Jul 20
Love is not beautiful because it’s eternal. It’s beautiful because every moment of being together makes you believe in eternity.
k.b. // „abstraction and eternity“ by jaehyun from boynextdoor
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Love is not beautiful because it’s eternal. It’s beautiful because every moment of being together makes you believe in eternity.
k.b. // „abstraction and eternity“ by jaehyun from boynextdoor
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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;; ꩜ | stop and go . . . PART 1
taesan x reader x woonhak
꩜ synopsis: when a small coincidence at a party unknowingly pits you between two friends, things start to get real complicated, real fast. or, where taesan and woonhak are messy and both want you.
꩜ tags: nsfw (mdni), college!au, alcohol consumption, switch!reader, dom!taesan, switch!woonhak, pnv, semi-public sex, fingering, handjob, oral (f rec), m/f, eventual m/f/m, m/m?, reader says puppy once, jealousy, competition, ambiguous relationships, lack of communication, they're all messy..
꩜ wc: ~4K
a/n. this was meant to be a oneshot but i couldn't stop myself also writing debut very nervous ahah… would love to hear thoughts! this took me so long to figure out but omg i finished it..
[ PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. ]
+++
rules for dating trash
pairing: taesan x reader
genre: romance, slow burn, forced proximity
words count: 2.1k
summary: after a messy breakup with a trashy ex forces y/n to take a three-year-long break from college, the last thing she wants to do upon her not-so-inconspicuous return is to dive straight into another relationship. but then comes taesan, a notorious bad boy who finds himself having a vested interest in y/n. and suddenly, what was supposed to be a low-key senior year is looking like it's going to be anything but. the harder y/n pushes taesan away, the stronger he keeps pulling her back. but something's gotta give so who's giving in first.
the fluorescent light above the third-floor vending machine always flickered like it was personally offended by being awake at 2:47 a.m. you stood there anyway, staring at the spiraling refusal of the machine to drop your lemon tea, forehead pressed to the cold glass.
“it hates you,” someone said from the shadows near the stairwell.
you didn’t turn around right away. mostly because you already knew the voice. low, lazy, the kind that sounded like the person was permanently one exhale away from laughing at their own joke.
han taesan.
of course.
“it hates everyone,” you muttered, finally giving the machine one last defeated slap. “just some of us more than others.”
he stepped into the yellowish light. black hoodie, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, silver chain glinting against collarbones that had no business looking that sharp at this hour. hair messy in that expensive, intentional way boys like him could pull off without trying.
he tilted his head toward the machine. “want me to shake it?”
“i’d rather die than owe you a favor.”
a slow grin split his face. “noted.”
you finally looked at him properly. same taesan from three years ago, only taller, shoulders broader, eyes sharper. the kind of face that made people whisper “trouble” and then immediately start writing poetry about it anyway.
you turned back to the vending machine like it might suddenly become generous if you ignored him hard enough.
it didn’t.
“heard you were back,” he said, leaning one shoulder against the wall beside you. close enough that you could smell cedar and whatever cheap body spray he still pretended was high-end. “didn’t believe it until i saw your name on the senior seminar list.”
“wow. you read the seminar list?”
“i read everything that might ruin my gpa.”
you snorted despite yourself.
silence stretched. not awkward, exactly. more like the silence between two people who used to exist in the same orbit and then one of them disappeared for thirty-six months without warning.
“three years is a long time to ghost the entire campus,” he finally said. voice softer now. not mocking. just… curious.
you pressed the refund button even though you knew it was a lost cause. coins clinked uselessly.
“wasn’t ghosting. was just… on hiatus.”
“three-year hiatus.”
“some people take gap years. i took a gap triennium.”
he huffed a laugh through his nose. “poetic.”
you finally faced him fully, arms crossed like armor. “why are you here, taesan?”
“couldn’t sleep. saw the light flickering. figured someone was getting murdered by technology. turns out it was just you having a very public breakdown over lemon tea.”
“i’m not having a breakdown.”
“your eye is twitching.”
