#Rhythm Boyz

[lyricsgoal]

Annhi Dea Mazaak Ae (Title Song) Lyrics - Ammy Virk

#AnnhiDeaMazaakAe #TitleSong #AmmyVirk

[inbloomaesthetics]

Kpop songs for the signs:

Sagittarius

The Stealer by THE BOYZ

Uh-Oh by (G)I-DLE

FEVER by ENHYPEN

GoGoBebe by Mamamoo

RHYTHM TA by iKON

Next Level by aespa

[silverselfshippingchaos]

sometimes I remember that all my fankids are technically half-indian and I start imagining them doing shit like this together

[britishhiphop]

Three Wize Men - G.B. Boyz [Audio]

This is the fortieth in a series of posts celebrating some classic albums from early pioneers of UK Hip Hop. Three Wize Men was a British Hip Hop group from Peckham that emerged in the late 1980s, known for their unique blend of conscious lyrics and innovative production techniques. The group consisted of Jemski “J”, the rapper and producer, AJ, and Wild Danny “D”, who contributed to the group’s…

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 7 — MONSTERFUCKING/DRAGONCOCK

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — dan heng, boothill, sunday

— warnings. — fem! reader, monsterfcking, size kink/size difference, needy boyz

⚝ — DAN HENG + dragon

dan heng was looking at you utterly enthralled—majestic in a way that almost feels untouchable or unable for you to grasp on. and ugh, he does have quite a bit of energy to burn, making himself get to work when he twists his fingers into your plump flesh, kneading your ass.

a much nicer detail was that his horns gleamed under the shadowed light in the bedroom, his tail flicking in a slow, deliberate rhythm as you rest your hands within his tousled hair, holding yourself close as dan heng pumps himself slowly at first, oh yes, quite sure of himself and trying to stretch your twitching, little cunt well enough in order for him to fit entirely.

the sheer beauty of the scales gathered on his chiseled body shimmer in a soft cascade of iridescence as they sought out to reflect in your tear-stricken eyes.

almost but not quite, only when he begins to pick up on pace, shifting his hips to find that spot which you've been aching for— making you feel like he embedded galaxies and trapped them beneath your skin, panting, moaning, growling at the things your milking cunt did to him.

and when his golden eyes meet yours full of lust, dan heng groans at the desperate squeezes and the tight contraction of your walls clamping for dear life— a quiet, steady kind of warmth seeping into your bones as his hands explore your body and pull you further into him.

he holds you, finding solace that despite his impossibly big size, you curl your back into him ever so slightly, like you trusted him wholly— your cunt melting within his shaft as his touch— when you allowed it, grew more desperate, his clawing hand brushing over your shoulder, fingertips ghosting over your wrist in passing as if he fears his strength might be too much.

⚝ — BOOTHILL + cyborg

despite the cold nature of his exterior, boothill's heart—if it could be called that— was as warm as any human's, if not more.

with a gentleness that contrasted his imposing presence, he leaned closer into your warm body, his hand, though metallic, tender as it cupped your cheek before he drove into you.

it's never boring with boothill, because you never know how he's about to handle you each night.

more gentle? or a little harder this time? do not be fooled, it always starts slowly, he doesn't want to actually induce any pain on your precious body, not when he was barely a human himself anymore, his frame long since altered to appear much different.

you bite your lip, urging yourself to fight back a desperate whimper as boothill strokes himself inside of you deeply, your slick long since smeared along the length of his hard, impossibly big cock— your skin shivering at the contrast of cold metal, warm touches, filthy kisses as you failed to keep quiet, your jaw dropping open from another blow rattling through your drained frame.

"feels so- so- good," you wince, squirming as much as you could, attempting to pull him in deeper by clasping your legs around his waist, "f-faster, please—."

your legs felt like jelly— and you knew damn well you won't last, but right now it's fucking insane. you give yourself to boothill as you're being spread open wide, while also being fucked stupid and satisfied, the blood ringing in your ears walking in unison with the fast blows of his hips connecting with your pulsing flesh.

⚝ — SUNDAY + monster

to your very pretty gaze, sunday looked like something out of an ancient legend, a being sculpted from the very essence of a myth which his beauty you'd tell children about before they'd head to sleep.

for outsiders the man might appear quite dangerous, although to you there was nothing terrifying about him.

not when you loved him so dearly.

beneath the guise of elegance and power, beneath the warm voice and charming smile, you were aware there was something else— something vast, unknowable, a presence that stretches beyond flesh, which sunday would show you a glimpse of whenever his scent and kisses lingered in ways your mind couldn't fully grasp on.

should you fear it? or him?

the emotions that he set free when he played with your chest to make you feel good, lapping at your erected nipples addictively, lapping and sucking until they pulse and ache— all for him to make your pussy throb and your thighs clench together in desperate hope for sunday to touch you there as well.

it's just so good when he did it, right?— despite him being so impossibly big and almost uncomfortable. yet the fullness, fuck, the heat, and sunday didn't really have the time to go all the way in yet, but you're definitely getting all of him soon.

the sneaky changes from teasing and slicking up into your pussy each next push was so fucking subtle that you couldn't pin point how he was able to be so good at this— you immediately succumbed to the pressure, how it kept getting better and better when there was a sudden moment when sunday slips in entirely, without warning, pressing his unbearably large shaft against your velvet walls as he gets past your ring of resistance, fucking you with ease.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mosviqu]

started watching kingdom bc i am losing it

[slytherinshua]

SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH

genre. fluff. warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread pairing. eric x fem!reader. wc. 951. request. no. a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it. net. @deoboyznet

“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”

You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…

As if.

“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.

“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.

“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.

“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s. 

“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.

“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.

“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing. 

“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.

“What if instead of walking—”

Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply. 

“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air. 

“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.

It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently. 

It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.

Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself. 

He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.

He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz

[27spoons]

It Takes Two To Love | Natalie Scatorccio

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: It's your one-year anniversary with Nat. You decide to give her a present she isn't expecting—a lap dance. Happy anniversary, Natalie.

request: I haven't watched Anora yet but I've watched a lot of her scenes on Tik Tok and I can't stop thinking about the scenario of doing a sensual dance for Nat just like Anora did for that guy😔✋️ Nat.exe has stopped working ( @theprismyyy )

wc: 1620

warnings: brief smut but it's mostly just foreplay, nat doesn't know wtf is going on

a/n: i still haven't seen anora, either. whoops

"Told you to stay sitting, Natalie." You say from behind her as she fidgets restlessly, "I told you that the surprise would be worth the wait, didn't I?" You gently place your hands on her shoulders, and she practically jumps from her wooden chair at the sensation. "Something's are worth the wait."

