#BOYNEXTDOOR

[nicholasluvbot]

SWEET AS SINㅤ ◞ㅤ 或 ❜ㅤ ── 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ｡

𝖲𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖣𝖨𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖤 ★ ──── 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗅 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 ｡

𝑓 ⟡ㅤ 700ㅤ ｡ ㅤ𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ❜ ㅤ ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉ㅤ ✴ㅤ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝗂𝖵𝖨𝖮

𝑙 ｡ 𝗀𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆 🍀

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮

sungho’s hands are firm on your waist, gripping just tight enough to make you feel desired, but never too much. he loves pinning you against something, one hand cradling your head as he tilts it just right, so he can kiss you deeper, better. his fingers squeeze your side lightly, his lips grazing yours before he nips at your lower lip,pulling back just enough to scan your face with yearning eyes. he watches the way your breath hitches, the way your lips part slightly, and it drives him crazy—then he’s kissing you again—insatiable, passionate—like he’s addicted to the taste of you.

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖱𝖨𝖶𝖮𝖮

the moment your lips touch, he holds you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. his hands are slow, deliberate, savoring every second. they start at your waist, fingertips barely pressing in before sliding up—tracing the curve of your back, the slope of your shoulder, finally settling at the nape of your neck. he tilts his head, deepening the kiss with a quiet sigh, his lips moving over yours with a gentleness that makes your chest ache. when you shift closer, his arms wrap around you fully, pulling you into his warmth. and when he finally pulls away, it’s only to brush his lips against yours once more, a soft smile forming before he whispers, “stay right here.”

𝖬𝖸𝖴𝖭𝖦 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖧𝖸𝖴𝖭

jaehyun doesn’t just kiss you—he worships you. his hands are everywhere, never settling in one place for too long. one moment, his fingers are tangled in your hair, the next, they’ve slipped under your shirt, tracing slow circles against your waist, brushing over your jaw—like he needs to memorize every inch of you. he kisses you deeply, thoroughly, like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to kiss you again. when you shift closer, he hums in satisfaction, pulling you fully into his lap, arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. and when he finally, reluctantly, pulls away, he presses kisses along your jaw, down to your neck, before murmuring, “let’s stay like this a little longer.”

𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖲𝖠𝖭

he kisses you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. his hands cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, holding you still as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. yet, there’s nothing rushed about it—just slow, unrelenting passion, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into the way his lips move against yours. one hand drifts down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and when he finally pulls away, he lingers—his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your wrist. his voice is quiet, rough with emotion. “i could kiss you forever.”

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖫𝖤𝖤𝖧𝖠𝖭

he kisses you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. there’s no urgency in the way he holds you, just a quiet certainty—the way his hands find your waist, fingers pressing in just enough to keep you close, thumbs skimming absentmindedly over your ribs. when you shift closer, his arms wrap around you fully, warm and secure, his palms gliding up your back in slow, soothing strokes. he tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a soft hum, as if he’s perfectly content to stay like this forever. when he finally pulls back, his fingers trail gently over your cheek, like he can’t bear to stop touching you just yet. then, with a soft smile, he leans in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖶𝖮𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖪

he doesn’t just hold you—he clings. his hands are restless, fingers skimming over your sides, gripping at your sleeves, pressing against your back like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. at first, he kisses you hesitantly, like he’s afraid you might pull away. but the moment you respond, he melts—arms wrapping fully around your waist, pulling you so close you can feel his heart racing. when you pull away, he barely gives you a second to breathe before chasing after your lips again, eyes dazed, cheeks burning, his voice a breathless whisper against your skin. “one more,” he pleads, “just one more.”

ㅤnetworks ◞ @kstrucknet @k-films @sgz-net

[coriihanniee]

WE WOULD'VE BEEN TIMELESS — ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𓂃۶ৎ ALTERNATIVE : boynextdoor reimagined through countless worlds and eras

𓂃۶ৎ PAIRING : boynextdoor x f!reader

𓂃۶ৎ GENRE(S) : alternate universe (au), romance, fluff, angst, fantasy, historical, supernatural

𓂃۶ৎ WARNING(S) : violence, mature themes, angst, mental health issues, a bit of profanities in Taesan's, major character death(s) in Sungho's, Taesan's and Leehan's, author loves angst lol

𓂃۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 1.3k - 1.7k words / member

𓂃۶ৎ A/N : this has been sitting in drafts for SO long bcs I thought it wasn't well-written out but you guys seem interested in reading it so here it is!

SUNGHO 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : world war II (1939 - 1945)

˖➴ PAIRING : soldier!sungho x nurse!reader

The sound of distant gunfire never seemed to fade, lingering in the thick, smoky air like a constant reminder of the chaos outside the hospital walls. The battlefield was never far from your thoughts, even here—where bloodied soldiers came and went, and where you worked tirelessly to heal their wounds.

But then there was him.

Sungho. A young soldier who looked as though the war had aged him years beyond his actual age, though he still carried himself with a quiet dignity. His sharp jawline, the dark circles under his eyes—everything about him screamed of someone who had seen too much, endured too much. Yet when his eyes met yours for the first time, there was something soft in them, an unspoken plea for something other than survival.

He was brought to you after a raid, his shoulder bleeding and his face pale with pain. Despite the chaos around you, your focus zeroed in on him, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. You worked quickly, cleaning the blood from his injury and applying a bandage, but his gaze never left you.

His lips parted in a faint, strained smile. “I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to get a nurse like you.”

You chuckled, a soft breath escaping your lips as you kept your eyes on the task at hand. “You’re the lucky one. There are many others waiting for help.”

As you finished, you allowed your eyes to meet his again, taking in the quiet strength in his features. He didn’t flinch or protest, even as pain lanced through him. There was a certain calmness in his presence, a kind of bravery that resonated with you more than any heroic story ever could.

“You’ll be alright,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his skin as you reassured him, though the words felt almost empty in such a place of endless war.

“I’ll be fine,” Sungho said with a gentle smile. “As long as I don’t have to fight another battle with you.”

You smiled back, a flicker of warmth spreading through you despite the cold, sterile surroundings.

As days passed, Sungho began to recover. Slowly but surely, he moved from the bed where you had patched him up, to standing beside other soldiers, offering them words of encouragement. It was in these small moments that you saw who he truly was—a man who didn’t give up, no matter how bleak things seemed.

But the more you saw him, the more you realized how deeply you had started to care. The way he spoke to you in quiet moments, his eyes always holding something unspoken, something tender. He would often appear at the makeshift hospital when the night grew quiet, bringing you a cup of warm tea or just standing by your side when you needed a moment to breathe.

“You should rest,” you would tell him, but he’d just shake his head, that faint smile never leaving his lips.

“I can’t rest while you’re still working so hard,” he would say, his voice soft with genuine concern.

There was a lightness in the way he moved, an effortless grace that made your heart flutter. It was a quiet kind of charm, not loud or brash, but steady and comforting. Sungho didn’t need grand gestures to make you feel seen. Just being near him was enough. He was the calm in the storm of war, a beacon of hope in a place where hope was scarce.

But then, just as you began to settle into the strange rhythm of life at the hospital, everything shifted again.

The night came quickly, swallowing the light of the day, and with it came the sounds of distant artillery. The hospital, once a refuge from the war, began to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a ticking time bomb. The quiet hum of the infirmary was punctuated by the sounds of soldiers in pain and the occasional scream as a patient was brought in, bloodied and broken.

That night, the sounds outside grew louder—closer.

You were stitching a deep wound on a young soldier’s thigh when the door burst open, a medic rushing in with urgent news. “The front lines are advancing faster than expected! We need more hands!”

The panic was palpable, and you didn’t have time to think. You grabbed a fresh set of bandages, ready to do what you did best—patch them up and send them back to the fight.

Sungho, who had been standing by the window, turned to look at you with a furrowed brow. “Be careful,” he said softly, though you knew he couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice.

“I always am,” you replied, offering a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was anything but calm. The reality of this place—the war—had a way of stealing all sense of control, of taking away any semblance of safety.

As the hours wore on, you worked tirelessly, your hands growing numb from the constant stitching and bandaging. You barely noticed the clock ticking, the minutes slipping by unnoticed until you felt a sudden shift in the air—something was off.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the light dimming as the distant sounds grew louder, too loud to ignore. The familiar hum of the hospital was interrupted by a series of explosions, shaking the walls and rattling the windows. The lights flickered once, twice—before going out completely.

And then came the sound that would haunt you forever: the deafening roar of artillery shells, followed by the shriek of metal tearing through the air.

“Get down!” Sungho shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

You didn’t hesitate. You dropped to the floor instinctively, covering your head as debris rained down around you. The walls seemed to tremble, the ground beneath you shaking as though the earth itself was being torn apart. The sounds of the explosion echoed in your ears, followed by the blaring of alarms, the shouts of soldiers, and the frantic cries of the wounded.

