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Masterlist ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

category 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ᢉ𐭩.ᐟ🍮

Gachiakuta !

# calling them ‘bro’ while dating

# small confessions pt1

# small confessions pt2

# question

Plave !

Han Noah-the argument kiss

Nam Yejun-study session turn soft

random photos plave!smau

The deadly question plave!smau

Han noah-I still get jealous!

Plave x Sick!reader

A little side of note

I do not make ,

-characxcharac

-NSFW

-weird kink

-anything involves with weird stuff

HIHIIII💕 could i pls request a super fluffy plave x reader fic (any or all members) where they have to take care of sick reader? :3

HELL YEAHHHH, thank you for requesting !!

ft. PLAVE x Sick!reader

genre: FLUFFF

warning: not proofread, sorry if there’s any mistakes!!

Han Noah

Rain tapped softly against the window, a steady rhythm that filled the quiet room. The only other sound was the faint rustle of blankets as the reader shifted, trying and failing to get comfortable.

A soft knock came before the door opened just a little. Han Noah peeked in, his expression immediately softening when he saw the state of things.

“You’re still awake?” he asked gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You can’t help but gave a weak nod, voice barely above a whisper. “Can’t sleep… headache.”

Noah didn’t say much after that. He simply moved closer, setting a small tray down on the bedside table—warm porridge, a glass of water, and medicine already prepared.

“You should’ve told me earlier,” he murmured, brushing a hand lightly against the your forehead. His brows furrowed. “You’re still warm.”

There was no scolding in his tone, just quiet concern.

He adjusted the pillows carefully, helping the you sit up just enough. “Here, eat a little first. Slowly.”

Even though the you insisted you weren’t that hungry, Noah stayed patient, waiting, making sure each small spoonful went down. He didn’t rush, didn’t push just stayed there, steady and calm.

When it was time for medicine, he handed it over with a small smile. “You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

After everything, he dimmed the lights and pulled the blanket up properly, tucking it around the you like it actually mattered which, to him, it did.

“I’ll stay here,” Noah said quietly, settling into the chair beside the bed. “So just sleep, okay?”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You don’t have to—”

“I know.” He leaned forward slightly, voice softer now. “I want to.”

For a while, he stayed like that, watching over them as the rain continued outside. But when you shifted again, a small, uncomfortable sound slipping out, Noah hesitated.

“…Is it okay if I sit there?” he asked, nodding toward the empty space beside them.

A weak nod was all the answer he needed.

Carefully, he moved onto the bed, making sure not to jostle them too much. The mattress dipped slightly as he settled in, keeping a respectful distance at first until the you instinctively leaned closer, seeking warmth.

Noah froze for a second, then relaxed.

“Come here,” he murmured, gently pulling the blanket up around both of them.

He let the you rest against him, one arm loosely wrapped around their shoulders, his hand resting lightly as if afraid to hurt them. His thumb moved in slow, absent circles, soothing without even realizing it.

“You’re really warm,” he whispered, more to himself than anything.

But instead of pulling away, he adjusted, letting them lean more comfortably against his chest. “It’s okay… just rest.”

The steady sound of his breathing, the quiet warmth of his presence—it made everything feel a little less miserable.

As your breathing evened out, Noah shifted just slightly, pressing a soft, careful kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ve got you,” he said under his breath.

And this time, he didn’t move at all, just holding them close, keeping them warm, until sleep finally took over.

Nam Yejun

The living room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fan and the faint sound of a drama playing on the TV ,something you weren’t really watching.

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, feeling completely drained. Even sitting up felt like too much effort, so you just stayed there, eyes half-lidded.

The front door clicked open.

A few seconds later, footsteps approached and then stopped.

“…You’re here?”

Nam Yejun’s voice softened immediately when he saw you like that.

You turned your head slightly. “Mm… hi.”

He frowned a little, setting his things down quickly before walking over. “You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled automatically.

Yejun gave you that same look again—the one that said he wasn’t convinced at all.

“…You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” he said quietly, sitting down at the edge of the couch. His hand came up to your forehead, pausing there. “You’re warm.”

You let out a small sigh, too tired to argue this time.

Without another word, he stood up again, disappearing briefly into the kitchen. You could hear cabinets opening, water running small, familiar sounds that felt oddly comforting.

When he came back, he had water, medicine, and a small towel.

“Sit up a bit,” he said gently, helping you without waiting for you to struggle. His arm stayed behind your back, steady and careful.

