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&team mlst

pairing — nicholas wang x f!reader

warnings — suggestive, insecure!reader, established relationship, lingerie, nico is gone for you

syn — you decide to surprise nicholas with sexy lingerie

y/n/n = (your nickname)

is this really feminism? you wondered as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

it’s not not feminism, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

yes, you’ve read all those bitch media articles about owning your kinky shit and using your sexualized body as a source of empowerment. you’d consumed plenty of store-rack erotic thrillers in your lifetime and, though many of them hadn’t quite done it for you, you knew when to shut your brain off. the lingerie you’ve picked wasn’t even that risqué.

it was just that – you didn’t want to be inauthentic. you didn’t want to be something you wasn’t. more than anything, you were scared that nicholas would laugh at you, because this wasn’t you, and this wasn’t something you both did. most of your quality time together was spent in comfortable, baggy shirts and pajama pants.

the two times you’d both had sex, he’d always made sure you were super comfortable, which for you meant not showing too much skin and having the lights off. nicholas hadn’t pressured you to reveal more, he’d been so sweet and gentle and patient, and he’d told you you were “so beautiful”, in fact he told you that every day, but you had always had a difficult time believing it. it wasn’t that you belittled yourself on purpose; you just felt so fucking mediocre. on bad days, you felt downright gross, on good days, you just felt basic.

so maybe this was an attempt to persuade yourself otherwise.

you’d considered asking your sister or any other woman in your life for advice, but promptly scrapped that idea. they’d want to know who this was for, and you did not feel comfortable sharing your boyfriend’s identity yet, or that you had a boyfriend at all. frankly, you didn’t have the guts to consult with anyone on the purchase of lingerie, so you’d just gone with your gut. you looked at body suits and bralettes, but those options had felt too safe, too much like your old self who always put herself down and never experimented.

so you bought a full bustier and garter belt. this, to you, was the height of boldness. to really seal your fate, you’d chosen a dark, sultry red. you were wearing the ensemble right now. it worked well with your choice of lipstick, but it did not match the nervous wreck you were inside.

oh god, you looked ridiculous, didn’t you?

the knock on the door startled you.

“hey, y/n/n – you all right in there?”

nicholas’ kind, slightly worried voice didn’t really settle your stomach, but it did make you realize you couldn’t stay in the bathroom all night.

having been around him for a while now, you’d come to notice that, much like you, he was a habitual worrier, only he tried not to show it.

“um, yeah, i’m just washing my face, sorry.”

“no, take your time baby,” he spoke softly. “let me know if you need anything. i made you some jasmine tea.”

your heart fluttered in your chest. goddamn it, nico. he’d made you tea, because he knew you liked it before bed. but tea didn’t go well with lingerie, did it?

“aww, thanks, babe,” you said, trying to sound cheerful and not absolutely panicked. “i’ll be out in a minute.”

“okay, i’ll be in bed.”

once he was out of earshot, you let out a long sigh. you could just take off the lingerie and slip into your snuggly pj’s and enjoy tea and a netflix documentary with your boyfriend and not worry about looking fuckable.

or, you could stop being a coward.

“fucking fearless,” you mouthed at the reflection in the mirror. but then your shoulders sagged. “fuck me.”

that’s the idea, a sarcastic voice chimed in your head.

show time.

nicholas was sitting in bed, scrolling through his phone absently when you stepped into the room and paused in the doorway. you were wearing his bathrobe, wrapped from your throat to your knees. and you were trembling. you looked terrified.

he knew right away something was off.

he sat up, alert and concerned. “everything okay?”

you held up a finger. “don’t – don’t say anything. and don’t laugh. okay?”

nicholas frowned. he was far from amused. “why would i –”

“just humor me. you promise to be cool?”

nico nodded reluctantly. and then you started to untie the robe.

you let the bathrobe slide down your shoulders slowly until it fell with a thud at your feet.

you leaned back against the wall, sucking in a breath. you felt like you’d stepped out on a podium in front of a live audience. like walking to class in your underwear.

it was excruciating, but also kind of thrilling.

you couldn’t read much on nico’s face, at first. he blinked several times, adjusting to the sight of you, like he couldn’t quite take you in. and then, you saw it, the widening of his eyes, the glimmer of pure shock.

his lips parted in disbelief. his entire jaw fell, in fact. he looked like he’d been dealt a blow to the gut. like he was in some kind of physical pain.

that’s good, right? you thought, chest rising in panic. normally, your boyfriend’s poker face was unmatched. he knew how to shut himself down so effectively, it sometimes spooked you.

but right now, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

he looked completely unmoored.

nicholas didn’t know where to look first. his eyes roamed, unable to settle. blinded by the shape of you in all that fucking lace.

his throat felt thick, but he could barely swallow.

you, in fucking red garters, served to him like strawberries and cream on a silver platter.

the way you kept breathing fast, breasts straining against the corset made all the blood go straight to his dick, like he was a teenager again.

he wanted to keep staring at you, pressed up against the wall, thighs rubbing against each other shyly, but he also wanted to tear the clasps on your thighs with his teeth. and beyond the raw lust, he felt a hunger, not just for your body, but for what it represented, this gesture, this giving of yourself to him, for him, in spite of your fears.

he could tell you were scared. and he knew he was supposed to say the right things to assure that you looked fucking amazing, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and all he could do was ask weakly, hoarsely, “how are you gonna do that to a man?”

you bit your lip, face hot. “i’m sorry?”

nicholas’ eyes darkened as you took a step towards the bed. he shook his head slightly. the tick in his jaw seemed to say, you will be.

you felt desired in a way that eclipsed your anxiety and overthinking. the delicious anticipation coursing through you, silenced your doubts. if nicholas had started telling you how beautiful and good and sexy you looked, it wouldn’t have been as powerful as his dumbfounded silence, his inability to say anything more than issue a kind of accusation: how are you gonna do that to a man?

