very next day.

against his will, hanbin’s walls soften around you, melting like they were never carved out of stone.

“this is my pet,” you say, pointing towards a small… plant? of course, hanbin knew you were eccentric.

it’s week six of… whatever the hell this is. friendship? closeness? emotional sabotage? hanbin is sitting in your small, cozy apartment, his back leaning against the side of your bed.

for someone who lives in a thirty-story high-rise apartment building, your place is surprisingly well-kept, and your neighbors are nice—a detail hanbin couldn’t relate to. he lives in a condo, and his neighbors are stuck-up pricks at best.

his neighbor’s dog also pisses on his doormat because the dumb bitch just could.

in three months, he knew about you more than he should. you are eccentric. beneath those shy eyes, you are a fierce, sharp-tongued brat.

if he thought being your senior would earn him respect, he was terribly, terribly fucking mistaken. your sharp, out-of-pocket responses often leave him gaping. though taerae and matthew absolutely worship you and your homemade lunchboxes.

hanbin couldn’t believe those two dropped their loyalty to him because of your cooking.

traitors. he should’ve known his friends could be swayed by very little.

now, there are so many things he knows about you:

• you have a three "headed" pet cactus named dugtrio. best part is that it started as a single "head” called diglett. hanbin was admittedly impressed about the obvious reason to change its name. • you have a massive sweet tooth. • you cry during titanic, too. • you have a knack for collecting those creepy anime figurines and ridiculously large band t-shirts. • your favorite food is gyudon. • your favorite dresses to wear during summer are floral-print sundresses. • you love going on picnics. • you hate winter because you catch colds easily. • you are afraid of bugs. • you like three pumps of hazelnut in your coffee.

simple enough, except it is not. not for someone like hanbin, who is so used to preserving his peace and running away from getting deeply attached.

it’s another day at the office when hanbin sees you walking towards the elevators, your bag slung over your shoulder. you are wearing a white sundress with blue floral prints. the fabric looks light and soft, and the way it wraps around your body makes hanbin’s fingers itch.

now, he wouldn’t mind being holed up inside an elevator with you. he never takes the elevator with you—not when it’s only the two of you. however, he saw one of his colleagues—yang minho—and he knew he couldn’t let you deal with that guy’s strangeness alone.

he wasn’t a bad guy, but hanbin definitely does not want his grubby hands to even brush against you. so, he fastens his pace, slipping an arm between the elevator doors to stop them from closing.

thank god the doors didn’t close on his fucking arm. the last thing he needed was to have a witness while he loses his dignity.

he notices how your eyes widen before the corners of your lips curve into a bright smile. and, as shameful as it is to admit, hanbin couldn’t deny he had started developing a strange fondness for you.

“morning,” he grumbles, the back of his neck feeling far too hot for his liking.

beside him, you chirp out your greeting, “morning, hanbin!”

hanbin huffs, pressing the button for the seventeenth and thirty-first floors. from across him, minho offers him a sly smile, as if he knows something hanbin doesn’t.

“hanbin, how’s your hand?” your voice, tinged with barely hidden concern, pulls him out of his thoughts.

“hm?” he leans down slightly, brows furrowed in confusion before he realizes what you’re asking about. his hand—the one he burned after arrogantly claiming that he could cook—makes his ears turn red as the memory of him embarrassing himself in front of you surfaces.

“i—it’s fine,” he responds, tugging at his tie to loosen it a little.

fuck, the accident wasn’t his fault. it had been completely yours. you were standing too close, the scent of your shampoo and sweet perfume was too distracting. then you had to go ahead and touch him, albeit innocently, but it had been enough to rattle his entire system.

hanbin truly hates the way you affect him. he couldn’t even remember when it started, but one day you were all around him. under his skin, on his couch, in his car—you’re choking him. you’ve had him in a chokehold since the day he saw you; he was just too much of an idiot to notice until it was too late.

as hanbin leans against the wall of the elevator, he feels your shoulder brushing against his arm. he is far too aware of your presence, his senses heightened by your proximity. but he doesn’t get to dwell on those straying thoughts when the doors of the elevator open on the sixth floor, and dozens of people enter.

hanbin and you are pushed to the very back, and minho ends up right in front of you. usually, he wouldn’t care for anyone else if they were being cornered in a crowded elevator. but it isn’t anyone else—it’s you. so, before minho’s filthy hands can touch you, excused as an accident, hanbin slips between them, pushing you further against the cool wall of the elevator.

his arm comes to rest above your head to keep himself from pressing his entire weight against you. hanbin watches you flinch, your speech stuttering, eyes wide like a fawn’s. he doesn’t comment, simply leaning his head down until his forehead presses against the crown of your head. the scent of your shampoo wafts in the air—sweet and floral, like meadows bathed in sunlight.

he sighs, his hand balled into a tight fist. god damn you, why do you have to make him feel like this? three months is not enough time to fall for someone—not for someone like him.

someone who doesn’t deserve this kind of sweetness in his life. and that thought terrifies him. he is unfamiliar with this sort of intimacy, where touch isn’t even required. just silent understanding and a presence that is too stubborn to move.