“it always twitches when i’m surrounded by people i’d rather not talk to.”
another slow grin. god, you hated that grin. mostly because it still worked.
“brutal,” he said, almost proud. “i like it.”
you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.
“go away.”
“nah.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know. that’s why it’s fun.”
you exhaled through your teeth. “i came back to graduate. that’s it. no drama. no boys. no bullshit. just degree, cap, gown, bye.”
he studied you for a long second. something shifted behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite name.
“okay,” he said simply.
“okay?”
“yeah. okay.” he pushed off the wall. “good luck with that, though.”
he started walking away.
you should’ve let him.
you really should’ve.
but the vending machine chose that exact moment to wheeze, shudder, and finally drop two cans of lemon tea instead of one.
they both hit the bottom tray with a loud clunk.
taesan paused. looked over his shoulder.
you stared at the two cans like they’d personally betrayed you.
he walked back, reached in, grabbed both, and held one out to you.
you didn’t take it.
“rules,” you said instead.
he raised an eyebrow.
“if you’re gonna keep showing up like a stray cat,” you continued, “there need to be rules.”
his mouth twitched. “i’m listening.”
you held up one finger. “rule one: no flirting.”
“define flirting.”
“anything that makes me want to punch you or kiss you. pick one, i don’t care, just don’t do both at once.”
he laughed quiet, real. “fair.”
second finger. “rule two: no nicknames. not babe, not princess, not y/nnie, none of that.”
“what if i call you vending-machine girl?”
“i will end you.”
“noted.”
third finger. “rule three: this—” you gestured between the two of you “—is not a thing. it’s not going to be a thing. i’m not dating. i’m not even adjacent to dating. i’m on the other side of the continent from dating.”
he tilted his head. “so… friendship?”
you narrowed your eyes. “acquaintanceship. at best.”
“ouch.”
“take it or leave it.”
he considered the can in his hand. then looked back at you.
“deal.”
you finally took the second can from him. fingers brushed. you hated how aware you were of it.
“good,” you said. “now go away for real.”
he saluted lazily with his own can. “yes ma’am.”
and then he left.
you stood there alone under the dying light, clutching lemon tea you didn’t even want anymore, wondering why your chest felt tight.
rule one lasted approximately eleven days.
it cracked on a thursday.
you were in the library’s quiet floor, headphones on, laptop open, highlighter bleeding yellow across three different textbooks when someone dropped into the chair across from you like they owned the table.
you didn’t need to look up.
“taesan.”
“y/n.”
“i’m working.”
“i know. that’s why i brought reinforcements.”
you glanced up.
he slid a tall iced americano across the table. condensation already dripping onto the wood. next to it: a small paper bag with the bakery logo from two streets over. the one that only opened at 6 a.m. and sold out of their brown-sugar croissants by 8.
you stared at the bag.
then at him.
“you hate mornings,” you said.
“i hate losing more.”
you opened the bag anyway. still warm.
bastard.
you took a bite. closed your eyes for half a second.
when you opened them again he was watching you with an expression you didn’t want to decode.
“stop looking at me like that,” you muttered around pastry.
“like what?”
“like you’re proud of yourself.”
“i am proud of myself.”
you pointed the croissant at him. “rule one.”
“i brought you coffee and bread. that’s not flirting. that’s basic human decency.”
“you don’t do basic human decency.”
“i do it for people i like.”
your stomach flipped traitorously.
you swallowed. “don’t.”
“don’t what?”
“don’t say shit like that.”
he leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin on his knuckles. “why not?”
“because i said no flirting.”
“that wasn’t flirting. that was a statement of fact.”
you glared.
he smiled wider.
“you’re impossible,” you said.
