BANGBANGBANG

𝑰 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑭𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑶𝑵

[lissyloo1]

MASTERLIST ---- <3

Hiii - this is my masterlist so things are easy to find. I'll update this every time I post something<3

Things I do/do not do

🦝🦝 -- Pinterest Links

🌙 🔮 🖇 💽 🍙 🍥 🎸 🎧 🏑

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐌𝐕 -- <𝟑

🎱🎱 -- Song Links

Lover You Should've Come Over

The Man Who Can't Be Moved

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑺 ---- 🎼 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐎 ---- 🧋 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎 ---- 🪼

Kpop:

Cortis

Stray Kids

Ateez

Enhypen

Bigbang

P1harmony

Txt

Anime:

Demon slayer

Jujitsu Kaisen

Naruto

Haikyu

K-drama:

Weak Hero

[lissyloo1]

EVERY GIRL DESERVES TO HAVE HER EXPLORATION ----<3

Synopsis: The school prom was just around the corner and you were too busy with your class presidency to take notice of a certain somebody trying to ask you out

Pairings: student!Jiung x Fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, swearing, Other members of p1h are mentioned, Members of Illit mentioned, Jiung is the classic loud wannabe rockstar.

An: GENUINELY the most ass thing I've ever done

Masterlist

REQS OPEN

"When will you ever stop taking school so seriously?" Yunah asked, her voice laced with a plea that tugged at the edges of your resolve. The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with unspoken desires for a life less consumed by textbooks and exams.

"School is everything to me," you responded, your gaze fixed on the fortress of books sprawled across your desk. Each page, each chapter, was a step toward a future you desperately sought to control. "If I don't get good grades, then what exactly am I?" The question was a shield, deflecting the discomfort of their carefree existence.

"Our best friend, obviously. Come on, you never do anything fun." Moka's voice was soft, a disappointment that mirrored Yunah's. You felt a pang of guilt, a flicker of longing for the laughter and adventures they shared, but the fear of falling behind was a stronger force. "I wouldn't be class president, and right now, your grades are ruining my reputation, so you better get started on studying too." The words were sharper than intended, a defense mechanism against the vulnerability they exposed.

It was a Friday afternoon, the school hallways echoing with the promise of weekend freedom. Your friends had begged you to join their park hangout, a tradition you had once cherished. But exams loomed, a meeting with the debate club was imminent, and the thought of wasting precious time traveling home only to return was unbearable. "We'll be close if you need us," Moka said, her voice tinged with defeat as the group of girls filed out of the room, eager to escape the confines of academia.

"You're still here? Seriously?" The familiar, yet slightly grating, voice of Jiung broke the silence. He appeared in the doorway, his raven hair slightly disheveled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You barely lifted your head, offering a perfunctory eye roll and a shake of your head. Jiung had an uncanny knack for appearing wherever you were. In class, his seat had mysteriously been moved next to yours. In the hallways, he effortlessly matched your pace. In the lunch line, he always seemed to materialize behind you. Even on your walk home, he would emerge from the local grocery store, two bags in hand, ready to greet you.

It wasn't entirely surprising, to be honest. You suspected he still harbored feelings for you, a sentiment he had boldly declared when you were both eleven, armed with a bouquet of flowers likely pilfered from his neighbor's garden. Of course, you had declined, convinced you were far too young for such entanglements, and wary of associating with someone whose attendance record was abysmal.

The fluorescent lights of the class hummed, a monotonous soundtrack to my increasingly frustrating afternoon. "You should know by now I have meetings on Friday, seeing as you're such a stalker," I muttered, my eyes glued to the open textbook in front of me, though the words were doing little to penetrate my concentration.

Jiung laughed, a genuine, throaty sound that bounced off the towering shelves. I couldn't fathom why he even bothered anymore. Every interaction was the same: me correcting his perpetually askew uniform, critiquing his haphazardly completed assignments, and generally disapproving of his penchant for mischief. As class president, it was practically my civic duty to keep him in line. Yet, despite my constant rebukes, he lingered, an enigma wrapped in a leather jacket and an infuriating smirk.

"I'm not a stalker, I just like being around you," he replied, his voice was with an easy confidence. He perched on the edge of the desk opposite me, straddling the chair backwards, his long legs splayed out. With a persistent tap, tap, tap, he drummed his fingers against the spine of my history book, a blatant attempt to snatch my attention. I refused to acknowledge him, my gaze fixed on the diagram of the French Revolution, though my mind was far from 1789.

"Why are you here after school hours, especially since you weren't even in class today?" I finally questioned, the words laced with the authority I'd cultivated over years of student council meetings and debate competitions. It was a tone that usually sent errant freshmen scurrying for cover, but Jiung merely grinned, unfazed.

"Great question, Prez," he drawled, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Let's just say I was at the doctor's." He reached out, his fingers deliberately pressing down on the page I was reading, effectively trapping my attention. It was a small act of rebellion, a challenge to my self-imposed order. Finally, I relented, lifting my gaze to meet his.

"Do you have a note?" I asked, my voice clipped. Questions. He hated them, especially when they came from me.

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Will you just stop being class president and be my friend?" he asked, the words dripping with fake sincerity.

"We aren't friends, Jiung. You're my obstacle," I retorted, turning back to my book, hoping to end the conversation.

"Girlfriend?" he countered.

I looked up again, my eyes narrowing at his persistent smirk. I wouldn't deny he was attractive, in a rebellious, bad-boy sort of way. But his ego was as vast as the Pacific, and I had no desire to become another notch on his metaphorical belt. With a swift motion, I slapped his hand away from my book. "For the last time, no."