he’d crawled to the edge of the bed, crawled to you until his head was level with your corset. his fingers trembled as they ghosted over the clasps and belts of your garment. he carefully skimmed the hem of your red underwear with his thumb, throat working silently. you could tell he was trying to rein himself in, go slow.

emboldened by his quiet reverence, you pushed him back on the bed. nicholas exhaled as he looked up at you. you looked so fucking good towering over him. you leaned forward, one knee on the bed, and pushed yourself into his lap. your boyfriend nearly hissed. you let your thighs rub against his crotch before you slid away from him. nicholas groaned, rushing to catch you, hands fumbling hungrily, dragging you back to him, his palm hot on the dip of your spine, caressing the slope of your ass in that red lace, giving it a light, experimental slap which made you clench in surprise. you liked that. you definitely wanted more of that. but you didn’t want to lose focus. you reached for the mug on the nightstand.

fuck, how were you making jasmine tea sexy?

you were determined to drink your tea, like you did every night. you gulped it down sloppily, letting the liquid spill down you chin, into your bustier, between your breasts.

he didn’t need you to say it. he was the definition of thirsty. he lunged for you with a growl. he started with your lips and drank his way down.

the second growl that escaped his mouth when the clasps gave way to his fingers, made you want to wear lingerie to bed every night, no matter how uncomfortable.

but it’s when you were finally, truly naked with him and he could see every part of you that you’d always hidden that you felt truly present. no longer invisible.

he paused for breath, staring down at you.

“you’re all i want,” he murmured hoarsely, bending down to kiss the side of your throat.

you ran your hand tenderly through his hair and settled it on the bundle of muscles between his shoulder blades.

“i want you more,” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss there, and the man on top of you shuddered with want and the acceptance that someone else wanted him in return.

"say it again," he spoke against your mouth. you obliged.

you told him exactly how you felt about him as he sank inside you, again and again, until you couldn't anymore, until the words were rendered useless in your mouth.

rip eumppappa ❤️

nct dream mlst

pairing — ot6 x f!reader

genre — fluff, fake texts

「 jeno. 」

「 renjun. 」

「 haechan. 」

「 jaemin. 」

「 chenle. 」

「 jisung. 」

&team mlst

pairing — nakakita yuma x f!reader

warnings — softdom bf!yuma, pussy eating, hella overstim, bondage, squint and yuyu has a corruption kink

note — honestly this is just from horny hours, so sorry, but nonetheless thank you for taking the time to read this sin

“i don’t understand why i have to be in handcuffs, though,” you pout, regarding him under heavy eyelids as he inches down your body.

he chuckles at the way goosebumps immediately erupt upon touch, dragging his fingertips down to your thighs as he settles in between your legs.

“‘cause it’s more fun like this~” yuma teases and for a moment, you can see the obvious red glint in his eyes before they drop down to your waiting sweet spot.

his smirk grows wider, more obvious the longer he stares with lust. yuma’s tongue darts out to wet the surface of his lips before gently spreading - no, prying your hesitation apart, and never leaving sight of it.

yuma can tell that you’re nervous, considering this would be your first time someone’s ever gone down on you.

more importantly, him going down on you. come on, it’s yuma- you don’t really know what to expect.

as his face inches closer to where you need him, the hotness of his breath hitting your skin escalates the chill even more- the slight fear in your eyes only fuels his need to corrupt you.

hooking both of his arms around each of your thighs, the mischievous boy leans down to softly nip at the soft fat of your inner thighs without breaking eye contact — your very weakness: his perfect eyes.

“you don’t get to touch me yet, kitten,” he mumbles against your skin and continues nibbling on it. god, he’s so fucking close…

being restricted and having to entrust your entire body to him makes you even more anxious, especially when you’re so exposed like this for his hungry eyes to prey upon.

so vulnerable, and yuma’s loving it.

“not gonna lie, yum,” you gulp, “i’m kinda nervous…” but the satisfied grin growing on his face when he pulls his lips off doesn’t lie either- he’s definitely getting off on this.

“it’s okay. just leave everything to me, yeah?” although, your boyfriend is smiling and caressing your thighs, the devilish hint in his voice makes it hard for you to believe him. “i’ll take care of you.”

oh, god. yuma’s gonna have the time of his life taking your pure pussy to himself.

“i want you to watch me, kitten. don’t look away for a second,” he tilts his head, pouting like he’s innocent, “got it?”

as soon as yuma earns your stuttering nod, he slowly dips his head down to your neediness, never breaking eye contact. besides, you look sexy as fuck from this angle.

his nose and mouth completely disappear from your view and that’s when your thighs suddenly tense up at the feeling - the feeling of something wet and warm tickling up your puffy slit.

you gasp softly at the unfamiliarity, shoulders tensing out of instinct. his tongue- it’s…it’s different.

maybe it was yuma’s endless teasing prior to this, but you’re already dripping with so much desperation at this point that you’d love to push his head down onto your cunt had he not tied you up.

and the way your hips instantly twitch up towards his face when he pulls off is more than enough to boost his fat ego.

so, he rewards you of yet another long lick up your slit, but this time, with more pressure. just so he can mess with you a bit.

“mmng, y-yuma…”

“hm?”

