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[ @218117 ] 

it’s terrible weather, rain pouring in buckets till he feels like he’s soaked to the bone. his jaw aches and he can feel the bruise under his mask. no doubt that tomorrow morning it’ll be a lump the size of a baseball and with a nasty purple scab over his lip, but he hardly has the time to think about how much it’s gonna’ to hurt. 

aunt may’s gonna’ kill him when she sees the state of his face, and minghao’s gonna’ kill him for being late to their date.

they’re celebrating - together, nobody else, at their favorite spot and it’s not supposed to be a big deal but it is and joshua nearly slams head first into a building thinking about how he hasn’t seen minghao is six weeks. his heart is racing, and it’s not because he’s four stories up. he was never under the delusion that graduating would make them less busy but between job applications and spiderman and working with dr. osbourne and spiderman and the property developers coming round every other day to the house. 

the window to his room is stiff which mean’s he’s gotta do something about that - but he squeezes himself through anyway because he doesn’t have the time. 

a quick shower and a spattering of concealer and he’s out, running past aunt may with a quick kiss to her cheek. 

minghao is already standing on the corner, by the park where they used to play as kids. the green behind him and the setting sun above makes him a vision, slender and soft. of course, the rain’s finally stopped when minghao steps out. 

joshua slows as he comes closer, finally stopping and catching his breath. this isn’t enough exercise to wear him out, but he needs the excuse to calm himself. it’s exciting! he hasn’t seen him in weeks! 

“sorry,” he pants, managing a smile through deep breaths, “had to help out aunt may with the dishwasher.” 

it’s hard to look at minghao yet hard to look away, so joshua goes in for a hug, hands itching to touch him after so long. “it’s been a while.” 

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Had this floating around in my head for a while so here’s an out of breath Peter Parker that nobody asked for! 

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ok dusting off this blog fr fr

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time to dust this blog off ksgnkwrjkw

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could you like or reblog this if you’re okay with late replies to roleplay threads / asks / etc.?

by late, it means anywhere between 1 day to 1 year. because i know some people prefer writing and replying on the spot, but i’m also sure lots of peeps struggle with that for various reasons, and threads get dropped because their partner has long lost interest or something, which can be very discouraging. so i hope we can all be understanding here!

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[ wordspel ]

minhae smiles, bumping shoulders and batting his lashes up to yeongsoo as they walk, chuckling to himself. yeongsoo is cute, cute that he’s actually pondering, needing to think carefully about what it is he wants. he flip flops between impulsiveness and caution, a light switch that he’s losing control over. “you have all the time in world.”

minhae doesn’t like to wait. 

he follows in after him, eyes widening, mouth curling into an ‘o’ shape. it’s far better than he’d imagined, a fortune in silverware and miscellaneous decore, just waiting to be stolen. “oh yeongsoo, darling, this is wonderful, look at this lamp!”  he thinks those might be real venetian sapphires lining the hem of the shade, so antiquated yet so fucking expensive. he carefully digs a nail under the seam, tugging till the sapphires come loose on a line of delicate lace. “aren’t these so beautiful?”

he reaches up, gently tying the fabric behind his neck. it’s not loose, hanging over his chest, and so he loops it tight, till the band of gems is shining over his adam’s apple in a make shift choker. they’re too expensive to be worn so haphazardly like this, but theres four more lamps in the room and minhae looks so good in red. 

he smiles, drawing close to yeongsoo and pushing the drapes from his hands to the floor, stepping over them carelessly to smooth his hands over yeongsoo’s chest and over his shoulders. “you should fuck me in this.”

neon.

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Guys please reply to this with what your url means or references I’m really curious

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dreams.

gift for @ksung. written 2017.

boa squeals, jumping up and down the hallway towards the door. sungil nearly trips trying to chase after her, hopping on one foot as he tries to get the collar of his shirt past his head. it’s stuck around his ears and all he can hear is boa’s incomprehensible rambling and the rattling of the door chain (thank god he’d remembered to lock it). her gibberish ends with her chanting ‘ma ma ma ma ma!’ and sungil picks her up, balancing her against his hip because it’s easier to carry her than try to put shoes on her when she’s this excited.

“first we-” boa reaches forward, nearly falling out of his hold to open the door chain and unlock the door. she’s too short to reach it on her own, so sungil feels like he should be more worried that she already knows how to open the front door.