Sungho was by your side, pulling you into his arms as the building groaned and shifted around you. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice desperate, the urgency in his tone more than you had ever heard before.

You clung to him, heart pounding in your chest, a surge of fear rushing through you. This was it. This was the moment you had both feared and tried to push out of your mind. The war was here, and it was claiming everything.

A second explosion rattled the walls, sending dust and debris scattering through the air. Sungho's grip tightened around you, his body pressed protectively against yours, as if somehow he could shield you from the devastation tearing through the building. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his voice was barely more than a whisper when he spoke.

"I won't let you go," he said, his words heavy with fear and determination. "Not like this."

You tried to nod, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. The hospital, your last semblance of safety, was crumbling around you, and you were trapped in the middle of it. A deep crack sounded from the ceiling above, and the world seemed to tilt violently. You could hear the anguished cries of the other soldiers—people you had cared for, patched up, sent back out into the madness. But now, the madness was here, inside these walls. And you, Sungho, and everyone else were caught in it.

"Sungho..." you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if—what if we don't make it?"

He didn’t answer at first. He only tightened his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the horror that had already begun to unravel. But there was no protection from this, no way to stop the inevitable. The explosion had already torn through the building. The foundation was weakening.

"I don’t care," he said, his voice breaking, raw. "I just want you to be okay. I’ll take the fall, if it means you’re safe."

Your heart cracked at his words, because in that moment, you both knew. This wasn’t a fight you could win. The war outside had finally breached the hospital’s fragile defenses, and there was no way to escape it. Even if you ran, even if you tried to make it to the door, you both knew it was too late.

"Stay with me, Y/N," Sungho breathed, his forehead resting against yours. His face was pale, his hands shaking, but his eyes—those eyes that had seen too much—still held that quiet strength. "Don’t leave me alone in this."

But you knew—there was no leaving this place. No running. No escaping.

The building groaned once more, and then came the deafening crash of falling debris. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The walls around you buckled, and the floor cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the air growing thick, the dust filling your lungs, and the heat from the fires that had started in the chaos. Sungho’s arms were still around you, holding you close, but you could feel the tremor in his body. He knew, too. There was no saving you now.

RIWOO 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : victorian era (1837 - 1901)

˖➴ PAIRING : nobleman!riwoo x servant!reader

The estate was a world of rules and expectations, where lines were drawn and crossed by those who had the privilege of wealth and status. You had spent years in the shadows of that world, bound to your position as a servant in the grand estate of the Lee family. The aristocratic family had long been known for their lineage, wealth, and impeccable reputation, and you—born into a life of service—had always been the quiet observer, playing your part without complaint.

But then there was Riwoo.

He was different. Though born to privilege, he had always treated you with a warmth and kindness that set him apart from the others. While his family considered you a mere servant, Riwoo never saw you as beneath him. His smile, the glint of humor in his eyes, the moments of quiet conversation—those were the things that made you question everything you thought you knew about love, about yourself, about your place in the world.

And so, it began—unspoken but undeniable—a feeling that crept in slowly, quietly, until it was all-consuming. You were drawn to him, though you dared not say it aloud. It wasn’t just the way he treated you, as though you were something more than a servant. It was the way he saw you. In his eyes, you weren’t invisible. You were worthy of his attention, his affection.

But you knew better than to entertain the thought. He was a nobleman, his life already mapped out for him in a way you could never hope to achieve. Riwoo was promised to another—someone of his own status, a woman whose family was as high-born as his own, whose name carried the weight of society’s expectations. You, on the other hand, were a servant. A woman who knew her place and never dared to dream of crossing the line that separated you.

But as time passed, the bond between you two deepened. The stolen glances, the shared moments of laughter in the garden, the way he would find excuses to speak to you alone in the quiet of the estate. It was intoxicating, that quiet affection, and it was impossible to ignore. There were moments when his gaze lingered on you a little longer than it should, when his hand brushed yours as he passed you something, when the air between you thickened with the weight of something unspoken.

One crisp autumn afternoon, the estate was quiet, the gardens bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. You were carrying a tray of tea to the family’s private sitting room when you ran into Riwoo. He was standing near the windows, gazing out at the landscape, his back to you. The sunlight caught his hair, casting an almost ethereal glow around him. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Is something troubling you, sir?” you asked, using the polite form of address you always did.

He turned to face you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I was just thinking,” he said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “About how beautiful the world can seem when you stop and actually look at it.”

You set the tray down on the nearby table, your gaze lingering on him. His words struck a chord within you, as though they held a deeper meaning. But you couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in them. You couldn’t afford to entertain thoughts of him beyond what was proper.

“You should focus on your duties,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral, though your heart felt heavy.

He frowned slightly, stepping closer, and for a moment, you thought he might say something that would change everything. But instead, he simply reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I always forget how much I’m supposed to focus on the family’s expectations. Sometimes, I wish I could just leave it all behind.”

You swallowed, fighting the sudden surge of emotion. "It’s not something you can just walk away from. You have your future planned out, Riwoo. You have responsibilities."

His eyes locked with yours, and you saw something there—a quiet defiance, an unwillingness to accept the fate that had been mapped out for him. “Maybe," he said quietly, "but what if I don’t want that future? What if I want something more?”

Your breath caught, and you pulled away, not trusting yourself to look at him any longer. "You can't have what you want, Riwoo. It’s not possible."

Days passed, and the weight of those words lingered like a shadow. You tried to bury your feelings, focusing on your tasks, your duties. But every time Riwoo came near, it felt as if the world tilted slightly, pulling you toward him in a way you couldn’t explain.

It was on one of those nights, as you worked late in the drawing room, dusting the shelves of books that lined the walls, that Riwoo found you. The soft light of the candle flickered as he stepped into the room, the faint sound of his footsteps on the stone floor making your heart flutter.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Riwoo said, his voice low and warm.

You turned, startled, but the moment you saw him standing in the doorway, you felt an ache deep inside. You knew what this was—the weight of what you could never have.

“Riwoo, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

He walked closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and your breath hitched. “Why do you always run from me?” he asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and longing.

“I’m not running from you,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “But you’re promised to someone else. We both know it.”

He shook his head, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

Your breath caught. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let yourself believe that this was real—that his words weren’t just fleeting, a momentary lapse in judgment. But you knew better. You were nothing more than a servant, and he was a man of noble birth. It was a love that had no future, no place in the world that had been built for him.

“But you don’t get to care about me,” you whispered, stepping back, your voice breaking. “You have responsibilities. You have duties. You’ll marry someone else, someone with a name, someone who fits into your world. I don’t belong there.”

Riwoo’s expression softened, a deep sadness in his eyes. He reached for your hand, gently taking it in his. “Then why is it that when I’m with you, I feel like I’m finally where I belong? Why does everything else feel so empty?”

You wanted to pull away, to tell him to forget about you, to move on and marry the woman he was supposed to. But the way his hand held yours, the way his thumb brushed gently against your skin, made it impossible to resist.

“Riwoo, you don’t know what you’re saying,” you murmured, tears welling in your eyes. “You’ll regret it. This can’t happen.”

He leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I won’t regret this,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Not if it means being with you.”

For a moment, the world outside the estate faded away, and there was only the two of you. The weight of your worlds, of your stations, felt far away, as though in this moment, nothing else mattered. His lips hovered just inches from yours, and you could feel the electric tension between you both. But just as the distance closed, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and reality crashed back in.

Riwoo pulled away, his expression conflicted. He knew the consequences of what he was about to say, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, his voice fierce, though his eyes were filled with regret. “And I will find a way to make this work. I’ll make it work, I swear.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You can’t. You’re bound by duty.”

“I’ll find a way to break those chains,” he replied, his voice filled with determination. “Just wait for me.”

JAEHYUN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : 1920s hollywood

˖➴ PAIRING : hollywood star!jaehyun x screenwriter!reader

The air was thick with anticipation as you walked through the sprawling Paramount Studios lot, the golden California sun casting long, languid shadows. The sound of the filmmakers' hushed whispers, the clatter of crew members adjusting lights, and the hum of the cameras rolling all seemed to blend into the same seductive hum of Hollywood’s eternal glamour. It was here, in this world of bright lights and silent whispers, that your dreams were beginning to take shape.

You were a screenwriter—an uncredited one for now, but that was about to change. Your latest script had caught the attention of a powerful producer, and it had found its way into the hands of Hollywood’s rising star. Myung Jaehyun. The name rolled off the tongues of everyone in Tinseltown, synonymous with talent, allure, and an effortless charm that had made him one of the most sought-after men in Hollywood.

Jaehyun wasn’t just another actor. He was a phenomenon—a man with a smile that could stop traffic, a voice smooth as velvet, and eyes that carried the kind of depth that turned heads both on and off the screen. You had seen him in countless movies, his face always illuminated in black and white, always perfect, always untouchable. But now, in the midst of this chaotic world you both inhabited, he was more than just an actor to you.

He was about to be your leading man.