“you keep saying that. yet here i still am.”
you shoved the rest of the croissant in your mouth so you wouldn’t have to reply.
he stayed for the next three hours.
didn’t talk much.
just sat there. scrolling on his phone. occasionally pushing your water bottle closer when you forgot to drink. once he reached over and gently pulled your headphones off one ear so he could whisper, “your footnotes are wrong on page seventeen.”
you checked.
he was right.
you hated him a little more after that.
rule two broke on a saturday night.
you were at the cheap izakaya near the east gate because your roommate dragged you out saying “you can’t just hibernate in the library forever.” half the senior design class was there. someone had already started karaoke in the back room.
you were on your second highball when taesan walked in.
leather jacket. black tee. rings on three fingers.
heads turned.
he didn’t look at anyone else.
just scanned the room until he found you.
then he smiled, small, private, the kind that felt like it belonged only to you.
you looked away first.
he came over anyway.
“hey,” he said, sliding into the booth beside you without asking.
“you’re late,” your roommate said. “we already sang your song.”
“which one?”
“the one where you pretend you can rap.”
everyone laughed.
taesan didn’t.
he just looked at you. “you sang?”
“no.”
“liar.”
you sipped your drink. “i didn’t.”
he leaned closer. voice low enough that only you could hear. “i’ll believe you when you stop blushing.”
you weren’t blushing.
(you were.)
“shut up,” you muttered.
he grinned. “make me.”
someone shoved the mic toward him.
he took it.
and then because the universe hates you, he picked the slowest, saddest ballad in the entire machine.
the kind with lyrics about regret and second chances and “if i could go back.”
he didn’t look at anyone else while he sang.
just you.
the entire table went suspiciously quiet.
when the song ended the applause was loud and teasing.
he handed the mic back.
then he sat down again. closer this time. thigh pressed against yours under the table.
you didn’t move away.
“that was flirting,” you whispered.
“that was singing.”
“same difference.”
he looked at you, really looked.
“you didn’t leave.”
“i’m polite.”
“you’re staying for me.”
your heart was loud enough you were sure he could hear it.
“don’t flatter yourself.”
“too late.”
someone called for another round.
he leaned in again. lips almost brushing your ear.
“hey… vending-machine girl?”
you shivered.
“what.”
“you’re pretty when you’re mad at me.”
you turned your face. noses almost touching.
“that’s rule one, asshole.”
“i know,” he whispered. “i’m breaking it on purpose.”
your breath caught.
“why?”
“because i’m tired of pretending i don’t want to kiss you.”
the table was loud.
the world was loud.
but right then it was just his voice. low. honest. terrifying.
you stared at his mouth.
then at his eyes.
then back at his mouth.
“i’m not dating,” you said. voice smaller than you wanted.
“i know.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know.”
“so stop.”
he didn’t move away.
“okay,” he said softly. “i’ll stop.”
but he didn’t.
not really.
because the next thing you knew your hand was on his jaw and you were kissing him like you’d been starving for it since the vending machine three weeks ago.
he kissed back like he’d been waiting longer.
the table erupted.
someone wolf-whistled.
you didn’t care.
his hand found the back of your neck. gentle. steady.
when you finally pulled away your lips were swollen and your heart was somewhere in your throat.
he rested his forehead against yours.
“still not dating?” he asked. breathless.
you swallowed.
“still not dating.”
he smiled against your mouth.
“okay.”
then he kissed you again.
slower.
sweeter.
like a promise he wasn’t allowed to make yet.
rule three was the last one to fall.
it happened quietly.
no big moment.
no dramatic rain scene.
just a tuesday afternoon in late november.
you were in his room because he’d promised to help you with your capstone presentation and you’d promised not to laugh at how many plants he owned.
(he had twelve.)
you were cross-legged on his bed, laptop balanced on a pillow, reading aloud while he laid on his stomach beside you, chin on his folded arms, listening.
you finished the last slide.
silence.
then he said, very quietly, “i love you.”
you froze.
he didn’t look up.
just kept tracing invisible patterns on the duvet.
“you don’t have to say it back,” he added. “i just… wanted you to know.”
your throat was tight.
“taesan.”
“yeah.”
“look at me.”
he did. slowly. like he was afraid of what he’d see.
you reached out. brushed his hair off his forehead.
