#eunseo messy

[wieqo]

🐰᭔᭄ㅤฺฺ໋ׅ⡅｡ 𝒩ostalgias ▫️᭮

[badtz-web]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⋆ ֵ⠀ׂ⠀♡ં⠀ ּ 𝗅݀ᛧׅ𝗄ׄᦸ ֵ⠀ໍ⠀ּ᪈ฯ⠀ ׄ߭ฯᦸ𝖻𝗅݀᪈𝗀 ִ࿓⠀ׁ⠀۪

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ׂ⠀⠀࿙ ִ⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀⠀ִ⠀⠀︶ ͝⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀ ִ ⠀⠀ׄ

[melodyinapril]

the way things go ♡ ⊹ ָ . ❀

[wohseokjin]

WJSN 🐱 shageun 🐶

[heyniniy]

✿ wjsn [ eunseo ] lockscreens

[nhy6ck]

[i-dani]

　　 　　 ✿　　 ⌣ 　　 @tyunlouv　　 ⊞

[braaan]

Sunday Best (w/ Eunseo)

male reader & wjsn eunseo

fluff & smut, 3k words

As far as you’ve rationalized, it doesn’t make any sense.

For starters, you and Eunseo have been together since high school, and this is far from the first time she’s been in your apartment.

The first time, hours after a mutual friend’s birthday party gets cut short, Eunseo’s throwing up in your bathroom. It’s a tale as old as time: the Friday night of a long weekend, way too many groupchats, high school bravado kneecapped by Fireball shooters — it’s messy, and senior year. You get you’re her boyfriend’d into nursing her back to life, and one grueling night shift later, she’s under your covers while you’re trying to get comfy on your small-for-sitting futon. And despite how early she’s up the next morning, between the still warm almond croissants on your countertop, the deep hug she pulls you into before you can drum up anything sarcastic, and how much better your basketball shorts sit on her waistline — drawstring double-knotted, waistband rolled all the way up — it’s hard to stay mad.

Another time, you’re coming back from date night, and before the front door even closes in on you two, she’s walking your apartment’s perimeter, pulling out supplies from a backpack. You’re trailing her, trying to simultaneously close the distance she covers and read the tiny labels on household items she leaves in her wake. Before long, there’s not a countertop unmarked by these tiny rubber characters (“They’re called SMISKIs”), all of your spaces start to predominantly smell like daisies, and you don’t recognize half of the brands in your bathroom. Any other time: you’d say something. Any other time: you’d stand up for yourself; puff your chest into the slight height difference. Any other time Eunseo wasn’t reappearing from your bedroom in a tiny cotton shirt and all eight inches of these plaid blue pajama shorts: yeah, you’d draw your boundaries.

Sometime after that, in the lull of quiet comfort and work from home, her legs are in your lap as you both bat away questions on individual video calls. Difference couldn’t be any more stark. Twelve minutes into your morning meeting, in between unmutes of your desktop microphone, you’ve tallied up a total of twenty words, and have entertained a serious-and-three-quarters imagination about where else you could call into this — your camera’s off, after all. Eunseo’s your in-office foil: her chocolate hair freshly straightened, her baby blue button up perm pressed, her small talk status quo. Eunseo’s full of shit. Just off camera, unobvious in her digital four walls, she hasn’t changed out of your heather gray boxer shorts she wore to bed.

So, really:

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Eunseo wake up in a pair of shorts.

It doesn’t make any rational sense how much it still gets a reaction out of you.

--

Granted, it’s an unreal view.

The sun hurries through your curtains to pool around her feet, daybreak serving as stepping stones as she pads to your en suite. Golden yellow melts into her milk chocolate hair, spinning already light browns into shades of almond and sand between sunlit highlights. A breeze picks up through the fabric, and the light breaks. One moment she’s haloed, cast in sunlight, all of her curves etched in radiance; the next, momentarily obscured, a dream in soft-focus, half-glimpsed and inviting whole-yearning. From where you’re propped up on your elbows, she flickers in and out of reality and reverie, real-deal and daydream. She’s a light show in slow motion, superposition between technicolor and transfiguration; sunkiss and shadow in perfect ballet, catching an everyday angel between the light that loves her and pockets of beautiful mystery that make her all the more alluring.