When the production began, you found yourself constantly at odds with your own nervous energy. Jaehyun’s presence on set was nothing short of commanding. He moved through the scenes with an effortless grace, making it seem like the world was his stage. His performances were impeccable—his boyish smile, his quiet confidence, his ability to draw the audience in with the flicker of his eyes. But the more you saw him perform, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something hidden beneath his perfect exterior.

In truth, you weren’t sure what to expect when you first met him on set. He had been cast for your script, after all, and there he was, bringing the very words you had written to life.

But the first time you locked eyes with him in person, you realized that he was more than just the face you had imagined in your head while writing. Jaehyun was a man of contradictions. Behind the laughter and the charming persona, you could see the weight of something darker—something far more complex.

One late evening, after a long day of shooting, the set was nearly empty. The crew had gone home, and you were alone in your thoughts, reviewing the script one last time. You felt the faint hum of the projector still running in the background, but it was Jaehyun’s voice that made you pause.

“You’re still here?”

You looked up, surprised to find him standing near the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His tousled hair and the loosened tie around his neck only added to the rugged allure he wore so effortlessly. His smile was warm, but there was something softer in it that caught your attention.

“Yeah, just... trying to get this right,” you said, your voice betraying the weariness that had settled deep into your bones.

“You’ve been at this for hours, haven’t you?” Jaehyun asked, stepping into the room with slow, deliberate steps. He didn’t look at the script in your hands; instead, he focused on you, his gaze lingering like he was trying to see past the professional façade you both wore. "You should take a break. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Not when I’m this close,” you said, a wry smile playing on your lips. “I can’t afford to fail. This script—it’s everything.”

Jaehyun’s eyes softened. He didn’t respond immediately, instead letting the silence hang in the air between you two. He took a step closer, his tone light but full of sincerity. “I get it. The pressure’s... a lot. But you’re doing something incredible here. Don’t lose sight of that.” He leaned in, his voice lowering as he added, “We’re all counting on you, you know? I’m counting on you.”

His words were quiet, but they made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with nerves or exhaustion. The way he spoke, the intensity behind it—there was something in his gaze that made you feel as though you weren’t just another person in Hollywood trying to make a name for herself.

You shifted slightly in your chair, feeling a sudden tightness in your chest. “I don’t know if I can live up to this,” you admitted quietly, your eyes now focused on your hands, gripping the edge of the desk.

Jaehyun stepped closer still, his presence calming, and gently placed his hand over yours. The weight of his touch sent a ripple of warmth through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting your chin with his fingers so that your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, yet tender, as though he was seeing all the parts of you that you were too afraid to show the world. “You will live up to it. I have no doubt. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

There was a softness in the way he spoke, and it made your chest tighten. The quiet sincerity in his voice was so different from the public persona he wore. For a moment, Jaehyun wasn’t the glitzy movie star—he was just a man who understood what it felt like to be on the edge, caught between expectations and the overwhelming weight of living up to them.

You swallowed, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you tried to break the sudden tension that had settled between you. “You’re the one who’s going to make my script a success, Jaehyun. I’m just a writer. All I do is type words.”

But Jaehyun shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, you’re more than that. You’re the one who gave me the words to speak. Without you, I’d just be another pretty face.”

The way he said it—so simply, but with such conviction—made your heart skip. There was a sincerity in his eyes that sent a flutter through you. It was just the two of you in the dimly lit room, where the outside world couldn’t touch you.

“You’ve got a way with words, don’t you?” you said, your voice a little quieter now, the flirtation in your tone impossible to ignore.

Jaehyun’s smile deepened, and he took another step closer until he was standing just in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. His hand remained on yours, gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he replied softly. “But if you want me to say something else—something different—just say the word.”

Before you could respond, Jaehyun grinned mischievously, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment before flicking back to your eyes with a spark of teasing intent.

“Well, if you really want me to say something else…” he leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your ear, “I could tell you that I’m more than just a pretty face.”

His voice dropped to a near whisper, and for a moment, you swore he was closer than he’d ever been. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, your pulse quickening in the most unexpected way.

And just as quickly as it started, Jaehyun stepped back, flashing you a playful grin. “But, of course, that’s for you to decide.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving you standing there, wide-eyed and flustered, the lingering warmth of his presence making it impossible to focus on anything but the playful tension that now hung in the air.

TAESAN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : zombie apocalpyse

°˖➴ PAIRING : protector!taesan x survivor!reader

The world, once full of laughter, bustling cities, and endless possibilities, had collapsed into nothing. It started slowly at first—a virus that seemed like any other flu strain, a quick outbreak that was initially contained. But it spread with terrifying speed, mutating faster than anyone could comprehend. Cities fell. Governments tried to maintain order, but there was nothing they could do. What had started as a series of isolated incidents exploded into full-blown panic as the virus turned the infected into the ravenous undead, driven only by hunger. Soon, civilization as you knew it was gone.

You had been running from the horrors of your home colony, the last of its inhabitants trying to hold onto what little hope remained. The colony was overrun, and you barely made it out alive, clutching a few meager supplies and running on nothing but adrenaline. Your legs burned from the effort, your lungs seared with the cold air as you ran through the overgrown streets of the abandoned city. You had no direction, no destination, but you kept going. Because stopping meant dying.

It was on that fateful night that you stumbled upon a small, fortified group of survivors—Taesan’s group. At first, they were wary, watching you from behind the makeshift barricades they’d built. You knew what they were thinking: Another stranger. Another liability.

But when Taesan looked at you—his piercing eyes scanning you with a mix of caution and something softer—you knew you were not just a stranger to him. You were another soul lost in the world, just trying to survive. And somehow, amidst the chaos of the world crumbling around you, you both found something in each other that you weren’t sure existed anymore: a chance.

Days turned into weeks. You and Taesan barely spoke at first. He was a man of few words, hardened by loss, his hands stained with the blood of the countless zombies he’d fought off to protect the group. But there was something in the way he looked at you, something that made your heart ache in the best way. It wasn’t pity or obligation; it was a quiet understanding that you both had seen the same horrors, that you both carried the weight of the apocalypse on your shoulders.

One night, as you both stood watch on the outskirts of the small camp, the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words. The wind howled through the broken city, and you could hear the distant groans of the undead, far too close for comfort.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the cold night, barely louder than the rustling leaves. “I don’t know why I’m here. I should’ve stayed back, tried harder to save them… to save my people.”

Taesan shifted beside you, his eyes fixed on the darkness. “There was nothing you could do. They were gone before you could make a choice.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you wiped at your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “But they were my responsibility.”

“You’re still here, though,” he said, his voice soft, almost tender. “That means you didn’t give up. And that’s what matters.”

The words felt like a balm to your raw soul, soothing the ache of loss that had consumed you for so long. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone who cared about your well-being in this world that was nothing but a relentless cycle of survival.

“You don’t have to carry all that weight alone,” Taesan continued, his eyes briefly flicking to you before returning to the night ahead. “We’re in this together.”

His words hit you harder than you anticipated. It wasn’t the survival that was the hardest part of this world. It was the loneliness. The isolation. The fear that no matter how many people you met, no matter how many battles you fought, you would never find someone who truly understood what you were going through.

But here was Taesan, standing beside you, offering something you never thought you’d have again—a connection. A lifeline.

The next few days passed with more quiet moments between you and Taesan. You still didn’t speak much, but there was an unspoken understanding. He would protect you, and you would do everything in your power to help him protect the group. The world had become nothing but survival, but in the small moments, in the silent exchanges, you both began to heal.

One evening, as you worked on fortifying the camp’s entrance, Taesan came over, his footsteps light against the rubble. He stood a few feet away, watching you with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke.

“If you ever need to talk about… well, any of this,” he began, his voice gruff but sincere, “I’m here.”

You met his gaze, seeing something there—something that wasn’t just about survival, but about trust. “I’m… I’m not used to this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Not having to do everything alone.”

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to truly feel the relief that his presence brought. He wasn’t a savior, and you weren’t some helpless soul. You were two survivors, two people who had witnessed the end of everything and still found a reason to live.

Taesan nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I get it,” he said simply, and you felt the sincerity in those words more than anything else.

There was no grand declaration. No sweeping gesture. But as the days passed and the two of you navigated the horrors of the new world together, you realized that what you had with Taesan wasn’t just about survival.

It was a promise.

A promise to protect, to fight for something more than the end of the world—to fight for each other.

The night had fallen again, and the world outside the makeshift barricades was silent. Too silent. You knew it was coming. The warning signs had been there—the sudden surge of zombies near the perimeter, the strange movements in the shadows. Your heart raced in your chest, the air thick with the stench of fear and the eerie quiet that only preceded a storm.

"Stay close," Taesan's voice was low and steady, a sharp contrast to the pounding in your chest. His hand gripped his weapon tightly, ready for whatever came next. The once-confident leader, the protector of this ragtag group, was now standing right beside you, offering a calm you wished you could match.