"You know I hate surprises," Nat mumbles, fighting every urge in her that screams TURN AROUND. "I know it's our anniversary, but you know—"

You squeeze down on her shoulders, and she stops talking, albeit petulantly. "Mm. Good." 

Walking to the side of your bedroom, you press play on the mixtape you made specially for this night—something filled with songs you consider sexy—and make your way back over to her. 

Nat—for all that she is—is not a patient person. So, the longer you spend behind her, the more antsy she becomes. It doesn't help that Red Light Special by TLC is playing, so she has a vague idea of what is about to happen—but has no idea the extent of what you're about to do. 

So, her jaw drops when you finally walk in front of her, wearing the nicest set of underwear (some black Calvin Klein's) you own. Her eyes don't seem to know where to go, flashing from your chest, to your legs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your neck, and then repeating the path. "Oh." She finally manages to croak out, hands gripping the chair seat so tightly you worry the wood will splinter. 

"Oh?" You parrot, grinning as you approach her slowly, trying your hardest to move in time to the music. "Natalie Scatorccio out of words? How rare. She always has something to say." When you finally reach the chair, Nat parts her legs instinctively to accommodate you standing between them, her jaw still slack. "It's actually kinda cute, really. All I had to do was act a little sexy, and you went brainless." 

You let out a soft chuckle, watching her flustered state with amusement. "I didn't think you'd lose your words so easily, Nat." You tease, brushing a finger lightly against her cheek, just enough to make it tickle. Her grip on the chair tightens again, knuckles pale against the cherry wood. 

You let the moment linger, with your pointer finger lightly tracing the edge of her jaw as the slow beat of Red Light Special amplifies the tension. Nat's chest rises and falls with short, shallow breaths, trying so hard to keep herself composed in the face of something she's never come close to encountering before—but the anticipation is evident in her eyes. She wants.

With deliberate slowness, you take a step back, letting her eyes trace your shape in the dim lighting. Then, you sway your hips to the beat, a soft, sensual rhythm, before turning around and walking behind her once again. You can vaguely hear the sound of her breath catching, but you say nothing—letting the anticipation build further.

The song switches, I'll Make Love To You by Boyz II Men, filling the space of your bedroom. You approach her with the switch in songs, running your fingers up and down her arms for a few beats. "You're doing so well, Natalie." You whisper, voice low and teasing against her ear, "I think it's time for the real show, don't you?"

You swear you can hear her whimper, but she would never admit it, and you would never bring it up.

Slowly, you walk back in front of her in time to the beat, then drop to your knees—a move that sends Nat's heart rate into orbit, as if it wasn't already skyrocketing. Her eyes never leave you, tongue darting out to wet her lips on instinct. You position yourself carefully over her—close enough so that she can feel your body heat, but just stop short of contact.

When your hands find purchase on her knees, you slowly push yourself up, letting her get a tantalizing look at your cleavage. "You always want to give." You murmur as you roll your head back, exposing your neck to her hungry gaze, "I think it's your turn to receive, Nat."

Nat's hands twitch against where she grips the chair, and you can tell she's fighting the urge to reach out and grab you, not wanting to seem too desperate. "I, I, I mean…" She stammers, blinking rapidly as you raise back to your full height, standing over her. "You, you, seriously. You don't have to… uh…" But she seems to lose her train of thought as you move to straddle her waist, hands on her shoulders as you rock your body against hers to the music. 

"You can touch me, you know." You whisper breathily against her ear, "Hardly fun if your hands aren't all over me."

It's like she was just waiting for your words—because the second you're done speaking, her hands are greedily squeezing your hips. Her fingers press into the soft flesh there as you rock against her, your hands running up and down her chest as you move.

"Jesus Christ…" Nat mumbles, unsure where to keep her gaze as you move sensually to the beat. "You… shit. I…" Zero coherent thoughts remain in her head, her entire brain clouded with how you move on top of her, just for her. No one else gets you like this, meaning you practised this little routine just for her. "Oh, Jesus fuck…" 

You let out a low laugh, pressing yourself flush against her body when her hands drift to your ass, squeezing gratefully at the smooth skin. "Yeah, baby? Can't think of anything?" On the next chorus, you move your chest level to her face, just close enough so you can feel her breathing—which might just be panting at this point—against your breasts. "No thoughts inside that pretty little head of yours." You murmur as you push a hand through her hair, something which results in a sharp squeeze of your ass.

"Fuck, I don't… I just… I…" Yeah, you could say there are no thoughts inside her head, and you'd probably be right. With her face level to your chest and your hands in her hair, it's honestly a shock she isn't drooling. But when you rock yourself closer at the song switch, Nat can't help but bury her face in between your cleavage, groaning against your skin.

"Yeah, there you go." You grin, holding the back of her head as you continue to move to the beat, "This is for you, baby. Take what you need."

Nat moans against your chest at those words, hands kneading against the flesh of your ass greedily as her teeth come out to trace the edge of your bra. The scent of your perfume is even more prominent now, as is the smell of your skin, and it's intoxicating to the blonde underneath you.

With one hand tangled in her hair, you let the other roam across Nat's body—from her neck to her shoulders, then down her side as she remains with her head between your breasts, occasionally nipping at the soft flesh as the songs continue to play in the background.

"Come on, baby." You purr as you roll your hips against hers, "I know you've got more in you than that."

Nat lets out a low moan, hands moving back to your hips as she rocks against you. "God…" She breathes, head tilting to look up at you, "You… you're so pretty." Her eyes are wide and hungry as they gaze up at you, and at this moment, you know you've genuinely melted Natalie Scatorccio's brain.

She drags one of her palms from your hip to your knee, then to your stomach, her eyes now following the path her fingers are taking. "Can I?" She mumbles, fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. "I wanna… touch you."

You laugh warmly at that, moving the hand that was on her side to grab her wrist, encouraging it under the waistband of your panties. "I told you, baby. This is for you. Take what you need."

"Oh," Nat mumbles as her fingers slide past the elastic, "shit, yeah. I…" Her voice trails off the lower her hand goes, and once the pads of her fingers slide over your wetness, she has to bite back a small whimper. 

"Yeah, there you go." You grin down at her, feeling the pleasure from even the slightest touch, "It's all yours, baby. Take whatever you want. Whatever you need." Another roll of your hips into hers to punctuate your statement.

Nat lets out a soft gasp at the slick beneath her fingers, "Oh my God." She mumbles, hand stilling in surprise before resuming its previous task. "Oh my God." She repeats, her hips rocking up into yours again, "You feel so… oh my God…"

Another low laugh leaves your lips as you continue to move against her hand, "You like that? You like knowing how turned on I get for you, Nat?" You release her wrist and move your hand back to her shoulder, getting a better grip to aid in the movements of your hips. 

