#enbies

Non-binary folks can identify as biologically non-binary even!

Seonghwa | Hongjoong | Yunho | San | Mingi

Prompt: You’re best friends with (ATEEZ member) and are in need of a little no-strings loving; could he be the one to help with that?

Warning: Smut (obviously, hello). Mentions of sh/scars/mental abuse and mental illness (no depictions of it though)

*Tags: Afab, non-binary reader! (I was requested a piece w/ Yeosang w/ a non-binary reader who has SH scars; I wanted to merge the request with this thread of imagines! If I get anything wrong, I'm rlly sorry. Gonna do my best to represent y'all respectfully and accurately, though I know it's a spectrum within itself <3)

A/n: This is gonna be a bunch of parts (one for each member) and I will be uploading in installments. Okay bye <3.

4.) Yeosang

"Behind," Yeosang's voice sounds behind you as you pour a drink. "Hey, can I get one of those little umbrellas too? They make me feel cute," says the patron for whom you're pouring. You snort, "Sure." She smiles as you gently let the umbrella drop into the small, light pink drink. "Wooyoung's gonna start bitching at you for going through extra supplies," Yeosang snorts. "Yeah?" You roll your eyes, "Well, fuck Wooyoung." "Been there, done that," San chimes in with a sigh. "You're gonna have to get over him soon. You're driving me nuts," You groan. "I'm trying to but Yeosang won't give me a chance," San smirks, glancing at Yeosang playfully. "It's because you want him too much," You lean in close to San's ear, "he hates that kinda stuff."

The bar is absolutely packed tonight, thanks to Wooyoung's insistence on having theme nights, despite yours and the other workers' resistance. These are the busiest nights. Tonight's theme is 80's night. You're wearing light blue, distressed jeans and a red muscle tea, paired with old, white air-forces. This is as 80's as it's gonna get for you in this hot ass building. Yeosang also rarely makes an effort for these things, usually picking the most basic outfits that technically fit our themes. Tonight, it's a black tee shirt and a blue flannel with jeans and some converse. San, on the other hand, is in his full getup: dangly-earring, cropped, purple, mesh tank top, and the tightest jeans imaginable. Anything for a good tip, He always says.

"Can I get a beer?" Asks a girl as she walks up to the bar. "Sure, which brand--" You begin to ask, but she shakes her head, "No, I was talking to him," She points to Yeosang. He lifts his head, glancing at you and then at her, "Oh-- a beer? Of course. Uhm...which brand?" "Got any Corona?" She asks, leaning in to try to see over the bar, though it's clear she's trying to draw attention to her chest, which is very much on display as she’s practically bent over. He definitely catches on, and keeps his eyes on her face, "Yep. Corona, coming right up." You watch the entire exchange in annoyance; not at her trying to seduce him-- that part you get-- but this kind of thing happens all the time; San and Yeosang bring in the biggest tips and you’re left ignored. You get it; they're hot and buff or whatever, but you've got bills to pay, dammit and Wooyoung doesn’t pay enough for you to make it without any got damn tips.

He tries to set the drink down on the bar, but she beats him to it, reaching her hand out to take it from him and very deliberately grazing his fingers as she does. "You're...Yeosang, right?" She asks. "Yup, that's me..." He tries to keeps his eyes on his hands as he dries off a glass. He knows where this is going and he's not really into it. You stand by, unable to ignore the conversation, as it's happening right next to you. "They were right; you are really hot." Her brazen compliment makes him turn bright red, and he smiles politely, "Oh, thank you. I appreciate it." “Do you have a girlfriend? Or a…partner or something?” She asks, remembering she’s in a queer establishment. This is when he fully turns to give you the help me nod.

She doesn’t notice, of course, as she already seems a little tipsy. “Sorry, but if you’re not gonna order anything else, would you mind stepping aside? We’ve got other customers,” You say, inserting yourself in their exchange. She turns to you, the nastiest look on her face as she opens her mouth to say something else, though just as she does, someone walks up behind her, “Rum and Coke, please!” I look at the other girl and raise a brow at her, to which she responds by rolling her eyes and walking away with her drink.

“Thank you so much,” Yeosang exhales, gently grazing your arm. The action gives you involuntary goose bumps, “You owe me.” “Yes, of course. After this, food on me,” He says, hoping you’ll agree to settle for cheap. You sigh, “Fine. Only since you’re asking so nicely.”