He didn't flinch, his smirk widening. "You wound me, Prez. Absolutely wound me." He feigned a dramatic swoon, clutching his chest.

I rolled my eyes, a familiar wave of exasperation washing over me. "Just go away, Jiung. I have to study."

"But where's the fun in that?" he countered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Fine, fine, I'll leave you to your studies. But first," he tossed the paper onto the desk, "a little something for the class president."

Before I could react, he was gone, disappearing through the library doors with a final, lingering glance. I stared at the crumpled paper, a sense of unease settling in my stomach. It was a doctor's note, excusing Jiung from class due to an appointment. An actual doctor's note. You roll your eyes yet slip the piece of paper neatly into your pocket.

The days marched on with their usual, relentless rhythm, yet the prom loomed ever closer, a specter you had been dreading. You found yourself constantly putting off any preparations, as if delaying the inevitable could somehow make it disappear. It was supposed to be a grand affair, and you were so consumed with ensuring everyone else's enjoyment that you completely neglected your own. Several potential suitors had extended invitations, but you turned them all down, not because they were lacking, but because they simply didn't measure up—two of them were so unfamiliar that you suspected they were underclassmen.

The truth was, you hadn't carved out any time to plan a date, find the perfect dress, book a stylist, or even assist your friends with choreographing their elaborate "perfect entrance." Your plate was overflowing with responsibilities: exams to ace, events to organize, and the constant pressure to be the quintessential daughter, sister, best friend, and classmate. It was all too much, and you had inadvertently shut yourself off from anything remotely related to the prom. Flowers in your locker? Someone must have misplaced them, so you tossed them without a second thought. Notes tucked in your books? Probably just mindless scribbles from a moment of distraction, so you crossed them out. Staring at Jiung for the better part of Monday? Wait, what? Staring at *the* Jiung, the very same guy you had relegated to the sidelines for your entire life, the one you constantly complained about because he couldn't adhere to a single rule. The same Jiung who was your polar opposite.

Well... Jiung had gotten a haircut over the weekend. It was shorter, spikier, and seemed to accentuate his features far more effectively than his previous style. He had also clearly made an effort to look presentable this morning, sporting a shirt that wasn't crumpled, shoelaces that were actually tied, and, surprisingly, he was wearing his tie. And then there was the smudged eyeliner along his lower eyelids—a detail you hadn't realized you found so appealing on a guy until this very moment.

He was talking across the class to his friends, something you would've rolled your eyes at any other day. But today, you were sat with your head low, your cheek smushed into your hand, and your gaze fixed on the side of Jiung's head. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even realize the teacher was calling on you until Jiung's head turned. His eyes met yours, and it was very clear he caught you eyeing him up.

Flustered, you tried to smooth it over and answer the teacher's question, but you saw the way his smile faltered, just for a moment, and your voice went high-pitched and stuttery. Great, here you were, juggling way too many responsibilities, and now you have a crush. A CRUSH! You've never even had a proper crush apart from Patrick Swayze when you were five. It was all too much, and by lunchtime, you were sat in the nurse's office, throwing up and having to be sent home. The embarrassment and the weight of this new, unwanted emotion were just too much to handle.

When you returned to school a few days later, there were some stares, some whispers, some curious questions, but you weren't bothered by them at all. It was like a strange detachment had settled over you. You weren't bothered by anything, not even when someone was wearing their blazer wrong – a sartorial sin that would usually send you into a detailed critique. The fact that it didn't affect you was the weirdest part about it all.

You had spent so long building up your grades, your image, your reputation, meticulously crafting every detail, only for it all to come crashing down and be forgotten the moment your mind and heart decided now was the right time to start liking someone. Especially when that someone is Choi Jiung. Pretty much everyone noticed the change in your behavior, as well as your rapidly declining appearance: the dark bags under your eyes, the unkempt hair, the chipped nail polish. Your teachers seemed to take pity on you, refraining from calling you out in class. Your classmates stared with a mix of concern and amusement, and your friends peppered you with questions.

"Why are you so quiet recently?" Wonhee asked gently, trying not to invade your personal space too much. "Shouldn't you be criticizing how short my skirt is right now?"

You stared at the group of girls for a long moment, a ghost of your usual critical self flickering across your face, before leaning back against the brick wall behind you. "I'm just a little tired recently," you said, the words feeling hollow and inadequate. You couldn't bring yourself to mention Jiung; that would just open the floodgates, and you weren't ready for that conversation.

Jiung… what to even say about him? You were pretty sure he'd noticed the change in you, too. Whenever he tried to talk to you in his usual teasing manner, the tips of your ears would turn bright red, and you'd abruptly get up and leave, muttering some flimsy excuse about needing to be somewhere else. One time in the hallway, he'd come up to you and you even started crying, a full-blown, silent sob that threatened to turn into something much worse. Minju had to rush you to the nurse's office to prevent you from throwing up in front of everyone. That's exactly how he made you feel: sick, constantly nauseous, like you were on a rollercoaster that never stopped climbing.

There was this persistent, unsettling feeling in your stomach whenever you caught a glimpse of him, a knot of anxiety and something else you couldn't quite name. It had to be over soon; you couldn't even answer a simple question correctly in class anymore because, when he looked over, you went deathly silent, your mind blank. Even his friends had started to notice. Intak had walked up to you on a Thursday; lunch was about to end, and you were grabbing a bottle of water to stay hydrated.