“you,” he breathes out, voice low enough only for you to hear, “what are you doing to me?”

it was a rhetorical question. hanbin knows exactly what you’re doing to him, even if you claim not to understand your effect on him.

it’s the alien intimacy, the urge to just… just be with you that terrifies him.

hanbin is used to fast-paced scenes. he’s used to bodies tangled in fleeting passion, quick and forgettable. he’s used to attraction, release as per his body’s need. but what he isn’t used to is gentleness. this foreign sweetness—that is so you.

you don’t make him want to take you to his bed. no. you make him want to just look at you, to understand you, be with you without touching you, as if you are a piece of art he’d ruin with a single hand.

he’s never cared to learn someone’s smallest quirks. never noticed how anyone speaks, or if they pause mid-sentence when they’re shy. but you? he memorizes everything. but here he is—doing everything he never saw himself doing. if someone told him that he’d fall for someone like you, he’d have punched them before asking the source of their nonsense.

“i…i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper, your voice so quiet and soft, and hanbin wants…

he could feel the warmth of your body, soft against the hard planes of his muscles, the gentle caress of your breath against his neck.

god fucking damn it.

“fuck it—” just as hanbin is about to do something reckless, like kiss you or lay his heart bare in a fucking elevator of all places, their small bubble is rudely popped by someone.

…yang fucking minho.

and then—minho taps his ass, as if that piece of shit hadn’t realized it’s hanbin he’s touching.

a goddamn cockblock. but hanbin is glad minho did that; otherwise, he’d have confessed in an elevator like some lovesick fool. or worse.

annoyed, hanbin pushes himself away from you, though the cramped space doesn’t allow him to go far. reaching behind, he grabs minho’s hand, a disappointing sigh leaving his lips.

“that’s my ass you’re touching,” hanbin deadpans, and suddenly the entire elevator falls dead silent. he slaps his hand away, rolling his eyes. “learn the difference between a man’s and a woman’s butt.”

minho’s face turns red in an instant, his eyes widening in horror as if he has now come to an abhorrent realization.

you, on the other hand, are still pressed against the elevator wall, your shoulders trembling as if the moment a few seconds ago never happened.

“s—sir!” minho sputters as the doors slide open on the seventeenth floor.

hanbin’s gaze flickers over to you, and he tilts his head to the side, gesturing for you to get out. you offer him a smile that’s far too cheerful for hanbin’s mood, but he doesn’t say anything and nods in acknowledgment. as you move past him, your hand brushes over the underside of his wrist. he knows it’s not an accident—he saw the way your fingers hesitated before making contact with his skin.

however, that doesn’t stop him from feeling his skin burn from that single touch. as you step out of the elevator and the doors close behind you, he is left to stare at the empty space, while a flustered minho stammers out apologies.

oh, what a fucking day.

as he gets off on the thirty-first floor, minho follows him like an obedient puppy, his dark hair only making the flush on his ears and cheeks stand out more. hanbin stops mid-step, and minho nearly crashes into his back.

“next time i see you pulling things like that,” hanbin starts, turning to face minho with a disapproving scowl, “i’ll put you through a door, understood?”

minho nods, keeping his head down to avoid hanbin’s hard gaze. the day hasn’t even started, and hanbin feels a headache growing just behind his eyes.

sighing, he rubs his forehead. “if you understand, then go finish your article and bring it to my office, okay?”

another nod, and minho scrambles like his ass is on fire.

hanbin watches him for a second, then turns to walk over to the huge glass windows, the city skyline as alive as ever. grey clouds move over the city like a blanket of smoke, and he wonders if it’ll rain. all he knows is that this is going to be a long, torturous day.

true to his speculation, hanbin never got the chance to have his lunch. matthew, taerae, and you texted him, but he hadn’t responded. some files and progress reports on the company’s products were missing, and despite it not being entirely hanbin’s responsibility, he knew the chief operating officer would come after his ass because he’s the head of the editorial department.

it’s close to six in the evening when he gets a text from matthew—a simple invitation: movie night at your place. hanbin pinches the bridge of his nose, grabs his coat from the small couch pushed against the wall beside the large windows, and leaves his office.

his fingers move across his keyboard, typing a message—not for matthew, but you. it sounds more like an order when hanbin sends it: meet me at the parking lot. we’re leaving together.

hanbin passes a very focused yang minho on his way to the elevator, who, upon seeing him, stands up hastily, almost knocking over his chair.