“i…i want more,” you’re close to whining, sounding slightly pathetic but you don’t even care. god, you need him so bad.

it’s exactly what he wants to hear. but yuma wants to have his fun first, so he merely hums in response, “i know, baby. patience…you taste so fucking good already…”

knowing you don’t have much of a choice, yuma chuckles at your cute glare and little huffs, watching your frustrated expression quickly fade into pleasure the moment he presses his warm mouth against where your clit is hiding.

the tip of tongue skillfully navigates through your folds in order to find the little bud- which doesn’t take him long to do so, and even lesser time to wrap his fat lips around it.

yuma sucks lightly- with barely any pressure, but it’s enough for your brows to pull together and nails to dig into your palms. fuck, his mouth is already doing so much and he’s only just starting.

here’s when your legs start squirming over his broad shoulders, because he doesn’t stop teasing it- going from kitten licks to continuously sucking on it and playing with your sanity at the same time.

and his hold on your thighs stay pretty loose, delicate fingers only squeezing your soft fat gently to comfort you.

you’ve never felt this before. it’s so new yet…it feels like you’re in the clouds- so close to heaven.

but maybe it’s the fact that he’s so relaxed and knows exactly what he’s doing to make you feel this way- to make you feel this good.

you’re too lost in pleasure at this point to notice your hips mindlessly rolling up against yuma’s face, helping him work his magic- alternating between dragging his tongue up and down your slit to sucking on your precious bud.

yuma’s so fucking good at it that you don’t realize how close you actually are.

oh, but he knows. your boyfriend’s made you cum so many times- how could he miss the change of pace in your breathing, or the cute little clenching of your lower abdomen?

you take deep breaths to somewhat calm yourself as you let his tongue tenderly lave between your folds.

but the pleasure’s building up too fast for that, spreading the kind of hotness in your head that would confuse you with a fever.

all of a sudden, his arms aren’t so relaxed anymore- tightening around them enough so that your legs can no longer squirm freely over his shoulders.

of course, your quick-witted boyfriend knows exactly when you’re about to cum- you don’t even have to warn him, but you know yuma prefers that you at least try to.

unfortunately, your poor attempt is cut short at the sudden quickening his tongue. it’s faster and more abrasive- almost like he’s making it harder for you on purpose.

“c-cum-“ you squeak out as your eyes screw shut, trying to ignore how fast his flat tongue slides back and forth against your little bud, “sh-shit- gonna…c-cum-“

“y-yu-“ the whimpers and whines just won’t stop- barely giving you enough breath to finish his name. that’s because you’re losing your fucking mind the moment he decides to latch his entire mouth onto your cunt.

with his wet lips attached to your needy cunt, you can’t take much longer. especially when he starts making those loud, slurping noises with his mouth- blatantly, because yuma knows it drives you fucking nuts.

they sound so dirty and vulgar, bouncing around in a stuffy room like this, and all you can really make out is the bunting of his head. otherwise, his eyes and nose are a blur with everything else.

oh, how you wish you could touch him right now- entangling your hands in his hair, or pulling him further in- but you can only do so much tugging so pitifully at the restraints as you break apart in his grasp, lips parting and eyes fluttering at the mercy of his mouth.

you’d think that cumming inside his mouth would be enough satisfaction for the both of you.

but in the midst of licking you down from your high, yuma realizes how addicting you taste and changes his mind.

since you didn’t say his name like he would’ve loved, he’ll give you another chance at redemption- while also punishing you for failing to do so in the first place.

your eyes shoot open instantly upon feeling his mouth latch back onto your slit again.

the dark look returning in his eyes says it all: he’s gonna make you cum again.

“y-yum- fuck-“ you hiss through your teeth, pressing your head further into your pillow as he glues his sadistic lips back to your clit.

the pressure- no, abuse on your poor bud has you whimpering and hips twitching away from his face. but no matter where or how much you move, his lips chase your swollen clit to no end- sucking the second he touches it.

so, yuma gets tired of your little squirming and firmly hugs your thighs against the sides of his face, tight to where your knees are nearly touching each other at this point.

“c-can’t- please!”

the boy ignores your cries and begins pressing his tongue into you- fucking it in and out of you until you choke on your own sob deliriously.

the tensing and clenching of your legs doesn’t stop him, but instead encourages him to push his tongue in deeper.

you want yuma’s lips off, yet you don’t want him to stop, already feeling the height of your second orgasm teasing at the pits of your abdomen.

you’re supposed to be pushing him away- it’s too overwhelming.

but your legs betray you and trap his head in anyway, keeping his mouth against your cunt so that you know nothing but his tongue.

you’d apologize to him if you could, but in the moment, you can only recall the syllables of his name. but despite chanting them countlessly in your head, they fail to get past your lips.

you can feel it already. turning your head to the side, you lightly bite into your arm in attempt to conceal your lewd, almost pornographic sounds.

any moment now, and yuma won’t be the only one exposed to your noises.

some gasps are shakier than others, but undoubtedly, you’ve gotten louder in the last ten seconds to signal your incoming ecstasy.

so, yuma unwraps an arm to harshly squeeze your thigh, repeatedly pressing his fingers into your fat as his tongue fucks the relief into you- forcing another orgasm upon your poor being.

if only yuma could see your face now, how it sours up with the shock: lips unevenly puckered and eyes crossed. not to mention your cries and whimpers spilling out in clusters.

if he wasn’t as focused on making you cum so hard, he’d witness the priceless ahegao look on your face; lewd and madly fucked out.

yuma’s grip stays as you tremble through your orgasmic rhythm. it’s so fucking intense that you don’t even know where you are.

you can’t really process much of anything right now, nor do you even want to. the boy finally lifts his head off of you, breaking a string mixed of his saliva and your sweet, sweet juices.

and for the first time in the past thirty or so minutes, you feel actual relief. you can’t get too comfortable though- just in case his sadistic self decides he’s still thirsty for more.

the two of you fill the hot room with heavy breathes and pants, catching your breaths like you’ve just run a marathon.

your hands stay limp above your head as your legs loosen around his, sliding off his shoulders all pitiful.

you know what yuma does next?

despite your light twitches and tremors, your boyfriend leans down to leave the softest kisses along your inner thighs.

and now you’re debating whether or not you could take a third round, feeling horny all over again. sigh, the effect that he has…

but as you’re busy admiring him from this angle, yuma takes the chance to glaze his two slim fingers up your dripping cunt in a single swift swipe- scaring a gasp out of you before bringing them up to your lips.