“oi.”

sungil cups her cheeks in his hand, squishing them till her lips curl like a fish. she’s so small and sungil has to bite the inside his cheek to hide his smile. “you have to be patient. ma is tired, okay?”

boa blinks at him, before blowing a raspberry and giggling when sungil snatches his hand away. “you cheeky little-“ he scrunches his nose and blows against her neck, peppering her cheek with kisses till she squeals.

he opens the door and moves towards the railing, holding boa tightly so she doesn’t fall. mina’s car rolls into the parking just moments later and boa screams, voice so high-pitched sungil winces and pokes her tummy.

mina looks worn down, creases lining the shirt she’d ironed this morning but the moment she looks up and sees boa she grins brightly and raises her hands to cup around her mouth. “should i come up?”

“yes!”

mina smiles wider, sharing a glance with sungil. “should i come up?”

boa’s whole body shakes with the breath she sucks in before she screams out “YES!”

mina all but runs up the stairs to the their apartment and boa swats at her father’s shoulder till he sighs and puts her down.

boa shrieks, chubby feet hitting the floor at full speed as she shouts “ma ma ma ma ma!” and runs to mina, who crouches and picks up the toddler, spinning her around and kissing her cheeks. “did you miss me? did you miss me a lot?” she leans and pretends to bite boa’s cheeks, laughing when she flails and throws her arms around mina’s neck in a hug.

sungil puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, grinning. it’s almost the same every day - boa rushing to greet her mother when she comes home, always too happy to see her again. he’d think she’d forgotten about her dad if she didn’t make him piggy back her around the house for hours today.

mina bounces boa against her hip, barely looking at sungil when he takes her bag from her.

she steps inside first, putting down boa. “ah, look you’ve gotten your feet dirty. didn’t dad put your shoes on for you before coming outside?”

boa grins, jumping up and down with too much glee. “no! he forgot!”

sungil looks between them, pouting at mina while she grins at him.

boa slams the door in his face.

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capsize.

gift for @ksung. written in 2016. nsfw.

He screams at the top of his lungs, howling and proud before he’s tackled by a teammate. The gymnasium is bursting to life, and Sungil’s not quite sure if the moment is real, surrounded by cheering and laughter and its not till he realizes that Daewon is crying in his arms that they won.

Sungil has barely brushed his fingers against the trophy, smiled for the picture before he’s being pulled away, breathless and grinning when Mina intertwines her fingers with his and moves close, presses a flutter of kisses to his jaw and he can’t help but laugh when he feels her smiling against his skin. He doesn’t question it when she leads him back to the changing rooms, away from the celebration. Sungil is all too pliant, adrenaline running high in his veins and burning where her hands touch his, sliding over his arms to push him into one of the stalls. It’s only when they part so she can lock the door does Sungil quite register whats happening.

“I thought-“ her mouth is demanding against his, “we were gonna wait till-“ hot, desirous, “after my finals results.” Her teeth tug at his lip, a hand in his hair to push his head back, a silent command to shut up.

His legs are shaking and when she pushes him to sit down on the bench he falls back all too easily, hands reaching out to pull her into his lap, sliding under her skirt to smooth over her thighs. Mina hums, fingers tightening in his hair, forcing him to look up at her. The fluorescent lights above them cast a shadow over her face; red mouth pulled into a smile, dark eyes looking at him with such intensity he’s glad he’s sitting down, because his knees go weak at the sight.

Mina shifts, pressing closer to him and moving her legs so she’s balanced on top of one thigh. “You were so good out there.”

When she kisses him again, its slower, teasing his mouth open with flicks of her tongue, and Sungil moans when he feels her grind down on his thigh, delicate fingers pushing up his shorts so he can feel the thin fabric of her panties against his skin.

“A reward,” she murmurs, voice sweet and low against his mouth, “for a job well done.”

He digs his nails into her thighs when she pulls away, sitting up straight before her hand closes around his throat. And Sungil tips his head back, baring his neck, all too eager when she promises it’ll feel good.

The first press is light, and Sungil keens, rolls his hips up into nothing, grinning when he hears Mina’s breath hitch, hips stuttering over his thigh. “I can take it, you know I can, I want it, I want it,”

And Mina’s hand tightens impossibly around his neck, cutting off his breathing almost entirely. She uses her grip on him as leverage to drag her cunt over his thigh, using him up to get off, and he can feel her wet against his skin, wet through her panties. Her thighs are tense, and Sungil drinks in the sight of them around his own before he closes his eyes, whimpering as he tries to suck in a breath. The nails in his throat feel like benediction, and he’s hopeless, falling apart so easily for her.