You both get off around 1AM, having gotten off earlier than San and Yunho since you’d been there early setting up. Luckily, that means you can catch the diner drive thru before it closes. You snag some food and then drive to your usual place; the lookout over the city.

The city is busy tonight, and you’re able to see all the cars along the road, jammed together like ants in the distance. “Should I look for another job?” You ask with a sigh, picking at your fries. “Why would you do that?” Yeosang holds his straw up to his lips as he leans against the car. You gently swing your legs off the side of the trunk, which you’re currently sitting on, “I just feel like I’ll never make enough to comfortably sustain myself. I’m not even asking to be rich or anything— I just wanna be able to afford rent and also have money left over to…I don’t know, buy myself some new underwear?” “New underwear? Big spender over here,” He snorts sarcastically. “That’s how it feels,” You roll your eyes.

“To be fair, you do wear some of the most expensive underwear on the market,” He glances at your waist, where the waistband of your Calvin Klein briefs are peeking over your jeans. “Hey, I’ll have you know these were a gift from my mother. And besides,” You lean back, a smug expression on your face, “I look good in ‘em.” He laughs, having expected an arrogant response, “Of course you’d say that…I guess you do look alright in them.” You raise your brows at him, “The truth comes out.” “Oh shut up,” His cheeks burn a little under your gaze, and he’s thankful it’s so dark so you can’t see. You laugh and put your fries to the side, “San would kill for a compliment like that, you know?” “San would kill for a glance in his direction by any attractive man in proximity,” He chuckles, “and besides, he’s not really my type.”

“Your type?” You echo, furrowing your brows, “I didn’t realize you had one.” “Well, I do.” “And who, may I ask, is your type? During our entire year of friendship, I’ve never actually seen you flirt with anyone like ever.” “That’s because I don’t really flirt all that often,” He shrugs, “my type isn’t really based on looks; it’s more like…a personality type.” “Okay…elaborate.” He gets a little shy, “I don’t know…I like someone more low-key. Doesn’t try too hard. I also just like for things to happen organically, you know?” He looks up at the sky, sighing at the beautiful stars. “How you ever get laid is beyond me,” You look up as well, “I haven’t dated since before I moved over here.”

He raises his brows in surprise, “Wow, really? How come?” “Eh…I haven’t really had the best luck dating. My last relationship ended up shittily.” “Can I ask…what made it so shitty?” He treads lightly, not wanting to pry, “You don’t have to answer, of course.” You chew on your lip, thinking about it for a second, “Well, to make a long story short…he was kind of…an asshole. Really fucked with my mental; I even—” You catch yourself and abruptly stop talking, debating on whether or not to say it. “Even…what?” He asks, turning to you. You look down, feeling a bit vulnerable, “Okay, I’ll say it— but don’t get all soft on me. I’m perfectly fine now, okay?” You warn, eyeing him. “Alright…go ahead.” “I kinda…started hurting myself. But, like I said, I don’t do it anymore.”

He turns his entire body so he’s fully facing you, “You…started hurting yourself?” “Yeah,” You look away, “but I haven’t done it since we broke up. It’s not like a…a big deal.” He gets closer, reaching tentatively to place a hand on your thigh; it’s a comforting touch— not one that holds intention for anything other than to comfort you as a friend, “You’re really okay now?” His voice is so gentle as he asks, it makes you feel very bare. “Of course,” You look away again, though you suddenly feel yourself getting emotional. What the fuck even is this? You think to yourself, feeling silly. “So…that’s why you haven’t been with anyone since?” He asks. “Yep…just feels really personal, you know? I mean, I’m telling you because we’re friends and I trust you, but I’m generally pretty closed off in that aspect,” You exhale, “I don’t know how I’ll ever get to that point where I trust someone enough with my body again…”

You’re mostly healed from the relationship, but it still hurts some times to see your reflection and see the remnants of a life you’re trying desperately to bury. Not to mention, the looks you know you’ll get from someone who wouldn’t understand. “Anyway…shot got dark real quick,” You laugh, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly, “Let’s change the subject.” He looks at you, sensing your desperation to get the attention off of this part of your life, so he concedes, clapping his hands together and drinking the last of his soda, “Alright, alright,” He checks his watch, “You ready?” “Yep. Let’s hit it.” You hop off the trunk, landing with a soft, gravely thud as your sneakers hit the ground. He watches as he stands by the passenger door, waiting for you to get in first.