“Drink first.”

You obeyed, taking small sips while he watched closely. When your grip weakened slightly, his hand adjusted over yours instinctively.

“Slowly,” he murmured.

After the medicine, he placed the damp towel against your forehead. The coolness made you flinch at first, then relax.

“…Feels nice,” you whispered.

“Good,” he replied softly.

He adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it in properly before sitting back down but not too far this time. Close enough that your shoulders brushed.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then, quietly—

“…Yejun.”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, then shifted a little closer. “…Can I…?”

You didn’t finish the sentence, but he understood.

There was no teasing, no hesitation.

“Come here,” he said gently.

He opened his arms just enough, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you naturally, pulling you into a comfortable, warm hold.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded against him.

He adjusted slightly so you could lie more comfortably, guiding you until your head rested against his chest instead. The blanket was pulled over both of you now, cocooning you in warmth.

His hand moved slowly along your arm, absentminded but soothing.

“You should rest,” he murmured.

Your fingers lightly gripped his shirt, like you were afraid he’d leave.

He noticed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he added quietly, tightening his hold just a little.

The TV continued playing in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it anymore.

All that mattered was the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his arms, and the way everything felt just a bit easier like this.

After a while, you felt something soft brush against your hair—a gentle, fleeting kiss.

“…Sleep,” he whispered.

And with you tucked safely against him in the middle of the living room, Nam Yejun stayed exactly where he was holding you close until you drifted off.

Bamby

The practice room was quieter than usual when Bamby finally checked his phone again.

No messages.

He frowned.

You always replied. Even if it was just a short “busy” or a random sticker—you never just disappeared for hours.

“…Weird,” he muttered under his breath, scrolling up again like something would magically appear.

Still nothing.

At first, he told himself you were just resting. Or maybe your phone died. But as time passed, that small uneasy feeling kept growing, sitting heavy in his chest.

By the time practice ended, he didn’t even hesitate.

“I’m heading out first,” he said quickly, already grabbing his things.

The trip to your place felt longer than usual. He kept checking his phone, hoping for a message that never came.

When he finally reached your door, he knocked.

Once.

Twice.

“…Hey?” he called out, a little louder now. “Open up.”

No answer.

His worry spiked.

“Seriously, this isn’t funny—” he muttered, trying the handle.

Unlocked.

He stepped inside carefully. “I’m coming in, okay?”

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“Hello?”

A small sound came from your room.

That was all it took—he rushed over, pushing the door open—

And there you were.

Curled up on the bed, blanket tangled around you, face flushed, breathing uneven.

“…What the—”

Bamby froze for half a second before hurrying to your side.

“Hey—hey!” he called, gently shaking your shoulder. “Why didn’t you reply?!”

You stirred weakly, eyes barely opening. “…Bamby…?”

“Yeah, it’s me!” His voice was sharper than usual, worry spilling over. “You scared me, you know that?”

“I just… felt tired…” you mumbled.

“Tired?” he repeated, then placed his hand on your forehead.

His expression changed instantly.

“You’re burning up.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“You should’ve told me!” he scolded, not loud—but firm, frustration laced with concern. “What if something happened and I didn’t know? You didn’t reply for hours!”

You flinched slightly, too weak to say much.

The moment he noticed, his tone softened immediately.

“…Hey,” he sighed, brushing your hair back gently. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just—worried, okay?”

You gave a small nod.

“Good.”

He stood up quickly, moving around your room with surprising efficiency—grabbing water, finding medicine, fixing your messy blanket.

“Sit up a bit,” he said, returning to your side. His hand slipped behind your back, helping you up carefully. “Slowly.”

You leaned into him without thinking, your head dropping against his shoulder.

He stilled for a second.

“…You’re really not okay,” he muttered softly.

He helped you drink, stayed patient through the medicine, even though you made a face. “Nope. You’re taking it. No arguing.”

After that, he guided you back down but this time, he didn’t move away.

Instead, he sat on the bed, looking at you for a moment.

“…Move a bit,” he said quietly.

You blinked, confused—but shifted slightly.

That was all the permission he needed.

Bamby slipped under the blanket beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. He hesitated for a split second… then gently pulled you closer.

“Come here,” he murmured.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t.

Your head rested against his chest, his arm wrapping around you secure, warm, protective.

“…You’re lucky I came,” he muttered, though his voice was soft now.