"Do you like Jiung?" he asked with a teasing tone, a smirk playing on his lips. Your ears immediately went red, and they went even redder when you glanced behind him and saw Jiung and all his friends looking in your and Intak's direction, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Huh? No… why?" you said awfully quickly, your voice a little too high-pitched. At least you didn't stutter, you thought with a sliver of pride.

"Well, he's caught you staring at him a bunch, plus your ears keep going super red whenever you see him," he said, pointing at your ears with a grin. You were quick to cover them with your hands, as if that could somehow hide the evidence.

"I don't stare at all, and my ears get red when I'm angry because he never follows the rules," you retorted, trying to sound convincing, even though you knew it was a weak defense. And with that, you turned and left, slipping your water bottle into your pocket and practically sprinting away from the group, the weight of their gazes burning into your back.

It all went down on that last Friday, a weekend and just three days shy of prom. At this point, it seemed like everyone had their dates lined up and their dresses picked out. You were probably going to end up wearing one of your mom's old dresses and sticking with the student council crowd.

You were digging through your locker, trying to find a textbook that had likely slipped to the back amidst all your other stuff. Just as you were about to give up, a hand appeared in front of you, holding the textbook you were searching for. "Looking for this?" It was Jiung. You quickly grabbed the book, mumbled a thanks, and turned to the mirror on your locker door and that's when you saw Jiung step behind you, his face unusually serious. "Can you just tell me if you like me? I know I'm not your type, but you keep giving me these weird looks," he asked, his voice almost demanding.

You paused, thinking, but continued fixing your hair. He scoffed at your silence, then grabbed your arm, pulling you to face him, your nose just centimeters from his and people started to stare. "Look, I don't like you, okay? I just... I don't know, it's complicated," you replied, trying to avoid his gaze but he lifted your chin with his finger. "Just tell me. Nothing could be worse than getting rejected by you every month," he laughed, trying to pass it off as a joke and suddenly, you became hyper-aware of your actions and the eyes around you.

"I'm not just going to tell you in the hallway, things spread fast," you murmured, glancing at the onlookers. "Fine," he huffed, "meet me after school by the old music store." He smiled, turned you back toward the mirror, and quickly pecked you on the cheek, causing a collective gasp from everyone watching.

~ Every girl deserves to have her exploration, have a little fun without an explanation

[lissyloo1]

PIHMASTERLIST ----<3

Main Masterlist

Keeho:

Nothing yet...

Theo:

Nothing yet...

Jiung:

Every girl deserves to have her exploration

Intak:

Nothing yet...

Soul:

Nothing yet...

Jongseob:

Nothing yet...

[lissyloo1]

MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED BLOND JAMES IS BACK OMFG

He looks so good I'm freaking out.

This is the first thing I saw when I woke up and I fell out of bed screaming HE LOOKS SO GOOD.

It's a good day to be James biased

[lissyloo1]

BLUE LIPS MV MADE ME KIND OF EMOTIONAL BUT LOOK HOW GOOD THEY LOOK

JAMES (we all should know James is my bias) HE LOOKS SO GOOD HIS EYES OMG

Keonho was stunning the entire time

Wowowowow

ANGELHYEON OMG

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ----<3

Part 6

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

pairings: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs, Reader x Louis (kindaaa) love triangle situation

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~ but you don't want me to see nobody else

Tags: @juhoonzyz @hyuneskkami @lcvehyeon @kienhawon @letterstohyeon @xolaufeyberry @yeeyeehaw22 @bestboileeknow @katelynluvsniki @simpqueen2025

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ----<3

Part 5

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

pairings: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST KINDA swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs Reader x Louis (kindaaa) love triangle situation

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~Anyway don't be, a stranger.

Tags: @juhoonzyz @hyuneskkami @lcvehyeon @kienhawon @letterstohyeon @xolaufeyberry @yeeyeehaw22 @bestboileeknow @katelynluvsniki @simpqueen2025

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ---- <3

Part 4

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

pairings: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~ I wonder when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me

Tags: @juhoonzyz @hyuneskkami @lcvehyeon @kienhawon @letterstohyeon @xolaufeyberry @yeeyeehaw22

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ---- <3

Part 3

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

Pairings: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~ I still wanna be your favorite boy

Tags: @juhoonzyz @hyuneskkami @lcvehyeon @kienhawon @letterstohyeon @xolaufeyberry @yeeyeehaw22

[theficdiary]

Wild Heart Energy

By: @speedywizardland :

Why Me?

Trying to have Gotak for only yourself. - Gotak and Yn keep trying to get their freak on, but Baku keeps walking in and being a cockblock.

By: @xoxolaw :

𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗘 - in which Gotak sees her with a flower crown and a toddler and catches feelings he wasn’t ready for.

SECRET ADMIRER - in which he sneaks in snacks for his crush because he’s too scared to approach her

MUTUAL FRAUD - in which two teens fake being One Piece fans for each other, only to find out that they’re terrible liars, and a little bit in love.

𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗗 - in which Go Hyun-Tak’s been in love with her since age seven, but all she does is steal his hoodies and call him “bro.”

By: @oyasumiaikko

manager - The Eunjang High Basketball Team gets a cute new manager and instantly loses their minds. Hyuntak tries to stay focused… and fails spectacularly.

just a drink - Hyuntak is forced to take care of you after you get drunk at a bar all by yourself, spiraling from failing an exam you studied weeks for.

charming haircut - your boyfriend Hyuntak gets a new haircut that earns him way more attention than you’re comfortable with, while he just finds your jealousy ridiculously endearing.

By: @parkjihoonswifey

Desperation Of A Real Man pt2

Kicking Hearts

By: @gotaksboyfie

go hyuntak with a short partner

real or fake?