"I’m not leaving you behind," you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You'd grown too close to him. Taesan wasn’t just the man who protected you anymore. He was someone you trusted, someone you relied on in a world that had stolen everything from both of you.

He didn’t reply, but there was a flicker in his eyes. Something raw. Something real.

A loud crash echoed from the east side of the camp—zombies had breached the barricades. The horde surged forward like an unstoppable force. You and Taesan were both already moving, adrenaline taking over as you fought your way through the chaos. But something felt different this time. The air was too heavy. The weight of something… terrible.

In the frenzy of the battle, the world seemed to slow down. Your heart pounded as you watched Taesan, his movements swift and precise, cutting down zombie after zombie. You followed, staying close, making sure no one got left behind.

And then it happened.

A sudden sharp pain shot through Taesan’s side. You didn’t see the zombie approach, didn’t hear the crack of its teeth sinking into his flesh. But you saw the blood—the crimson stain spreading on his shirt.

"Taesan!" you shouted, rushing to his side.

His face was pale, the color draining from him rapidly. His grip on his weapon faltered. "It’s nothing," he tried to assure you, but his voice was strained, ragged.

"Don’t lie to me!" you snapped, your hands frantic as you pressed against the wound, desperately trying to stop the blood flow. "Shit, we need to get you inside. Now."

But Taesan shook his head, his eyes dark with something that made your heart seize. "It’s too late. You know it is."

"No!" you cried, shaking him. The panic surged through you. You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

He chuckled weakly, but it was bitter. "You should have stayed away from me," he said, his voice rough but filled with the kind of regret that sliced through you. "I’m not the man you think I am."

"Don’t fucking say that!" You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. "Please, just hold on."

But he didn't listen. His hand reached for your cheek, his fingers cold, trembling. His gaze softened as he traced the outline of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I tried to protect you," he whispered, so softly you almost missed it. "But it was always you who was protecting me."

Your heart stopped. You shook your head, unable to process the depth of his words, the weight of his confession.

"Taesan," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t—"

"I need you to know," he rasped, his breathing labored. "I—"

His words were cut off by a groan of pain as he collapsed to his knees. You scrambled to catch him, but his weight was too much, and he slumped forward, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I… I love you," he gasped, his eyes half-lidded with pain. "I never… I never said it, but I do. Always."

Your breath hitched, the tears spilling over, soaking his shirt. He was confessing. He was confessing now, at the end, when it was too late.

You felt his body growing cold in your arms, the transformation already beginning as his grip loosened, his body twitching.

"No," you breathed, trying to hold him up. But his body was already changing, his eyes flickering to that dark, vacant stare of the infected.

Your heart shattered. You couldn’t let him suffer. You couldn’t let him become one of them.

Without thinking, you pulled out your gun—the one you had hoped you'd never need to use. With shaking hands, you raised it to his head.

"Taesan," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I’m so sorry."

The last flicker of recognition in his eyes lingered for a moment, just long enough to know that he understood. And then, with one final tear, you pulled the trigger.

LEEHAN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : 18th century, coastal village

˖➴ PAIRING : fisherman!leehan x mermaid!reader

Leehan had grown up hearing the stories.

Old fishermen, with their weathered hands and salt-stained voices, spoke of mermaids—creatures of the deep, neither fully human nor beast. Some swore they were monsters, dragging sailors into the abyss with their haunting songs. Others claimed they were omens, appearing before a storm to warn those wise enough to listen.

But there was one tale that had always stuck with him.

"A mermaid’s love is a curse."

"Once a mermaid chooses a human, they are bound forever. But the sea is jealous—it never lets them keep what they love for long."

Leehan never believed in fairy tales.

Until the day he met you.

It was supposed to be an ordinary day. The sky was clear, the waves calm, and Leehan was focused on his fishing net when he saw something unusual—a shimmer just beneath the surface.  

At first, he thought he was hallucinating. The sun reflected off your iridescent scales, casting flecks of light over your skin. Your hair clung to your face, eyes wide as you stared at him, both of you frozen in shock.  

Then, you smiled.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," you teased, tilting your head.  

Leehan swallowed hard. "You're real."  

You floated closer, resting your arms on the edge of his boat. "I could say the same about you. Most humans never get this close."  

"Most humans don't believe in you," he admitted, though he couldn't take his eyes off you.  

"You do."  

Leehan hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe it would be easier if he didn’t. But something deep inside him—the same part that used to listen wide-eyed to old sailors' stories—whispered that he always had.

So, he nodded.

And you smiled, like you had been waiting for that answer all along.

Days turned into weeks. Every morning, Leehan would take his boat out a little farther than usual, knowing you’d be waiting. And every time, you’d greet him with that teasing smile.  

“You should be careful,” he warned one day as you played with the ropes on his boat. “If anyone sees you—”  

“They’ll try to kill me?” you finished, unfazed. “I know. Humans are predictable.”  

Leehan frowned. “Not all of them.”  

You looked at him then, and for the first time, your teasing expression softened. “No. Not all of them.”  

It wasn’t long before you started waiting for him, not just to talk, but to listen. You wanted to know everything—what it was like to live on land, to see the stars without the water blurring them.  

And in return, you told him about the ocean. The parts of the world he would never see. The beauty of the deep, the dangers lurking where light couldn’t reach.  

“You love it, don’t you?” he asked one evening, watching the way your face softened as you spoke.  

“The sea is my home,” you admitted. “But lately… I wonder what it would be like to stay here instead.”  

Leehan’s breath caught in his throat, but before he could say anything, you laughed.  

“Relax, fisherman. I wouldn’t last a day on land.”  

But you both knew it was too late.  

You were falling. And so was he.  

The village had always feared the sea. It was in their blood—their fathers and grandfathers had warned them of the creatures lurking below, waiting to drag them under.  

And now, they had proof.  

You never saw them coming. One moment, you were waiting in the shallows for Leehan, the next, hands were on you—nets tangling around your limbs, rough voices shouting.  

“Look at the size of it!”  

“It’s real!”  

“A monster—”  

You fought, but the more you struggled, the tighter the ropes became. The air burned in your lungs. The sun was too bright. And then—  

“STOP!”  

Leehan’s voice cut through the chaos. He shoved through the crowd, panting, eyes wide in horror as he took in the sight of you—trapped, helpless, terrified.  

"Let her go," he demanded.  

One of the older men turned to him, scoffing. "You knew, didn’t you? You’ve been hiding this thing?"  

"She's not a thing,” Leehan shot back. “They’re—” He stopped himself. He din’t know what to say. What could he say? That you weren’t dangerous? That you weren’t a threat?  

No one would listen.  

The village had already made up their mind.  

The sky was painted in the colors of dusk when they decided your fate.  

A harpoon. A single strike to the heart. It would be quick, they said. A mercy.  

You had stopped struggling by then. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the realization that there was no escaping this.  

Leehan tried to run to you, but strong arms held him back.

“No—” Leehan thrashed against their hold, but the villagers’ grip was unyielding, rough hands digging into his arms, keeping him in place. He struggled anyway, desperation surging through him like a raging tide. “Let me go! Please—”

His voice cracked on the last word, raw and broken, but no one listened. No one cared.

You turned your head slightly, eyes finding his through the chaos. And then—despite everything—you smiled. A soft, tired thing.

“…Leehan,” you murmured, voice gentle, as if you were comforting him.

Leehan’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “Don’t—” His voice wavered, thick with grief. “Don’t act like this is okay.”

Your gaze softened. There was no fear in your eyes, no anger. Just a quiet acceptance. “It was always going to end like this, Leehan.”

“No.” His struggles weakened, exhaustion creeping in, but he still fought against the hands that held him back. “No, it wasn’t.” His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with unshed tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

You inhaled slowly, as if savoring the air one last time, then exhaled, your expression turning wistful. “You were the best thing I ever found on the surface.”

A sharp inhale. His jaw clenched. His whole body shook with the weight of words he couldn’t force out.

“Don’t—” His voice cracked again, barely above a whisper.

Your fingers twitched slightly, as if reaching for him, but the ropes were too tight. “Leehan,” you breathed, softer now, like the final note of a fading song. “If things were different... if I could stay...”

He shook his head violently, chest heaving. He still fought, still tried, but the hands on him only tightened. It was useless.

So you did it for him.

“I would have chosen you.”

And then—  

The harpoon struck.  

A gasp. A shudder.  

And then, silence.  

The water, which had always been so full of life, was still.  

Leehan's hands trembled at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as if he could still reach you—still pull you back from your predicament.

But nothing could.  

Not even love.    

The village cheered. The monster was dead.  

But Leehan didn’t move. He stayed there, frozen, his body trembling as he stared at you. The villagers slowly loosened their grip, but he didn’t fight anymore. There was nothing left to fight for.

Slowly, he lifted his head.  

And for the first time in his life, he hated the sea.  