All of this to Eunseo: her morning routine.

She walks without hesitation. Even when it’s mundane, there’s a tangible confidence in the way she sprays sea salt into her hair, carding her fingers through her roots.

It’s the one thing that threw you for a loop about her, really: for a long time, you were waiting for the character to drop. Blended between candor and how you’d be able to read anything just off of her facial expression, Eunseo was headstrong, and always heart first. Early into your relationship, it was unnerving. Younger yous bounced between bouts of ‘wow, that’s frank’ and ‘what are you compensating for?’. You got where you were in life — to you: where most people didn’t — by never playing all your cards, and here Eunseo was all the same, hand face up on the table.

Though it doesn’t take you too long to eventually admit that forward is sexy.

It’s in the way she asks for what she wants, unbothered by the answer, discarding pretense and step-by-step; it’s in the way she’ll take the lead without warning, showing up after work at your lobby to take you on a night she’s pre-planned; it’s in the way that — because on the weekend, you wake up on her time — she’s six feet away from you, tip-toed, peeling at the curtains: all the way stretched out.

And outlined in daylight, you don’t miss a detail.

For starters, her shirt’s way too small. It’s this light material: cheap white cotton that curls in on itself at the hem. And as she reaches out at the Roman shades, revealing more and more skin, you can explore all the small of her back, run imaginary hands along where her shirt stops, down the soft line where skin kisses spine. You can trace your thumbs at the space just above her hips, skirting shapes at her waistline, dancing just above the navy soccer shorts Eunseo wore in tenth grade, faded far from school colors, and tiny as hell.

You could sit there for hours — you’d find new angles to obsess over.

You get half a beat.

“It’s rude to stare, you know?”

And in one motion, Eunseo closes the distance between where she was and where you sit, quickly cross-legged on your comforter.

“And even ruder to have fun,” she starts, patting the blankets grouped around your waist, “all by yourself.”

“Fuck off,” you spit, batting away at her forearm. The blood runs to your cheeks, and your ears are hot. “You might as well be wearing nothing — what am I supposed to do?”

Looking at you through her fringes, the edges of her lips pulling into the start of a smile, she doesn’t need any words — it’s a brutally honest admission.

“You’re saying,” she whispers, “it’s these you like?” Both of your eyes flick to where her hands find the trim of her shorts, tracing the stitching at her thigh, following a runaway stripe with a fingernail — matte white, all insidious, and teasingly slow.

“Eunseo,” you try again flatly. “Fuck,” and there’s a pause here, implicit now anything but, “off.” 

Which would be half convincing if you could take your eyes off of her legs.

You’re tracing her thigh in your head, filling the toned crease with your gaze, painting Eunseo’s legs with attention.

She leans into you, and makes it hard to think. Your thoughts are cloudy; in the moment. Nothing becomes more top of mind than the smell of daisies.

There’s a half beat.

Then a whisper against your lips: “Tell me what you like.”

Forward is so fucking sexy.

Kissing Eunseo is like fire: hot, and all at once. She’s running her hands under your shirt, snaking her legs under your stomach; she’s whimpering against your bottom lip, redirecting your hands onto her chest; she’s running her tongue against your teeth, wedging herself square in all of your focus — you’re trying to keep up.

You’re kneading at her chest through cotton, creating new creases, feeling the bud of her nipple get hard in your hands.

You’re tugging at her t-shirt, stretching fabric out of form.

You’re molding Aphrodite — palming, gripping, shaping. Sculpting divinity on earth called for hours of sanctification, and you were here to worship.

Eunseo’s like putty to it all — so sensitive, and pliant at your fingertips. She’s moaning at your mouth, then whispering praises. Hushed against your lips: more, more, more, more, more.

You blink life back into your eyes, and magnetically, inherent like gravity, they fall onto hers. Filled with the night sky — wine-dark, galaxy-wide, abyssal, fully oblivion — even now: hooded, sultry, and all shades of dangerous, they felt inevitable, like they were where yours belonged. They beckoned — like they were written in all of your universes, like all the right roads led back to them.

And it’s like Eunseo reads your mind, because all of a sudden: she’s scarlet, a very red blush dancing across her cheeks.

“Okay, pretty boy,” she starts, catching her breath. Then, gathering her hair into a ponytail: “I’m going to blow your mind.”