“sir—!” hanbin pauses, looking over his shoulder toward minho and raising a single, questioning eyebrow. “i arranged the files and informed our team to be ready for a presentation tomorrow!”

by the way minho is speaking—like a trained soldier—hanbin half expects him to throw a salute. instead of responding verbally, hanbin nods, amusement flashing in his dark eyes.

“you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” hanbin drawls, pressing the button for the elevator. his amusement mounts as minho grows visibly flustered and turns back around to fix his table nervously. shaking his head, hanbin looks back at the small screen as he waits. after a few seconds of silence, he adds, “you can take a day off, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother looking back at the flustered boy as the elevator doors slide open. hanbin steps inside and presses the button for the ground floor. he distantly catches a loud, albeit nervous, “really?!” as the doors close.

hanbin will have to text minho later to assure him. in all honesty, he only took minho in his team because the boy is easy to rile up. he is perhaps the same age as you, which really explains his efforts to make friends with you. hanbin just hopes he won’t pull anything weird, or he’d have to fire his ass.

as the elevator descends, hanbin slumps against the wall, exhausted, his head hanging low. the stiffness in his back nags at him—subtle but irritating. for someone used to standing strong—or at least pretending to—he’s been feeling a little too vulnerable lately. it’s a weakness he wouldn’t dare admit to himself, let alone anyone else.

the elevator halts at the ground floor with a soft ding, and hanbin steps out. his eyes scan the underground parking lot, searching for any sign of you. it doesn’t take him long to find you. you’re standing right in front of his black honda civic type-r, your hair pulled up, skin slightly dewy under the dim lights.

an irrational thought slips into his head, whispering a compliment he doesn’t dare to voice.

you’re ethereal. especially in that damned sundress.

you notice him before he can even speak, your gaze lifting to meet his as his footsteps falter to a stop in front of you.

“oh,” the word leaves your lips in a soft breath, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of your mouth—sweet, yet knowing. it makes something twist deep in his chest. “you’re here.”

it’s a simple acknowledgment, but it lands heavier than it should. there’s something beneath it—a warmth, a familiarity—that coils through the silence between you. hanbin’s chest tightens, not from unease but from that slow, maddening spark that always seems to ignite when you’re near.

“yeah,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, adam’s apple dipping as he swallows hard. his eyes don’t leave yours. “i’m here.”

his gaze flickers away from you, a stubborn heat creeping up his neck. being this close feels too intimate, too much for his non-committing self.

hanbin steps back, tilting his head toward the car. “let’s go,” he mutters, clearing his throat with forced casualness. he hesitates for a heartbeat before moving to open the passenger door for you. his dark eyes catch a small, nearly invisible scratch on his car; his ears burn red with embarrassment.

fuck, why can’t he act normal?

once you slide inside, hanbin shuts the door gently and rounds the car to slip behind the wheel.

clicking his seatbelt into place, he starts the engine and glances at you. “do you need anything before we head home?” he asks, pulling the car out of the parking lot and onto the bustling night streets.

you hum thoughtfully, eyes flickering to the passing scenery, the city lights passing by in a fluorescent blur. “would you mind if we make a small stop at the bakery?” you turn to look back at him, and for a brief second, you think you saw his grip tightening around the steering wheel, leather creaking under his fingers.

after a second, he exhales, then shakes his head. “not at all,” he responds.

the drive to the bakery takes less than five minutes, the silence inside the car interrupted by the screeching of tires. hanbin gets out first, rounds the car to open your door before your fingers can even brush the handle. it startles you, but you step out with a warmth creeping on your cheeks.

inside the bakery, it’s warm. the sound of ceramic dishes clinking together fills the air, an old, eighties song playing over the brown radio placed on a wooden rack. the scent of sweets hits you as soon as you step inside, hanbin hovering behind you closely. he guides you towards the counter, a hand resting comfortably on the small of your back.

as you busy yourself with choosing the pastries, hanbin merely watches you, his expression soft. the exhaustion from earlier melted into something tender—adoration, and a sense of unease. he knows he shouldn’t feel stupidly jealous when someone tries to hit on you. you two weren’t even dating. hell, you probably don’t even like him like that, but fuck it—the second he saw a sleazy dude standing a little too close to comfort and murmuring something, he acted before thinking, and in a blink, he is squeezing into the small space between you and that guy, his back facing you as he glares at the dude. “she’s fine,” he grumbles, eyes narrowing, “you might wanna step back.”

that sleazy guy glared at him in return, but stepped back nonetheless. as the guy leaves, hanbin’s shoulders slump a little. he turns to look at you, his heart giving a treacherous leap when he finds you staring back at him.