BIRTHDAY BOY - in which you plan a surprise party for your friend, not knowing that you’ll open something that you never knew existed between you two before. By: @whcfreak

gotak x shy!reader - A set of fluffy headcanons about being shy and introverted while dating Go Hyun-tak, followed by a soft little drabble that shows how he takes care of you in his own playful, gentle way. By: @lilswooddd

Falling for you (literally) - Gotak brings his fun, outgoing girlfriend to meet his friends at a trampoline park—where you instantly win everyone over and leave Gotak completely smitten. By: @pixiexdusts-world

DATING GO HYUNTAK HEADCANONS By: @hardbeingcasual

go hyuntak boyfriend hcs By: @cheongsanthinker

instructions not included - after spotting you in your quiet corner of the world — your parents’ independent bookstore — Hyun-tak suddenly can’t seem to stop thinking about you. By: @echoes-ofmoonlight

I think I just fell in love with you all over again - While on a casual city date, you and Gotak unknowingly take part in a wholesome social experiment by comforting a shy little girl. By: @rose24207

If it were anyone else - Your boyfriend got in a fight. So you stepped in to stop him. By: @maxineswritingcorner

IG STORIES: go hyuntak as your boyfriend (soft) By: @1eejunyoung

no name By: @sknyuz

Not his girlfriend - You had no choice but to open the door, and you are already a victim. By: @chuxmy

Steal the ball, not my heart! - You usually just watch them play, but suddenly you’re a part of their two-versus-two basketball game with your crush, go hyuntak playing against you. By: @hirasunny

so high school By: @currrentfixations

Drunk By: @honeyscara

sheets and silence - sharing a bed with your best friend, Hyuntak By: @bvbydriver

The Glasses Don’t Mean Weak By: @imhaechanshoe

we're mismatch, but I think I love it - Go Hyuntak can handle fights and rival teams, but he falls apart the second you walk into the room. Today, his shy, chaotic crush on you finally comes to light.. in the cutest way possible. By: @rinswirls

Anything for you. By: @tokoyan

You’re sick and Gotak’s here to take care of you. By: @perries-things

THAT'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND? - When Gotak's friends make it their mission to find out who his girlfriend is (which they sternly believe he is making up). They are shocked to find out that it is a musical arts student with a heart of gold that made their way into his heart. By: @lissyloo1

A Recipe for Almost - Was it ever really casual? Or were you just the only one brave enough to feel it? by: @ivyzhere

NOT SO SECRET - You need someone to practice your makeup skills on, but don't worry, because the handsome friend of your brother is there to help you! by: @night-daily

SEASONS: - after Hyun-Tak’s teacher approaches him with an ultimatum — whole team averages a B this semester, or no finals — a decision must be made by Eunjang’s basketball team by: @kissued

boyfriend heacanonons By: @suhoholic (18+)

Go Hyuntak NSFW alphabet By: @aliceskzfan (18+)

morning surprise By: @heartshapesandcigarettes (18+)

No title By: @4ever-me (18+)

Priority - y/n is fed up with Gotak always putting basketball first. When she calls him out, it leads to a heated argument. But why is his anger so hot? By: @slaybinnie (18+)

silent treatment - you and Hyuntak argue over his lack of communication, leading to you giving him the silent treatment. By: @bvbydriver (18+)

smart girl - a university au in which Hyuntak, determined and mighty and ready for anything, turns to mush in your presence. That is, until he has you turning into mush under him. By: @chanifesto (18+)

[lissyloo1]

IDOL---- <3

Part 6

Synopsis: As an idol yourself, you never thought you'd find yourself totally head over heels for the leader of Stray Kids, but after watching their performance at an award show your group were invited to a few months ago, your mind found itself completely in the hands of him

Pairings: Bang Chan x Idol!reader

Warnings: kissing

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

REQS OPEN

Walking hand in hand through the familiar school halls, Chan suddenly stopped before a door that had always been just another part of the scenery. He tested the handle, a slight shake, then another, before finally pushing it open and stepping aside, inviting you in. The room was surprisingly neat, comparable in size to your own recording space, perhaps a touch larger. A comfortable couch sat against one wall, a table cluttered with the remnants of past meals—empty takeout containers and scattered water bottles—and a solitary chair tucked off to the side. A small hanger held a coat, likely belonging to one of the other members. The recording booth stood prominent, the control panel nearby.

Sheets of paper were strewn about, catching your eye. You glanced at a few, a jumble of notes and ideas, before turning to see Chan setting up the control panel. He gestured towards the recording booth, an unspoken invitation to begin. "Definitely not," you replied, a playful defiance in your tone. "I don't even have any lyrics."

He met your gaze with a warm smile, then reached for a piece of paper from a stack of many. It was covered in scribbled words, which he turned to face you. "I have the lyrics, and the beat. Just learn it, and then you can record." A moment of internal debate ensued. You hadn't recorded in front of anyone except your own group and your manager, and the thought of potential voice cracks sent a shiver of anxiety down your spine. But curiosity, and a desire to impress Chan, won out. With a reluctant sigh, you agreed, hoping for the best as you rested against the couch

After what felt like forever of reading over the lyrics, trying to follow the beat, and changing your voice's pitch in certain parts, Bang Chan was sure you were ready to start recording.

"What do you even need this for, anyway?" you asked.

He laughed, ushering you into the room and then pressing the button so you could hear him between the two rooms. "I like listening to your voice, so I wanted you to sing something of my own creation. Plus, it will help if we ever have a future collaboration between our groups."

You listened to his voice, blushing slightly at his words that were entangled with his accent before slipping on the headphones and standing closer to the mic, rereading the lyrics again before taking a deep breath and starting.