WOONHAK 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : present day, with a twist of supernatural

˖➴ PAIRING : hunter!woonhak x human!reader

The first time you met Woonhak, you had no idea just how much your life was about to change. It was late at night, and you were walking home from a late study session, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. That’s when you saw it—a figure in the distance, a dark, twisted shape moving toward you in the alley.

It didn’t take long for you to realize what it was. The gleam of fangs in the darkness made your blood run cold, and before you could react, the vampire lunged at you. The world seemed to slow down as the creature closed in, its eyes glowing with malice.

But then, everything went quiet. A sharp crack echoed through the alley, and the vampire stumbled back with a horrible, gurgling sound. Your heart raced, your breath caught in your throat as you turned to see him—Woonhak. Standing tall, his gaze focused and intense, a silver blade in hand, glinting in the moonlight.

He moved with a precision you couldn’t even fathom. The vampire didn’t stand a chance as Woonhak sliced through the air with swift, calculated strikes. Every movement was practiced, sharp—like he’d been doing this for centuries. In moments, the vampire crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a dark puddle forming beneath it.

You stood frozen, your legs barely holding you up as you watched him wipe his blade clean. The silence that followed felt deafening.

Finally, you managed to speak, your voice shaking with the remnants of adrenaline. “Who—who are you?”

Woonhak turned to you, his expression softening as he met your gaze. A small, reassuring smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Just someone who takes out the trash,” he said with a lightness that didn’t quite match the intensity of the situation. Then, his voice softened, his gaze never leaving you. “Are you okay?”

You backed away slightly, still in shock, trying to process the scene you had just witnessed. “That was... real, wasn’t it? You... you killed it.” The words felt like they were coming from someone else, your brain struggling to make sense of the new reality you’d just been thrust into.

Woonhak nodded, wiping his blade with a practiced hand. “Yeah. Vampires, demons... they’re real. You’re not safe here anymore,” he said, his tone growing serious. He looked at you with a quiet intensity, his gaze never faltering. “I’ll protect you. But I need you to trust me.”

Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the chaos of the situation. “Why should I trust you?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “You’re just... a stranger. Why me?”

His expression darkened slightly, a flicker of something—pain, maybe—passing through his eyes. “Because I’m your only chance at survival,” he said, his voice steady but with an underlying edge. “And because this isn’t the first time the supernatural world has taken an interest in you.”

As the days passed, Woonhak stayed close, always keeping an eye on you but never making you feel suffocated. His playful banter filled the quiet moments between your training sessions, making the tension of your new life seem almost manageable. He trained you, not in the usual way, but in self-defense. His hands were firm as they guided yours through each motion, his voice confident and lighthearted, always adding a bit of humor to keep the mood from getting too heavy.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said one evening as you practiced a defensive maneuver. “But trust me, you’ll be thanking me when you’re knocking out vampires with one punch. You’ll look so cool doing it.”

You shot him a playful, frustrated look, unsure of how to process everything he was telling you. “And you’re just... some supernatural hunter? Why me? What’s so special about me?”

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before flashing you a grin. “It’s not just that. You’ve got this... energy, this connection to things that are way bigger than you or me. And hey, I’m just here to make sure you don’t get eaten alive in the process.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “What do you mean? Am I... am I a target?” The thought made your stomach churn.

Woonhak’s grin softened, and he gave you a reassuring nudge. “Yep, you are. But, hey, don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Always.” His smile was wide, full of the confidence that made you believe, for a moment, that everything was going to be okay.

The weeks that followed were filled with moments of laughter and small, meaningful conversations between your patrols and training sessions. Even with the tension building around you, Woonhak’s humour kept things light. It was hard to stay too overwhelmed when he made it seem like every supernatural creature was just another silly challenge to face. You even started looking forward to his jokes, his smiles, and the way he made you forget just how crazy everything around you really was.

Then, one night, after barely escaping an ambush by a pack of rogue werewolves, you found yourselves standing side by side, breathless and covered in dirt. The tension in the air was thick, both of you still riding the adrenaline, but there was something else there, too. Woonhak turned to you, his face lit up by the soft glow of the streetlights. His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, the playful edge in his expression was replaced with something more genuine. He took a step closer, his gaze softening.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, his voice low but reassuring, as he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered there for a moment, gentle and warm. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. You wanted to ask more questions, to figure out what exactly was happening between you two, but when his eyes stayed on yours like that, all you could think about was the way his warmth felt, the way he was so close and yet so careful.

“But... why?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “Why do you care so much? I’m just... a normal person.”

Woonhak’s playful grin faltered for a moment, and his hand stayed close to your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw softly. His voice was quieter this time, more honest, and without his usual cheerful tone. “Because... I don’t want to lose you.” His words were raw, sincere, and they made your chest tighten. “I don’t know when it happened, or why... but I think I’m falling for you.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. “Woonhak...” you whispered, barely able to process what you were hearing. The world seemed to slow down as his gaze deepened, and you saw something in him you hadn’t realized before—vulnerability, a hint of fear, but something else, too. Something real.

He closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your face as he leaned in just a little closer. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, and his smile returned, though this time it was softer, warmer. “Sorry if I’m getting too close,” he murmured, his voice a little teasing but filled with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “But I just... can’t help it.”

You felt the warmth of his body, the pull of his presence, and in that moment, you knew. You knew that, despite all the danger surrounding you, you were willing to take the leap with him.

“I don’t know how to feel,” you admitted softly, your heart racing. But deep down, you could already feel what your heart was telling you. “But... I don’t want to lose you either.”

Woonhak’s smile softened into something genuine, the lightness of his usual demeanour blending with a quiet intensity. “Then we’ll fight together,” he said, his voice filled with determination and warmth. “We’ll face everything, you and me. Together.”

@coriihanniee ☁️

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

perm taglist : @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @8makes1atom @s0shroe @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @mydeepestsecrects @brownetry @pumpkg @heeheesang @jungwonbropls

[kaiyunsim]

Off Script — chapter 15 : SIMP

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a/n : BRINGING IT BACK RN !!! long chapter for u guys and hoping for updates weekly :) also sorry if i missed anyone on the taglist :[ it's been forever since an update.

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taglist (open !) : comment or send an ask to be added !

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[only4riwoo]

thinking about selective mutism leehan who finally speaks to you when he feels completely comfortable around you<3

genre fluff cw none! other than mutism, there's nothing else note was kinda just gatekeeping this ask.. pls dont kill me.

Selectively mute leehan would..

he definitely communicates with facial expressions, meaning he's like an open book

shy and timid

avoids eye contact whenever you look/talk to him

when he finally gets comfortable enough to speak it's like a miracle

his voice startles you at first, the deep octave of it catching you by surprise

he mainly felt comfortable because of your shared love for fish and the ocean but also because you treat him like he's gonna break if treated too roughly

he's a sucker for subtle touches and hugs

100% just hugs you as a replacement for saying 'i love you'

the more he talks, the more he allows you to see him in another light

the moment he gets comfortable with you he's turns yappatron3000

absolute sweetheart loverboy. even when he chooses he doesnt want to talk, he's still attentive

he cries easily, especially when under pressure

[ilysungho]

to be honest, i can't stop thinking about dom!jaehyun × virgin!reader.

we've been known that jaehyun is made from boyfriend material through and through, and if you were to be in a relationship with him he'd be the softest most caring boy, always making sure you're comfortable.

he'd know you are a virgin, it was only fair for you to tell him that you weren't ready to go all the way with someone before he comitted to you, but he couldn't care less. he'd be so busy loving you that being intimate with you would honesty slip his mind most of the time.

that's why when one night, when messy kissing turned into making out, turned into hands roaming all over one another (clinging to whatever skin is at the reach of each others' fingertips) turned to you softly moaning against the shell of his ear suddenly turned into you telling him that you want to take him. fully. he loses his mind.

it's almost as if it all the pent up desire he had carried since the start of your relationship (unbeknownst to himself) awakens, and he can't do anything besides comply.

to me, he reads as the type of boy who'd be in love with the idea of being the first to have you, to mold your mind and the way you experience your sexuality into the perfect match for his own preferences. he'd be so eager to teach you everything, his chest filling with pride the moment your hips clash against his own following the rythm he had set up even when his hands are busy worshiping your perfect breasts.

and don't even get me started on how feral he'd get after seeing your perfectly carved body laying under his own, panting, skin shiny because of how sweaty you'd be, yes, but also because of the thick layer of cum covering your belly and pooling around your navel.

this is kind of senseless word vomit, i just think that your first time with myungjae would be so soft yet so full of lust, and i'd love to know YOUR take on it (duh, i wouldn't be asking you if i didn't). i just need someone to validate me and my softdom!myungjae agenda.