The blonde nods frantically, her free hand now gripping the meat of your thighs, nails biting into the flesh hard enough to leave small crescent marks in their wake. She watches you with wide, lust-blown eyes, transfixed and hypnotized by your every movement. "You're so fucking wet." She says in sheer awe, "I... holy shit."

The song switches again, and as it does, you lean down to brush your lips against her ear, "I am. And I think we have a long night ahead of us, Natalie."

Nat whimpers at your words.

It will be a long night, indeed.

a/n: do u guys know how weird it is watching lap dance videos for reference. sometimes writing is so weird. fucking googling the weirdest shit. sometimes i wonder if i'm on the fbi's radar (i'm not even american)

[winwintea]

wicked love

PAIRING ↬ non-idol!na jaemin x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ short lived-fluff, romance, TOXICITY, horror, thriller, supernatural, kinda unsettling, SOOO CREEPY, if bad why hot? au, oomfs pointed out this is kinda like wandavision and now i'm realizing it does so maybe wandavision au

WARNINGS ↬ horror, yandere!!! (read at your own risk!)

SUMMARY ↬ his love is perfect. but perfection comes with a price.

WORD COUNT ↬ 5.4k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ guys i think the voices are getting louder (ty to queens @yizhrt @peterm4rker @viasdreams and @polarisjisung for beta reading 🙏)

PLAYLIST ↬ rhinestone eyes - gorillaz; nightmares - the boyz; wicked love - yena; doll - gidle; the perfect girl - mareux

YOU NEEDED A FRESH START.

The train slows to a halt, the perfect little town laid out in front of your eyes. You step onto the platform, the scent of flowers filling the air. 

The town looks like a postcard-perfect town, almost like you’re staring at a travel brochure rather than the real thing. The cobblestone streets appear to be smoothed down over time. A few locals pass by, nodding at you with warm smiles. 

There’s something about this place. It feels timeless, almost, like it came straight out of your dreams. Maybe this will be home. Maybe it’s exactly the fresh start you need from your damaging past.

Your new apartment, right next to the main square, is perfect. Lace curtains sway gently in the breeze, creating a comfy atmosphere. You unpack your bags, starting to convince yourself this was the right move. A quieter life, far from the chaos you left behind.

The next morning, you walk into your new job at the café, a cute little shop with pastel walls and pastries that look too good to eat. Mrs. Kim, the owner, greets you with a smile that feels practiced but kind.

“Welcome, dear,” she says, her tone both warm and firm. “I can tell you’re nervous, but I have confidence you’ll fit in just fine. Everyone does.”

Encouraged by her kind words, you dive into the work, immersing yourself in the comforting rhythm of brewing coffee and arranging pastries. Simplicity is desperately needed.

Then the bell over the door chimes, and you glance up ready to greet your next customer. But what you see makes you freeze in place.

A man walks in with confidence, his dark eyes surveying the room before landing on you. His presence is drawing, his sharp cheekbones and warm smile seem to stand out in this quiet little town. For a moment, it feels like the entire café is holding its breath, waiting for him to order.

“Americano, please,” he says, his voice smooth but casual. His gaze doesn’t cease, even as you fumble slightly while writing his name on his drink. ‘Jaemin’. When you hand it to him, his fingers brush yours, sending an unexpected jolt through you.

“You’re new,” he states, not a question but an observation, his head tilted slightly as if he’s trying to read you.

You nod, flustered. “Just moved in yesterday.”

He continues to smile. “I’m happy to run into you then. Welcome.”

Instead of leaving, Jaemin takes a seat by the window, sipping his coffee while his attention drifts back and forth between you and the window. His gaze lingers just long enough to make your cheeks turn red. 

When your shift ends, you’re surprised to see him outside, leaning casually against the lamppost. The setting sun just adds to the beautiful sight right in front of you.

“I thought I’d walk you home,” his eyes steady, with some concern. “It’s getting late.”

The streets are quiet, and there doesn’t seem to be much danger present. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to decline. You nod, and he falls into step beside you.

As the two of you start to walk, he asks questions about you. How was your move, your life before this, what made you pick this town? He listens intently, hanging on to every word as though you’re the most fascinating person in the world. You tell him more than you planned to, and it isn’t until you see the intrigued look on his face that you realize how much you shared.

“What about you?” you ask, shifting the focus on him instead. “Have you been here long?”

“Long enough to know I was waiting for you.”

The line is so smooth it catches you off guard, and your face flushes as he laughs. His laugh is soft and such a pleasing sound that you realize you want to hear it again and again.

The next few weeks with Jaemin feel even more like a fairytale. He seems to appear everywhere. Waiting for you outside the café after your shifts, showing up with your favorite snacks and drinks, surprising you with gifts he claims “just made me think of you.”

One evening, he shows up at your door holding a bouquet of wildflowers. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you,” he says, handing them to you with a grin. “Thought you might need these.”

The flowers seem flawless and smell wonderful. You let him in your apartment, your heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness.

Over time, you notice how precise his attention is. He seems to know exactly what you need. When you mention being cold, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders without a word. When you casually mention a book you’ve been wanting to read ever since you saw it in the library, it shows up on your doorstep the next day with a small note attached to it.

One evening, he takes you to a small park outside of town. A picnic is already waiting. Jaemin is sitting there on a blanket waiting for you to arrive.

“How did you pull this off?” you ask, laughing as you sit down. “It’s like you read my mind.” Just a few days ago, you read a chapter in your book in which the two main characters had also gone on a similar date.

Jaemin grins as he pours you a glass of sparkling cider. “I just know you. That’s what love is, isn’t it? Knowing someone better than they know themselves.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, though you force a smile. You’re not sure why they unsettle you. It’s sweet, isn’t it? That he knows you so well?

As you sit together, Jaemin leans back on his elbows, watching you. “You’re perfect,” he says quietly. “I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s like... you’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

The intensity of his gaze makes you look away, your cheeks heating. But something in his tone feels too polished, almost like he’s practiced it. You brush it off, telling yourself you’re overthinking.

It’s when you go out in town together that you start to notice how people act around him.

At the bakery, Mrs. Kim’s hands tremble as she rings up his order. Her smile is forced, and she avoids looking him in the eye.

After you leave, you curiously ask Jaemin about that interaction, “Was that... normal? She seemed kind of scared of you.”

Jaemin shrugs, brushing it off. “She’s just shy. Some people are like that.”

You’re not convinced, Mrs. Kim never seemed shy when the two of you worked together. But his casual tone makes it hard to push, so you let it slide for now.

—

Later, at the market, a man accidentally bumps into Jaemin, knocking over a fruit display. The man’s face seems to pale as he stammers out apologies, frantically trying to fix the mess. Jaemin couldn’t control the scowl that emerged on his face, as the man scurried away.

You lean toward Jaemin, whispering, “It was just an accident. You don’t need to glare at him like that.”