The beat dropped, and you started to sing, trying to match the emotion and tone that Chan had envisioned when he wrote the song. It was a blend of soft and powerful, with moments where you had to hit high notes and others where you had to bring it down to a whisper. You closed your eyes, letting the music guide you, pouring your heart into each word.

As you sang, you could feel Chan's presence on the other side of the glass. You imagined him nodding along, his eyes closed as he listened intently. His passion for music was infectious, and you found yourself getting lost in the melody, forgetting your initial nervousness. The lyrics told a story of longing and hope, of finding strength in vulnerability. It resonated with you, and you let that emotion flow through your voice.

When the final note faded, you took off the headphones, your heart pounding. You looked through the glass to see Chan smiling, his eyes shining with pride. "That was amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You brought so much life to the song. I knew you could do it." You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and gratitude.

Stepping out of the recording booth, you made your way over to Chan's side, a nervous flutter in your chest. As the playback began, filling the room with the vibrant sound of the song, you couldn't help but feel a flush creep up your neck and settle on your cheeks. The color only deepened when Chan turned to look at you, his eyes searching for your reaction. It sounded good, incredibly so, and a warmth began to bloom in your chest, chasing away the familiar chill that had settled there for so long.

It had been ages since music had resonated with you in such a profound way. Before, it had become a chore, a mechanical addition to an increasingly monotonous job. Despite your genuine love for your group members and the unwavering support of your fans, the initial spark had long since faded, leaving a void where passion once burned bright. The songs you wrote had grown bitter and dry, your voice had lost its emotional depth, and your stage presence had dimmed, reflecting the emptiness you felt inside.

But that night, as you sat with Chan, listening to him speak so highly of his group and witnessing the unadulterated love he had for music, something had shifted within you. His words had acted as a catalyst, stirring something that had been dormant for far too long. A spark, long extinguished, had begun to flicker once more, igniting a flame of renewed passion and reminding you of the joy that music could bring. As you listened to the recording, you realized that this was more than just a song; it was a chance to rediscover yourself, to reconnect with the artist you once were, and to reignite the fire that had been slowly dying within.

You listened to the recording a few more times, dissecting each note and beat, pausing to appreciate the moments you both loved and earmarking sections that might need a bit of tweaking another day. But as the hours ticked by, the lateness of the hour began to weigh on you. Your group members were blowing up your phone, wondering where you were, and a familiar wave of exhaustion washed over you.

Gathering your belongings, you slung your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your jacket, and headed towards the door. Just as you reached for the handle, a hand gently landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you started to say, "I don't need you to walk me home today, Chan," but the words died in your throat as his lips crashed onto yours.

The kiss was a whirlwind of passion and longing, slightly clumsy at first, but he seemed to find his rhythm as it went on. It was you who eventually broke away, stepping back and staring up at him in stunned silence. "I'm sorry," he stammered, his hands now rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. "I had to, I've been wanting to do that for so long. I've never felt this way about anyone else. The first time I saw you at that event, you were so... awkward and cute, and I couldn't stay away. I want to be with you, emotionally and physically. I don't care what the company says, just stay with me, please."

His confession hung in the air as he searched your eyes for an answer. But instead of words, you responded with another deep, lingering kiss, pouring all your emotions into the gesture. When you finally broke apart, you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your lips. "You've always been perfect to me," you whispered, your heart overflowing with a love you had unknowingly harbored for so long.

~ My only love

[lissyloo1]

THAT'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND? ----<3

Synopsis: when Gotaks friends make it their mission to find out who his girlfriend is (which they sternly believe he is making up). They are shocked to find out that it is a musical arts student with a heart of gold that made their way into his heart.

Pairings: Go Hyun-tak x Fem!reader.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of physical fighting, angry Gotak, kinda mean Gotak (mostly to his friends), arguing (Gotak and his friends (mostly Baku))

An: I headcanon Gotak as someone who can't control their anger (or gets angry quickly) bc it's kinda shown that way)

Masterlist

REQS OPEN

"I'm telling you, I have a girlfriend!" Gotak shouts, his voice echoing in the small, cluttered club room. Baku retorts, "Yeah, sure you do, and I'm the King of England," narrowly dodging the basketball Gotak throws at him. Even Jun-tae, usually the most supportive, chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. They all knew Gotak – the guy with the noticeable limp, the barely-passing grades, and the anger issues that flared at the slightest provocation.

Si-eun, the quiet observer, adjusts himself on the bench, his voice a low murmur, "I've never seen her." Baku seizes the opportunity, leaning against the lockers, a smirk plastered on his face. "That's because she doesn't exist." Gotak's face reddens, his frustration reaching its peak. He slams himself onto the end of the bench press, the metal groaning under his weight. "Yes, she does! She goes to that fancy musical arts school, I'm telling you!"

Baku collapses to the floor in laughter, tears welling in his eyes. Jun-tae's chuckles are more subdued, a mix of amusement and pity. Even Si-eun, the ever-enigmatic one, cracks a small smile. "Way to make the lie even more obvious," Baku gasps between laughs. "Isn't music in that school meant to be super calming and whatever? And you're all anger issues and shit." Gotak explodes, slamming his fist against the locker above Baku's head, the metal reverberating through the room. "Just shut up! I'll bring her here tomorrow, I'm telling you!"

The next day, the club room buzzed with anticipation, minus Gotak. Si-eun and Jun-tae lounged on the couch, while Baku, restless, shot hoops at the plastic basketball hoop on the wall. "So, you think he's actually gonna bring anyone?" Jun-tae asked, skepticism lacing his voice. Baku scoffed, lining up another shot, "Nah, I reckon he'll skip today or somethin'."