p.s: can i be ⭐️ anon? because i have the feeling that i'm going to be sending asks here often

i’m going to be so honest. i’ve been gatekeeping this because it’s so beautifully written but i also don’t want to keep it in my asks for too long because i want you to know that i’ve seen this! and yes of course you can be star anon! and omg, this did not feel like word vomit at all!! i loveeee how you wrote this out… tugging at my heart strings because even without specific details, the whole idea of what you’re saying sounds so perfectly him. i’m excited to see more from you love 💗 my thoughts will be under the cut! i hope you enjoy~

softdom!jaehyun is nothing but kind and thoughtful. since the beginning of the relationship, he’s only ever been doing everything that’s within your comfort level, never pushing for more than what you want. there’s be times when he does get needy with you, but he keeps it to himself pretty well. he knows he has to be patient to get more than just making out with you, yet he can’t help but feel guilty when he’s masturbating to your pictures alone in his room. they’d be perfectly innocent ones too, pictures of yourself smiling while having ice cream, giggling as your friend takes a pic of you, etc. he notices every part of you through those pictures, and also while you stay put beside him with lips interlocked. his hand would softly hover over your waist before being placed there gently, and he would pull you closer to his body. still, he would hesitate to bring you as close as he truly wants you to be.

the type of love he shows is so pure and full of romance that even the smallest gestures have to be grandly laid out according to him. the idea of taking your virginity came with numerous plans on how to do so in a perfect manner, one that you would remember for a lifetime. but when you ask him for more… and more… and more… ally eh planning goes down the drain as he is asking you if you’re absolutely sure you want it. he can’t wait either until he enacts one of the many occasions, so he’s grateful you’re asking him now. but he would still do the very gentlemanly things: taking you to the bed, slowly undressing you while loving your body, constantly asking for what’s good and to tell him when you like it…. jaehyun’s only goal is to have you enjoy the process as his fingers trace your slit, the other hand caressing your hair as he speaks calmly. “is this good love?” “tell me if it hurts ok? i don’t want to do that to you.” “you’re such a darling princess, so beautiful like this.” his focus is solely on you as you respond to him in a small yet jittery voice. and he would notice that, taking your lips with his once again to distract you from any nervosity building up. soft smacks of your lips would accompany the sound of his fingers rubbing you slowly yet throughly. he would only let go to let you both catch your breath until you grab his shoulders and just stare at him, biting the bruised skin. his tender smile and loving eyes work together to just tell you to relax, to just let him do all the work. he promises to make you feel good.

after you release through just fingering though, jaehyun gets serious again, asking you for the umpteenth time whether you’re positive you’re ready. and as you come down from your high, all you can do is look at him and nod, a whimper of a yes barely escaping as he gets a condom out of his wallet. he’s finally putting it to use after waiting for so long, and he looks incredibly needy now. he could satiate a smidge of your hunger, but his is far more immense. he knows what it feels like to have sex, and he’s done it a good amount of times before meeting and dating you. but he’s been waiting too long to have a taste of you, and he fears that he too won’t be the same after being your first. everything has him excited as he puts on the condom, adjusting it so he is comfortable enough before pushing into you slowly. you just bite you lip a bit harder as you watch and feel him enter into you, effectively stretching you out. it hurts, and you knew it would hurt, but jaehyun did everything he could to minimize the pain so that you would feel the pleasure surge through you. high pitched whines and teary eyes grace his ears and eyes as he bend down slowly to cup your face. his thumb wipes away the tears forming, questions once again being asked so he knows how you're feeling and acts accordingly.

overall, jaehyun's attempt at making you feel full of love despite it being your time is a very good success, and he's going to be thinking about every motion, every notion, every reaction. he's going to be thinking about it all, impatience running through as he always is thinking about what he can get you used to, to shape you into the perfect one for him in every way possible. he wants to make sure that all your firsts with him are unforgettable, just as he is to your life.

[deer-hunter]

SUNGHO: seethru (cover film)

[tanghuyuj]

we get, the same! a woonhak smau

#20 - WOONHAK FIRST WIN

synopsis: it’s the start of the new school year and you’re not excited whatsoever. though, your classmate and desk partner, kim woonhak, is beyond excited. you two evidently don’t get along well, bickering left and right. but when you begin to notice small details that woonhak does for you and it seems as if your whole school is just waiting for you to get together, you start to spiral.

warnings: none i think..?

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maia’s note: the update on sunday might be a bit late bc i’m not sure if i’m gonna have reception but i’ll def make sure to release the chapter (even if it’s on monday or smth). also the next final chaps r gonna be pretty long!! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated!! 🩵

taglist: @kekaekeke @mimimimiaa @s0shroe @mungbeancoups @molensworld @en-dream @kaiyunsim @httpenhoon @ranjupotato @cinnamonshuaa @pinklemonade34 @kazemiya @siekksjs @sirenla @kittkyu @mensisim @livibbu @junhanism @enzstr @thea-herondale @i03jae @sionshiii @helpsplease @yurisblooming @defnotsanni @haechology @janjoonty @petralovesbonedo @anormieee @nineooooo @oowir @luvkwh @skibidihan @mbella607 @stantxtforabetterlife @midnight-rain-pdf @massiveunicorn6969 @bambisnc @mymelodyfanatic @slowlylefttyphoon @hrtleehan @ribbeoms @winteringdream / @kstrucknet (taglist: open! in white = cannot be tagged).

[gyurilla]

if i say i love you - WHO IS THAT GUY [disdain]

pairing: riwoo x afab!reader

synopsis: riwoo accidentally retweets one of your old posts, thinking he’s on his spam account. he quickly deletes it, but your friend manages to screenshot it before it’s gone. you play it cool, acting like it was no big deal—pretending you haven’t secretly had a crush on him for years and thinking it was just a harmless mistake. but riwoo knows it wasn’t a mistake

genre: slow burn, mutual crush, angst?, fluff, humor, smau & half written, non idols, university au

taglist (open) - comment to be added (dont be shy!) @pinkiwinkiminki @banez @oowir @viesin @nujeskz @torkorpse @coffee-addict-kitten @8makes1atom @tempewra @jungwonbropls @janjoonty @uncasings @Ivlyhiyyih

contains: weirdo guy, swearing

half written wc: 282 i believe..

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———

woonhak’s eyes narrowed as he quickened his pace, his gaze fixed on the guy's hand resting on your shoulder. he could see the discomfort etched on your face, your eyes darting around, searching for an escape.

as he approached, his voice was calm but firm, "yn!!." he said your name happily, a warm smile on his face but his tone was an underlying possessiveness that made the guy's eyes flicker towards him.

the guy's hand hesitated, then dropped from your shoulder as woonhak stepped closer, his presence commanding attention. "who’s this?" woonhak asked, “you always introduce me to your friends..” he pouted

the random guy looked taken aback, his expression turned annoyed, “uh well we just met, who are you?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation

woonhak kept smiling at the guy, “he’s my little brother” you replied, hoping the guy would get the hint.

woonhak stepped forward, his tone firm but courteous. "it’s really nice to meet you, but you've obviously made my sister uncomfortable. can you respect her personal space." his words were polite, but his eyes conveyed a clear warning.

the guy's expression turned sheepish, realizing he'd overstepped. "sorry, i didn't mean to make her uncomfortable," he muttered, taking a step back. "i’ll leave you guys alone."

“appreciate it," woonhak said, his tone friendly but firm.

as the guy walked away, woonhak turned to you, concern etched on his face. "you okay yn?” he asked softly.

you nodded, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards woonhak. "yeah, thanks woon, i owe you," you replied, smiling up at him.

“of course yn” he smiled at you

——

— a/n: two chapters yay, sorta long too but i wont post till saturday so i guess this makes up for it, right? thank you so much for the support on my smau, i love reading the reblogs and seeing the tags and what you guys say about it, it makes me happy and i have notfi's on so i see EVERYTHING :3

reblogs and likes are ALWAYS appreciated, i love u all and have a great week!!

[wishtual]

BOYNEXTDOOR: COLLECTED BOOK VOL.2

[skibidihan]

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COMPLETE MESS ! what could possibly happen when a popular actor such as hong y/n gets casted along with famous idol han taesan to star in a bl together?

author’s note! so sorry i dipped for a while, lowkey struggling with how im going with this smau, but ty for being patient! i lowk dislike this chapter, sorry if its lame! 💔

TAGLIST. open! @enhaas @starchasing-cryptid @academiq @lavendersloane @sol3chu @pinklemonade34 @conwunder @kultureishere @planetmarlowe @doraemiz @pumpkg @janjoonty @domfikeluva @dobbiesvvorld @kekaekeke @enzstr @mimimiloomeelomi @cheeseohb1scuit @jungwonbropls

© skibidihan.

[neomujinjja]

사랑을 공부해 oh-oh Meet KOZ' campus couples

Pairing: bnd legal line x reader

Genre: fluff, college au!, established relationship in sungho, riwoo, and leehans – stranger 2 lovers in taesan's - friends in love in myung jae's

Warning: mention of marriage in sungho's, people being weird in everyone's but myungjae's

Jaehyun

you guys aren't dating

but the feelings are there

and it's mutal too

yall are just cowards! (lovingly)

but everybody believes that you & jae are dating

and you guys arent exactly fighting the rumors

the two of you are very affecionate friends

often holding hands in public

jaehyun is always exicted to see you

it does not matter if yall saw each other 5 minutes ago

he's calling out your name

picking you up in a big hug

i see why people think you're dating..

plus if someone dares to ask

then you guys just turn into blushing messes

fighting back a grin at the thought

or giggling before asking if people really think that

so you don't even answer the question tbh

pls im begging yall to confess!

put everyone around you out of their misery!!

Sungho

you guys are dating

everybody who attends KOZ knows the two of you

and with that: they all know you're a couple

tbh you guys are very well-loved by the campus

lowkey there's a fanclub for you guys

actually it's more of an y/nsungho defense club

keeping "home-wreckers" away from y'all

letting them know you're in a relationship

which would be inevitably be mentioned anyways

because y'all are in love

without being obnoxious about it though

and you guys love to talk about one another to new people

y'all are a very friendly couple

plus both of you are involved with the campus

sungho peforms at multiple school events

and you're apart of the college committee

yall are the couple that people envy

there's high expectations of you two getting married

Riwoo

tbh y'all are confused

yes, you're dating

but because you guys are introverts

you don't talk to anyone outside of your friend group

it all started from the school page / social media

or if you watch queer love dramas

kind of like the cute boy pages in them

someone kept catching y'all in the background of photos

people started to notice

and they went insane over the two of you

sure the camera never captured your faces

but that wasn't the point to the people

it was how y'all were always matching!

sometimes it would be matching outfits

and if not then y'all's matching keychains/items

no one knows your faces though

which means no one really recognizes you guys on the campus

so there's a semi-sense of privacy

Taesan

let me start this off by saying

yall are not dating!

and more importantly

you guys dont even know each other

i'd go as far as to say that neither of you know the other's names

so in reality: its more of an popular campus ship rather campus couple

your friends' #1 theory is that its because you're both somewhat emo

being an cc(?) is how yall meet

expect it quickly turns to private meetings

because people get weird about the two of you being in public together

getting to know him

you think taesan is kind of charming

he wins you over in this secret meet-ups

and vice versa

maybe this little ship isn't as bad as you orginially thought

heck you got an boyfriend out of it

peers go insane at the "official annoucement"

which is just some photo or story of the two of you from some friend's social

because we all know that yall have private accounts

Leehan

im not sure how yall became an campus couple

while you guys do know each other

you dont go to the same school ㅠㅠ

plus no one (outside of your frined group) is even sure if you're actually dating each other

i fully believe neither of you post on social media

and your friends are just as goofy

because they wont confirm or deny

it makes it so hard to fact check

so let me clarify first

you guys grew up as childhood friends

but recently started dating

and you guys are so cute~

you know those long distance bracelets

best believe y'all have those

the vibrations from leehan pressing it lowkey makes your wrist twitch

hopefully for you, you don't have it placed on your dominant hand

you have an set time to video call every night

it's well known thing by kind of everyone

so much so they schedule events around it

plus despite not attending the same school

yall often meet up with each other (best as you can)

with some of sort of gift in hand

and long weekends spent in each others dorm

no studying is getting done when y'all are together

as devastating as it is

you guys can not see each other during exam weeks

[lee-sanghyeok]

RIWOO : " SEETHRU " BY PRIMARY FT. ZION.T & GAEKO

[winteringdream]

MY BOYFRIEND ! ──── lee riwoo

✩ ⋅ pairing. lee riwoo x gn!reader ✩ ⋅ genre. fluff, headcanons ✩ ⋅ warnings. none! ✩ ⋅ wc. 1k-ish ✩ ⋅ a/n. other bnd members ver. coming soon! i have a few drafts written already!

BOYFRIEND RIWOO WHO WOULD ... softly hum a song he knows you love when you’re falling asleep.

You’re barely awake, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness, when you hear it. Riwoo's voice, soft and familiar. A quiet hum, just above a whisper.

The melody is one you’ve played on repeat, a song you once mentioned as your favorite.

Your head rests against Riwoo’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re still awake. He just keeps humming, slow and soothing, like he’s trying to sing you into deeper sleep.

You don’t open your eyes, but you shift closer, curling slightly against him. His hand, which had been resting beside you, moves just the slightest bit, his fingers brushing against yours.

For a moment, you think about staying awake, about saying something. But instead, you exhale, letting the sound of his voice carry you to sleep.

BOYFRIEND RIWOO WHO WOULD ... pretend to be asleep on your lap so you won’t move away.

You shift slightly, Riwoo has been resting his head in your lap for the past twenty minutes, eyes shut, breathing slow and even.

At first, you didn’t mind, he had flopped down claiming he was tired, and you had absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. But now, your legs are starting to go numb.

“Riwoo,” you murmur, nudging his shoulder lightly. “You should move.”

No response.

“I know you’re awake.” you sigh, adjusting your position carefully.

Still nothing. His breathing remains perfectly even, but you know him too well. The way his fingers twitch slightly against your knee, the way his lips are pressed together like he’s holding back a smile. It’s obvious.

Suspicious, you lean down slightly. “If you don’t move, I’m going to-”

His lips suddenly curve up into the tiniest smirk.

“Riwoo,” you deadpan, flicking his forehead lightly.

He finally cracks an eye open, amused. “Mm. Too comfortable,” he mumbles.

“You were awake the whole time?” you accuse, crossing your arms.

He hums, completely unbothered. “You were playing with my hair.”

Riwoo, as if sensing his victory, peeks up at you with a lazy and satisfied expression. “You’re not actually mad, right?” he murmurs, voice slow and teasing.

You groan, throwing your head back. “You’re the worst.”

But your fingers return to his hair anyway, and once again he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment..

BOYFRIEND RIWOO WHO WOULD ... fix your scarf without a word when it gets loose in the wind.

You don’t think much of the cold at first, too busy tucking your hands into your sleeves, but then you feel it: your scarf slipping loose, the cold sneaking in through the gap.

Before you can adjust it, Riwoo moves.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even pause in his steps. He simply reaches out, catching the fabric before it can fall completely.

He tugs it back into place, wrapping it snugly around your neck. His fingers are warm against your skin.

His hands retreat into his pockets like nothing happened.

You glance at him, but he’s already looking ahead, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Thanks,” you murmur, voice barely above the wind.

Riwoo doesn’t respond, but his hand drifts just slightly closer to yours. And as you walk together through the cold, you think you don’t really mind the winter that much. Not when he’s here.

BOYFRIEND RIWOO WHO WOULD ... out of nowhere make wordplay jokes to flirt with you.

You’re sitting across from Riwoo at a café, stirring your drink while scrolling through your phone.

“Are you a keyboard?”

You blink, glancing up. Riwoo’s watching you, a mischievous expression on his face, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“What?” you ask, already suspicious.

He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Because you’re just my type.”

You stare at him. For a second, neither of you move. Then, he cracks a small grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“That was terrible.” you laugh, punching his arm.

“Mm.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “But you laughed.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, but there’s no stopping the warmth creeping onto your face. He notices, because Riwoo always notices how you react to his jokes.

And as he leans back, looking far too pleased with himself, you know he’s definitely not letting this go anytime soon.

BOYFRIEND RIWOO WHO WOULD ... refuse to let go of your hand when you try to leave, just to tease you.

You stand up, stretching your legs after sitting for too long. “Alright, I should get going.”

Riwoo, still laying comfortably in his seat, barely glances up.

You take a step toward the door. Or at least, you try to, except there’s a sudden resistance. You look down and realize Riwoo’s fingers are wrapped loosely around your wrist, holding you in place.

“Riwoo.” You give him a look. He looks up at you lazily, his grip light but firm. “No.”

“I have to go.” you sigh, but you can't seem to hide the smile creeping up your face. He looks like a kid who doesn't want you to leave.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You could stay.” he hums, tilting his head slightly.

“Give me one good reason.”

Riwoo pauses, then his lips curve into a small, knowing smirk. “Because I’m clingy,” he replies.

You let out a small chuckle. “You? Clingy?”

“Mhm.” He tugs your hand just slightly, enough to make you stumble a step closer. “But only with you.”

Your face heats up before you can stop it, and Riwoo notices immediately.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, amused and fond.

“Fine,” you mutter, dropping back into your seat with a huff. “Ten more minutes.”

Riwoo smiles triumphantly, quickly shifting his position so he can hug you.

bonedo taglist: @ihruaz

[eunandonly]

FAKE DATING WITH BOYNEXTDOOR

fake dating boynextdoor was easy–until it started feeling real

( 対 ) boynextdoor + fem. reader 1477WC · fake dating trope contains! fake dating, skinship, language / archive

은 : i'm going to try my best to be a bit more active on blr now that i'm on spring break >< i hope you guys enjoy this fic!! ily <3

myung jaehyun 

when you ask myung jaehyun to fake date, he agrees to it immediately, flashing you that signature smirk. it almost worries you when you see the grin. you know he’s up to absolutely no good.

he treats it like a game at first, but you find the way he slips into the role so effortlessly almost unnerving. he throws his arm over your shoulder in public, calling you “babe” without hesitation and teases you whenever you get flustered. 