he chuckles at your twitch but his fingertips playfully prod at your bottom lip, urging you to open up. “you wanna taste yourself, don’t you?”

huh. maybe your boyfriend is nice enough to spare you a taste.

you part your lips to take his fingers, but to your surprise, yuma pulls away instead and quickly slips them into his own mouth to suck them clean of your juices, right in front of your face. what a brat.

scoffing, you’re forced to wait until yuma finally pulls off his fingers with a pop, offering you a mischievous, teasing grin, “mine.”

txt mlst

pairing — choi soobin x f!reader

genre — fluff, bf!soobin

warnings — sfw/nsfw

⤷ so protective. he’s always on the phone with you if you’re not together. ‘are you okay’ ‘get home fast okay?’ ‘bunny don’t scare me like that. get home!’ he is fully aware of what men are capable of and if they find you before he’s able to get to you.. his world crumbles. absolutely nothing bad can happen to you.

⤷ not shy. this may sound weird since others may think this but he’s not shy around you. he’s very open. tells you exactly what his thoughts are even if they’re a bit inappropriate. no, he’s not afraid to say it.

⤷ “let me pack you lunch for today, wait here.”

⤷ he adores your hands. they’re smaller than his own and he thinks that’s so cute. he’ll kiss them gently and hold them against his chest. the warmth of his own hand and chest brings warmth to you and your body.

⤷ “you’re my pretty girl. always going to be my pretty girl. am i your pretty boy, hm? i better be.”

⤷ loves a good night in. movies and snacks are his absolute favorite. he’ll keep you close to him while the movie plays, occasionally feeding you some of the popcorn or m&ms but only if you kiss him. he’ll ask for a kiss and each time he does, the kiss deepens until you’re on his lap. slow makeouts that last for hours.

⤷ speaking of that, he’s HUGE on making out. he loves it so much. believe it or not but he could go for hours of making out without anything more. sure he’ll touch you in certain places and want you to touch him in those places too but he can just makeout with you and not need anything else. it’s just so intimate to him.

⤷ hopes to travel with you. wants to take you all over korea, showing you the most beautiful places. he’s huge on taking photos of you both. mainly for his home screen. he’ll just randomly buy tickets to jeju and off you both go!

⤷ jerks off and wants you to watch. he’ll either be propped up on the bed or sitting in the chair in the room and stares at you while he jerks off. it’s even better if you nod your head and tell him how good he’s doing. he’ll bite down on his lip and beg you to keep going because he’s oh so close and you keep going.

⤷ the most kind, gentle, sweet, and loving man in the world. he’s a pure gentleman. opening doors for you, cleaning up after dinner, keeping things clean for you so you don’t have to do it. buys you gifts that you can use for yourself or around the house. things that are needed but also something you can really enjoy.

⤷ “i love you so much. i can’t wait to marry you.”

⤷ he’s rough and soft during sex. this depends on what you’re in the mood for. he’ll ask you, even if he wants to be a certain way, he asks. if you’re wanting to be soft and he’s not? who cares what he thinks. he’s soft with you. slow with you. he’ll wait to be rough a different time when you’re more in the mood for it.

⤷ sends you pictures of himself when you’re not with him. some are cute, others are work yeonjun, and the rest? not so innocent. he’ll send you super duper risky ones. maybe his shirt pulled up, the shirt being in his mouth. his pants low. he’ll send you pictures of him biting his lip or sticking a finger in his mouth.

⤷ “do you like the pictures i send? hot huh?”

txt mlst

pairing — choi beomgyu x f!reader

genre — angst to fluff, arguments, established relationship

syn — a petty fight turns into three days of stubborn silence.

fighting with beomgyu wasn’t unusual. in fact, it was almost a part of your daily routine. the two of you weren’t the type to bottle things up—you argued, bickered, and then made up like nothing happened. usually, within a day, one of you would crack, and things would go back to normal.

but this time was different.

this time, neither of you wanted to be the first to give in.

and what made it worse? the fight wasn’t even about something serious. it was about the most ridiculous thing—whether pineapple belonged on pizza. or maybe it was about who left the bathroom light on. or who’s turn it was to wash the dishes. honestly, you didn’t even remember. all you knew was that it spiraled into a stubborn battle of cold shoulders and ignored texts.

three days had passed. three days of tense silence, side-eyeing each other at home, and dramatically walking past one another like you were starring in a k-drama. it was getting ridiculous, but neither of you wanted to break first.

beomgyu, being his usual competitive self, decided to take things up a notch. if ignoring each other wasn’t working, maybe making you jealous would. so, like the genius (read: idiot) he was, he asked his female colleague to lunch. the girl who had made it painfully obvious she liked him.

and of course, fate had you walking into the same restaurant.

beomgyu saw you before you saw him.

his heart sped up. perfect. he leaned in slightly, laughing at something the girl said—making sure you’d notice.

he waited for your reaction. maybe a glare. a scoff. something.

but you didn’t.

you glanced at them once, then walked past like he wasn’t even there.

no double take. no narrowed eyes. no storming over to call him out.

just... nothing.

beomgyu felt his stomach drop. he felt his confidence crack. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

this wasn’t the plan.

he stabbed at his food, barely listening to the girl across from him. he kept stealing glances at you, but you were just chatting with your friend like he didn’t exist. you weren’t even pretending to be mad. you just were.

now he was panicking.

was this it? had he actually messed up this time?

after barely touching his food, he couldn’t take it anymore. he got up, walking straight to your table.

you glanced up, looking unimpressed. “can i help you?”

beomgyu winced. “can we talk?”

you scoff with a dry laugh. “oh, now you wanna talk?”

your friend, who sits across from you, gives you an understanding look before excusing herself to give you and beomgyu some space to talk.