You let out a weak huff. “You sound like a mom.”

“Hey,” he protested lightly, tightening his hold just a little. “If I didn’t check on you, you’d just stay like this alone.”

…He wasn’t wrong.

His hand started moving absentmindedly along your arm, slow and soothing.

“Next time,” he said quietly, “you tell me. Even if it’s just one message.”

“…Okay.”

“Promise?”

“…Promise.”

He exhaled, tension finally leaving him.

“Good.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was calm now, filled only with your soft breathing and the faint sound of his heartbeat.

Then you felt it—

A gentle tap on your head.

“Seriously though… you scared me,” he whispered.

His chin rested lightly against your hair, holding you just a little closer than before.

“…Get some sleep.”

You relaxed into him completely, your fingers lightly gripping his shirt.

He noticed but didn’t tease this time.

Instead, he just stayed.

Holding you close, keeping you warm, making sure you weren’t alone anymore.

Do Eunho

⸻

The fluorescent lights of the pharmacy were too bright. You leaned against the counter, wobbly, trying to read the labels on a box of medicine. Everything blurred together—words, colors, even your own thoughts.

Fever… headache… something for cold…

Your hand hovered over the box, then dropped.

“…Which one…” you muttered.

“Wow.”

A familiar voice cut in from behind you.

You froze. Slowly, you turned—

And there he was.

Eunho, standing a few steps away, eyes wide. The usual teasing in his expression disappeared instantly.

“…Wait.”

He stepped closer immediately. “Why do you look like that?” His voice was calm, but you could tell he was panicking a little on the inside.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled weakly.

“Yeah… well, you thought wrong.”

You blinked. “…Huh?”

“You. Thought. You were fine.” His tone was dumbfounded, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He reached out, gently touching your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

You swayed slightly. “I just… came to get medicine…”

“Alone?” His eyes widened.

Before you could respond, he moved quickly, grabbing a few boxes of medicine from the shelves with practiced hands. “Here, for fever. This one’s for headache. And you need fluids,” he said, handing you a bottle of water. “Drink.”

You did, a little wobbly, and he immediately steadied your arm.

“Careful,” he muttered.

Once you had the medicine down, he motioned toward the door. “Come on. You’re not walking around like this.”

You tried to argue, but your legs betrayed you. He scooped up the bags and guided you out gently.

⸻

Later, back at your place, you were wrapped in blankets on the couch. Eunho sat beside you, looking just a little unsure of what to do.

“You… really shouldn’t have gone out like that,” he said softly, shaking his head.

“…I thought it was nothing.”

“Well… you thought wrong,” he repeated, dumbfounded again. “And now you’re stuck with me taking care of you.”

You gave a weak smile.

He adjusted the blanket around you, then shifted slightly so you could rest your head against his shoulder. His arm came up naturally, wrapping around you, holding you close.

“Stay like this,” he murmured.

You didn’t resist. Your head rested fully against him, and for the first time all day, you felt safe.

“…You’re really warm,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” He let his hand drift along your arm in slow, comforting circles. “…Next time, text me. Even one word is fine.”

“…Okay.”

“Good.”

You relaxed into him completely. Eunho’s hold tightened just a little when you leaned closer, and he muttered softly:

“Sleep… I’ve got you.”

Yu Hamin

The library was quiet, the soft hum of lights and distant pages turning filling the empty space. You had dozed off at one of the long tables, head resting on your arms, books scattered around you. Your cheeks were flushed, and a soft cough escaped every now and then.

Yu Hamin rounded the corner, headphones around his neck, and froze. His eyes went wide.

“…Wait. What the hell?” he muttered, practically dropping his backpack.

“H-Hamin…” you mumbled, blinking groggily.

He crouched in front of you, hands on his knees, dumbfounded. “…You’re… burning up. Seriously.”

“I… I just wanted to finish studying…”

Hamin blinked, then shook his head, his usual teasing grin flickering. “…Well you currently can’t”

He poked your forehead lightly. “Hotter than a summer day! Do you have any idea how worried I just got?”

“…I said I’m fine,” you mumbled weakly.

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back slightly, arms crossed in mock seriousness. “…Sure. Totally fine. Just a little zombie studying yourself into an early grave.”

You tried to sit up, but Hamin’s hands gently pushed your shoulders back. “…Nope. You’re not walking anywhere like this. I’m carrying you.”