There’s white at the edge of his vision, throat grasping at air. His chest is heaving, muscles tight and straining under Mina’s tiny form. She coos, whispers her praise and rides his thigh for all that she can, and Sungil whines, arching up and desperate for it, embarrassingly hard in his shorts, cock spitting precome against his boxers even though she hasn’t even touched him.

His hands tighten over her thighs, her hips, her ass, rocking up into her as best as he can, whining pathetically when he feels her knee brush over his crotch. His lungs burn, body so tense it feels like he’ll break before she gives him permission to come apart.

Sungil runs his nails down her thighs, hard enough that he leaves welts in their place and he can feel her trembling in his hands, slipping from the hedonic slow grind to a desperate, stuttering pace, riding his thigh for all the dull friction he can give her before she’s tensing up around him, legs seizing up and clamping around his as her body shudders. Sungil gasps for breath, can feel her cum on his thigh, and feels used up to get her off - the thought has him keening. She removes her hand from his throat to press her palm onto his crotch, he can’t help but mewl, white submission filling up his vision, falling apart too quickly from how long she’s had him high strung, hips rocking up into her hand.

Mina leans forward and kisses him, mouth slow and insistent against his, slowing him down till the adrenaline fades away to something manageable and he’s kissing her back lazily, loose-limbed and breathless. Her fingers card through his hair and Sungil pulls away to rest his forehead against her neck, mouth pressing against the luxurious curve of her shoulder as he catches his breath. 

“Good?”

He laughs lightly against her skin, curling into her body. “Really good.”

They’re still for a while, Mina’s fingers in his hair, exchanging lazy kisses between them. Sungil shifts, pulling her in closer. But as he shifts his leg he grimaces, shorts sticky with his release and Mina snickers, resting her forehead on the junction between his shoulder and neck. He huffs, opening his mouth to tell her off, but the door to the changing rooms open and they both freeze, listening as the other members of the team charge in, loud and boisterous and Mina sits up, a pinched look to her face like she’s making a very extraordinary effort to not panic.

Her eyes flit down to his neck, and Sungil doesn’t need a mirror to tell it’s covered in bruises, turning purple in the shape of her fingers. He relishes in them, the stamp of her ownership, but Mina looks panicked, so endearing her wants to kiss her again, make her relax till she forgets what it even was that troubled her. “I have make up in my bag…” she whispers, glancing towards the door of the cubicle. Her bag, unfortunately, is not with them.

She’s standing up as quietly as she can while Sungil slumps back, thighs spread to avoid the stickiness, looking sated and fucked out and grinning, because he can’t even bring himself to care.

“Don’t need make up,” he says, ignoring the glare she gives him for not whispering. “Nothing wrong with my girlfriend fucking me.”

Mina breathes in sharply, huffing as she reaches down to tug off her panties - soiled now, and Sungil croaks at the sight of them slipping down her legs - presumably to tuck into her pocket. “I did not fuck you and I certainly won’t till you get your results back.”

The noise outside the cubicle dims, and the indignant look on Mina’s face morphs into one of horror when she realizes she forgot to control her volume. Sungil doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as funny as Mina, cheeks burning with embarrassment, holding her dirty panties and her breath, trying to find somewhere to hide in a three foot wide changing stall. Sungil wets his lips, before reaching forward to pluck her underwear out of her hands and dangling it between them on his finger. “You go, I’ll just get changed here.”

He tilts his head to the side, cocky as ever, like she hadn’t just made him beg, and Mina huffs, turning on her heel and (he doesn’t miss the deep breath she takes before) opening the door, walking straight past his gawking teammates. The juvenile shrieks are soon to follow, growing louder when his teammates look through the open doorway and see Sungil grinning, legs splayed, panties in hand, running his fingers over the bruises on his neck with pride.

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mirror.

gift for @ksung. written in 2016.

“Help me out with this.”

Sungil peeks his head out of the closet, brows raised quizzically before he steps forward to take the necklace out of her hands, waiting for her to lift her hair so he can clasp it around her neck. It’s an elaborate piece, a pretty line of sparklers lining her throat to offset the dangling earrings she’s worn. He catches her gaze in the mirror, squeezing her shoulders as he leans down to whisper by her ear. “You look good.”

“Just good?” She turns her head, laughing as her lips brush his nose and leave a spot of red.

He huffs, pressing closer and wrapping his arms around her waist, hand delicately tracing over the zipper of her dress. “You look beautiful.”