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he sits in the chair beside you. “look, i was being dumb. i thought if i made you jealous, you’d talk to me first.” he hesitated, then mumbled, “but it just made things worse.”

you crossed your arms. “no kidding.”

beomgyu pouted, crouching slightly so he was eye-level with you. “please y/n, let’s stop this. i don’t even remember why we fought in the first place.”

you stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “i think it was about pineapple on pizza.”

his lips twitched. “right. and you were wrong, obviously.”

that earned him a kick under the table. he yelped, but when he saw you almost smile, he knew he was in the clear.

“lunch?” he offered, hopeful. “just us?”

you rolled your eyes but grabbed your things. “you’re paying.”

beomgyu grinned. “always.”

and just like that, things were back to normal.

&team mlst

pairing — koga yudai x f!reader

genre — fluff, established relationship

warnings — suggestive? (mentions smut but it’s not detailed), hickeys/bite marks

syn — (link for ref). k loves to leave hickeys all over your body

in the soft glow of the morning light, your tired, bleary eyes glide over deep splotches in hues of red and purple. the colors are angry, but the man behind them was anything but — your cheeks warm as you think back to the previous night.

you’d both had gone out with his friends, just for two or three hours, but a few glasses of wine was always sure to make yudai more handsy than usual. by the time you’d made it back to your apartment, the mottled, alcohol-fueled roses on his cheeks and neck had faded away, instead being replaced with darkened eyes and spit-swollen lips. you were both barely through the front entryway before you were yanking off each other’s clothes, creating a breadcrumb trail of garments — yudai’s pants and socks, your bralette and blouse.

you fucked until your limbs resembled jelly and your oversensitive muscles shook from orgasms. you didn’t remember much about yudai leaving trails of bite marks and hickeys down the column of your throat and over the peaks of your chest, but it was apparent he’d taken his time nipping over your skin. you bite your lip as your fingers run over the well-loved areas, blinking when yudai comes up from behind you. in the bathroom mirror, he hums, his eyes still puffy with sleep. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against his chest, his palm pushing up the oversized sleep shirt you wore.

“left some here, too,” he says in a tired, groveled voice. he gently pulls at the inside of your left thigh and a soft gasp departs your lips. chuckling, he softly presses his fingertips into the bruise. “it okay, i’ll help you cover them up.”

“don’t,” you breathe, eyelashes flittering. “i like them. i know you do too.”

he nods, dipping his face into the crook of your neck, “i love them. love leaving them, love seeing them the next morning.”

“leave another,” you encouraged breezily, tilting your head to the side. “you missed a spot, anyway.”

yudai smirks. you watched as his lips latch onto the patch of skin, whimpering softly as he sucks. it’s gentler than last night, but you can still feel his cock thickening up against your ass, tenting the material of the boxer briefs he wears. when he finally departs, his eyes slide over his newest work, humming in content.

“always so beautiful for me,” he murmurs lowly. your core pulsates and you allow him to spin you in his arms, turning to see his pretty, sleepy face.

you both know where you’re heading next, and neither of you could care less.

nct dream mlst

pairing — lee haechan x f!reader

genre — fluff, b-day fic, established relationship

warnings — suggestive, mentions sex but there’s no smut

syn — in which you forgot haechan’s birthday and he demands 26 kisses in return.

hyuck was sulking. well, not sulking, but he was angry. well, no, not angry, exactly, either. hyuck was something, though, and you couldn’t quite figure out what. distant. withdrawn. quiet. yes. he was definitely quiet. that was never a good sign and you’re watching and waiting, waiting for donghyuck to do…something. stop being quiet, mostly. and not quiet in a pensive, thoughtful way, but in a i-have-things-i-could-say-right-now-but-i-won’t-because-bad-things-will-happen-if-i-do way.

it was becoming a bit unsettling as the day went on and your yapper of a boyfriend kept being quiet. it was unsettling and worrying. normally he’d pout and whine around you if he were upset. but he didn’t do any of those things. you had even tried bribing him. he loved bribes: cuddles, food, sex.

still, nothing.

apparently, extreme measures were needed. you decided to try again the next day, when donghyuck would hopefully be more amendable.

“hyuck,” you said, squaring your shoulders and padding close to the table. donghyuck looked up from his breakfast food and looked up at you. good. that was good. “i’m…sorry.”

you tried very hard to not end that sentence with a question mark.

donghyuck tilted his head. his fingers were curled around his coffee mug. “all right.” he waited. you waited for him to stop waiting. “for what, exactly?”

you huffed out a breath. “well. you know.”

donghyuck waited some more. “well, yes, i do. but, i want to hear you say it, just so i know we’re both on the same page.”

you huffed louder. “i’m…sorry i’ve hurt you.”

donghyuck nodded. he chewed. he swallowed. he waited. “and?”

you gripped the chair back. “i’m sorry i’ve been a neglectful girlfriend.”

donghyuck chewed some more. he was a very thorough chewer. his digestive system would thank him for that. finally, he swallowed. “you’re getting closer.”

“i’m…very sorry that i’ve been getting in late.”

donghyuck waited. his gaze was very steady but not cold. however, the annoyance was evident on his face as the quietness spun out. you felt sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “and?”

you panicked. and what? what else could there be? you licked dry lips.

“i’m sorry i…bought the wrong milk? didn’t clean up after myself? didn’t do that one thing you wanted me to do in the bedroom last week?”

he finally decided to give you a break.

“you forgot my birthday, y/n.” he said casually, but donghyuck’s hands were trembling slightly. it must be taking everything in him to not start an argument.

you felt your heart sink to your stomach. how could you forget? how forgiving will he be? unfortunately, these things can happen with even the closest people in your life.

“hyuckie,” you sighed as you sat next to him, “i am so unbelievably sorry that i forgot your birthday, yesterday. can you please forgive me?”