“he…he didn’t touch you, right?” he asks, feeling his face heating up a little. you only offer him a nod, lips curving in a soft smile before you turn to place your order. when your order was packed, hanbin paid for it, claiming that it’d be his treat.

the drive back to your place is mostly silent—disturbed only by the song playing on the radio and your occasional humming. hanbin keeps stealing glances at you, his body relaxed and expressions serene. he almost forgets when was the last time he felt so…calm in someone else’s presence.

once in your apartment, you change into something comfortable—a loose t-shirt and cotton shorts. when you walk into the living room, you find hanbin taking out the snacks and blankets.

a text from taerae lit your phone, reading: we’ll be a little late. matt’s girlfriend is throwing a fit. literally.

you respond with a simple reassurance. you’ve met his girlfriend once, and she’s extremely kind—though she keeps matthew on his toes. she has joined you for movie nights, even offered to arrange them at her place, but her schedule leaves her little to no time.

“taerae said they’d be a little late,” you tell hanbin, walking over to help him puff up the pillows.

hanbin offers you a small nod of acknowledgment. his tie is already loose, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, suit jacket hung neatly on the hanger as if it’s always belonged there. the two of you move around the kitchen, preparing snacks and a light dinner in easy silence.

under the butterscotch glow of the kitchen light, you’re plating kimbap rolls while hanbin arranges the desserts. the quiet stretches until you speak, voice low and teasing.

“you were weirdly heroic,” you say, noticing the subtle clench of his jaw, the twitch of a muscle in his cheek. “back at the bakery, y’know?”

“are you sick, hanbin?” taerae asks, and from the corner of his eye, hanbin notices you turn to look at him too. “your face is all red.”

before he can respond, matthew’s girlfriend chimes in from where she’s perched on his lap. “he’s probably frying in shame. you know how easily he embarrasses himself.”

hanbin bristles, narrowing his eyes at her.

she giggles, slumping further into matthew’s hold. she’s like a wildcat, and hanbin can’t help but wonder what matthew even sees in her.

as the room quiets, broken only by the movie’s dialogue, hanbin shifts closer to you—subtly. or at least, he tries to be subtle. his hand brushes against yours, and for the first time, he doesn’t pull away. instead, he threads his fingers through yours, holding on softly but sure.

hours slip by, the laughter fading until the room is bathed in the pale glow of the ending credits. hanbin leans back against the couch, eyelids heavy, but when you glance over, his gaze is already on you.

the silence between you feels different now—not tense or uncertain, but easy, full of something neither of you can name.

your friends are already half-asleep—taerae curled up in a fetal position with a baby blue blanket wrapped around him, while matthew and his girlfriend are doze off, tangled together on the couch.

you rise from the floor, gathering empty dishes and snack wrappers to carry into the kitchen. hanbin stays behind for a moment, pulling a blanket over matthew and his girlfriend, ever aware of his friend’s fragile immune system. then he joins you.

neither of you speak as you work side by side—you washing the dishes, him drying and stacking them neatly on the rack. the silence is comfortable, filled only with the low hum of the tv and the distant sounds of the night city.

“about earlier,” you say quietly, and you can feel him tense beside you.

the dish slips a little in your soapy hands; you rinse it, setting it gently on the rack before looking over at him. hanbin’s still holding the towel, frozen mid-motion, eyes fixed on the sink as if it can save him.

you take a small breath, voice barely above a whisper. “i like you too, if you’ve been wondering.”

he blinks, shoulders relaxing as the words sink in. the corner of his mouth curves up slowly, almost shyly, before a soft laugh leaves him—relieved and disbelieving. he sets the towel down and leans against the counter, watching you with that boyish grin you haven’t seen in a while.

“yeah?” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. “then maybe i can finally ask—go out with me? a real date this time. a picnic and dinner, not just takeout and friends.”

you smile, the warmth of his words sinking deep. “i’d like that.”

for a moment, neither of you move. the city hums beyond the window, the faint flicker of the tv painting both your faces in blue light. hanbin lets out a quiet sigh and reaches over to wipe soap that had somehow managed to get on your cheek.