And without hesitation, because you’re still stuck in ten seconds ago: “You look so cute.”

And because now she has to: “I’m already going to put you in my mouth, you don’t have to flatter me anymore.”

--

Eunseo’s flipped over, her cunt inches from your lips, drawing lines along your length with her tongue. And you’d return the favor quicker, if not for how mesmerizingly methodical she was. You’re catching glimpses of bits and pieces in the negative space between your bodies. Through her t-shirt: a flash of the flat of her tongue as she reaches the tip of your cockhead, her white nails replacing her mouth around your shaft at the top of her dips, her pretty pink pout — how they all disappear as she takes your cock down her throat. She knows all your soft spots — what you like; where you like it — and always gave you what you loved.

It feels like it all makes sense -

Your hips bucking into her mouth on her downbeats, the saccharine song she starts humming mid-bob, the precum-stained kisses she’s leaving along your length in legato, the half-notes they send across your nervous system -

- all of you feels like it rhythmically belongs together.

“Eunseo,” you manage to grit out, and you feel her smirk against your cock.

You can narrate it in your head. Hm? she’s goading, minxy moxie maxed out. This is all it takes to make you cum? There’s a half-choke — a rough buck of your hips. Fingers curl around your shaft — the hum she has in the back of her throat picks up. A little bit of your cock in my mouth? You’re like a tuning fork to it all. You’re dizzy.

And you’d probably die then and there, if not for the last resort of your tongue on Eunseo’s cunt.

It’s one of the only things that levels her, really.

All the build up is cut in half, tempo slowed down to a grind as you swipe long, breathy flicks of your tongue on Eunseo’s pretty pussy. You’re pacing yourself against a water droplet–rhythm in your head. Arms hooked around her thighs, thumbs tracing circles counterclockwise on her skin -

Down.

Build.

Up.

Down.

Swell.

Up.

It’s unholy the noise she makes next.

Too adorable to just leave hanging.

“Look at you, Eunseo,” you taunt, where the start of a stanza would go, and then drop back into cadence — no air for her to respond — tongue back on her slit. 

And against against your mouth, it’s almost like all of the candor is causal — all the forwardness just carefully-crafted camouflage to get you on her cunt — because reduced down to a mewling mess, white-knuckle around your bedsheets, spine arching to get even closer to the flat of your tongue, there is no back talk. Eunseo was yours, her cunt was all yours, and she was so willing to follow.

Doubling your efforts on her heat, lapping against her little pussy, tracing a thumb around her clit -

“Baby,” she whines.

- Eunseo knows she’s coming undone.

And in this full-on, two-part second that you’re completely lucid to -

- she does.

At first, it’s like time’s frozen. You can feel her tense up under your breath, cheat one last gulp of air, tighten her thighs against your forearms.

Then, everything’s in fast forward. Eunseo unravels. She’s scrambling on polyester, looking for a hold, any grip to support her through how hard she’s cumming on your tongue. The words caught in her throat catch up to her, and all the way through her high, she’s conjoining cuss words, peaking into falsetto as you line kisses along her cunt. Son Eunseo melts against you, onto you, unwound and fully fucked.

But never enough to return the favor.

Gracefully sensual, she straddles you, catching herself on your chest, sitting square on your hips, parking up against your length — you’re caught off guard by the sharks.

Plastered against Eunseo’s shirt: an elementary guide to enough shark species to line anyone’s trivia back pocket — Whale, Great White, Mako, Tiger, Basking -

And because now she has to: “My eyes are up here, perv.”

And without hesitation, because this time that’s genuinely low: “Oh, fuck you.”

And not a beat after that, right against your lips, and riding further up your cock: “You only wish.”

Eunseo’s mouth is on yours, and then so’s her tongue. And as she’s exploring your chest with her palms, thumbing at your nipples, you can only smile. You don’t know why you doubted yourself: with Eunseo, there’s no way anything’s a character.

There’s a beat that you both take, and in the next, there’s a shirt over your face.

You’re blinded, covered in SHEIN sheer, and — instincts taking over — you reach your hands out to grab at anything.

You find Eunseo’s waist as she takes you in her pussy.

It’s hot, it’s tight, it’s needy. She’s getting you both back on beat, picking up the pace, up-and-down on your cock, side-to-side on your hips — you’re trying to keep up.