“do i have a choice? you’re my girlfriend.” he rolled his eyes but ultimately smiled.

“then, happy belated birthday!”

“thank you.”

you nodded, honestly surprised at how he was handling this calmly and maturely. you waited a full minute. “right. well. we’re good then?”

donghyuck shook his head. “no. not yet. you still owe me.”

“owe you?” you processed.

“yes.” donghyuck sipped his cup, then made a face like it was too hot, but it couldn’t have been, so he was making a face about something else, maybe about what he was going to say next. you waited. you felt unaccountably nervous. “you need to make it up to me. for all the pain and suffering you caused.”

“a little dramatic but whatever,” you pulled out your phone and opened your calendar, “so what are you thinking? party? gifts? a weekend getaway?”

“no, no.” donghyuck shook his head. “nothing like that.”

“no?”

“no.”

you swallowed. what? laundry for a month? three months? grocery shopping? cooking?

“how…then?”

hyuck took another bite of his breakfast. “twenty-six kisses. one kiss. every day.”

you smirked and crossed your arms. “okay. you’re on.”

“and if you miss any days for any reason, even if you’re not here, you have to make it up with a full minute make out session.”

“let’s make it an hour. put those lungs of yours to good use.” you added with a cheeky smile.

“fine. then, we’ll begin?”

you nodded. “sure. whenever you’re ready.”

“i’m ready now.” hyuck closed his eyes and puckered his lips.

you giggled, staring at his face for a moment. you brushed his hair from his forehead and scanned his features. you could stare at him forever. but when donghyuck realized how long you were taking, beginning to make smooching noises with his lips, you finally leaned over and pressed your lips to the top of donghyuck warm, soft head instead.

one.

“wha- aegiya!” he whined, offended.

and, so it began.

day two: you kissed his forehead.

day three: a feathery kiss on his cheek.

day four: you kiss the icing off his chin from the cake you made him.

day five: a quick peck when you’re almost late for work, like an unfinished goodbye.

day six: on his temple when you came home late and found him sleeping.

day seven: you playfully kiss his nose after he complained about how the one before shouldn’t count because he was not awake.

day eight: leaving a princely kiss on the back of his hand.

day nine: the left side of his ear, followed by a nibble.

day ten: his shoulder when giving him a back hug.

day eleven: the corner of his mouth after he complained about you not kissing his lips yet.

day twelve: his lips finally, to shut him up as he began to argue with you for taking forever to kiss him there.

day thirteen and fourteen: making out with him, as promised, for missing a day, with you on top, making him feel soft. you’re pinning his wrists down on either side of his head to keep his hands from wandering, but his hips are unable to stop moving.

day fifteen: you choose his neck - it feels so delicate when he grips your waist when you linger a little longer than you should have been.

day sixteen: on his collarbone, biting and leaving a mark before soothing his skin with a tender kiss.

day seventeen: when you are playing video games so you press a kiss anywhere available; just anywhere to distract him.

day eighteen: out in public you subtly kissed the inside of his wrist.

day nineteen: an early morning kiss, its barely even lips touching, more like you’re kissing his chin because you’re both so tired in the early morning haze.

day twenty: the moles on his cheek.

day twenty-one: the moles on his neck.

day twenty-two: teasing his cupid’s bow.

day twenty-three: his index finger, sucking obscenely on it just to annoy him.

day twenty-four: he decided to kiss you first, hot and breathless, all lips and sighs and the soft drag of his mouth against yours like he missed you, like he couldn’t wait a second longer.

day twenty-five: a lazy smooch where you’re both under the blankets, comfy and warm against one another and you’re both just so relaxed and trading kisses back and forth.

on day twenty-six, donghyuck waited. his breath caught, his heart pounding in his ears, and you still hadn’t kissed him yet. he had been watching you almost the entire time since you came home from work, unable to fight back the pout on his face. his impatient side demanded he simply lean in and kiss you, but he couldn't let that happen.

it was beginning to get annoying, really. you were doing everything but kissing him. plating dinner, doing laundry, scrolling on your phone. his side-eye could quite literally burn holes into your face.

this was the reason he started this. because you forgot.

“are you forgetting something?” hyuck asked through gritting teeth. “again,” he added.

you looked up, brows drawing together as you stared at him. you cooked, you cleaned, you took care of all the little tasks around the apartment.

donghyuck leaned forward, tapping his finger against his puckered lips.

“mmm…nope. i don’t think i’m forgetting anything.”

he rolled his eyes, puckered lips tightening with a whimper.

you laughed, reaching to cup his face. “i forgot,” you admittedly said. “it’s cute that you can’t live without my kisses.”

“no. you just need to learn that it’s the bare minimum to remember an important day and forgetting has its—”

you rolled your eyes this time and shut him up with a final kiss. your lips brushed against his in the softest chaste caress.

donghyuck’s resolve broke as your lips parted, his own opening enough for him to taste you. a shameless moan escapes his throat as you brought your fingers up to his hair, and he couldn’t open his eyes. if he did, it would be the end.

but you had ended it. when you pulled away you were already breathing heavily. truthfully, donghyuck still felt a little disappointed. you could have asked him to keep going and he wouldn't even be able to think of saying no.

that wasn’t what this was, though. just a punctuation to mark the twenty-sixth kiss.

“and one for good luck,” you pressed one more gentle peck against his lips.

donghyuck licked his bottom lip to savor the taste and slowly releasing it with his teeth. “imagine if i had asked for sex for twenty-six days.” he chuckled but you could see the moment he began to regret it as soon as he thought of it.

“hmm, i’m imagining it…” you hummed, pretending to create a picture in your head, “but i can’t really see it.” you shrug with a teasing smirk.