The reflection of his eyes flicker from the line of her cleavage back up to meet her gaze, dark, curious. His mouth is flat, void of its usual grin, and a shiver runs up her spine. She watches in the mirror as his mouth curls up with a coy smile, but she’s quick to swallow down desire and reach back to flick his forehead. “And you’re only saying that because you haven’t put your suit on yet and you don’t want to.”

And all too quickly Sungil is groaning, pulling away with a huff as he trudges off to the closet to find a suitable tie, muttering dirty things under his breath that Mina pretends not to hear. She’d rather mention them again after dinner and to see the look on his face when she catches him off guard.

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champagne.

gift for @ksung. written in 2016.

They start off in the kitchen, because they’re already a little drunk, bellies warm and full from a night out, and it’s easier to clean champagne off a tiled floor than a carpet. But they migrate to the living room eventually anyway, bottle in hand, leaning against each other before they’re curling around each other on the floor, backs against the couch as they exchange kisses around giggles.

Mina breaks away to pour them both a glass, spilling some on her fingers. Sungil is quick to lean in, grinning as he licks over her fingers sloppily, drunk and kittenish. She yelps, jerking backwards and laughing as he tumbles forward, face planting on her chest.

She downs her glass and Sungil’s in quick succession, grinning at how he pouts. He’s over eager to catch up, grabbing the bottle and drinking straight from it. Except it’s too much and he’s choking, drink spilling from the corners of his mouth as Mina laughs, clapping her hands at his misfortune. He sets the bottle down on the coffee table with a huff before grabbing Mina and pulling her to his chest, ignoring her squeals. He bites down on her shoulder, before grumbling against the spot, ever the petulant child. “You can’t laugh at me,” he mumbles unhappily. “It’s my night.”

Twisting around, Mina reaches up to pinch his cheek, wiggling around till they’re laying side by side on the floor. “Yeah, but you’re a loser.”

“Me?” He says, eyes comically wide, finger pointed at himself.

A grin spreads on his face, and he strikes Mina as oddly boyish, with his mussy hair and flushed cheeks, biting down on his lip like a teenager with a scandalous secret. “But you love me.”

She gasps, reaching up to cover his mouth, “I never said that,” but he licks at her fingers till she’s shrieking and rolling away, knees bumping against the coffee table. Sungil rolls after her, cheering loudly when he catches up and pins her down, settling his weight against her so she can’t move and grinning like a fool. “You know you do~” He sings, leaning down to pepper her neck with kisses till she’s a giggling mess, swatting at his arms in an unspoken cry for mercy.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Sungil pouts, but it’s not long before she’s squishing his cheeks and smothering him with kisses, laughing at his gargled shock.

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moonlight.

gift for olive. written ~1.5 years ago. 

he draws his finger in spirals over her back, nail skimming over the knobs of her spine. she’s always been so thin, skin and bird bones that rattle with the blow of anything that smells of accusation. even know, eyes shut and hands still, she’s almost too much. goose skin on her arms, flesh almost blue - how long as she been like this? his hands shake, conscious swallowed whole when her eyes finally flit up to meet his. light streams in through the open window, casting the spidery shadows of her lashes over her cheeks, a mimicry of innocence. he’s too accustomed to sharpness of her nails in his skin to fall for the facade of a feather-light touch.

olivia looks up to him, turning to lie on her back. her shirt’s ridden up above her stomach and she tugs it down idly, the beginnings of a huff in her mouth.

alec manages an amused smile, turning away to shut the window, locking it. his hands hesitate at the curtains, before deciding to leave them open. the light of a lamp is too bright, and as cold as the moonlight feels, he likes the way it looks coming through the window, pale and clear. most of all he likes how it looks in her eyes, shining and sparkling and so unexpectedly warm - like she wasn’t freezing herself half to death just moments ago. it’s something he’ll never understand and it pains him to even try. how she can be so resilient, so hell-bent on self-preservation yet subject herself to tortures like this. she hates the cold. she never says it but he knows; he pays too much attention to the way she shivers, how quick he hears the sound of her chattering teeth. she talks to him, always, except when she’s cold, and alec likes the sound of her voice too much to force her silent for so long.

“why’d you close the window?”

her voice is almost a whine, and something curls in his chest.