Your grip tightens, and it’s downright unholy: your thumbs touch at her belly button.

She’s so small, so tight, so in your hands, and so fucked, so fucked, so fucked -

“Cum in me,” Eunseo exhales, then suffixes: “in me, in me, in me.”

Your head goes into overdrive — it’s a time bomb: pulsing, racing, tensing; it’s a million miles a second, and so fucking dangerous. You’re gritting your teeth, crushing her waist in your grip -

And because now you have to, and in lossless lucidity: “Eunseo, fuck off.”

She’s so fucked.

And you know in the moment that follows -

How quickly she finds her place under you, picking up where her fingers were last on your cock — kissing, twisting, sucking, her matte white fingernails hypnotic up and down your shaft -

How guttural the moan you let out feels, like it comes from your tailbone -

How hushed the holy shit is on your lips as Eunseo swallows load after milky load -

- how fucked you are, too.

(You always will be.)

--

There’s a little song and dance you play after Eunseo pops back out of the bathroom.

Again: it’s not either of your first times with each other, but like routine — still and forever — you’re falling into characters you know and love.

Eunseo’s laying it on thick, walking like a textbook taught her how to: drummed-up and exaggerated, heel-toe, heel-toe. Hands folded behind her back, she’s in this half-bend, lips pursed, eyes wandering: suddenly fascinated in the brushwork on your walls or how light catches random trinkets, bending over to the left, the right, and just under to make sure their shadows are still there. It’s all but complete, just missing a laid back whistle; it’s all comically stupid, just always the most adorable thing.

Of course — and only after two full minutes of the charade, drawn out and profusely slow-burned; only after you’ve rolled your eyes so hard they might stick, tension just under boiling point — her little exploration leads her to your bed.

And with that kind of setup: anything she said would’ve landed.

So “... you don’t want to put a kid in me …” absolutely does.

Her head’s in your lap now, face cracked in this darling half-giggle.

Outwitting Eunseo is a losing game. You never win. Not against the air that lingers around her, peppered sweet and spicy, intoxicating even when you were both sober. Not against her expert balance of prickly and precious, cutesy-cocky carefully-crafted. Not against the crescents in her eyes when you’re this deep into a bit. You don’t really have to.

She kisses you, and it tastes like the promise of time: that you’ll always have more.

It’s pre-teen sweet, spiked with hands brushing soft spots: it’s goofy, it’s whole, and you’re both giggling — trading tender breaths, sharing secrets in the exhales, melting smiles into each others’.

Here — in between the playful banter, nose-to-nose with Son Eunseo — you’re complete.

“Want a coffee?”

(And it’s probably the only thing you’ve done once and only once. You should make the coffee.)

“I’ll make us two.”

--

:')

feel like everything's been fast paced recently, so hope not cringe to say that this has been a serious refuge for me. domestic... interplay (?) is so fun to explore, and i could probably tease out established relationship footsies switchy blurry lines forever — hope you enjoyed!

thank you @majorblinks for the beta (my twin flame and no one is ever going to do it like us), @chunksworld for giving me the push to write eunseo (guys girl enjoyers!), and @passingnotions for everything in between (u next.)

[bbina]

"that's enough for you tonight" eunseok successfully snatches the bottle of vodka you were chugging off your hands after shotaro and wonbin thought it'd be funny to dare you to do so

"eunseok!" you react, feeling the liquid drip all over your chin. you were busy drinking your ass off after being broken up with your dumb boyfriend over a petty fight. eunseok glares at the two giggling boys before they scurry off somewhere else to find their next target, that being which was seunghan

eunseok, noticing that you were now absolutely hammered decided to take matters into his own hands by guiding (more like dragging) you back to the table

"no! i want to dance with sohee and sungchan!" you whined, drunkenly pointing fingers at the dance floor where sohee and sungchan obviously dominated with their killer dance moves (obviously scaring the bitches away)

before eunseok can say anything, you free yourself from his grip by yanking your hand back before running off to the dance floor. you, sohee and sungchan immediately form a little dance circle and started busting out dance moves

with the way bystanders started cheering and joining in the circle, you were having a blast. the dj suddenly starts playing "we are never ever getting back together" by taylor swift and almost in an instant, you knew it was over on the floor