“you should forget my twenty-seventh birthday.” he suggested, making you roll your eyes and walk away from him. but he followed, unwavering. “seriously, y/n. that’s twenty-seven different positions every day…”

nct dream mlst

pairing — college bf!jeno x f!reader

genre — fluff, (barely) suggestive, college au

syn — you’re running late, but jeno doesn’t seem to care. apparently, he’s got all the time in the world to make you stay.

you were already ten minutes late to class.

your tote bag’s stuffed lazily, headphones tangled in your hand, and there’s a quiz you absolutely can’t miss. but none of that matters right now, because jeno’s walking slowly beside you on purpose, hand brushing yours every few steps.

“you’re gonna be fine,” he murmurs, tilting his head down to look at you.

“i’m already late,” you say, quickening your pace.

he tugs gently at your shoulder strap, just enough to slow you down again. “you could be later.”

you glance at him. “i could fail.”

“you could skip.” he stops walking completely, shrugging. you try to keep moving but his hand is warm on your wrist now, easing you toward the shadowed hallway off to the side of the main one. you could protest, but god, you’re not made of stone.

his back hits the wall first, but then he pulls you around the corner and switches positions so it’s your back against the cold block and his hands resting on your hips. he’s close, not too close, but just close enough to make your stomach drop.

“jeno,” you whisper.

“hm?”

“i really need to go.”

his other fingers graze your hip, just barely, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt like normal. like it he wasn't on the brink of driving you crazy.

“you sure?” his voice drops a little. he leans in, his lips near your jaw. “you don’t wanna stay with me?”

you do. god, you really do.

“i studied so hard for this quiz,” you say, almost breathless because of how warm his mouth is, how his thumb’s stroking lazy circles on your waist.

“cute,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear now. “just let me distract you.”

you press your hand to his chest. not to push him away. but really just to feel him. his heartbeat is steady, calm, like he’s got all the time in the world to keep you pressed between him and this wall.

“if i miss it, i’ll have to beg the professor to let me retake it,” you say, eyes flicking up to meet his.

he smirks. you could already sense the remark coming your way. “or you could practice begging with me.”

you bite back a smile. “you’re so annoying.”

“you love me anyway.”

his forehead touches yours, noses brushing, his breath warm as his hand curls more securely around your waist. you lean in just enough to test it, like you might kiss him if you didn’t know better.

he almost kisses you first.

almost.

but then he pulls back with a quiet groan, hands sliding off you, running his fingers through his hair, like he needs to cool himself off.

“go,” he mutters reluctantly, stepping back. “before i change my mind.”

you stare at him for a beat. “you sure?”

he exhales through his nose. “absolutely not.”

you grin, heart pounding, and start walking backwards toward class. he watches you go, hands stuffed in his pockets like he didn’t just try to pin you to the wall on a thursday morning.

you’re barely halfway down the hall when he calls after you.

“you’re mine after,” he says, loud enough to make your stomach twist.

nct dream mlst

pairing — nonidol!haechan x f!reader

genre — fluff, intimate, soft times!

syn — there is a theory that the spot where your beauty marks are, is where your soulmate have placed a kiss.

you and donghyuck tangled up in the blanket, the atmosphere calm and silent, just the feel of your boyfriend's fingers drawing random patterns on your back as he wishes he could pull you even closer to his body― despite the heat.

"you're so pretty," you said as you gaze at his tranquil face. his eyes were just closed, but donghyuck opened one of them to look at you with that nonchalant expression. therefore, he cut his act and snuggled his head onto the crook of your neck.

"you're even prettier, naekkeo," with a muffled voice, he replies to your compliment. the heat coming out of his mouth and laying against your neck made shivers go down to your spine.

"you know what i love about your face?"

donghyuck frowns as he glances up at you. "about my face?"

you hum and you continue: "your beauty marks."

"my beauty... marks?"

"your beauty marks," you nod your head.

"why is that?"

you shrug a bit as you think if you should or not should tell him about the soulmate theory.

"because i think they're pretty, so what?" you tease him, placing your hands on both of his cheeks and rubbing your thumb against his soft skin.

"there's nothing about it," donghyuck smirks and went to steal a peck from your lips. "and you know what i love about you?"

"not about my face?"

"not about your face." he shakes his head, making you feel kind of bad for making that compliment mainly about his face.

"what is it?"

"it's how- i can't even explain in words," he pauses, observing every single feature constituting your face. "you just feel like... comfort. you are welcoming― cozy; and, of course, beautiful."

you smile at his words, "you know, now i'm feeling kind of bad because i complimented your looks..." you admit, pouting, still caressing his cheeks. you notice a frown form in his face after he kissed his teeth.

"tsk, nonsense." he steals another peck from you.

and a few minutes of adoration covered by silence lingered in the air. however, you quickly shook that air away, "hyuck," he hums with his eyes closed again. "wanna hear something corny but cool?" your boyfriend slowly opened his eyes.

"what is it?" he pulls you closer while glancing up at you.

"did you know that there is a theory that," you pause before placing a peck somewhere on his face, "each beauty mark" *peck*, "we have on our bodies" *peck*, "means is where our soulmate placed a kiss on our" *peck*, "past lives...?" you make a rhetorical question.

"really?" donghyuck doesn't sound amused, until suddenly your face began to be showered with kisses instead.

"what are you doing?" you manage to ask between giggles and pecks.

your boyfriend smooches your lips, "making sure your face has freckles in your next life!"

"you know that they're different, right?"

you notice the way his smile kind of dropped, but he shrugged and said: "you'll have beauty marks as pretty as mine in your next life, then."

and he continues placing hundreds and thousands of kisses on your face and neck this time.

"let's place a kiss on the same spot so we can have the same beauty mark so we encounter ourselves in our next life, see the mole and think we are soulmates for life!" your boyfriend says, excitedly.

"but what if we're not soulma-" he shushes you with another smooch.