Before you could protest, he bent down, scooped you up into his arms effortlessly, and stood. You yelped softly, half embarrassed, half relieved.

“You’re heavy,” he said, feigning struggle, though his grin betrayed him. “…And also ridiculously warm. But fine, my responsibility now.”

Your head rested against his shoulder as he walked toward the exit, your arms loosely draped around his neck. The library faded behind you, the hum of lights and distant pages nothing compared to the warmth and steady presence of him holding you.

“…You’re lucky I care this much,” he muttered, glancing down at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “…And stop looking like you’re dying—it’s gross but also kind of cute.”

By the time you reached his place—or rather, the couch he’d guided you to—you had already drifted off, exhausted. Hamin carefully settled you in his arms, adjusting you so you were comfortable against him.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead, then pressed a soft, gentle kiss there. “…Sleep now. I’ve got you,” he whispered.

You murmured something incoherent against his chest, already half-asleep, and he chuckled softly. “…Yeah, that’s my job.”

He held you there, arms wrapped snugly around you, fingers brushing along your arm, humming softly under his breath, making sure you were warm, safe, and completely cared for.

DONEEEE FINALLY, hope you enjoyed it hihi

#fypシ #plave #plave x reader #nam yejun x reader #han noah x reader #plave eunho x reader #yu hamin x reader #chae bamby x reader

shamalabingbong

keito wip cuz dammit be the change you wanna see in the world (I’m starved)

still working on the next chapter for my fanboy!tamon fic, im at a crosswords because I have two separate ideas for where the fic will go </3

in the meantime, may I give u grumpy keito realness cuz writing this made me laugh.

Manager assistant readers x Kieto bc someone needs to save that poor manager lemme cook

this is my first real attempt at humor please bare with me </333 also this is unedited so there’s probably a godly amount of grammar mistakes 😭

“Say, after your idol career is over, what do you think of starting our own family?”

Keito nearly choked on air. “You’re thinking about kids already? In this economy?!”

You rolled your eyes. Right, you’re dating the human equivalent of fucking Mr. Krabs.

“I think it’d be cute,” you continue on. “I’d love a little boy with your eyes and hair. A mini Keito!”

“We have five of those at home. You can take whichever one you want,” He said flatly. “I’m sick of boys, I’d want a girl.”

You chuckled. He’s not wrong. He's basically been put in charge of all his younger brothers (willingly) and four rowdy teammates (unwillingly).

“I wouldn’t mind a girl either. A mini Kie instead!”

“Hm,” He said, “I’d rather her have your eyes and hair. I’ve seen enough variations of my own.”

“Haha, aw, that’s so sweet!”

“Oh shut it,” He mumbled, burying his face into your shoulder. It did little to hide the red at the tips of his ears.

You switch gears, delicately running your nails through his hair and down his back.

“Hmm, what kind of girl do you think you’d want?”

Keito fell silent for a moment. Then, in a hushed tone, “Someone like Miss Kinoshita.”

You raised an eyebrow. Similar to you, it had taken a minute for him to get over his disdain for fans to properly acknowledge her skill and wit. Though, her (insane) obsession with his adopted sixth brother prime money maker likely hadn’t scored her any points in his book.

“Miss Kinoshita? Well, her caretaking skills are top notch,” You say.

Your senior, Mr. Fujita had put that poor girl through the wringer, adding excessive bullshitted clauses to her role as housekeeper to keep Tamon somewhat stabilized. To your surprise, however, it worked. Though, you’re pretty sure it’s more due to the fact that the main dancer of F/ACE is harbouring a serious crush on her than any calming technique Mr. Fujita is convinced Utage has. You glance over at Keito. He thankfully hadn’t noticed anything between them yet or he definitely would have blown a gasket. You huffed at thought. You can only imagine the Olympic-winning mental gymnastics routine he’d perform in his heaud to justify why this situation was alright and not theirs.

“She’s hardworking. Loyal. Listens and responds well to instructions,” he said.

“Uhh, are we describing a kid or a dog right now?”

A tic mark appeared on Keito’s head. “Would you let me finish?”

“Hm, maybe,” you said as you shut up, snuggling into him further.

He huffed and pulled the covers back over you both and tangled your legs together.

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Once you get past her Tamon craziness, she’s not that bad. She’s level-headed…for the most part.” He said much softer. “I’d want my daughter to have those qualities.”