“saturday, then,” he says, voice low and certain.

you nod, heart light. “saturday.”

he lingers a little longer before stepping back, turning off the kitchen light. the two of you head toward the living room, the soft glow of the screen guiding your way. taerae’s already snoring, matthew and his girlfriend murmuring in their sleep, the smell of butter and sugar still hanging in the air.

as you settle down to sleep in the living room, surrounded by the people you’ve come to cherish, you couldn’t help the smile curving on your lips. it’s idiotic at best, but you couldn’t help it—and by the looks of it, neither can he.

when you fall asleep, huddled by the foot of the couch, hanbin’s hand finds yours under the blanket. before you could fully go out, you feel the warmth of his lips on your temple.

how soobin and yeonjun handle their (shared) bratty!gf : txt

txt mlst

pairing — choi soobin x f!reader x choi yeonjun

warnings — sfw and nsfw portions, brat tamer!soobin and yeonjun + spoiled and bratty reader

note — this is ass <3

「 sfw. 」

⤷ soobin acts all tough but oh my god the minute you start getting an attitude about not wanting to go somewhere, like out for dinner or something, he FOLDSSSSS so bad!!!

"okay, that's fine, bunny. we can stay home." he'll say with an exasperated sigh and yeonjun just glares at him for being so easily swayed. soobin will dismiss yeonjun’s look of disapproval and cuddle with you on the couch and assure you that you made the right choice.

yeonjun, on the other hand, practices a far more firm approach when it comes to you. so, when soobin gives in, he will simply put his foot down.

"i just bought you a whole new outfit for tonight and now you don't wanna go? is that what you're telling me right now? you wanna be ungrateful?" he asks, rhetorically and dry, which usually works on you. if it doesn't, he'll scoff and grab his keys as if he's leaving without you, which results in you quickly stopping him.

frankly, soobin is more scared of how you'll react if you don't get your way, so he tries to be as agreeable as possible...especially when it comes to shopping. poor soobin’s pockets HURT when he takes you out.

"i thought you said i could get them all, soobin." you'll pout, giving him glassy doe-eyes as you stand in front of the wall of pink lacy bras, each retailing for 60-80 dollars. and, yes, you wanting every single one on that wall. "yes, bunny. we'll get them all, don't worry." he assures, pulling out his wallet as your pretty smile goes wide.

when you and yeonjun are shopping and you get greedy, he'll barter with you.

"okay, sweetheart, i'll get you the shoes but you gotta lose that attitude before we get to the cartier store. got it?" he'll say sternly, looking down at you as you sit on a velvet bench, trying on the miu miu ballet flats with a full lip between your teeth.

「 nsfw. 」

⤷ when soobin is eating you out, you'll buck your hips and squirm, despite his deliberate orders to stay still. he's all talk, though.

"bunny, what did i say, hm? gotta stay still....stay still for me. be good or else." he'll whisper, holding your thighs down, but never firm enough to actually stop you from doing anything. if he does actually threaten you, it's quickly forgotten when you get on top of him or go face down, ass up. "oh, so now you want to be good?"

when yeonjun is eating you out, he takes absolutely no defiance whatsoever and he's mean.

"did i say you could fucking move, sweetheart?" he says, pushing your thighs down harshly against the mattress. "i’m sorry, junnie..." you whine, pretending to act innocent. "no you're fucking not, don't lie to me." he chuckles darkly, leaving your heat and crawling up to hover over you. you'll giggle and say under your breath, "....you're right, i'm not..." but he hears you. he'll tug your bow necklace so you're noses are touching, "you're gonna wish you were, though."

when you're getting impatient in bed, soobin is the type to punish you with actions rather than words.

"this is taking too long, hurry up…" you huff as he kisses your neck from beneath you. to those words in such a bratty tone, he'll quickly flip the both of you so you're now underneath him. you pant out, thinking that's where he'll stop. you give him a sly smirk, but then soobin will click his tongue, "you shouldn’t be so impatient, now flip over." he'll rasp. you hesitate, trying to defy him, but he'll take your hips and flip you over himself so your ass meets his groin. his grip is so tight, surely bruises form. you open your mouth to say something sour, but he'll swat your ass so hard, you're rendered speechless.

when you're getting impatient with yeonjun in bed, he'll match your attitude and double it.

"oh, i'm taking too long, princess?" yeonjun asks, mockingly. "you heard me." you retort out through muffled whimpers from his lips on your abdomen. yeonjun will scoff, "yeah, i did.... sounds like a fucking brat." "only because you're making me one." you say with faux nonchalance, but your heart beat quickens with anticipation. he crawls up higher and grabs you by the chin roughly, "no, i think you got that smart mouth all on your own, sweetheart."

you love iced americano and he just wants attention : lee haechan

nct dream mlst

pairing — lee haechan x f!reader

genre — fluff, college au, making out

donghyuck can be fun to hang out with. no doubt. you love spending time with him. he’s funny and very entertaining at any time of day. but, sometimes, you need your silence and peace to do other stuff. such as… studying. something donghyuck doesn’t really do and makes it impossible for you to do.