He changed the subject because you wanted him to, but he continues processing your words. He imagines you, sad and lonely and desperate for some kind of relief. He wishes he’d known you then…would you have been friends? Would he have been able to save you? You’ve never seemed like the type to really need saving…maybe that’s why this story is so jarring. Part of him feels rage at the thought of anyone pushing you to that point; the other part is just glad you’re alive to tell the tale.

“Earth to Yeosang,” You say, waving your hand to get his attention. He snaps out of his thoughts, “Mm?” “Wanna come in and get your package?” You repeat yourself, as he’s been distracted the entire car ride. “Oh! Yeah, let’s go.” He unbuckles himself and gets out, following you into your little studio behind your landlord’s house.

He’s been over quite a few times, usually after work whenever you both get out later than usual and you let him sleep over, since your apartment is closer than his by twenty minutes. You look over in the corner of the room and snap your fingers, “Here it is.” You walk over and grab the box, “You’re lucky I didn’t steal these for myself. These albums are so hard to come by.” You turn to face him, only to see a look on his face you don’t recognize; somewhere between pensiveness and timidity. “You okay?” You ask, tilting your head. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, then looks down as though trying to ground himself, “Y/n…can I ask you something?” “Sure…” You furrow your brows, unsure of what he might say, and a little nervous, given his serious tone; one he rarely takes with you.

“I was thinking about our conversation…” He says, struggling to get the words out a bit. “What about it?” You ask, a bit thrown that he’s bringing it up again. Slowly, he comes forward and takes the box from you, his hands gently grazing yours; your entire body suddenly gets goose bumps. What is this reaction? “Well, you said you were able to tell me about it because you trust me, right?” “Yeah…?” “What if…” he looks down, his cheeks turning a little pink, “I can help you out a bit?” “Help me out how?” For some reason, your heart rate is going faster and faster, as though it knows something your mind still has yet to understand. Slowly, he puts the box down on the couch next to him and looks at you.

You’ve always found Yeosang attractive; that much is true. From the day you started working at the bar, you found yourself just as bewitched as everyone else— although, maybe not more than San, who is clearly Yeosang’s number one fan. But as you got to know him, you realized what a wonderful person he is; he’s gentle and kind. You even find yourself relating to him in certain aspects; the way he weaves in between the feminine and the masculine, unapologetically himself in the best way possible. Your friendship was natural and easy; making him laugh was always your favorite part, too…really everything about your friendship is your favorite part.

Outside, you can hear it’s started to rain; the drops gently pitter pattering against your roof and windows. Summer showers. He steps closer, until there’s only about one foot of distance between the two of you. “If you can’t trust a stranger with your body yet…can you trust me?” He’s still blushing, but he keeps his gaze on you. Vulnerability is hard, but laying himself bare before you is too inviting. You’re stuck, staring up at him, trying to understand— “What do you mean, Yeosang?” “I mean…” He reaches for your hand and gently raises it to his lips, “Let me ease your nerves…as your friend.” He plants a gentle kiss on the back of it, and it sends a delicious shiver down your spine. Of all the things you’d have expected to hear tonight, this was the absolute last one.

You watch him as he gives it another kiss, but doesn’t go further than that yet. He’s waiting for you to say it; the magic word he’s suddenly desperate to hear. He was always attracted to you. From the second you walked in for the interview during his opening shift. He’d watched you smile and laugh, charming Wooyoung into giving you the bartender job he’d rejected about four other people for already because he “didn’t like their vibe.” You looked so cool; effortless and unbothered. He’d been shy to talk to you at first, but it’s like you wouldn’t let him hide. You’d warmed up to him instantly, and he couldn’t help but melt in to you too. Becoming your friend was the easiest thing in the world— but the attraction never really waned; he forcibly muted it, not wanting to risk anything…but part of him always wondered if trying it, just once, would really be so bad.