Jaemin turns to you, smiling again. “I wasn’t glaring,” he says calmly. “People here are just... respectful. They know better than to be careless.”

The edge in his voice makes your stomach twist, but you’re unsure how to respond.

—

That evening, when he takes you back to your apartment, you decide to bring it up again. “Jaemin, do you notice how nervous people are around you? It’s like they’re scared of you or something.” 

Jaemin pauses, and for a split second, you swear that his image cracked before snapping back into place. “It’s not fear,” he says, his tone even. “It’s respect. People here understand boundaries. They treat each other the right way. Don’t you feel it? Safer, calmer, happier?”

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel like he’s waiting for you to agree. You nod slowly, though a part of you doesn’t want to. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just... different from what I’m used to.”

Jaemin steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s why you belong here,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “Somewhere where no one will ever hurt you again.”

The way he says it makes your breath hitch. They’re comforting, but there’s a weight to his words that leaves you uneasy.

—

Later that night, lying in bed, you replay the day’s events in your head—Mrs. Kim’s trembling hands, the man at the market, and the way Jaemin’s smiles sometimes feel too sharp, too practiced, too unsettling. You try to tell yourself it’s nothing, that you’re just adjusting to this new place, this new life, and a new relationship. But deep down, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have. Something about Jaemin and this town feels off. The cracks are starting to form.

It’s the little things at first.

The mirror above your dresser shatters without warning while you’re brushing your hair, splintering your reflection. You freeze, staring at your fragmented reflection. It almost looks like your face is splintering apart. You reach out, your hand hovering just inches from the broken surface. 

The door suddenly swings open, and Jaemin who was staying the night appears, his expression calm. “What happened?” He reaches out to stop your fingers from touching the broken glass.

“I don’t know.” you stammer. “It just… cracked. I didn’t even touch it” You shook your head, trying to process what you just saw. 

He steps forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he examines the mirror. “It’s probably old. I’ll get you a new one. Don’t worry about it.” But something about his tone that makes you feel like he’s brushing it off on purpose. 

Later, you catch him staring at the shattered mirror, his reflection fragmented into dozens of pieces.

—

The next time you’re at Jaemin’s house while walking through the hallway, you notice the wallpaper seemingly peeling at the edges. Stepping closer seems to reveal a dark surface beneath. Your fingers trace along the seam absentmindedly, curiosity getting the best of you. When you gently tug the loose edge, a chunk tears free, exposing the wood underneath. It was blackened and warped, as though it’s been rotting for years.

You stare at it, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. How could a house so immaculate have something like this hidden beneath its surface?

“What are you doing?”

You whirl around, the scrap of wallpaper still in your hand as you turn to face Jaemin in the hallway. He’s standing behind you, quiet and still. “It was already peeling,” you say quickly. “I just wanted to see what was underneath.”

His eyes flicker to the exposed wood, then back to you. For a split second, his face seems to literally crack almost like his face was supposedly ceramic, before mending itself together. “I’ll fix it. You don’t need to worry about things like this.”

He steps closer, gently taking the torn wallpaper from your hands. His touch is light and tender, but the air feels different now.

“You shouldn’t bother with things that aren’t important,” Jaemin says softly, his tone almost pleading. “Just focus on us. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

You nod, but as he turns away, you notice his grip on the torn wallpaper tighten, his knuckles whitening as he walks down the hall.

—

The cracks aren’t just in the walls or the mirrors. They’re in him, too, and maybe you weren’t hallucinating when you saw his skin actually crack.

One night, you’re sitting together in his living room, the fireplace filling the room with warmth. Jaemin’s hand is wrapped around yours, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles against your skin.

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve this. You. You’re too perfect for someone like me.”

You laugh softly, brushing off his words. “You’re being dramatic again.”

He looks at you then, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world spins. His eyes are dark, almost bottomless, and there’s something lurking there—something raw and desperate, as though he’s holding on to you with every ounce of his being. Jaemin’s voice trembles slightly. “I mean it. You don’t understand how much you matter to me. I can’t lose you.”

There’s an intensity in his words that makes your heart race, but not in the way it usually does. You try to look away, but his grip on your hand tightens, not painfully, but enough to make you pause.

Then his expression changes. His smile fades, and his face hardens. The cracks start to appear again, this time more obvious than before.

You pull your hand away slightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Jaemin. You don’t have to worry about that.”

His smile returns instantly, the cracks once again vanishing as though they had never been there. “I know. I just get... carried away sometimes.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but even as his lips brush your skin, the unease still lingers.

—

It gets worse after that. The cracks spread everywhere. Not just to the mirrors and walls, but to everything in the town. One night, the streetlight outside your building starts flickering which casts shadows across the pavement. The ground seems to ripple as if the cobblestones were water rather than stone. 

When you tell Jaemin about it, he dismisses it with that too-smooth tone you’ve come to dread.

“You’ve been working too much. You need to rest. You’re probably just really tired.”

But you know what you saw.

—

The tipping point comes when you’re alone at his house again. You’re standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, the edges of the glass framed by intricate gold. As you stare at your reflection, the surface begins to distort. Slowly, your features start stretching unnaturally, twisting your perception. You blink, and the image snaps back to normal.

But when you look closer, you realize your reflection isn’t blinking anymore. It’s staring at you, unblinking and unmoving, a faint smile curling at the corners of its lips.

“Stop looking so hard.”

You spin around to find Jaemin standing in the doorway, his eyes darker than usual.

He smiles at you faintly, “Some things aren’t meant to be questioned.”

His words echo in your mind long after he leaves the room. You stare at the mirror again, but this time, you don’t dare move closer.

The first argument starts late at night, the room dimly lit, with untouched plates of food between the two of you. Your frustration finally boils over after weeks of feeling watched, cornered, and controlled.

You stand up suddenly. “I need space, Jaemin. I can’t keep doing this.”

His smile vanishes, replaced by something unreadable. He leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, his gaze pierces through you. “Space? From me?”

You nod, your voice shaking. “Yes. From you, from... this. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. Everything’s too... perfect. It doesn’t feel real.”

For a moment, Jaemin says nothing. His jaw tightens, and his fingers drum against the table. When he finally speaks, his tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that sends a chill through you. “After everything I’ve done for you, you want to leave?”

“I’m not saying I’m leaving,” you start, trying to explain, “I’m just saying I need–”

He stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His voice rises, cutting you off. “You don’t need anything! I’ve given you everything! This town, this life, me... Isn’t that enough for you?”

You take a step back, started by his outburst. You can literally hear your heart pounding now. His sudden anger feels like a slap in the face, shattering the careful illusion of calm he’s always maintained. “You’re not listening to me, Jaemin. I never asked for this perfect little world you’ve created. I just wanted you.”