Just as the words left his mouth, the door creaked open. All eyes snapped towards the entrance, Baku freezing mid-shot. Gotak shuffled in, his signature blue jacket a familiar sight. But then, he stepped aside, revealing someone who seemed plucked from a dream. An angel. She had wide, expressive eyes, cascading hair that shimmered in the light, and hands that looked like they belonged on a porcelain doll. Her bag hung neatly on one shoulder, a violin case clutched in her hand. Every step she took was graceful, precise, a stark contrast to Gotak's usual clumsy gait. She was order, he was chaos. She offered a shy wave to the stunned boys, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

"Do you guys believe me now, huh?" Gotak's voice cut through the silence, laced with a simmering anger. He strode forward and slapped Baku on the back of the head, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. The shock in the room was palpable, the air thick with disbelief. This ethereal creature, this vision of perfection, was with Gotak? It defied all logic, all expectations. The club room, usually a haven of playful banter and camaraderie, was now a stage for an unfolding mystery.

Baku stared, his mind struggling to reconcile the image before him. "There is zero way I'm actually awake right now," he muttered, his gaze darting between you and Gotak, as if searching for a hidden camera or some sign of a prank.

"Oh, my sweet boy, come here," Baku cooed in a baby voice, reaching out to pull Gotak's head to his chest in a mock cuddle. "He's all grown up now."

You giggled at the sight, your laughter light and airy, a melody that seemed to fill the room. Gotak groaned, pushing Baku away with a shove. "Stop, you're embarrassing me," he grumbled, though a faint blush crept up his neck.

As the initial chaos subsided, Jun-tae gestured towards a seat, offering it to you with a polite smile. However, Gotak, oblivious to the nuances of social etiquette—especially when it came to having a girlfriend—promptly plopped down in the chair. You didn't mind, though; you were more interested in exploring the club room, and Baku seemed more than happy to oblige as your personal tour guide.

Baku eagerly led you around, pointing out various trophies and pictures, before cheekily presenting you with...Gotak's sweaty jersey. "He's really stinky," Baku joked, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust.

Jun-tae chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. "He tries to act super cool on the court, but it doesn't look so great." The room erupted in laughter, save for Gotak, who was starting to regret bringing his girlfriend along.

"Can you guys all shut up? I'm right here, you know?" he complained, his blood starting to boil.

"No need to be so salty, Taki; your friends are really sweet," you said, walking behind the couch to caress his hair and landing a soft kiss on the top of his head.

"Aw, Taki, I'm totally calling you that now," Baku said, grinning mischievously. Gotak, who had been smiling up at you just moments before, shot Baku a fierce glare.

After a while of talking, Si-eun glances at his phone, reads a text, and then stands up. "I better go; my dad's mad at me for skipping cram school."

You nod in understanding before gathering your belongings. "Yeah, I better go too. I have practice," you say, lifting your violin.

Gotak immediately stands up and takes your hand. "I'll walk you."

~ Extra extra read all about it, Mac is in his feelings and he can't get out of it

An: I actually hate the ending sm but I don't know what to put

[lissyloo1]

WHCMASTERLIST ----<3

Main masterlist

Si-eun:

Nothing yet...

Suho:

Nothing yet...

Baku:

Nothing yet...

Gotak:

That's your girlfriend?

Baek-jin:

Nothing yet...

Seong-je:

Nothing yet...

Beom-seok:

Nothing yet...

Yeong-i:

Nothing yet...

Woo-young:

Nothing yet...

Jun-tae:

Nothing yet...

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ----<3

Part 2

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

Pairings: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs, kind of angst but not really

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~ so why can't you see? You belong with me

Tags: @hyuneskkami @juhoonzyz @lcvehyeon

[lissyloo1]

YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME ---- <3

Part 2

Synopsis: Just because your own husband was part of a well known mob group, doesn't mean you loved him any less. Even if that means dealing with his cold attitude and dismissive behavior | ANGST LITTLE BIT OF FLUFF ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

Pairings: Mafia!Ni-ki x Fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood/murder/mafia ect all mentioned

An: I'll be posting Idol part 6 and Crippling Love part 2 SOON but I wanted an update on this fic

Masterlist Part 1 part 2 part 3

REQS OPEN

The brightest smile I could muster was all I gave him before he disappeared, and I was back to the files. Hours blurred as I sorted through evidence, the kind of marathon only bureaucracy can inspire. Finally done, I wiped the sweat from my brow and headed out.

The halls were a mix of the usual suspects: important men, less important men, the occasional prostitute, random wives, money men, and bloodied-up members. I didn't know where Ni-ki was, and frankly, I didn't care. My hands ached, my head pounded, and I was done for the day.

I found my way to our bedroom—though it was more mine than ours. Ni-ki barely set foot in here. He was always in his office, dealing with "things" that got in his way. His wardrobe was elsewhere, so he had no reason to visit. We'd never been intimate, not even once. We didn't even share the same bed; he preferred his desk, too busy to be comfortable.

I crawled onto the massive bed—my bed—and curled up, massaging my stiff fingers. The room was quiet, too big for one person. Moonlight streamed across the floor from the balcony door.

The silence felt heavy tonight. I stared at the ceiling, replaying the day: his eyes during push-ups, his grip on my wrist, that almost-smirk...

Then, a sound. Soft. Familiar. Footsteps in the hall. The door clicked open slowly. A shadow filled the frame.

"You're here."