“i’m scared,” you whispered.
“i know.”
“i’ve never been good at this.”
“neither have i.”
“you’re literally the campus f*ckboy.”
he winced. “former.”
“sure.”
“i’m serious.” he sat up. took your hand. laced your fingers together. “i don’t want anyone else. i haven’t for a long time.”
you stared at your joined hands.
“i’m broken,” you said.
“you’re not.”
“i’m… baggage.”
“then i’ll carry it.”
tears stung.
you blinked them back.
“i don’t know how to do this without f*cking it up.”
“then we’ll f*ck it up together.”
a laugh bubbled out. wet. shaky.
he tugged you forward until you were in his lap, arms around his neck, foreheads touching again.
“i love you,” he said again. quieter. like a secret he’d kept too long.
you closed your eyes.
“i love you too.”
his breath hitched.
then he was kissing you.
not hungry.
not desperate.
just… home.
when you pulled back he was smiling so wide it looked painful.
“so,” he said. “rules?”
you thought about it.
then you leaned in. kissed the corner of his mouth.
“new rule.”
“hm?”
“no more rules.”
he laughed bright, boyish, unguarded.
“deal.”
outside the window the first snow of the year started falling.
inside the room with twelve plants and two idiots who finally stopped running, it felt like spring.
#IHATEMYBF | park sungho.
PAIRING: boyfriend!sungho x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: moving in with your boyfriend, park sungho, has proven to be much more difficult than you originally made it out to be.
GENRE/CONTENTS: crack, mini smau, roommates au, established relationship au, reader lowk got anger issues but they are in love trust 😭🙏🏼, sungho is a little stupid but that’s ok, kms/die jokes (mentions su!cid!e), reader “bullies” sungho lovingly, just plain bs once again.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: yeah idc that this is the third smau i’ve posted this week this is me being productive guys let me cook 😓🙏🏼
BACK TO MASTERLIST.
BACK TO YOU | KIM WOONHAK
beast boy!woonhak x reader
synopsis; no matter the form, he always comes back to you.
wc;662
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
UNRAVEL ME - Leehan & Sungho
pairing: bf!leehan × fem!reader × bf!sungho
genre: poly relationship, soft doms ???, erotic
wc: 1.1k
warnings: suggestive, neck biting/marking, overstimulation themes, dominant dynamics
a/n: it just happened i guess??
You barely register the moment it shifts from playful to dangerous.
One second you’re standing between them, laughing at something half-forgotten. The next, you’re pinned—your back flush to Sungho’s chest, Leehan stepping in close enough that your breath tangles with his.
going to the fish store w/ crush!leehan ~ headcanons
crush!leehan who... is actually pretty shy about his fish-keeping hobby around you. not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to scare you off by being "too much"
crush!leehan who... decides to invite you to the fish store because it's his favorite place. favorite place with his favorite person, y'know?
crush!leehan who... instantly smiles 10x brighter when you happily agree to go
crush!leehan who... introduces you to the owner of the store- explaining that they're long time friends due to how often he frequents his store. you think it's endearing, even if you are slightly confused at first as to why leehan is friends with a 50 year old shop owner.
crush!leehan who... waits for you to point out a fish that catches your eyes- before proceeding to infodump on the species and it's care requirements.
crush!leehan who... is always inching closer to you subconciously. tapping his head against yours as y'all peer into tanks, shuffling his feet to be closer to you when you take a few steps forward, turning his body away from any other customers and towards you.
crush!leehan who... starts holding your hand sometime between the third aisle. you think it's cute how he squeezes your hand ever so slightly when he gets excited about the swimming creatures.
crush!leehan who... ends up walking out of the store with nothing- for the first time in what feels like forever. what else could he have possibly needed when he had you?
crush!leehan who... sends you a "thanks for listening to my fish facts" text when you get back home <3
guys i learned how to do the gradient text ! ~ 🐻
we were able to write this bc i have my cheez-itz. the power of cheez-itz....not sponsored ~ 🐰
taesan rockstar moodboard ☆