That seems to break something in him. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You need this. You need me. Without me, you’d be miserable. Lost.” He moves closer, his face contorting with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

You shake your head, tears blurring your vision. “No, Jaemin. That’s what you want me to believe.”

His expression darkens further, and for the first time, you see the cracks in his carefully constructed mask—the raw emotion, the fury barely contained beneath his flawless exterior. “Don’t do this. Don’t ruin everything. This is our paradise. Our dream.” His words come out frantic as if he’s trying to convince both you and himself.

“Paradise?” You step further back, your voice still firm. “This isn’t paradise, Jaemin. This is a prison.”

And that’s when Jaemin snaps.

“You don’t get it!” His voice is sharp as it rings through the house. “Paradise is only perfect if you don’t leave!”

The words crash over you, the weight of their meaning sinking into your chest. His voice echoes in your mind, melodic and haunting, like a line from a song you can’t escape.

“I am your paradise. Your dream. Everything you’ve ever wanted. Why can’t you just see that? Why can’t you just stay?” His voice breaks on the last word, and for a moment, you see something raw and vulnerable in his eyes. 

But then his expression hardens again, the desperation twisting into something darker and terrifying.

“I won’t let you ruin this,” he growls, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you won’t stay willingly, I’ll make sure you don’t leave. You’re mine, and nothing will ever change that.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in. “Jaemin... this isn’t love.”

The words seem to shatter him. His face contorts with rage, his hands slowly balling into fists at his sides. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare.”

You take another step back, your eyes darting toward the door, your instincts screaming at you to run. You’ve never felt this kind of fear before.

“You don’t understand. I am love. Everything else is broken, but I’m perfect. For you. For us.” The air between you is heavy, suffocating. Jaemin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes wild.

The words hang in the air, a chilling reminder that the man you thought you knew isn’t the man standing in front of you anymore. 

—

The morning after your argument, you decide to leave. You don’t even know where you’ll go—just that you need to get out of this suffocating place, away from Jaemin and his unnerving obsession.

You pack a small bag with trembling hands, glancing nervously out the window. The streets outside are eerily quiet, the friendliness of the town somehow feels more oppressive than ever.

As you step out of your apartment, your heart sinks. Jaemin is leaning casually against the streetlamp in front of your building, his hands in his pockets and his ever-perfect smile in place.

“Going somewhere, love?”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You force yourself to stay calm, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. “I need some time to myself.”

He tilts his head, studying you intently. “Time to yourself? That doesn’t sound like you. Where would you even go?”

The question catches you off guard. He’s right… you’ve never seen anything beyond this town. …Have you? You don’t even know if there is anything beyond this town. You’ve never ventured out of this town. You’ve lived here all your life. With Jaemin. Just Jaemin.

The thought sends a jolt through you. What is happening?

You shake it off, your voice firmer now. “Anywhere but here, Jaemin. I need to think.”

For a moment, his smile falters. But then it’s back, brighter than ever and more unsettling. “You don’t need to leave to think. Stay here. Let me help you.”

You shake your head, stepping past him, but his hand shoots out, gently grabbing your wrist–not harshly, but enough to stop you in place.

“Don’t do this, Y/N. You’ll regret it.”

You wrench your arm free and start walking, as your heart continues to pound in your chest. His voice follows you, soft and calm yet terrifyingly firm.

“You’ll be back. You always come back. You can never escape.”

—

The next few days are a nightmare. No matter where you go, Jaemin is there. You spot him in the café, sitting in the same seat he first approached you in, watching you with that same perfect smile. He’s waiting outside your apartment when you get home from work, leaning against the doorframe like he belongs there.

You even see him in places he shouldn’t be—on the other side of the street when you’re at the grocery store, standing in the shadows of an alley when you’re walking to clear your mind.

You confront him once, your patience snaps. “Are you following me? What the hell, Jaemin?”

He just smiles, tilting his head like you’ve said something funny. “I’m just making sure you’re safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, you know. To keep you safe.”

It’s infuriating, how calm he is, how he manages to twist every accusation into a declaration of his “love.”

It’s not just Jaemin. The entire town seems to conspire against you. The people smile too widely, their eyes never quite meeting yours. Conversations feel hollow like they’re reciting lines from a script rather than speaking from the heart.

At the market, the woman at the counter refuses to sell you a bus ticket.

“What do you mean, there’s no way out?”

“There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” she says, her tone unnervingly kind. “Everything you need is here.”

Her words echo Jaemin’s, and a sickening realization begins to settle in. You leave the market, your chest tight with frustration and fear.

Even your apartment feels wrong. The walls seem to close in on you, the air growing heavier. You swear you hear whispers late at night, but when you check, no one is there.

—

The final straw comes one night when you confront Jaemin in his house. You storm into his pristine living room, the air thick with tension.

“What is going on, Jaemin? Why is everyone acting like this? Why can’t I leave this town?”

He’s seated calmly on the couch, his hands resting on his knees. When he looks up, his perfect smile is in place, but this time, it carries an edge of something darker. “Why would you want to leave? Everything here is perfect. You’re perfect. We’re perfect.”

“Stop saying that!” you shout, your voice trembling. “Nothing about this is perfect. It’s all fake!”

His expression hardens slightly, though the smile remains. “Fake? Is that what you think? You think the life I built for us is fake?”

You freeze, the weight of his words sinking in. “What do you mean... ‘built’?”

He stands slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he’s giving you time to process. “This town, the people, everything you see—it’s all for you. For us. I created it because I knew you needed something better. Something perfect.”

Your stomach drops, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “That’s... that’s not possible.” 

He steps closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “I’ve given you everything, Y/N. A world where you don’t have to worry, where nothing can hurt you. I’ve even given you pieces of myself—my love, my time, my devotion. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”

Your voice shakes as you respond. “This isn’t happiness, Jaemin. This is control.”

His jaw tightens, the cracks in his composure finally showing. “No. No, you’re wrong. This is love. I’ve made it perfect for you. Don’t you see? You don’t have to fight anymore. Just... let go.”

You back away, your mind racing. Everything starts to make sense now—the way people seem hollow, the strange cracks in the world, the way Jaemin always seems to know your every thought.

The truth suddenly dawns on you. “Even me... You’ve been controlling me, haven’t you?”

He hesitates. The silence stretches for a moment too long before he replies, his voice softer, almost pleading. “I didn’t want to control you. I just wanted to protect you. To keep you here, where it’s safe. You’re... you’re slipping away from me, Y/N. And if you go, this world will crumble. I can’t let that happen.”

His words are a plea and a threat all at once, and for the first time, you see him for what he truly is: not just a possessive lover, but the creator of this fragile, crumbling reality.