Ni-ki's voice was low, like he was surprised to find me in a place that was meant to be mine. He didn't enter. Just stood there in his suit jacket and bloodied knuckles—from handling "problems" again—his gaze fixed on me.

"...I thought you were still working."

The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the tender concern etched across your face. He hated this—the worry, the fuss, the way your eyes softened with a concern that pierced through his tough exterior. But there you were, already prepared, your small hands reaching for antibacterial wipes and bandages, a silent invitation for him to come closer.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the space you patted next to you. It was a domestic scene, a far cry from the dimly lit back alley where he'd been just hours before. But something in your voice, a quiet strength that belied your petite frame, drew him in. He moved, each step measured, until he was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from you.

As he sat down, the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. The scent of lavender from the wipes filled the air, a calming contrast to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He braced himself, not just for the sting of the antiseptic on his wounds, but for the inevitable questions, the gentle scolding, and the unwavering gaze that saw right through him. He knew you weren't a baby; you were his anchor, his confidante, and the one person he couldn't lie to, even if he wanted to.

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as you finished wrapping his hands, each movement precise and deliberate. He flexed his fingers, testing the tightness of the bandages, his eyes never leaving your face. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words and the heavy weight of their shared reality. "They won't be found," he repeated, his voice a low murmur that barely broke the stillness. You knew better than to ask for details; some things were better left unsaid, buried along with the bodies in the "usual spot."

A shiver ran down your spine, not from fear, but from a strange sense of intimacy. This was your life now, intertwined with his, bound by blood and secrets. You were a part of his world, a world where violence was commonplace and loyalty was paramount. You wondered if you'd ever truly escape, if you even wanted to. There was a dark allure to it all, a twisted sense of belonging that both terrified and exhilarated you.

You stood, gathering the discarded bandages, your hands trembling slightly. He watched you, his expression unreadable. In that moment, you knew you were at a crossroads. You could walk away, try to reclaim a life of normalcy, or you could embrace the darkness, become an accomplice in his world of shadows and secrets. The choice was yours, but you knew, deep down, that you had already made it.

You hummed in response, inching closer to get a better look at his face. It was a mess of bruises and cuts, a testament to the brutal life he led. Yet, even in this state, he possessed an undeniable allure. His features were sharp and striking, framed by dark hair that fell across his forehead. You secretly admired his looks, the kind of face you could stare at for days, lost in its captivating beauty. Of course, you'd never admit that to him, but the thought lingered in your mind as you gently dabbed the wipes along his cuts.

Your fingers traced the contours of his face, lingering for a moment on a particularly nasty bruise. You gave him a small, reassuring smile before moving back, breaking the intimate connection. "Alright, you should be all good," you said, trying to sound casual. "Go back to whatever you need to do." You paused, a hint of concern creeping into your voice. "You might need an ice pack for that eye, though. It's a little... dodgy." You hoped he wouldn't notice the slight tremor in your hands, the lingering warmth of his skin still tingling on your fingertips.

Your fingers traced the contours of his face, lingering for a moment on a particularly nasty bruise. You gave him a small, reassuring smile before moving back, breaking the intimate connection. "Alright, you should be all good," you said, trying to sound casual. "Go back to whatever you need to do." You paused, a hint of concern creeping into your voice. "You might need an ice pack for that eye, though. It's a little... dodgy." You hoped he wouldn't notice the slight tremor in your hands, the lingering warmth of his skin still tingling on your fingertips.

He didn’t move when you pulled away. Instead, he caught your wrist—gentle, but firm. His thumb brushed over your pulse point, once, before letting go. "You treat me like I’m fragile," he said, his voice low, almost accusing. But there was something beneath it—something softer, warmer. He stood slowly, towering over you again. "...No ice pack needed." He glanced toward the door but didn’t leave. "I’ll be in my office." Then he paused, looked back at you for a second too long. "...Sleep well." "I will," you murmured before settling down into bed again, humming as you slowly started falling asleep.

He stared at you for a beat longer, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the soft features of your face, the way your hair fell in loose waves around your pillow. An unnameable feeling stirred in his chest, a warmth that spread through him, unfamiliar and unsettling. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tearing his gaze away, as if the mere act of looking at you was dangerous. He took one last glance before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him silently. The weight of his gaze lingered in the air, a silent promise of something unspoken, something yet to come.

You awoke when it was still dark outside, the moon's reflection casting little light into your room. You sat up, eyes heavy. You didn't know why, but you found yourself padding across the wooden floors of the rather large house toward Ni-ki's office. Turning the knob slowly revealed a desolate office space. He's sitting in front of his computer, tapping away at the keys. He doesn't turn around—not even looking up as you enter. There's a mug of coffee on his desk, steam rising from its surface. "...You should be asleep."

His tone is flat, almost stern. He does turn his head slightly toward you. "….What are you doing here?" You find yourself walking across the floor towards him, wrapping your arms round his shoulders from behind and leaning next to his face "I had a bad dream," you say, closing your eyes, your head falling a little into the crook of his neck. He stops typing, tensing slightly as you wrap your arms around him. He hesitates a moment, as if unsure how to react; usually, you didn't physically touch each other like this. But slowly, cautiously, he leans back into you, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. He lets out a slow exhale, his breath tickling your ear. "....It was just a dream." His voice is quieter than usual, almost comforting. "I know, but I didn't want to stay in the bedroom alone... it was too dark," you say, opening your eyes to watch his reflection through the screen.

The hum of the computer filled the silence as you leaned into him, the fabric of his suit still damp with the grime of the day. "You're the only comfort I have," you whispered, your breath ghosting against his neck. His fingers, poised over the keyboard, froze. The room stilled, every shadow deepening as if holding its breath.