"this is my jam! fuck you jae!" you yell out, a middle finger up in the air as you started to go down. shaking your hips and all that funky jazz. you hear sungchan and sohee cheer you on, whipping out their phones to record you

eunseok was standing from afar watching you lose yourself to the music. he finds it a little funny with the way you were acting tonight because he knows damn well that you won't remember a single thing tomorrow

now the dj switches the song to something more sultry. the lights in the building changing to red. eunseok then feels someone tapping on shoulder, it was a random girl asking him to dance with her. he easily turns them down and says he's busy which was a lie (to be fair he kinda was busy. busy keeping an eye on you)

when he looks back to look for you among the sea of people, he sees you dancing with someone else. in an instant, eunseok's mood shifts, he clicks his tongue in annoyance as he hurries to the dance floor to save you from this potential creep

too drunk to process who was dancing with you, you may or may not started grinding on a stranger. the stranger hums in content before placing his hands on your waist. before you could react, you feel someone grab your wrist, dragging you someplace else

you look up to see eunseok with a stone cold expression on his face. staring down the stranger who even had the nerve to dance with you.

"eunseo-"

"we're leaving" he says cooly, easily maneuvering his way through the sea of people. he grimaces at the thought of just looking away for a brief second to seeing you grinding against a creep

at this point the alcohol has settled in your veins. you were now shitfaced drunk. eunseok takes notice of this and sighs, rolling his eyes at how he now needs to take care of you and probably the rest too if he could find them along the way

eunseok carefully sits you down back at the table. making sure that you weren't postured in a weird way since you were wearing a skintight dress

you're almost about to fall over the table, so drunk that you can barely keep your balance. but before you can topple over, eunseok grabs you by the shoulders and gently guides you back onto the sofa seats. as the minutes pass by, you feel your eyelids growing heavier and heavier

eunseok sits next to you and removes the jacket he was wearing before draping them all over your chest. eunseok takes a moment to look over your drunken state. your makeup was now all messy with all the dancing you did and from your sweat with how hot the building was with the amount of people inside

he fishes for his phone in his pockets to call shotaro that it was time to leave but he feels you shift next to him. your head was now leaning on his shoulder. the jacket he placed on top of you was now on the ground.

sensing how warm eunseok was, you scoot closer than ever that you were plush against him. eunseok freezes at the sudden skinship. he takes a mental note that it was probably the alcohol in system but last time he checked, he didn't drink that much. only some sips here and there, just enough to feel the buzz

eunseok hears you hum, snuggling yourself closer if that was even possible. he takes a peak at your slouched figure and things just weren't going his way does it? he notices that your chest was almost exposed with the way you were leaning on him. he sighs and tells you to sit properly, hoping you could still hear and understand him

thankfully though, you do and sit up. just like you were told. he turns to you to give you a little scolding but instead he was met with your lips on his

"shut up i'm trying to sleep here" you slur, a finger over your lips almost as if you were shushing him before you go back to your previous position, leaning on eunseok's shoulder.

eunseok's brain starts malfunctioning for a brief second before he returns to his senses. he touches his lips that had some residue from the remains of your lipgloss. that's when eunseok feels you fall limp. you've officially blacked out and was now knocked out cold

"y/n?" he shakes your shoulders in attempt to wake you up but much to his dismay, you weren't budging. eunseok internally curses at the way the situation rolled out but a part of him wishes you'd remember that little kiss you two shared just a moment ago.

notes.ᐟ inspired by a clip i saw on tiktok teehee and a little rewrite of one of my works back at saeist!

[lunaverrse]

N I C H O L A S H W A N G

SPELL A MUSE’S NAME IN MY ASK BOX AND I’LL TELL YOU…

fechado

Nicholas Hwang : feat. @greencruz 🩷

N: Are they clumsy and/or prone to accidents?

É um pouco desajeitado com as palavras, às vezes, mas não com gestos. O Nicholas raramente cai ou até tropeça, sempre caminha com cuidado, olhando onde pisa e essa é uma influência do irmão, que sempre dizia "não esqueça de olhar por onde anda" quando ele era pequeno. Com as palavras, só se estiver realmente muito nervoso e depende da situação, mas costuma ser bastante direto e falar tudo com tranquilidade.