As you heard him speak, you softened. Keito doesn’t compliment people for the most part, making the few compliments he did give out much more meaningful. It’s a side of Keito that you’ve oddly come to adore, because it showed all the more that you served as his only exception.

“–Also, we’d have one kid at max. With the rate of diapers going up every year consecutively, I’d even get a vasectomy if it came down to it.”

Anddd of course he had to ruin it.

“You don’t want her to have a sibling?”

“You’re asking me that?”

You deadpanned. “Touche.”

He chuckled under his breath. You could feel him at your pulse.

“She’d have nine uncles to play with. She wouldn’t ever be bored,” He mumbled.

Your mouth dropped open. “I think the sweetest thing you’ve ever said about your group members.”

“–Not to mention, two of them are rich-rich. Can you imagine the money we’d get out of them for the baby registry?”

“Genuinely, would it kill you to not talk about money for five seconds?”

He responded by gently pecking at your neck. “Yes. It. Would. Money makes the world go round.” He accentuated with each press he made towards your body.

You giggled at the sensation. He hummed in response.

“Though, I don’t think any of those four except Tamon would be any good at babysitting. And like hell I’d leave Kie alone with either that damn chainsmoker or gorilla. I don’t need her becoming a delinquent.”

“Oooh, so we like the name Kie?”

He pauses, “It’s a good name.”

sakumz

Hiii, im new around here and I really want to request you something flufff, if thats okay. Personally I want it to be about natsuki ishibashi having some times alone with the reader after finishing hia concert! Idc if you want to add smething else atp because im desperate for natsuki x reader

[n. ishibashi x reader]

--------------------------------------------------

you were a producer for f/ace and the girlfriend of natsuki. secretly dating the angel of the group. no one knows of the relationship.

f/ace had just finished their last concert of the night. natsuki comes back into the dressing room first, crashing onto the couch where you were sitting. his head on your lap.

you ran your fingers into his hair like it was second nature. he hums in response before falling asleep. you also fell asleep shortly after.

waking up to a cold feeling on your cheek, you snapped wide awake.

"producer," tamon shakes you hard, followed by ori drinking from the cold beverage after putting it on your cheek.

keito's face was super close to natsuki, who's still fast asleep on your lap.

"he didn't do anything, did he?" keito accused, using one finger to poke his head hard. he didn't budge at all.

"no," you grab keito's finger, pushing him away gently.

"well, we'll leave him in your care then. the place closes in two hours so goodluck waking him up by then," keito gathers the rest and leaves with them.

you've been with them since their debut, being similar in age, you had really good eyes on how to bring in the fans, how to get the revenue going, the concept. everything, they can easily trust you with anything. no one suspects anything of your romance with natsuki. they just think the blonde might have a crush on their little producer.

"are they gone?" you hear natsuki mumbles.

"yeah, and are you finally awake?" he gets up to prove a point.

pressing a sweet kiss on your cheek, you flush red.

"I'm starvin, let's grab dinner and go home." he takes your hand in his, along with your belongings and his as he drags you out of the concert place.

you used all your strength to stop him before you both actually stepped out.

"stop, stop, stop!" he halts, turning to face you.

you went on your tippy toes, to rearrange his beanie, trying your best to make him look like a normal boy, not the idol everyone loves so much, though you loved him more than anyone. he stands still as your hands worked their magic, brushing the strands away from his face. he couldn't help himself but do the same by tucking a strand behind your ear.

you grab his hand to show you were done and you both continued your walk to the nearest diner, chatting away. your compliments for his performance flow out of your mouth like water in the riverbanks.

"it's a success because you were there, my performance was great because you're watching and I only want to show you my cute happy angel side," posing with a peace sign as you laugh.

"you say that but I literally saw you in your boxers yesterday passed out from all that drinking," he flushed red in embarrassment.

"was I cool at least?" you hear him mumble.

"very cool, half of your body was on the floor and your legs were on the sofa. you should be glad I was there to lay you down properly." he sniffles his laughter back, you were always there.

as f/ace producer you helped with their concepts and as his girlfriend, you take care of him with all your heart. what else could he ask for?

moonlighttsunrise

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆.

— Marcel Paxley x Fiancé(e) Reader

Contains : Soft Jealousy, Married Life, Clemar Teasing

Disclaimer/Author’s Notes : OKAY, did y’all see what’s MLBB feeding us? Marcel animated contents and IT IS DELICIOUS. Hear me out on Marcel y’all 🤤🤤👅 His animation be looking like an otome game though.. But anyway, I have sum fixation with him lately so.. yeah. I have researched Marcel’s lore, etc for this fic. Still, I’m sorry if there’s a slight mischaracterization.

𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔!

The grand gallery of the Mobile Legends: Bang Bang capital buzzed with refined chatter and clinking crystal.

Paintings lined the marble walls. Golden lights shimmered overhead.

And at the center of admiration stood your fiancé — Marcel Paxley of House Paxley.

Elegant as ever.

Perfect posture. Gloves pristine. His dark blue hair falling neatly across his forehead as Clemar on his side. You admired him from afar with a fond smile.

Even after all this time… he still looked like a painting himself.

“Are you going to keep staring,” Clemar suddenly chimed, his lens glinting, “or shall I capture this devoted expression for eternity?”

You blinked.

Marcel sighed softly. “Clemar… behave.”

“Oh, I am behaving,” the camera replied. “I simply enjoy documenting romance.”

You laughed quietly and walked over.

“Am I interrupting a conversation?” you teased.

“Never,” Marcel answered gently.

But before he could say more, a noble approached you with a bright smile.

“Ah, you must be Paxley’s beloved. May I borrow you for a moment? The guests wish to ask about the exhibition arrangements.”

You nodded politely. “Of course.”

Marcel said nothing. He simply watched. Clemar tilted slightly.

“…Oh, seems like someone didn’t like that” the camera whispered, in a teasing way.

Marcel’s grip tightened. “Silence.”

“Oh please,” Clemar continued dramatically. “I can feel it. Elevated pulse. Micro-tension in your fingers. Classic jealousy symptoms.”

“I am merely observing.”

“Mmhm. Observing your beloved getting all the attention?”

Marcel adjusted his gloves. “…Professional composure is necessary.”

Yet his eyes never left you. The way you smiled. The way you listened attentively to that man. The way others seemed drawn to your warmth so easily.

A quiet feeling stirred in his chest. Not anger. Not distrust.

Just—

The soft fear of being left outside your frame.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

When you finally returned, you noticed the faint stiffness in his posture.

You stepped close. Too close for formality. “Marcel,” you said softly, “are you alright?”

“I am,” he replied smoothly.

Clemar made a soft whirr.

“He missed you.”

Marcel closed his eyes briefly as he sighed. “Clemar.”

“What? I am a device dedicated to honesty.”

You smiled knowingly.

So instead of questioning him further…

You gently held the lapel of his coat.

Stood on your toes.

And pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Marcel froze.

Completely.

Clemar SHUTTERED loudly.

SNAP!

“There we go!” Clemar cheered. “FINALLY some genuine emotional exposure!”

Marcel’s face warmed faintly.

“…You did that intentionally.”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

The photo slowly developed from Clemar’s slot. A perfect candid moment: Your lips against his cheek.

Marcel stunned, eyes slightly widened.

Soft pink dusting his usually composed expression, clearly showing his weakness. You.

You took the photo carefully.

“It’s cute,” you said.

Marcel looked away slightly. “…It is improper for public display.”

“Then we’ll keep it private.”

Clemar hummed mischievously. “Ah yes. The personal collection. My favorite category.” Marcel cleared his throat. “…Must you narrate everything?”

“Absolutely.”

You slipped your hand into Marcel’s. His fingers instinctively held yours tighter.

Grounding.

Possessive, but gentle.

“…Stay near me,” he murmured quietly.

You tilted your head. “Hmm?”

“…Crowds are troublesome.”

Clemar snickered. “Translation: ‘I prefer when you are within a one-meter radius so I can admire you without interference.’”

Marcel muttered something under his breath. (Probably something about Clemar.. yet, it is his other half.)

You laughed and squeezed his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A pause.

Then Marcel lifted Clemar again. “…One more photograph.”

“Of the Exhibition?” You asked.

He looked at you softly.

“…Of us.”

Clemar’s lens gleamed warmly. “Oh, I like this composition already.”

You leaned into Marcel’s side. He hesitated only a moment… Before resting his forehead gently against yours.

Soft.

Intimate.

Safe.

Snap!

Clemar hummed happily.

“Perfect exposure. No external distractions. Just two subjects… perfectly framed.”

Marcel allowed a small, rare smile.

“…Yes.”

And his thumb gently brushed over your knuckles. Then he led your hand near his lips, kissing it gently.

“As it should be.”

I’m thirsty for Mlbb fanfic without SMUT so I’m trying to cook with this fic

Hihi I just discovered your acc and I LOVE your Plave fics(they're quite hard to come by). Is it alright to ask for a fic with Eunho and Noah inspired by their Actually cover?

HI omg what the helly, how did I miss this one… im sooo sorry. First, ofcourse I can do it for you but I would want to ask for clarification first…

Since my acc is focused on characters x y/n , are you aiming for a romantic fic? Eunho fighting with Noah for y/n love? Or other than that? It would be much appreciated if you could clarified it for me :))

P.S

Im sorry for taking so long to notice this request 😔😭

sirbogglius

burger

“QUESTION”

ft; Zanka, Tamsy, Jabber

Context: your ex basically cheated on you but the gachiakuta boys had other plans :)

Zanka Nijik !

Your ex always treated you like you were replaceable —

until the day you caught him proving it.

You walked out before he could even open his mouth to explain.

And maybe he thought you’d spend the night crying.

But instead, you ended up on an abandoned rooftop, sitting on the ledge with the city lights below…

and Zanka leaning beside you.

“You look calm,” he says, smirking.

“Too calm for someone who just got cheated on.”

You shrug.

“He thought he could play games with me. Cute, right?”

Zanka scoffs.

“You gave him pieces of gold, and he traded you for tin.”

He turns to you fully — eyes sharp, voice lowering.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re worth more than his whole world. If he cheated, then he never deserved you in the first place.”

You raise a brow.

“Sounds like you care.”

He steps closer, grin softening into something real.

“I care because you do this stupid thing where you forget who you are. Let me remind you…”

His fingers brush your chin lightly — gentle, but with that signature Zanka confidence.

“You’re not the one losing tonight. He is.

He should be the one crying, not you.”

Your phone vibrates — your ex begging for “one last chance.”

Zanka plucks the phone from your hand, deletes the message, and pockets it.

“No more questions,” he says. “Come with me. I’ll show you what it feels like to choose someone who actually chooses you back.”

And for once, you let him.

Tamsy Caines !

You don’t remember how long you walked after leaving your ex’s place.

All you remember is the cold night wind and the burning sting of disbelief.

He cheated.

He really did.

And somehow he expected you to forgive him.

You find yourself in the quiet scrapyard, sitting on a broken crate, head in your hands.

That’s when you hear soft footsteps — steady, familiar.

Tamsy.

He approaches slowly, kneeling beside you like you’re something fragile he doesn’t want to break.

“You okay?” he asks, voice deep but gentle.

You swallow.

“He cheated on me.”

Tamsy’s jaw tightens. It’s subtle — but you see it.

He looks away, taking a slow breath.

“…I knew he didn’t deserve you.”

You laugh weakly.

“So everyone except me knew?”

“No.” He meets your eyes.

“You just wanted to believe the best in him. That’s not a flaw. That’s kindness.”

He pauses.

“And he used it.”

You look down at your hands.

“Maybe I wasn’t enough.”

Tamsy immediately takes your wrist — firm but tender.

“Don’t say that. Not even for a second.”

His voice cracks just slightly, emotion slipping through.

“You were too much for him. Too good. Too real. He couldn’t keep up, so he looked for something easier.”

You blink at him, surprised.

Tamsy exhales, standing and offering his hand.

“Come with me. Let me walk you home. I don’t want you being alone tonight.”

You hesitate.

“Are you pitying me?”

His grip tightens just enough to answer you.

“No. I’m choosing you. Something he never did.”

When you take his hand, his shoulders drop in relief.

And for the first time that night…

you feel safe.

Jabber Wonger !

The moment Jabber finds out your ex cheated, he nearly drops the stack of metal pipes he was carrying.

“HE WHAT?” he practically shrieks, eyes wide.

You rub your temples.

“Jabber, calm down—”

“No! No no no— don’t tell me to calm down!”

He leaps onto a pile of junk, pacing dramatically.

“He cheated on YOU? On YOU? Seriously?!”

You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re acting like you’re the one who got cheated on.”

“Maybe I am!” he snaps, pointing at you.

“You deserved someone who worshipped the ground you walked on! Someone who’d freak out if you didn’t text back in five minutes! Someone who—”

He stops abruptly.

“…someone who isn’t him.”

His voice softens.

He hops down, landing close — surprisingly close — and stares at you with those bright, intense eyes.

“You didn’t cry, right?”

You smile.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Good.”

He taps your forehead lightly.

“Because he doesn’t get to have that part of you. He doesn’t get anything anymore.”

You tilt your head.

“Why are you so worked up?”

Jabber huffs.

“Because you’re… you! And he didn’t see that. Which means he’s either blind, stupid, or both!”

Your phone buzzes — your ex calling.

Jabber grabs it before you can. He answers.

“This is Jabber. No, you can’t talk to them. Because you cheated, you donkey. Goodbye.”

Click.

He hands it back, proud.

“There. Problem solved.”

You snort.

“Jabber… you’re unbelievable.”

He grins, fangs and all.

“Yeah, but you like that about me.”

And honestly?

You do.

I like soft jabber sm ;(

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hii i love your fics <3

could you please write a han noah x reader where he gets jealous bcs someone keeps flirting with the reader

I still get jealous !

ft. Han noah!Plave x reader

genre:fluff fluff fluff

Han Noah isn’t the jealous type.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. He’s calm, playful, the type to joke his way through anything — including the random people who can’t help but flirt with you sometimes.

He trusts you. He knows you’d never entertain it.

But that doesn’t stop the little spark of irritation that burns in his chest when someone else makes you laugh.

Especially that guy.

You were at PLAVE’s studio that evening — you’d dropped by with some snacks for everyone after their long day of practice. The room was lively, music still echoing faintly through the speakers. Everyone had thanked you warmly, but one of the staff members — a new guy helping out for the week — seemed a little too friendly.

He’d been standing beside you for the past ten minutes, chatting, smiling wide, leaning closer every time you said something.

And Noah noticed.

From his spot by the mirror, towel slung around his neck, he wasn’t even pretending to hide his stare anymore. His expression was still polite for everyone else’s sake — but his jaw was tight, and his usually bright eyes were just a little colder.

You finally turned toward him, laughing softly at something the staff guy said before waving goodbye and walking over.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your drink down next to him. “You okay?”

He looked up, trying to act casual. “Yeah.”

You raised a brow. “You sure? You look like you just watched someone steal your ramen.”

That earned a quiet chuckle out of him, but it didn’t last long. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

You tilted your head, unconvinced. “You’ve been glaring holes into the wall for the past five minutes.”

“…Was I?”

“Mm-hm.”

He sighed. “…Okay, maybe I was glaring at something else.”

You smiled knowingly, stepping closer. “Jealous, Han Noah?”

His ears turned pink instantly. “No.”

“Really?” You crossed your arms. “Because you look like you’re one bad joke away from challenging him to a dance battle.”

That made him laugh properly, shoulders relaxing a little. “That obvious, huh?”

“Painfully,” you teased.

He met your eyes then — soft brown meeting yours, the corners of his lips tugging upward in a tiny, sheepish smile. “I just… didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Like how?” you asked, curious.

“Like he forgot I exist,” Noah muttered, voice quiet but firm. “Like he thought he had a chance.”

You blinked, heart doing a tiny flip. You weren’t used to him sounding like that — steady, certain, with that faint possessiveness laced in his tone.

You took another step closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. “You know you don’t have to worry, right?”

He nodded, a tiny smile forming. “Yeah, I know. But still… can’t help it. You’re kind of hard not to want.”

Your breath hitched. “Han Noah.”

“What?” he said, smirking a little. “Just saying the truth.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his arm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But you’re mine, yeah?”

Your face warmed instantly. “You don’t even have to ask.”

That earned you his brightest grin — the one that makes his eyes curve and his whole face light up. He leaned in, voice dropping low near your ear.

“Good. Because I was about to start glaring again.”

You laughed, gently tugging on his hoodie strings. “Please don’t. You’re cute when you pout, but you scare people when you glare.”

He chuckled, looping his arms around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “Then I’ll save it for emergencies only.”

“Like when someone flirts with me?”

“Exactly.”

You smiled, pressing your forehead against his. “Then you better keep that glare ready, because I think half your fans flirt with me online daily.”

He groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

You giggled, and he finally smiled again — the jealousy melting away into something softer, sweeter. He kissed your temple, murmuring against your skin, “You drive me crazy sometimes.”

“Good,” you whispered, smiling. “You do the same to me.”

Hope you like it …… because its been a long time since I write for plave…. 💜🥹