His voice was a low, guttural rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards. "...I'm not kind." He finally turned his chair, the movement slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. His bruised face, a roadmap of recent battles, caught the meager light. "I kill people. I lie. I burn cities to keep what's mine." His eyes, sharp and unforgiving, locked onto yours. "And you... still lean into me like I won't hurt you."

Your arms loosened slightly, a subtle shift in your embrace. You lifted your head, straining to meet his gaze in the dim light, searching for something beyond the coldness that veiled his eyes. "Would you?" you asked, the question hanging in the air, a fragile challenge to the darkness that clung to him. You stared at him longingly as if he was some picture perfect guy when he's not.

He watches you silently, his jaw clenching. Your gaze is too open, too soft—it goes against everything he stands for. He wants to scoff, to shove you away, to remind you of the monster you've married.

But the words don't come. There's something in your eyes—hope, trust, longing. It stirs something in his chest that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

He leans in closer. You can smell his cologne—a subtle blend of citrus and spice. His voice is quieter. "...No."

"Okay," you say, that's all you say before tightening your hands around him and lifting yourself into his lap, your legs hanging over one arm rest and your back leaning against the other. Your head found its way cuddling against his chest, your eyes tightly shut and your lips hinting at a smile.

"I'm pretty sure you're crazier," you murmur, tapping on his bloody T-shirt. "Keeping this on is disgusting by the way, you should change... not now though, I'm comfy."

He watches you silently, his jaw clenching. Your gaze is too open, too soft—it goes against everything he stands for. He wants to scoff, to shove you away, to remind you of the monster you've married.

But the words don't come. There's something in your eyes—hope, trust, longing. It stirs something in his chest that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

He leans in closer. You can smell his cologne—a subtle blend of citrus and spice. His voice is quieter. "...No."

"Okay," you say, that's all you say before tightening your hands around him and lifting yourself into his lap, your legs hanging over one arm rest and your back leaning against the other. Your head found its way cuddling against his chest, your eyes tightly shut and your lips hinting at a smile.

"I love you, Ni-ki... goodnight." He goes completely still as you climb onto his lap, arms looping around him in a comfortable, familiar way. He tries to ignore the way your body fits perfectly against his, the way his fingers automatically go to your hair, the way his heart thumps just a little faster. He can feel your breath against his skin, your soft weight on his lap. It's strange, and foreign, and he doesn't want it to stop. He looks down at you, the words catching in his throat. "....You're insane."

"I'm pretty sure you're crazier," you murmur, tapping on his bloody T-shirt. "Keeping this on is disgusting by the way, you should change... not now though, I'm comfy."

He glances down at his blood-stained shirt, then back to you, his eyebrow raising slightly. "It's just a little blood," he mutters. His fingers brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, lingering there for just a second too long. He's still not used to this—this closeness, this gentleness.

"You're too comfortable," he mutters, but his arms wrap a little tighter around you. You agree with him silently, a small nod of the head before soon you were drifting into an oddly comfortable sleep as Ni-ki resumes his work, almost as if he is ignoring the fact you are lying across his lap.

The soft hum of the computer fills the room as he continues working, one hand resting on your back—steady, warm. His fingers move slowly over the keys, deliberate and quiet, like he’s afraid to wake you. Every few minutes, his gaze drops to your sleeping face. He doesn’t understand how someone so soft can exist in a world so dark. And yet here you are—curled against him like he isn’t stained with blood and sin. "...Stupid woman," he whispers, "sleeping on a man like me." But he doesn’t move you. Doesn’t call for servants. Doesn't shut off the lights. He lets you stay. And for tonight—at least—he lets himself be yours.

~ Her eyes. She's on the dark side.

[lissyloo1]

CRIPPLING LOVE ----<3

Synopsis: Your oblivious to your best friends love for you. His friend takes it into his hands to make you realize. | FLUFF

Pairing: Bsf!Seonghyeon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, bsf!Keonho, includes all other cortis members and made up female bsfs

An: Lowkey adoring Hyeon lately and I wanted to make a cutesy fic

Masterlist

part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

REQS OPEN

~ You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you.

Tags: @juhoonzyz

[lissyloo1]

I'M SO LATE WITH POSTING THIS BUT... I WENT TO THE 1VERSE CONCERT IN BERLIN AND I OBVIOUSLY NEED TO SHOW MY PICTURES

You guys can lowkey clearly guess my bias.. I got pictures of pretty much all of them and they were so kind and funny especially Kenny. (Kenny and Seok wedding when?) YES I STAN 1VERSE 🫶

I also have WAY more pictures and vids but these are my favorite

ALSO PLS IGNORE MY VOICE I CANNOT SING IT SOUNDS SO BAD

I got a FUCKING PICTURE WITH THEM. Aito was so nice because I stumbled on my words when asking him to do the heart and he was so nice like OMD. I adore him sm. I lowkey accidentally walked away before high touch and Nathan went "wait what about us" and I turned around to see him with his hands up LIKE OML. He lowkey turned into my bias wrecker after the concert I'm so mad I have barely ANY pics of him bc he was always on the other side of the stage and I couldn't see him properly. Kenny was so funny during the high touch and Seok was super nice. ALSO IS NOBODY GONNA TALK ABOUT HOW CUTE AITOS SIGNATURE IS. I have a signed poster and the back of his photocard has a signature and it's so adorable.

I MISS HYUK I GOT SO MANY FREEBIES OF HIM

#STAN1VERSE