You spend the next few days searching for an escape, though you’re not entirely sure what “escape” even means in this twisted, fabricated reality. The cracks in the world are growing more pronounced—literal fissures splitting the pavement, flickers of darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, and moments where the townspeople freeze mid-motion, like broken puppets.

And Jaemin? He’s watching you closer than ever, though he never confronts you outright. You can feel his eyes on you wherever you go, a shadow that clings to your every step.

One night, while Jaemin is out, you find it—a journal hidden beneath a loose floorboard in your apartment. The pages are filled with strange symbols, diagrams, and what looks like fragmented memories of Jaemin’s thoughts.

One entry catches your eye:

"The anchor must never break. She is the key to keeping the world whole. Without her, there’s nothing."

Your heart races as you piece it together. You’re not just a prisoner in Jaemin’s world—you’re the foundation of it. If you can sever your connection to this place, the entire illusion might collapse. But how?

—

You decide you have to confront him. But not to beg or plead for your freedom—that won’t work. Jaemin is too possessive, too desperate to let you go willingly. No, you’ll have to trick him into believing that you’ve finally given in.

The next evening, you find him at his house. He’s in the living room, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. His expression is distant, almost melancholic.

“Jaemin?”

He turns, and his face lights up when he sees you, the sadness replaced by his usual serene smile. “Y/N. I was wondering when you’d come back to me.”

You force yourself to smile, stepping closer. “You were right. About everything. I’ve been fighting against you, against this... and I don’t know why. It’s perfect here. You’re perfect.”

His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in them. “You mean that?”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve been scared. But I see it now—you love me more than anyone ever could. You’ve built this world for me, and I want to stay.” You reach out to his hand.

His grip tightens on your hand, his smile growing as he pulls you into his arms. “I knew you’d understand. I knew you’d see how much I love you.”

You let him hold you, burying your face against his chest to hide the fear and repulsion you know must be showing on your face.

—

Over the next few days, you pretend to settle into the life Jaemin has crafted for you. You let him dote on you, let the townspeople’s eerie smiles wash over you without flinching. All the while, you gather the pieces you need.

You find an old map in the library, one that shows a strange, unfinished road on the outskirts of town. You overhear snippets of conversation from the townspeople—hushed whispers about “the edge” and “the boundary.”

And then, one night, you’re ready.

You and Jaemin are sitting together in his living room, the fire casting warm light across the walls. You rest your head on his shoulder, your voice is soft and trembling. “There’s just one thing I need to feel... whole.”

“Anything, my love. Just tell me.” He looks down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Take me to the edge of the town. I want to see where it all ends. I want to understand this world you’ve made for me.”

His expression falters. “The edge isn’t important. Everything you need is right here.”

You sit up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes pleading. “Please, Jaemin. I want to see it with you. I want to understand your love fully. Don’t you want me to?”

He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. Finally, he nods reluctantly. “If that’s what you want.”

—

He drives you to the edge of town in silence, his grip on the steering wheel tight. The road grows darker the further you go, the world outside the car fading into an inky void.

When he stops, the road ahead simply... ends. Beyond it is nothingness, a swirling expanse of black that seems to pulse and writhe.

“This is as far as it goes. There’s nothing out there. Nothing but chaos.”

You step out of the car, your heart racing. “It’s beautiful.”

Jaemin watches you carefully as you approach the edge.

You turn back to him. “Thank you for showing me this. I... I trust you.”

For a moment, his face softens, and you see his vulnerability once again beneath the perfection. “You mean everything to me. You always have.”

As his attention wavers, you make your move. You sprint toward the edge, your bag clutched tightly in your hands.

Jaemin notices and panics. “Y/N! Stop!”

He now stands in front of you, his usually perfect expression unhinged, desperation seeping through every word. “You can’t leave. You don’t understand what’s out there. It’s chaos. Pain. No one will love you like I do. No one will protect you like I have.”

“This isn’t love, Jaemin. This is a prison. You don’t love me—you love the idea of me, the version you can control. But I’m not yours to keep.”

He steps closer, his once-gentle eyes are now sharp, glinting with anger and fear. “If you leave, you’ll regret it. Out there, you’ll be nothing. A speck. Here, you’re everything. My everything.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening as the house begins to shudder. The cracks spread faster now, the walls peeling to reveal nothingness beyond. This world is breaking apart, and so is he. “I’d rather be nothing than lose myself to you.”

Jaemin’s expression softens for a brief moment—hurt flashing across his face. He reaches for you, his hand trembling as if he’s trying to hold on to what’s slipping away.

“Please… don’t go. You’ll die out there. This place… it’s all I have.”

But you’ve already made your choice. You step back, closer to the edge of the crumbling reality. The air feels thin, the edges of the world curling in on themselves like burning paper. Behind Jaemin, you see the town collapsing—the people disintegrating into ash, their empty smiles vanishing with them.

With one last look at him, you whisper, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

And then you leap into the void.

Life had been okay after you escaped. Moving again would’ve been the best option in this case. 

The train slows to a halt, the perfect little town laid out in front of your eyes.

You step onto the platform, the scent of flowers filling the air. The town looks clean, almost like it was plucked straight from a storybook or a carefully curated dream. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, reassuring yourself that this was exactly what you wanted. A fresh start. A clean break from everything you left behind.

You set your bag down and begin unpacking, each item you pull out grounding you a little more in this place. A simpler life. A quieter life. That’s what you need, far from the chaos of before.

The next morning, you step into your new job at the café. It’s a quaint little shop with pastel walls and rows of pastries so perfect they could be in a magazine. The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread wraps around you like a warm hug.

The owner greets you with a wide smile. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, and her voice is both kind and commanding. “Welcome, dear,” she says. “I can tell you’re nervous, but you’ll fit in just fine. Everyone does.”

As you settle into the rhythm of the café, you notice how everything is perfectly simple. You glance out the window, and for a split second, you think you see a figure standing at the edge of the square.

Your breath catches, but when you blink, the figure is gone. You shake your head and return to wiping down the counter.

It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Just nerves. After all, this is the fresh start you wanted.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip

apologies for the trauma. you are all entitled to no financial compensation. hope you enjoyed your stay!

[lyricsgoal]

Takue Chalaon Ni Main Janda Lyrics (Jodi) - Diljit Dosanjh

#TakueChalaonNiMainJanda #Jodi #DiljitDosanjh

[blukutz]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Name: blu

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Prns: any! ^ ^

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Age: private, sorry (｡･･｡)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Birthday: oct 21

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Languages: ENG + 日本語 (まだ勉強) my posts and brain junk are under #bluvomit!!!

if you see a follow from @bluugutzz,, it's my main....

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Luvs!!!

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . needy streamer overload!!

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . Jirai/J-Fashion

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . horror!!

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . vocaloid and utau!!!! °ᡣ𐭩 . ° . project diva and rhythm games!!!!!