“you’re blushing,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear as you try to keep your face neutral. “are you falling for me already?”

cocky bastard.

jaehyun finds your reactions entertaining, but there’s a strange possessiveness in the way he glares at anyone who talks to you, or looks at you a bit too long. he nearly punches a guy trying to get your phone number, and when you call him out, he just shrugs, claiming that it “needs to be convincing.”

he takes you by surprise by remembering little things about you, how you take your coffee, your favourite snack. he brushes it off with a casual “a boyfriend would do this.” 

but the longer this goes on, the less it feels fake. you catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, his teasing flirty remarks losing its playfulness. 

“you know,” he says one day, his voice softer than usual. “i think I might've forgotten to pretend.”

park sungho

sungho hesitates when you first tell him your idea. you tell him it’s a great idea; fake dating so that you can get your ex boyfriend back, and he can get back his ex girlfriend. killing two birds with one stone, you say. sungho’s not too sure, but he gives in after some begging from your side.

sungho isn’t sure why, but the thought of pretending to be your boyfriend makes him unreasonably nervous. 

at first, he’s awkward–stuttering over pet names, clearing his throat when you hold his hand. but he still finds himself holding doors open for you, carrying your things without being asked, offering you his jacket when the weather gets chilly. the first time you kiss him, it’s on the cheek, and sungho practically freezes, ears tomato red as he tries his best to avoid your gaze. 

“we should practice more,” he says out of the blue one day. “it needs to be convincing.”

you’re quick to tell him that you’re already being convincing, that it’s him that’s the problem.

sungho’s careful with boundaries, always asking, ‘is this okay?” before touching you in any way. but then things start shifting, there’s no denying it. he texts you good morning without thinking, lingers a little too long after fixing your scarf, gets defensive when someone asks about your relationship. 

park sungho doesn’t realise he’s falling until it’s too late.

“i don’t want this to be fake anymore,” he says one night, standing outside your door whilst fidgeting with his sleeves. “forget about my ex, i want you.”

lee sanghyuk

riwoo finds the whole situation really fucking funny. 

“fake dating? how desperately do you want that asshole back? yeah, i’ll do it, it’s gonna be so fun.”

yeah well, it's fun. for him.

from the moment you two announce your “relationship”, he plays it up like you’re in some kind of terribly cliche, terribly cheesy romance movie, throwing dramatic love confessions at random.

“my love, i would walk through fire for you!” he declares loudly in the school hallway, before snickering as you try your best to do damage control to no avail. 

riwoo’s constantly teasing, winking at you in class and whispering stupid things like, “careful, you might actually fall for me.” just to see your face redden in embarrassment. but then there are moments when he tones it down, and it’s a bit too natural–the way he rests his head on your shoulder when he’s tired, or the way his hand absentmindedly finds yours.

“why’re you blushing?” he teases, but he’s blushing too. 

the problem is, he never knows himself when he’s joking and when he’s being serious. he tells himself it’s just an act, just a way for you to get back your dickhead boyfriend who looks like a two out of ten. but he finds his heart stuttering when you look at him just right. 

and soon, riwoo finds himself wishing the act would never end. 

one day he turns to you, his usual stupid grin plastered on his face, but there’s something softer behind it. 

“so, uh, what if we didn’t stop fake dating?”

han dongmin

when you ask han taesan to be your fake boyfriend to make you ex jealous, he barely reacts. barely even raises his head, murmuring, “sure,” as if you just asked him to pass the salt. 

annoying little bitch.

but beneath his cool, nonchalant exterior (that’s what he thinks), his mind is racing.

he’s not the person for over-the-type gestures, but he shows affection in the smallest ways–remembering your favourite drink order, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, pulling you closer when walking near traffic. you applaud his for being boyfriend material and make a point to very loudly wonder why he’s never had a girlfriend before remembering, aha, his personality is shit.

han taesan insists he doesn’t care about pda, but if someone questions your relationship, he’ll kiss your cheek without a second thought. 

“see? believable.” he says, ignoring the way his heart is pounding. he does it so naturally that even he forgets it’s fake sometimes. he texts you late at night to check if you’ve eaten and gets irritated when other guys get too close. but taesan’s stubborn, and he spends most of his time gaslighting himself that he doesn’t like you like that, brushing it off as just an act. 

then one day, he catches himself staring, thinking how you look a little bit too pretty, hands itching to reach for yours. 

“you said i’m boyfriend material, right?” he asks, catching you by surprise.

“yeah sure.”

“ok, well how about you give up on your shitty ex and we date for real? i’m like, hotter than him too.”

kim donghyun

leehan takes the whole fake dating thing very, very seriously. when you tell him about your ideas, he looks more determined than you, face serious as he says, “if we’re going to do this, we really have to sell it.” you end up having to ask him if he has an ex girlfriend he wants back, because there’s no way he should be this invested in the whole plan.

he makes you practice with him; holding hands, casual touches, so it looks natural. but the more you two practice, the more it starts feeling real. he’s always respectful, never crossing boundaries and always asking if you’re comfortable. but he’s a little too good at being a boyfriend. he ties your shoelaces when they come undone, carries your bag without you asking and smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache. 

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask one day when you catch him staring at you in the restaurant on one of your fake dates. 

leehan just grins. “because you’re cute.”

it’s moments like these that make you forget this isn’t real. but then he starts getting flustered–hesitating before calling you pet names, looking away too quickly when you catch him staring. he’s the first to realise his feelings, but it takes him forever to act on them.

one evening, he exhales deeply before turning to you. “so… what if we kept dating?” he asks, nervous but hopeful. “for real this time?”

kim woonhak

woonhak is way too excited to date you. yeah, it’s fake, but he’s still technically dating you. he’s already planning out cute couple photos. 

woonhak fully commits, calling you cute nicknames, being your personal hype boy, and practically beaming with excitement when you’re around.

you think he’s kind of cute.

“this is my girlfriend,” woonhak announces to everyone, holding your hand. “she’s so pretty isn’t she? yeah, well she’s super smart as well, and-”

he’s affectionate without realising–holding your hand, fixing your hair, resting his chin on your shoulder. it’s all a joke to him at first, but then he starts feeling weird.

why does his heart race when you smile at him? why does he hate seeing other people flirt with you?

“i’m not jealous,” he insists, but his pout says otherwise. 

one day, you joke about breaking up just to see his reaction, and he gasps dramatically.

“if we ‘break up, i’m keeping the dog we don’t have.” 

but behind the playful tone, there’s real fear. he’s known for a while now, this isn’t fake to him anymore. one evening, as you’re walking home together, he suddenly blurts out, “wait, you didn’t know? i fell for you ages ago.”

[ilysungho]

pls indulge me in my thoughts i'm actually going insane

thinking about late night sex with taesan where everything just blurs together- the feeling of him getting hard inside of u as u milk him over and over, till your own cunt is puffy and dripping with his cum. his hands are all over you and his lips have been ravishing yours for the last two hours. unlike his usual teasing self, he's quiet. maybe because he's so focused on making you cum multiple times, or maybe its because the way your walls grip him and suck him in to the hilt has his head spinning and his heart pounding.

lord...

nonnie... this is practically perfect the way you've written it... what am i if not a mere vessel to help you express your thoughts omg i want to hear more of what YOU have to say eeekkk but your wish is my command! i'll try my best to expand <3 this is more so how i think it would begin! lmk what you think lovely!

it would start off by him waking up in the middle of the night, pressed against you. his tired voice would plead you to wake up, messy kisses placed against your exposed neck as his fingers reach over to slip into your panties. a whimper from you would make him moan, a sign that you're just as needy as he is. if he was more awake, then he would've done things properly: the usual way of kissing you on his lap, taking things slow as he removes each piece of clothing from you delicately as you squirmed under his touch. but no, he was too desperate for that. unable to kiss your lips properly, he would switch positions to get on top of you properly as he takes his hard length out to push into your now wet cunt. your panties pushed to the side as he's pumping in and out of you in an irregular pace, lips latched onto yours and biting for more. his free hand that's not aiding in pulling aside the skimpy cloth is reaching under your clothes to his best to remove them one-handedly. but he just can't think straight when he's snugly fit in between your walls, squelching in and out. the wet sounds only make him more desperate as he moans so much more than usual. you, sensing his need for help, try to help him with undressing the two of you. it's a bit better than just his single hand doing all the work as he's thrusting in and out of you sporadically, but the drowsiness still stays from just having woken up to this... but you love it, and he loves it too. you both wouldn't have it any other way as you spend the rest of the night until dawn in each others' presence, trying out different positions and what not, him drowning you in his cum as he drinks yours up like wine after a long night.