“Okay…” You say, unable to resist the sudden urge that arises at the sight of his obvious desire for you, but still feeling a little hesitant. He lets go of your wrist and gently pulls you in to his embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses you. It’s unexpected, but not at all unwelcome. You haven’t been kissed like this in…ever. His lips are so soft, and his spit so sweet. Your arm hooks over his neck and brings him closer. This kiss is so much more than you could ever have expected; it’s dizzying and wonderful. Slowly, he slips his tongue in, grazing yours timidly, until yours responds by doing the same. You never thought a kiss could make you so weak.

Somehow, you end up on the couch; whether it was you leading him, him leading you— at this point, your bodies are tangled up, still clothed, but getting hotter with every passing moment. You push the fabric of his flannel off his shoulder, which prompts him to shrug it off completely, exposing his big, defined arms. You drag your fingers along each ridge, feeling his muscles, which you’ve wanted to do for so long. Your touch draws him in further. His pants feel suddenly so tight now, he can hardly stand it. He tears his lips away from yours and sits up, his chest heaving as he looks down at you. Wordlessly, he untucks his black tee shirt. You watch intently as he raises it slowly, exposing his hard abs. He watches you watch him; it only makes him harder. Finally, he pulls the tee shirt up over his head and tosses it onto the floor. Everything about him is perfect; his pecs are big, his abs defined. His black hair falls a bit into his face, and the image makes him look like some warrior prince.

You’re absolutely enchanted by him, and he feels it— but his goal is to make you see how absolutely enchanting you are. He looks down as he plays with the hem of your shirt, which is already slightly lifted, exposing a sliver of your stomach. “Can I take this off…?” His voice is so low, it rumbled throughout your body. You nod, “Yes.” You sit up, allowing him to pull your shirt all the way. It lands next to his tee shirt, and now, you’re left in your sports bra and jeans. He looks over your shoulders, your arms, your chest, your stomach. He takes the back of his hand and gently trails it down your arm, “You know…I used to fantasize about this day…” You furrow your brows, a bit surprised, “You did?” “Of course,” He laughs softly, “I always wondered what it would be like…” He leans down, placing a kiss on your neck, “to kiss you,” a kiss on your shoulder, “everywhere.” Your lashes flutter closed as you focus on his feather-light kisses.

He lays you back down, continuing his kisses down the center of your chest, then your stomach, until finally, he’s at the button of your jeans. “Wait,” You gently stop him, and he obeys, lifting his head to make sure you’re okay. “Before you see my legs,” You close your eyes, “I just…have to warn you…it’s a lot.” He takes in your worried expression, and immediately, he wants nothing more than to take you into his arms and reassure you— but he remains calm and collected. With one hand, he undoes the button on your jeans. You keep your eyes closed, bracing yourself for a reaction. He tugs downward, until your pants are fully down to your ankles. It’s only then that he takes in the sight of your thighs.

It’s true; there are a lot of scars. Some are more faded than others, but all look healed. He lets his eyes trail over them, getting their fill. However, despite your own perception of them, he isn’t any less eager to show you the attention you deserve. You still have your eyes closed, when you feel his lips on your thighs. It’s prompts you to finally open them and look down. One of his hands comes up to hold your left thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh, while the other props him up to keep kissing. His lips diligently cover every single scar he can see— kissing with passion, same as he would if he was kissing your lips. Your lips part at the sight of this ethereal being worshiping you with his mouth.

He doesn’t stop at kissing them, either. After a minute, he begins licking languidly along the length of your thighs. His goal was to make you feel wanted, and he succeeded, because right now, you feel like the most desired person in the world. A soft sigh escapes you, and it makes his entire body grow hotter. He grips tightly to your other thigh. Eventually, his long licks turn into soft bites. When he comes up for a little air, his nose and lips are red and bloodshot. You sweep a lock of silky, black hair behind his ear, taking in his piercing eyes and heavy stare. “I want you, Y/n,” He says it so easily, it makes your core feel wet and needy.