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . fictional stupid boyz lol (o_ _)ﾉ彡♡

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . validation and numbers.......love......

°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . sushi mmm

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i luv drawing and doing art!!! art acc at @blus-junk-drawer!!!

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ppl who like me, asks and any interaction!!! please interact with me......,,pleeas

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i am not comfortable with open DMs, and likely won't reply to you if you just shoot me a msg right away

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[keehomania]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ masterlist

bangtan sonyeondan (방탄소년단)

horror shorts (공포 단편) (16+)

╰┈➤ kim namjoon (김남준)

successors (후계자) (nsfw)

troublemaker (트러블) (nsfw)

under the moon (달 아래)

under the moon 2 (달 아래 2) (nsfw)

professor (교수님) (nsfw)

say a little prayer for you (nsfw)

╰┈➤ kim seokjin (김석진)

business proposal (제안서) (nsfw)

spoiled (스포일드) (nsfw)

spoiled 2 (스포일드 2) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ min yoongi (민윤기)

frostbite (동상) (nsfw)

frostbite 2 (동상 2) (nsfw)

el dorado (엘도라도) (nsfw)

a little older (더 나이든) (nsfw)

BONES & ALL (본즈 앤 올) (DRABBLE) (16+)

╰┈➤ jung hoseok (정호석)

feel the rhythm (리듬 느껴) (nsfw)

heartbeat (심장박동) (nsfw)

l’espoir (희망) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ park jimin (박지민)

ghost of you (너의 유령) (nsfw)

tempted (유혹) (nsfw)

savior (구세주) (nsfw)

backrooms (백룸) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ kim taehyung (김태형)

accomplice (공범) (nsfw)

teach me (가르쳐줘) (nsfw)

hello, sidney (안녕, 시드니) (nsfw)

three words (세 마디) (nsfw)

REBUKE (책망) (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ jeon jungkook (전정국)

underground (지하) (nsfw)

nevertheless (알고있지만) (nsfw)

cold case (미제 사건) (nsfw)

teotw (the end of the world) (세상의 끝) (nsfw)

roses (장미) (16+)

MORE MORE MORE (더 더 더) (DRABBLE) (16+)

paradise (18+)

neo culture technology (네오 컬처 테크놀로지)

╰┈➤ lee taeyong (이태용)

smile for me (웃어줘)

therapeutic (테라퓨틱) (nsfw)

bubu’s a sub lol (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ jeong jaehyun (정재현)

faded (사라졌다) (nsfw)

twisted (DRABBLE) (REQ) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ mark lee (마크리)

BBF (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

reader w/ big tits (nsfw) (REQ)

this is not a love story (nsfw) (REQ)

do as i say (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

sweetheart (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

practice (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

bad taste (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

come back home (집에 돌아와) (16+)

╰┈➤ johnny suh (서영호)

FRIENDS (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

FRIENDS (EXTENDED) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ wong kunhang (黄冠亨)

SWITCH-UP (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

╰┈➤ xiào déjùn (肖德俊)

sweet home (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

outer banks

╰┈➤ rafe cameron (rcm)

hates everyone but you (18+)

like him (drabble)

act a fool (18+)

dark side (18+)

homesick (18+)

bad religion (18+)

party animal (18+)

✧.* taking requests for boy groups i stan (bts, nct, p1harmony, stray kids, shinee, txt, seventeen, got7,) and for groups i'm fond of (zb1, ateez, enhypen, exo, bnd, the boyz)

✧.* taking requests for girl groups i stan (red velvet, kara, girls' generation, twice) and girl groups i'm fond of (blackpink, aespa, ive, new jeans)

✧.* taking requests for characters from kdramas and regular shows i enjoy (the heirs, wwwsk, love next door, penthouse, the glory, scarlet heart, lovely runner, doctor slump, outer banks, shameless)

✧.* taking requests for any and all genders, races, ethnicities, etc. please be mindful of what themes and plots you incorporate! i'll gladly include nsfw themes, as long as the person requesting is 18 and over. with that being said, don't request some freak shit ik damn well i'm not gonna write abt keeho pissing in ur ass!!

[xuchiya]

"Not literally make love." || choi san || one-shot

|genre: idol! san. idol! reader |mentions: slight suggestive. no smut. fluff currently playing 90's songs like A1, Brian McKnight, Boys II Men and such,it gave me an idea.

It was your first time bringing your boyfriend, Choi San, over to your dorm in the KQ-owned building where idols like yourself stayed. You and San had been dating for nearly two years, but he had only just returned from a Dolce & Gabbana fashion event last night. After spending time with the boys, he suggested staying with you for the evening.

Now, the two of you were comfortably sprawled on your bed, lost in your own little world. Your phone was propped on the nightstand with Spotify open, playing a playlist filled with throwback songs you’d borrowed from your dad’s music collection.

As you scrolled absentmindedly through your phone, the next song began to play. Unlike the previous tracks, this one made San pause. The smooth, slow R&B melody caught his attention, and he turned to look at you, intrigued.

“Hey, love,” he said, leaning closer. “What’s the title of this song?”

You hummed distractedly, not catching his question at first. “Sorry, what was that, honey?”

“The title of this song,” he repeated, a curious smile tugging at his lips.

Your brows furrowed as you focused on the soft, sensual rhythm. Recognition hit you a moment later, and your cheeks immediately flared. You knew this song—it was unmistakably about that.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out as your shyness overtook you. Finally, you stammered, “W-Well… it’s… I’m not telling you the title!”

San chuckled, his warm hand slipping into yours as he gently rubbed the back of your hand. “It’s okay, love. I’ll understand,” he said, his tone soothing.

You exhaled a nervous laugh, glancing at the speaker and then back at his expectant eyes. Finally, with a deep breath, you answered softly, “It’s Boyz II Men… I’ll Make Love to You.”

San nodded, his hand still resting on yours, but a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. Suddenly, he laughed, the sound low and teasing as he looked at you. “Sure.”

You blinked, confused at first, until your brain finally processed his response. Before you could react, he shifted, pulling you slightly on top of him in one swift motion. Your torso rested against his chest, though your legs weren’t straddling him.

“San!” you exclaimed, your voice high-pitched with embarrassment as you tried to move.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his smirk deepening. “Let’s do it,” he murmured, his voice laced with playful intent.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic. “Right now?!”

He nodded, the small smirk on his lips growing more devilish. “I can’t wait.”

“Wait, wait!” you sputtered, your words tumbling out in disbelief. “I just told you the title, not—San!”

[letters-with-notes]

SUNWOO - SAFE SPACE

💌 GROUP: The Boyz 💌 GENRE: anxiety comfort 💌 WORDS: 1.5k 💌 SUMMARY: When Sunwoo finds you crying because of anxiety, he knows just the right way to make you feel more secure.