"shut up, otherwise your lips will be covered with moles!"

txt mlst

pairing — choi soobin x f!reader

genre — fluff, comfort/cozy

warning — nsfw content

soobin didn’t mean to stay up until three a.m., but when there was a brand new dlc for his favorite video game, it was a near given.

when he finally drags fuzzy sock-clad feet to his bedroom, a rush of warmth consumes his chest when his eyes settle on you sound asleep and sprawled across the expanse of his mattress.

linen comforter fisted in your hand, your pouty lips parted softly as quiet snores sound from your mouth. he smiles to himself, kind and loving, as he tiptoes over the fluffy carpeting, gentle fingertips reaching out to brush across your forehead. as usual, you’re stretched diagonally from corner to corner of his cozy bedding — he hates having to wake you up in the middle of the night, shifting your sleeping form to your designated side (soobin always sleeps on the left, even when you’re not staying over — it’s yours, through and through).

he swallows as he tenderly slips an arm around your waist. it’s particularly warm these days, leading bright sunny days into sticky, bleary evenings. sweat seems to permeate your soft skin as he quietly coos in the shell of your ear; a response to the sharp draw of breath from your nose when you come to, allowing him to reposition your body with minimal protest.

he tucks himself into your side, assuming the position of big spoon. both your bodies seem to cling together from the honeyed sweat painting each of your forms, but neither of you minded in the moment. in an hour or two, you’ll both wake up on opposite ends of the bed but for now, soobin can’t fathom the thought of not being pressed up against your warmth beside him.

he’s surprised when a wordy mumble breaks the silence of the dark room. the only other sound is the ceiling fan rotating above you both, just fast enough to create an ongoing and much-needed breeze. a “hm?” breaks free from his throat as he reaches up to caress the side of your face. unsure if you’re sleep-talking or awake, he presses a fluttering kiss to the space just below your earlobe.

“it’s late,” you repeat. the syllables sound thick and groggy but he still understands, nodding into your neck.

“i know, i’m sorry bunny,” he murmurs, “was really into my new game.”

a sleepy sigh followed by your foot hooking over his ankle — you back up against his body, your ass to his crotch, your back to his chest. impossibly closer.

“it’s okay.”

the silence returns as his thumb draws circles into your bare hip, just below where your (his) tee-shirt falls. he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep when you hum, eyelashes flittering as you moved onto your back. he looks down at puffy eyes, bedridden hair, fading lovebites peeking beneath the neckline of his shirt. a vision of heaven, he thinks.

“you wanna?” you ask, unhurried and hushed. he knows what you meant. the two of you do this sometimes when you both wake up in the middle of the night or he’s just ending a gaming marathon. in a gloomy twilight bedroom, your inner thighs burning as you ride him, skin slapping, catching one another’s breathy moans in wet kisses—or you on all fours, filthy sentiments spilling from his mouth while he pumps his cock inside of you, prying your cheeks open for his viewing pleasure. a dirty picture meant for only each other, hours after you’ve bared your body to the open web.

“yeah,” he breathes, his length already hardening underneath his briefs. it’s somewhat of a rehearsed dance as you pull your shirt up and over your chest, nipples peaking from the ceiling fan’s breeze. he’s just as fast in his efforts, cock bumping against your lower stomach as he loops long fingers around the base, squeezing just hard enough to elicit a throaty groan.

foreplay isn’t needed or wanted for your late night escapades, even if it takes him a few tries to fit his cock between your walls. it only makes you press your fingernails deeper into his muscled shoulder blades; an experiment of slight pain and denial on either side, a test neither of you are interested in failing. finally, he’s in, balls tight and swollen and snuggled up against you, the sound of your whimpery pants overwhelming his senses.

when he begins to move, it’s familiar and it’s comfortable and good— so good, as he sits up against his heels to watch his length bully itself inside over and over again. wet and slick, entirely too consuming for you both.

the only source of light is the moon, high and mighty in the sky, streaming in through the curtained window of his bedroom. it’s like a disco ball shimmering its pride over your contorted face; pretty, nostalgic, and an image he yearns to commit to memory. a permanent polaroid he tucks into his hippocampus.

he hopes that the next time the disco ball invites you to party, he’s by your side once again, bright and gleaming.

nct dream mlst

pairing — zhong chenle x f!reader

genre — fluff, comfort, possibly more than friends

you hadn’t meant to steal it.

really, you hadn’t.

but it was cold that night, and chenle had shrugged off his oversized hoodie without hesitation, draping it over your shoulders before you could even finish complaining about the breeze.

“there,” he said simply, the sleeves swallowing your hands completely. “problem solved.”

you hadn’t taken it off since.

it smells like him. like laundry detergent and that cologne he only wears on lazy days. it’s soft and just slightly too big in the way that makes it feel safe, like you’re being held even when he’s not near you.

he hadn’t asked for it back. and you weren’t about to bring it up.

until today.

he catches you wearing it again when he walks through your front door, keys jingling in his hand. he pauses, mid-step, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he closes the door behind him.

“still wearing that?” he teases lightly.

you freeze. heart jumping. “i can give it back.

you don’t mean to sound nervous, but you do. it’s not just a hoodie. not really. not when it’s his. not when it’s warm and safe and smells like someone you maybe love a little too much to admit.

he blinks at you like your offer doesn’t make any sense.

then he shrugs, kicking off his shoes and walking toward you with that casual, unbothered confidence that always makes your stomach twist.

“nah,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch. “you can keep it.”

he says it like it’s nothing.

but your heart? it flips. crashes. scrambles to catch up.

you glance at him, like maybe he didn’t mean it, like maybe you heard him wrong. but he’s already picking up the remote and leaning back like he didn’t just hand you the entire sky in a throwaway sentence.

you tuck your knees up to your chest, bury your face in the collar.

it’s still warm.

he doesn’t see your smile. but you think he knows it’s there.