you’ve tried studying in the same room with him. those times were days whether you two studied together or you studied on your own while he played video games. or at least, you were supposed to do so. because he cannot, in any way, sit still for more than twenty minutes straight, which means that you have to suffer with his hyperactive self.

that’s why you started studying in the campus’ library. that gave you a space where it would be silent and donghyuck would be forced to focus, so he can’t exactly make noise without having a book almost thrown at his head by the librarian.

you write down in your notebook the important topics discussed in today’s lecture and as you’re about to highlight it, the lingering eyes burning into the side of your face made you snap awake from your concentrated state.

today in particular, it was extremely hard for donghyuck to focus on what you were saying. he just focused on distracting himself with you, his cheek rested on his hand as he studied every little detail of your face.

he’s quiet at least, but his staring is still able to snap you away from your studying mindset.

“you look cute, today.” he says, barely above a whisper.

“thank you.” you replied quickly and quieter.

the sudden compliment warms your body and you, a little caught off guard, stare back at your book as your way to fight your emotions.

a small smile appears on his face as he notices how hard you’re trying to avoid looking his way.

he wondered for a moment if you got all dolled up today for him. he swallowed thickly, the sweet fragrance you wore furthering his distraction as he bites back a feeble moan. he can’t stop himself from specific fantasies. fantasies of what you taste like.

donghyuck started to realize a couple weeks ago that whenever he spotted you, you had your iced americano right at your side and the way your pretty lips wrapped around the straw every few minutes just made him want to bite on them. wanted to taste the sweetness of your drink from your mouth and get lost into you. he thinks you’ll taste as addicting as anyone ever could, simply because it’s you, and you’ve never been one to disappoint in the slightest.

“hyuck.” you whisper in a scolding tone.

“hm?”

“stop that.”

your eyes go over to him as he leaned back in his chair and he has a smile on his face.

“stop what?”

“stop staring at me. it's distracting.” you tell him, “if you’re not going to study with me then at least read a book or something.”

his smile falls ever so slightly and he gives you a strong nod, almost as if telling you an ‘okay’ and a ‘sorry’ at the same time.

there’s a moment of silence between you two. you let your eyes go back to your notes and in the corner of your eye, you see him scoot backwards in his chair and stand up. you don’t look up or even care enough to think much of it since you assumed he was going to do what you told him to.

“help me find a book?” donghyuck asks in, what he calls, a whisper.

donghyuck does not know how to whisper. that is a true fact. you don’t even know how you haven’t been kicked out of the library just by him talking.

“if i do, you’re going to let me study, right?” you ask him, eyebrows lifted.

“of course, babe. don’t i always?”

he knows he’s annoying you, yet he also knows that you love him too much to ever tell him to back off or to go away.

you sigh, taking his hand when he reached out for yours, and pulled him through the aisle.

while you’re genuinely searching for books that you thought he’d might actually be interested in, donghyuck can’t fight back the sneaky smile on his face. you were thinking about what would keep him busy for the next hour or so, and he was thinking about your espresso.

he blinks himself back into reality, rips his hungry gaze from your lips, plastering it onto the bookshelf behind you instead, his eyes landing on the spine of random novel shoved haphazardly between the others. atomic habits. a book about perseverance and self-control. how ironic.

“…so what do you think?” you were holding a poetry book in your hands. a star beyond the starlight.

he opens his mouth, ready to accept the book and just finally give you a break to study like you wanted. but then he closes it. he closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. as he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs. trapped between him and the bookshelf.

but you don’t fight him right away. you know you should. you know you should push him off and berate him. yet you let him kiss you. and you kiss him back as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way. the only sound being heard in the library is your heavy breathing, the smacking of your lips, and an awkward cough from someone on the other side of shelves.

donghyuck is literally devouring your mouth, tongue licking every corner and teeth tugging relentlessly at both of your lips. and it’s when you finally realize that he is on a mission to completely maul your mouth because every time you try to talk or simply catch your breath for a few seconds, he keeps nipping and licking around your mouth, jaw, even your goddamn neck!! he refuses to let you formulate a single word, making sure to interrupt any attempt and reduce you to a whiny, whimpering mess..

you try to break the kiss again, feeling like your lungs will explode if you don't take a moment to breathe properly. you manage to peel yourself off hyuck’s mouth and you deeply inhale while looking up, pressing your almost numb lips together. you hear hyuck grunting and feel one of his hands making its way up, grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head down.

he pushes his tongue along with yours, releasing your nape only to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you closer— tighter against his body as humanly possible. your hands are holding donghyuck’s shoulders in a vice grip, feet rising off of the ground to the tip of your toes.

he was showing no signs of ending this session anytime soon and you are getting frustrated with every passing second, needing a moment to completely catch your breath. you’ve tried tapping out with your fists against his chest, he doesn’t even flinch when you bite down on his bottom lip. you can feel hyuck smiling while doing that damn grunting sound only he can make from the back of his throat and feeling the vibrations right into your mouth is enough to make you spiral even more.