A/N: my own work reposted

When Sunwoo stepped into your room and saw your face, it was definitely not what he expected. He expected you to turn around in pleasant surprise, your expression lighting up in delight to see your boyfriend. Instead, what he saw was your reddened eyes widening in fright as tears stained your cheeks. For a second, he was frozen in place like he wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to see you crying or if he was intruding on something he shouldn’t have. He almost took a step back and closed the door on instinct, but fortunately his brain was fast enough to catch himself before he’d done that.

“Uh, are you okay?” The question was as awkward as his voice when he asked it, and when you just sniffed in response, Sunwoo realized that this was probably not the way to go about it.

So instead, he took a deep breath to collect himself and focus on you, then walked up to your desk. You were sitting in your office chair, and before you heard the door open, you had been lying your head on your arms, resting on the desk in front of your lit up computer screen. There was an empty document open, the cursor on the clean white page blinking down at you in a steady rhythm.

Sunwoo quickly scanned your surroundings for hints, then crouched down before you and put his hands on your knees in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. 

“Why are you crying?” His voice this time was very soft, and he looked up at you with patient, warm eyes, encouraging you to trust him with whatever it is, that’s tearing you down so bad. Somehow, this look directed at you only made your tears flow harder, and your sobs made it difficult to say anything. You could only stutter out a few broken “I”s before crying again.

Sunwoo muttered a “shit” under his breath and kneeled up so he could pull you into his arms. He patted your back in a way that was comforting in its awkwardness. Opposed to his initial reaction and what he might be thinking about himself, he was actually quite good at taking care of other people. His hug was warm and his touch was gentle but firm, both comforting and grounding.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry” he repeated a few times, holding you close until you calmed down in the warmth of his arms. Eventually, your sobs ceased, and he let you stay like this for a bit longer to catch your breath and calm down completely. Then you slowly pulled away a little to start wiping your tears with your sleeves. 

“Stop that,” Sunwoo scolded you, pulling your hands away from your face. He quickly found some tissues on your desk and took over the job, gently wiping your face and making you blow your nose. When everything was done, he brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead. “Are you okay?” he asked after.

You still didn’t seem like you were feeling better, your expression looked empty and ready to burst into another round of crying at any moment. So Sunwoo took it upon himself to get you comfortable enough. “Did something happen? If someone was an asshole to you, I can teach them a lesson.”

You scrunched up your nose in a grimace that probably meant that you were trying to glare at him for speaking nonsense and holding back a smile.

“I can’t write,” you said eventually, your voice barely above a whisper in the silence of your room.

For a second, Sunwoo wasn’t sure if he heard you right. Could such a simple reason cause you to cry as hard as you did? His shoulder still felt wet from the way your tears seeped through his t-shirt. He found it hard to believe that it was all because you had writer’s block or something.

“...Is that it?” he asked for confirmation, eyes wide with confusion while rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

You seemed to hesitate for quite a long time before trying again, “...I’m scared of writing.”

“Why are you scared of writing?” This was even more confusing because you weren’t the type to doubt your skills often and even when you did, it always made you more motivated to learn and improve. Did someone say something bad about your writing? Did he really need to square up and fight someone for you?

There was another period of silence, however instead of answering his question directly, it seemed like you changed your previous statement again, “I’m scared of everything… I’m just… scared…”

You choked on the last word and you could already feel a new set of tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. Your fingers curled into tight fists under Sunwoo’s palms and he was afraid that you would start crying again, so he quickly leaned closer to give you another forehead kiss. He was relieved when you closed your eyes for a moment to only focus on the touch of his lips on your skin, then you finally blinked the tears away.

Now it all made sense. Sunwoo knows what it’s like when fear makes someone unable to do anything. Maybe he hadn’t experienced what you were going through at this moment, maybe the fears he’d experienced weren’t to this level or this kind, still, he did have one or two tricks up his sleeve to offer you some help.

“You’re scared of everything?” he asked, trying his best to hold back a grin but the corner of his lips curled up anyways. When you looked at him with confusion, wondering if he didn’t hear you, he added, “Even me?”

You immediately shook your head no. Then seeing his grin widen proudly, you realized that your thoughtless response led you into his trap so you quietly added, “I saw you panicking when you found me crying.”

“I wasn’t– khm, you saw it wrong, your tears obscured your vision,” he huffed, partly embarrassed, partly relieved that you were starting to feel better – even if it was to his expense. Either way, he just needed you to trust him and let him in. He could take care of the rest.

“Listen here, crybaby,” he started again and poked your cheek with his index finger when he saw you pouting at the very affectionate nickname. “My point is, since you’re not scared of me, you can rely on me, right?”

You looked at him like not a word of this made any sense to you. Sunwoo thought that was fair, he wasn’t always reliable in every single thing, and he couldn’t help much with the particular things you were struggling with. However, he wanted you to know that at the very least, you could hide behind his back or in his arms whenever you needed to – you’re not alone. He would be your support, your safe space, your shoulder to cry on. He would help you calm down and recharge yourself so you would have the strength to face your fears and defeat them like a boss.

“I’m saying that even though you have to do most of the work yourself, you don’t have to face your fears alone,” Sunwoo said, leaning closer again – close enough that you saw nothing but his face, and he placed his palms gently on your ears. “Whenever you’re scared, I’ll be here to cover your eyes and cover your ears, and get into your mind to drive out all the fears, alright?”

When you nodded, he immediately kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered close, and you melted into the way his lips moved against yours. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, one slowly slipping up along the line of his neck to thread into his hair. He was right, you realized after pulling away for a moment: you didn’t see anything but his face, didn’t hear anything but his soft breaths, didn’t smell anything but his scent, didn’t feel anything but his touch, didn’t taste anything but his lips. Your thoughts about your fears dissolved like clouds after the rain when the sun broke through the sky and lit everything up with its bright light. Its warmth, similar to your boyfriend’s warmth, made you feel at peace and filled you up with life.

You kissed him again, your lips chasing his, wanting to feel more of this magical feeling that seemingly made all your fears disappear. It was only after you parted for air that you realized that it wasn’t like your fears disappeared, they only seemed less threatening now. And you also realized that it wasn’t that he made you feel stronger, he simply stayed beside you and showed you that you’re already strong enough. You realized that what he did for you was being your safe space where your fears couldn’t follow you and you could rediscover yourself.

[jeahreading]

tag game for the desiblr!

Hum yaaron bigde hain, dil apna hai shareef bada MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE DESI BOYS! 1 2 3 GO! English thumke, dil ki rhythm pe! Maare jamm jamm ke, desi boyz!

Reblog this with a song which has the word "boys"!

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@no-idea-where-i-am-lost and all my desi moots!!!

I have a version for desi girls as well! let's see kounsa better karega