“you’re no fun to me if you’re frozen like an icicle.” alec crawls onto the bed to sit next to her, and olivia squirms, wiggling petulantly, pouting to hide the smile on her face. “you’re mean.”

alec scrunches up his nose, reaching over to pinch her arm. “icicle. i could snap you like a twig if i wanted.”

olivia huffs at that, swatting his hand away and pulling him down to lie beside her with an arm thrown over his waist. she’s crawling up onto his chest before he can even realize what’s happening, but his arms slide over her back on instinct, pulling her closer. with his hands against her arms, he can feel how terribly cold she really is, skin prickled with goosebumps. he rubs his palms over the flesh, a silent attempt to warm her up.

it’s all a learning process - she won’t let him voice his concerns, silver tongue crushing them with every curl of her mouth around venom.

but like this, silent and comforting, she falls pliant in his arms, even sighing in relief when he squirms and manages to get the blanket over the both of them. her pride is too large for him to do what he wants the way he wants to, but she’ll turn a blind eye and let him have her in murmurs and gestures, where she can ignore the way he feels her heart races when he presses his lips to the column of her neck, desperate to make her feel. feel because he’ll never get her to talk, to answer the questions he wants.

besides.

he already knows what she’s scared of. and coward that he is, alec can’t muster up the strength to change what they have.

olivia curls up against his chest, legs tangling between his. her breathing has slowed, a sign that she’d been waiting up for him without saying so. they’re not even having sex tonight - an unspoken agreement, from when he’d seen her exhaustion the moment he’d stepped into the room - and this all feels so terribly like something he wants, something he is so desperate to have, could have, but it’s not right. not the way it should be.

she curls a hand around his bicep, pinching the skin. “you think too much.”

it’s a silent plea for him to stop.

alec lets out a laugh, ignores that it sounds choked even to him. “yeah, because one of us has to make use of our brain.”

she pinches his arm harder, lifting her head to glare at him. “watch it. this is my bed and i can still kick you out if i wanted.”

“you couldn’t even if you wanted to.”

he only offers her a grin in return, hollow mouth desperately attempting sincerity. it works, even if the truth has been broken to bend around the lies they tell themselves.

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mmmmmmmm the mood’s off fellas so im just gnna post some of my old drabbles here so theyre like. on the cloud

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[ wordspel ]

minhae smoothes his hand up yeongsoo’s collar, fingers tapping against the bone and tracing their way up his neck, touch feather light. “what would it get you?” he whispers, dropping his eyes to their lips, knowing yeongsoo is watching his every movement. minhae does want him, but playing up his desire doesn’t hurt. 

he steps back, lets the cold air rush between them, twirling so lightly on his feet it’s as if the sudden heaviness around them had totally dissipated.

“a favor for a favor. you can ask me for anything you want, now or later.” 

neon.

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[ wordspel ]

“no, i don’t think so either,” minhae’s voice is flat, and he gives yeongsoo a look. either he wasn’t as clever as minhae had thought or he had drastically overestimated minhae’s craftiness (a compliment, really, but he’d appreciate flattery of a different kind). 

“show me, please,” he takes yeongsoo’s hand, squeezes it in his own as he presses up to them, chest to chest and leans in. “you’re such a darling.” minhae makes no effort at all to conceal his intentions - yeongsoo knows already that he’s a liar, a flatterer, desperate for pretty things (them included), and so when he leans in, so close his lips are nearly brushing against yeongsoo’s when he speaks, he stands firm, waits for their reaction. 

“you’ll help me, won’t you?” 

neon.

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[ wordspel ]

ryu gives her a small smile, an incredulous one, before letting out a breath and shaking his head, the kindness fleeting and gone. of course she wouldn’t know - a woman like her must leave the palace so infrequently, has probably never even seen the kind of life those outside are living, how the very air they breath tastes like death inhaled. she’s two sides of the same coin, naïveté and purposeful ignorance, and ryu has no patience for either. 

he doesn’t like the tone of her voice, but there’s no need to make it clearer than it already is. 

“i find that nature is always more beautiful in the poems. even the most beautiful flower will rot.”

he leans back in his seat, eyes blank as a servant steps in, removes his plate to present him with another. he’s barely touched his food, but ryu has only moved it around enough to be polite, chewed on a few bites here and there to satisfy the prying eyes in their direction. 

The Announcement

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[ wordspel ]

minhae waves off the other’s comment with a nonchalant tip of his hand, circling around the banister of the area, leaning over to see the landing below was empty. good, that they’d have no witnesses, but it left the question of how to steal a chandelier (even a small one like this) without somehow flying up in the air to unlatch it.

he turns back to yeongsoo, then to the chandelier and the distance to the floor beneath it, and pouts.

he’s not that tall, unfortunately. oh what a lovely thought though, if he was that tall, and the rest of him was proportionate too-

“what do you think everything is, yeongsoo? all i want is something pretty.”

neon.