“just a little longer,” donghyuck speaks, mouth still clasped over yours. but you’re spent. and in a final attempt to end this, you bring your hand up and pull at his hair hard enough to tilt his head back, making him wince, “ow- ow- ow!”

you just look at each other, taking your disheveled appearances in. your eyes have cleared up, no longer out of focus and your mouth is slowly pulling into a pout.

"what?" he asks while laughing. your eyebrows furrow then and you lightly slap his chest before bringing your hand and running the tips of your finger along your now swollen lips.

“don’t what me. just what do you think you’re doing, hyuck?” he holds back the laughter bubbling in his chest, knowing that if he laughs in your face right now he'll probably never get another chance like this again.

“i’m sorry. i couldn’t help myself.” you scoff incredulously. “but…” he looks around, a teasing smirk is creeping up on his equally swollen lips, “there’s no one back here. we can just do this.”

"you've abused my mouth enough.” you smack his hands away as he steps closer to you. “look, study with me or don’t. i don’t care anymore.” you shove the poetry book against his chest and leave him standing alone in the aisle.

you get back to your table and it doesn’t take long before he returns to you as well. you glare at him as soon as he’s reaching his seat empty handed. there’s a small smile on his face that he’s trying to pass off as innocent but you refuse to fall for it, deciding to ignore him and find where you’ve left off in your books.

“y/nnn…” donghyuck whines out your name loud enough to make you flinch and other students shushing him scatter through the air. “i don't like when you’re angry at me.”

“not angry. just annoyed.” you mumbled.

“come on, you need breaks throughout your studying and i need attention. it’s a win-win situation.” he explains and you take a deep breath. but you knew you had to come to some sort of agreement.

“sure.” you gave in.

“then i will finally study.” he gives you a sudden peck on the lips almost as his way to finalize his sentence and pulls your chair closer to his own.

both of donghyuck’s arms wrap around your torso, his chin is resting on your shoulder and he’s looking down at your study book. you give him a glare, making him smile, surely entertained.

he was right. you do taste addicting. and if it were up to him, if you’d just let him have his way, he’d drag you to the back of the library, hidden behind the farthest shelves, and study your lips some more instead.

them in different nsfw careers : &team

&team mlst

pairing — ot9

genre — sort of college!au

warnings — nsfw, smut, porn, dom/sub, fetishes

「 ej. 」

onlyfans creator.

⤷ solos of him masturbating or nudes.

⤷ weirdly artistic?

⤷ like camera angles on point, edited to perfection, color graded.

⤷ rarely, if ever, collabs with others.

⤷ occasionally posts erotic photography of one unidentifiable woman.

⤷ his subscribers aren't sure what to make of it but pictures of them together are some of his best work.

⤷ daylights as a photographer and has some of his work in small galleries across the city.

「 fuma. 」

dungeon dom (IDK).

⤷ the kind thats a look don't touch dom.

⤷ if you need a session to work through your stress, go to him.

⤷ sexy spanking, punishment spanking, therapy spanking.

⤷ he's got the knowledge and know how.

⤷ has a strange collection of vintage dvds and magazines.

⤷ rare stuff that he treats like art rather than smut.

⤷ fuma i never want to speak on your name i'm sorry…

「 k. 」

amateur porn star.

⤷ makes homemade couple porn or something with a close friend.

⤷ domestic/bf vibes in every video.

⤷ very soft with each other even when they're having rough sex.

⤷ people assume they're actually dating because of the insane chemistry even though they never show their faces.

⤷ its his fun dirty little secret no one else really knows.

「 nicholas. 」

boyfriend for hire.

⤷ specializes in "turn your brain off for the night, i'll handle it."

⤷ rent him to be your date to an event or just for a night on the town.

⤷ doesn't always sleep with his client (his discretion) but usually cuddles and will spend the night.

⤷ just trying to pay off his student loans since being an analyst pays shit.

⤷ big nico because he has a big... you know?

⤷ and loves hearing the women he sleeps with rave about it.

⤷ has had several repeat customers and older women that recommend him to their friends.

「 yuma. 」

audio erotica.

⤷ just a side hobby for him.

⤷ tbh 9/10 times forgets to record or that he even has the account.

⤷ started because a girl he was seeing freshman year of college told him she wanted a video with the sound on and he didn't know what that meant but she liked his voice enough to let the completely black screen slide.

⤷ posts sporadically but always makes waves when he does.

⤷ people have offered him money for custom audios and he always turns them down.

「 jo. 」

nsfw artist.

⤷ ironically he’s a sfw artist that just loves drawing nsfw.

⤷ sketches, 3d hentai, sfx (would sometimes collab with yuma), it’s soooo fun.

⤷ started because a girl who once modeled nude for his art class at his college said he captured her the best so she inspired his oc.

⤷ he’s super popular on twitter, gets lots of donations and commissions.

⤷ multiple girls are lined up to either be his model or voice actress.

「 harua. 」

cam boy brat.

⤷ sugars on the side.

⤷ likes being degraded by his audience when he's bad.

⤷ lover of milfs (and dilfs), and has a sugar mommy he sees once a month.

⤷ loves being wined and dined by her and then loved on at her fancy apartment uptown.

⤷ started doing both in college to pay rent, but now keeps it up because the extra cash is nice.

⤷ enamored with taking pictures during sex. has a collection of polaroids with his current FWB that he cherishes more than anything (always carries one in his phone case).

⤷ toyed with the idea of having her come on his streams but he doesn't want to share.

⤷ he should probably look into that more.

「 taki. 」

fetish model.

⤷ shibari, leather, latex.

⤷ you name it, he's most likely modeled it.

⤷ has portrait of himself (unrecognizable, facing away just his back criss crossed with ropes, hands bound at the base of his spine) hanging in his apartment.

⤷ his friends think its weird since they know he's the one in the picture but most of the girls he brings home just think he's into some freaky stuff.

⤷ people assume he likes really kinky sex because of his job but he prefers vanilla sex most of the time because his job is so kink heavy.

⤷ also often sends jo different poses to use for his artwork

「 maki. 」

nsfw twitter creator.

⤷ videos, pictures, sliding into dms.

⤷ maki does it all and enjoys the comments of people thirsting over him.

⤷ even if he's one dick among thousands.

⤷ for his day job he works in a sex store and flirts with the exotic dancers who come in to buy their costumes (turned down every single time, there's even a pool for how quickly he'll strike out).

⤷ the one girl that flirted back still lives in his brain rent free because all she did was smile and he folded like origami.

⤷ now when she comes in maki has to remind himself not to drool.

perfect places : seok matthew

zb1 mlst

pairing — spiderman!matthew x mj!reader (ex!jiwoong-harry osborn-like)

genre — fluff, developing relationship, light angst

syn — chinese food on the clock tower makes an unconventional but romantic dinner

your eyes are shut tightly against the blustering, chilly wind that whipped against your body and roared in your ears; arms wound around his neck, legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s waist as you both catapult through the air. you felt a sort of sadistic rush that came with being so high up in the air with no real support to keep you from plummeting to your death, although it’s softened by your unshakable trust in the boy that has you suspended above the city.

you both finally hit a solid surface and matthew’s lowering you to your feet, his hands still supporting your wobbly legs. although feeling a little disoriented, you were able to register the giant face and hands of the clock looming above you— you instinctively knew it was the historic manhattan clock tower. you looked down and noticed the blanket laid out and adorned with a single candle stick, a bottle of wine, and several cartons of chinese food from your favorite place.

“i know it's not a fancy dinner in manhattan”, matt said sheepishly, taking off his spider-man mask. “but it’s got culture, a nice view, and the best chinese food.”

you thought back to the time when you dated jiwoong. he’d drive you around in the nicest cars, take you to eat at the most expensive places, and gift you jewelry. it was fun at first and you’d certainly basked in the attention, but to your surprise the novelty had worn off fairly quickly. before long you started to feel more like an ornament than a person, something pretty to be shown off—something to be seen rather than heard.

you distinctly remembered sitting at a luxurious restaurant with white tablecloths, in your best dress with your hair and make up perfectly done. jiwoong seated in front of you, poorly feigning interest and too busy answering a text to even notice that you had stopped talking. you’d never felt more ugly or unlovable in your life than in that moment.

matthew looks at you with an attentiveness that made you feel like the most important person in the world. he couldn’t afford to take you to expensive restaurants or buy you expensive gifts but he took you to places that were off limits to the rest of society. you got to experience the beauty of a sunset from atop one of the highest buildings, or run your fingers across the stone structure of a gargoyle. you were able to sit up there overlooking the crowded city filled with countless people going about their lives without ever once leaving the ground.

“it’s perfect”, you told him, and a look of relief washes over him.

sitting cross-legged with lips covered in sauce, you’ve never felt more beautiful or lovable than you do in that moment across from the most spectacular human being alive.

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