His hands snake up your thighs and to the waistband of your briefs, “Can I…?” His mouth is watering at the proximity of your heat to his mouth; separated only by a few inches of space, plus the thin fabric of your underwear. “Do it,” You say breathlessly, lifting your hips up as he swiftly yanks the waistband down until they slide off your ankles. He doesn’t waist a single moment as he leans down and kisses your upper pelvic area; they’re anxious, ravenous kisses now, like there’s so much he wants to devour but so little time to do it. As though something deep within him has taken over, he hooks his arms around your thighs and yanks your closer, then bends your legs so your thighs are against your stomach, your pussy lips exposed to his hungry eyes. He dips down and licks a stripe up your slit, which is already glistening with your arousal to begin with. “Mm…” You moan, feeling his tongue snag on your clit. He holds your legs up as he goes again, only this time, he starts all the way from your asshole.

He could easily spend hours between your legs, lapping you up to the very last drop. Your moans fill the entire apartment, and you just hope to God that your landlord doesn’t hear you. Yeosang, on the other hand, couldn’t care less who would hear. “Shit,” You moan, craning your neck to see him a big better over your legs. Suddenly, you feel his lips enclose your clit and suck gently, making your eyes roll back, “Shit,” You curse, biting your lip. You feel his fingers digging into your legs, but all it does is fuel your pleasure. There’s nothing better than this feeling. He alternates between sucking and licking, covering the undersides of your thighs with kisses in between. It’s already feeling amazing when you feel him insert two fingers into you. You gasp, feeling yourself stretch around his fingers. He’s not aggressive; he’s slow and gentle with it as he goes in and out, his lips still on your swollen clit.

He can feel your wetness coat his fingers fully. “You trust me?” He asks. “Y-yes,” You struggle to answer. “Okay, then just breathe, alright?” He instructs, to which you nod, unable to speak. He gently curls his fingers slightly upward, pumping a little quicker now. Your pussy makes loud, squelching noises, and it feels like pressure building inside you. His thumb rubs simultaneously on your clit, and it’s almost too overwhelming. “Yeosang wait— I think I’m gonna pee,” You try to stop him, but he shakes his head, “No, you’re not. Just trust me,” His teeth clench as he pumps harsher, and you feel it— the pressure— about to erupt. “Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang—!” You yell, your body contorting violently as a gush of liquid shoots out of you and onto your couch and his lap. He doesn’t hesitate to smash his face into your heat to devour your orgasm with his mouth and tongue. You continue riding out your climax, grinding your pussy against his nose until it’s finally settling.

You lay there, panting as he cleans every centimeter of your wet cunt. You watch as he continues kissing you; your inner thighs, your pussy lips, your scars— it’s like he can’t get enough. You stroke his hair, finding his attention to be so validating and comforting. It’s only after it’s all said and done that you realize that, what he wanted wasn’t just to make you feel good;

He wanted to worship you.

Hi! Good question!

Enben is the plural of enban, the non-binary gendered equivalent of man/woman. It is derived from the term enby. I prefer to use it because enby was initially understood to be a term that referred to non-binary youth. Whilst not everyone uses it that way, I personally prefer to use enban to describe all non-binary people to both show enben that there is more vocabulary to describe ourselves, but also to subtly uninfantilise non-binary people. Enban is a more adult feeling option. It also helps popularise these terms so other enben as well as binary people are aware of nonbinary vocabulary.

You will ALWAYS have my love and support. 💛🤍💜🖤

I love all the colors and I know being colorful in general is a deep part of queer culture and joyful resistance. I’m definitely not saying we should do away with them. But like, some people are colorblind. Printers run out of colored ink. Shit happens. And as I learned in the one graphic design class I took, any good design should be readable in only black and white/two colors. Because seriously, without the colors, all the flags are all just horizontal stripes. I’m fairly deep into queer culture and I still have trouble remembering some of the flags. They kinda blur together after a while.

Whether you're fat,thin,muscular or something in between. Those who are hairy or smooth.

Shout out to nonbinary people of all races. Whether you present feminine,masculine or androgynous or a mix of them all. Those who present differently on the day. Whos gender fluctuates or stays void.Regardless of your AGAB

Shout out to Nonbinary people who relate to womanhood or manhood,those who relate to neither and both.

Shout out to nonbinary people on or off HRT, people who've changed their name or they haven't. Nonbinary people who use neo-pronouns and those who don't. Those who use contradictory labels and create there own labels. Shout out to those who are out and those who aren't or can't be.

Shout out to nonbinary people who are able bodied and those who are Disabled. Those who use mobility aids, hearing aids,AAC, or any other kind of Disability support and those who don't.