I: In general, are they organized or messy?

É bastante organizado atualmente. Sempre havia a pegação no pé sobre como ele não conseguia se ajeitar com quase nada quando era adolescente. Esquecia compromissos, perdia documentos importantes, deixava passar algumas coisas fundamentais. Com o tempo e a chegada da vida adulta, essas coisas foram mudando. Hoje, como é professor e lida com crianças, com certeza sabe a importância de carregar uma agenda na bolsa o tempo todo. Também acabou com o problema de perder papéis e documentos e mantém tudo muito bem guardado.

C: If they had to pick one sport to play/watch which would it be?

Badminton! Aprendeu a jogar ainda na infância, com o avô, e continuou praticando por muito tempo, em casa mesmo, junto com a família. Pode passar horas vendo outras pessoas jogarem e nunca se cansa. Além disso, também gosta bastante de correr e caminhar, daí o gosto pelas trilhas.

H: Who texts/calls them the most?

A mãe, e sempre foi assim. Os dois são extremamente apegados e se falam todos os dias. Inclusive, durante a viagem com o grupo de amigos, ela ligava várias vezes para ter certeza de que ele realmente estava bem. Houve um período em que a comunicação dos dois ficou abalada com a perda do filho mais velho, mas, recentemente, ela voltou a se abrir mais com o Nicholas e os dois retomaram a conexão forte de antes.

O: How much have they changed in the past five years?

Muita coisa. Os últimos cinco anos marcaram acontecimentos importantes demais na vida dele. A formatura, o início no primeiro trabalho, a morte do irmão e o término com a Natalie. Tudo isso acabou mexendo com a maneira como ele se comporta com tudo. Costumava ser muito mais extrovertido e acessível, essas são as duas características que mais mudaram nele, que acabou ficando um pouco mais fechado e distante das pessoas.

L: How often do they post on their social media accounts?

Frequência zero, se dependesse disso pra viver, já podia entrar na fila da aposentadoria. Ele tem algumas redes por puro enfeite e só usa o kakao para manter contato com a família (e com a Natalie, mesmo que os dois tenham passado tanto tempo sem trocar mensagens).

A: Who are their exes? Do they still keep in touch?

Ele teve uma namorada antes da Nat, quando era bem adolescente. O nome dela era Eunseo e os dois se conheceram quando ela se mudou ao lado da casa dos avós do Nicholas. Foi um namorinho de verão na adolescência que não durou muito tempo e não impactou demais na vida dele. Os dois perderam contato há bastante tempo, quando ela se mudou para fazer faculdade em Seul.

S: How do they tell someone they’re sorry?

Dizendo exatamente isso: que sente muito, que está arrependido, pedindo perdão. Ele pode demorar um pouco para verbalizar, mas é assim que as coisas funcionam, ele precisa dizer, ou sente que não foi sincero.

W: Would they be starstruck if they met a celebrity?

Só se a celebridade em questão for o Bruno Mars, daí ele vai desmaiar. Caso contrário, ele não fica muito agitado com isso, apesar de ser fã de muitos artistas.

G: What was their first job?

Foi realmente o trabalho como professor de música infantil! Como os pais sempre fizeram questão que eles focassem nos estudos, os primeiros trabalhos só devem chegar após a faculdade. Ele também toca piano profissionalmente, mas acaba atuando mais como professor do que como pianista. Também já fotografou alguns eventos para amigos próximos, mas isso é mais hobby do que trabalho.

[lo-eyv]

son eunseo twitter bios

𝘀𝗼𝗻 ｡ 은 · ⿻ ven𝘂𝘀. 오

호. ᐢ 𝗹u𝘃 ‘ s.𝗲 𓂃 ໑

𝟿𝟾. t𝗶n𝘆 · ❏ ˒ 글 ᨳ

like or reblog - @har6u on tt

[fr-omis]

# wjsn dayoung messy users !! ★

@/dayomibf

@/da__y6ung

@/D4YOMl

@/dayomiT__T

like or reblog if u save!!

@ f4irydodo on twitter.

[melodyinapril]

fairy of shampoo ! ✿ ◌ ⁎ 💿 𖥟

[wohseokjin]

Get your ass out the trunk!

[ningdoll]

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[fairymiese]

𝗆𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖼