#but it's often *normalised*

[clockwork-carstairs]

i have to say seeing how popular jem is now, knowing he hasn't always been, is SO reassuring and relieving. not because other characters aren't great or have good values, but because it means jem's standout qualities – things like kindness, compassion, gentleness, being thoughtful – are being appreciated and seen as more important and that's SUCH a good thing. especially knowing ya's history of pushing forward the toxic-cocky-mysterious bad boy agenda… we're finally putting qualities like kindness above that, which is a really positive step forward. i know it's more nuanced than this, and tsc's characters are far more nuanced (jem's sole trait isn't being kind, for instance) but he wasn't always appreciated this much and as a longtime jem fan i truly love to see it. i grew up reading books where the mc always went for the mysterious bad boy character – ruder, testy, provocative – and often these characters were more popular because being kind was seen as 'boring' or meant you could only ever be in the friendzone. jem was one of the first characters i read who had this really horrible backstory, but throughout everything was genuinely just kind. it's really wonderful to see so many people appreciating that :)

[multishipperbish]

rotating the idea of a Jalph soulmate AU inside my head

but not a traditional fix-it soulmate AU where they find each other and immediately fall in love and all is well that goes well. What about that "first words are tattooed somewhere on their body" AU where Ralph has "Where's the man with the trumpet?" on his arm and Jack has "There's no man with a trumpet. Only me." on his leg.

What if they meet each other for the first time and they're friends. What if Jack betrays Ralph and they start hating the words on them. What if Ralph covers his arm with mud and Jack his leg with blood. They're hesitant to clean up when they're on the boat back home. During future confrontations their eyes wander and they meet gazes and just know what the other's thinking : what if we could have made it work?

It's the 1950s so obviously they're not thinking about being in a relationship. Maybe the media normalises platonic soulmates. Maybe not; maybe their parents told them they'd better have female soulmates or else. Maybe after their first meeting, Ralph looks at his arm every now and then and feels a deep discomfort in his stomach but he tells himself it's fine as long as they're on the island because nobody's going to bother them about it. Maybe Jack starts wearing longer pants after the island because his father found out and started hassling him about finding the girl who'd speak about a trumpet, however strange she may sound.

And maybe then they're back in school and undergoing therapy (probably not cause the 1950s were yikes about mental health but it'd nice to think about) they see their soulmarks and the feeling of longing from before the island comes back. "If only I could find them I'd be whole" turns to "If only I'd handled it better". They wish it could have worked. They wish they could have stayed friends. If only it had gone differently. Right person wrong time. Because if they're soulmates obviously their souls are going to feel like something's missing their whole lives now that they've found each other and they're apart, so add to that the PTSD and whatever else is going on inside their heads, the poor boys will not be having a good time.

Maybe Jack feels the pull of the hunt after the island (because I personally headcanon that he's lived pretty repressed beforehand due to his strict parents and the island gave him freedom he's never had before; the hunt was an amalgamation of all the stress that comes from having an overbearing successful Father with a capital F melting off his bones) AND the pull of the soul. Maybe he meets people with fair hair and the most gorgeous smile and he wants to vomit because he remembers the blood on his hands. Maybe Ralph is trying to socialise at school and he sees parts of Jack in everyone he meets. Maybe Ralph tells himself to shut up about his missing half, he doesn't have it that bad, just look at Simon and Piggy and the mulberry kid! at least he's not dead! (don't do that kids. that's a horrible coping mechanism. seek professional help) and still he goes to church and hears the choir and wonders if Jack still sings.

I dunno it's just an idea!! I am not done yapping about this. Will add on through reblogs if needed

[luminiera-merge]

(i'm unclear on whether i come off as kinda negative to people nowadays but i promise it's not that. for me it's pushback against toxic positivity because i think everyone deserves the space to be able to say "yeah things fucking suck" without being offered Advice about it right afterwards)

[tyrannuspitch]

i honestly find it really weird how often people (including allies or fellow trans ppl trying to be supportive/just making some larger point) assert that gay trans people are "seen as" straight people of our AGABs. like... seen by whom? under what circumstances? because as a gay trans man i promise you i get mistaken for a lesbian for looking like a masc woman just as often as pre-t trans guys of any other orientation lmao. i don't have a flashing sign over my head that says "this transsexual man likes men, all other signs of queerness may be disregarded"

[vimbry]

aw I like the way science linnell's design has crooked lil teeth

[cruelsister-moved2]

sorry if this is judgemental but any time a couple has sex like once a day or more i just think erm well it cant be very good sex then.........usually its a straight couple too and um well i think i know whats going down there. i think the sex should be good enough to give me eunuch calm for a few days i want to need a nap after i cant really comprehend what type of sex ur having that u regularly have time and energyto do it multiple times a day sorry *not trying to be judgemental *

[threewaysdivided]

At the heart of it, something - maybe the thing - that really hurts me about what became of the animated Young Justice show is the way later seasons are contemptuously cynical-bordering-on-hateful towards the ideals of heroism set out by its own first season.

In Season 1, Superman states that the Justice League of Earth-16 upholds the ideals of Truth, Liberty and Justice.  And yet, the thing the characters from Season 2 onwards can be most reliably expected to do is lie.  

They lie constantly, for ill-justified, often-selfish reasons, with the intent to control and manipulate their peers (and civilians), in ways that betray and endanger people who trust them.  And when confronted they refuse to hold themselves accountable, at best giving lip-service apologies that are rendered meaningless by them continuing the same behaviours in later episodes/ seasons.

That is mind-numbingly awful.  The S2+ iterations of these characters have not only failed to embody their own series’ stated ideals of heroism, but have so consistently acted antithetically to them that, if placed into almost any other hero story (or even their own first season), they would at best be tragic dire-warning fallen heroes, and at worst be insidious Justice Lord-style villains.

Not only that but later seasons seem almost personally vindictive towards the specific ideals and aspirations of the individual characters:

The Dick Grayson of Season 1 was openly afraid to become someone who would sacrifice others for the sake of the mission.  And yet the Nightwing of S2 onwards is forcibly re-written as a compulsively dishonest manipulator who pointlessly conceals information and concocts callous sacrifice-plans by default.  (‘Dick Grayson is a pathological liar’ becoming a fandom meme.)

The Bruce Wayne of Season 1 openly admitted that he didn’t want Dick to become too like him, and was invested in the emotional wellbeing of the proteges. And yet the Batman of S2 onwards is rewritten to actively enable Nightwing becoming exactly that; an approving co-conspirator who praises him for the ‘respect’ he now commands.

The Kaldur’ahm of Season 1 was concerned that he behaved too much like a soldier to be an effective leader, while worrying about the possible damage he might do by forcing that mantle onto Robin too soon.  And yet the Kaldur of S2 onwards is rewritten to be unfit for every leadership position the show arbitrarily hands him, specifically because he consistently enables Nightwing to use him as a soldier in plans that go against every principle the Team once stood for.

The M’gann M’orzz of Season 1 was terrified of creating a situation where her powers would hurt the people she cares about.  And yet the Miss Martian of S2 onwards is re-written to intentionally misuse and abuse her powers; violating Conner’s boundaries, manipulating him, Garfield, Artemis and others, and destroying the minds of people she has decided are her enemies.

The Conner Kent of Season 1 wanted to know what it meant to be Superman while not wanting to be treated as a weapon.  And yet the Superboy of S2 onwards is never given a meaningful personal or professional relationship with Superman on screen, while being used as a pawn and a tool by teammates who constantly lie to him, with the writing putting the burden on him to accept and forgive this mistreatment.  (The show itself being unable to fully pretend that his and Miss Martian’s rewritten relationship isn’t abusive).

The Artemis Crock of Season 1 was desperate to become her own hero and define herself by something other than her criminal family.  And yet the Tigress of S2 onwards is forcibly narratively separated from her ‘new family’ and defined primarily by her relationship to her biological family and brother-in-law, while being narratively punished for and written to regret every show of agency that doesn’t involve retiring from heroism to become a subservient trad-wife to either Wally or Red Arrow (because Greg Weisman is a misogynist).

The Wally West of Season 1 was a character who questioned the objectivity of others and learned to appreciate that the value of heroism was helping people. And yet the Kid Flash of S2 onwards is rewritten to be a jaded cynic who decides heroism isn’t worth it (in order to remove him from the narrative), is rudely dismissed by Nightwing when he attempts to question the plan, has his cynicism validated when he is killed in a twist to hurt the audience, and after which is only grieved in superficial ways as the others use his death to justify actions he would never have stood for.

The Zatanna Zatara of Season 1 was insecure about living up to her father’s legacy, especially after losing him to the Helmet of Fate.  And yet the Zatanna of S2 onwards is never allowed to heal from that loss or grow into a magician in her own right, instead being relegated to a support character who is arbitrarily handed whatever magical abilities are needed to solve plot problems, uses her powers to manipulate others, and is primarily defined as either Nightwing’s ex-lover or by her Father (because, again, misogynist).

The Roy Harper of Season 1 was a proud character driven to prove his worthiness for League membership, only to be shaken by the reveal that he was a Cadmus sleeper agent.  And yet, the Red Arrow of S2 onwards is never allowed a satisfying on-screen arc about identity or self; instead being used first as a prop to introduce Arsenal and then as a surrogate-Wally for Nightwing and strong-male-provider for Tigress to fall into the arms of (oh right, the misogyny).

Even the Team as a unit, the bonds between them, the themes of trust and communication, and everything they worked to achieve in Season 1 is systematically torn apart and undone across Invasion and Outsiders in a way that feels almost intentionally cruel.

I’ve heard people compare Young Justice to Dreamwork’s Voltron, and while that is a fair comparison, I think Young Justice is actually worse.  Voltron managed to sustain itself for 3 seasons before gradually falling apart over another 4, and - while it was tragic in the loss of its theme, abandoning of stakes, failure to conclude character arcs and weakening of cast bonds - it never felt like the Paladins were intentionally hypocritical to the point of being toxic for one another, or like they were a threat to the fundamental ideals of the Lion corps.

Meanwhile the core cast of Young Justice have been so consistently re-written to betray each other’s trust and their own explicitly stated values while never taking ownership of or changing their behaviour (no matter how many times they are confronted over it or see it hurt others) that eventually you stop wanting them to succeed and start wanting them to fail just for there to be some accountability.  And when that doesn’t happen (because the showrunners and executives don’t see a problem with selfish, dishonest, unjust behaviour) you almost start wanting them to die, if only because death would be a kinder fate than being forced to exist as a corrupted parody of everything they never wanted to become.

And if Earth-16 is a world where fundamental heroic ideals like compassion, honesty, respect and accountability are sneered at as childish things that cannot survive into adulthood?  If this is their reimagining of Dick Grayson - a character who in many stories is so meant to embody the ideals of heroism that any world in which he is a good person is worth saving?  Then, frankly, Darkseid can have this one and good riddance.

This is what I mean when I say that Young Justice only truly has one season.  Season 1 is a very distinctive and separate product to the rest: a sum total of its entire production and executive team.  To me, it was the last breath of a golden age of DC TV-animation, with heavy creative input from DC/Cartoon Network old-guard members like Jay Oliva and Michael Chang (a pair of directors who were prominently involved in the Teen Titans animated series, and who together directed over 75% of YJS1 - each individually handling more episodes than any of the writers, including Greg Weisman).

And then a change came and we see those old-guard creatives disappear from the credits of S2 onwards.

It feels like the new production/executive teams hated what Young Justice Season 1 was.  It’s kind of an open secret that multiple Cartoon Network shows were cancelled around that time due to a combination of poor toy sales (partially resulting from the low quality/ limited variety of official merchandise) and for having too much ‘four quadrants appeal’, especially when it came to drawing in unexpected numbers of older female viewers.  (There’s this deeply stupid marketing idea that shows which attract an audience outside of their intended demographic are “internally competing” with and drawing profit/ sales away from shows aimed at those other demographics).   That might also explain why Oliva, Chang and other old-guard members dropped from the production, since Teen Titans seems to have been one of the other shows under fire. This is just speculation but it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that Young Justice Season 1 was up for cancellation and - instead of just dropping the show and launching a new one - the decision was made to cancel it in all but name; gutting everything that actually made it what it was and repurposing the brand identity and visual aesthetic to take advantage of an established audience.

We never really got a genuine narrative continuation of Season 1.  What we got was a series of In Name Only sequels, designed to sell merchandise, subscriptions and comics, by new production/executive teams that wanted the show to be anything other than itself.  And, in repurposing the title to sell a set of antithetical stories as sequels, those later seasons destroyed any future possibility to actually see that original story continued or concluded.

This is why I haven’t watched Season 4, why I won’t be using any of it in my own fandom stuff (and why I’m low-key kind of offended by its premise).  It’s existence is creatively bankrupt; I’ve talked about it here but the showrunners and production/executive teams have so thoroughly dissembled every piece of narrative mechanics that there simply isn’t a story or stakes to carry it.  And the claims that Phantoms was going to return to the original team or that ‘this has always been their story’ are blatantly exploitative.   This is a show that has had nothing but condescending cynicism-bordering-on-hatred for its own starting point.  Its second and third season have done everything they could to deny these characters their arcs, undercut their values and walk back everything they once worked to achieve.  If the showrunners and new production teams had ever sincerely cared about this story, its themes or its stated ideals of heroism then they would never have re-written them in such a fundamentally contemptuous way.   We would never have been given Invasion and we certainly wouldn’t have been given Outsiders.  So for Phantoms to try to crawl back; to make one final grasp at profit by pretending to care about characters and a season it has done nothing but cynically undermine and misrepresent… it’s emblematic of the kind of bald-faced dishonesty and manipulativeness that has destroyed this show from the inside out.  

From a narrative perspective, Young Justice only has one season: the original Oliva-Chang directed season, by a production/executive team that genuinely seemed to care about who its heroes were, understood the ideals they stood for, and made a sincere effort to tell a good story.

But it has been followed by a corrupted, soulless parody of everything it never wanted to become: full of hypocritical, unjust strangers-wearing-familiar-faces, written to unapologetically do things that they know to be wrong in service of a product which is contemptuously cynical-bordering-on-hateful towards the ideals of truth, liberty and justice.

A show that now hates everything it used to stand for.

And it just about makes you want to cry.

[rovermcfly]

here's a thing I have noticed as I navigate the internet daily as both a content consumer and creator:

many people don't read or click links.

and that's not a judgement, it's mostly an observation. people will comment a question on a video that gets answered in a disclaimer in the first 10 seconds of the video. people will ask where they can find something in a picture when there's a link below the picture. I'm sure everyone has seen this phenomenon before.

that is why media literacy starting at absolute 0 is so important. The first thing you learn is literally to read. and you might think "that's fucking stupid everyone should know they have to read" but that's why media literacy has failed so many: nobody thinks to teach this because they think it's obvious. but it isn't to everyone.

many educators start media literacy with "fact check things you read online" and just like that half the target audience is already lost. reading comprehension on the internet is different from the reading comprehension we're taught in school. someone might have a decent understanding of a book after reading it but not understand how to filter information, what to read and what to skip and where to find things on a website.

you have to teach how to read the internet if you teach media literacy. how to scan a page, what embedded links look like, where you might find answers to your questions (like for example YouTube description boxes, pinned comments, additional replies to a tweet etc), how to find and use menu buttons on websites etc.

many people dismiss these things because they understand them and therefore assume everyone naturally does as well. but you can't teach fact checking or lateral reading or appropriate vigilance without teaching these basics first.

[katya-goncharov]

i could literally make such a long list of deliberately !unlikeable! comedy characters in popular shows who are actually just autistic coded, but it would be so long that there would be no point making it because it would include almost every punchline comedy character there is

[albatris]

i need to inflict t1d on a character. i need to inflict t1d on a character. i need to inflict t1d on a character

[suck-mein-pokeballs]

We need less autism awareness cause the autism allegations have breached the autistic community for me

[tyrannuspitch]

we know enough about odin to conclude that he is the worst father in the universe but. hmm. due to the fragmented nature of the story we actually get to see. i am still Somewhat Fascinated to know what odin is actually like to live with. because we only see him in major crises, and major crises are clearly not the only situations where his sons are supposed to fear him.

like idk... something about the way loki says the phrase "defying father"... especially given that he and thor are both firmly adults at that point... hmm. haunting.

[a-sip-of-milo]

It's always infuriated me hearing people say that children have it easy. It's only gotten worse as I've gotten older and have been able to reflect on my childhood and see the children around me grow up.

They do not have it easy. They don't get a say in most important things. They're seen is unintelligent, yet expected to understand things that full grown adults struggle with.

They've got a job, which is school, that is actually proven to not be working for a lot of them; myself included. They're expected to sit still and in silence for at least forty minutes at a time, and those with ADHD are treated as though they're immature and lazy because they often physically can't do it.

Far too many of them have abusive parents that lie through their teeth to make people think everything is fine, and of course, who would believe the child over the parent?

Aspects of abuse has been normalised. Parents are sympathised with when children open up about the things they've gone through, especially if they're not physical. They're told that their parents are only doing this because they love them, or that the child needs to start seeing things from their point of view. Meanwhile, adults can freely complain about their children on public forums and to friends and family and get away with it because "it's hard being a parent".

Fuck off and do better.

DNI Believers of narcissistic/borderline/anti-social/histrionic abuse.

[ibtisams]

Anyway I think national eating disorder awareness week is almost over but I do want to say that as cheesy as it is, recover is possible and it does get better and easier and you will feel like yourself again. There is no shame in asking for help, needing help, or wanting help. There IS shame in how so much of modern media is centered around weight and beauty standards for girls and how often celebrities and influencers normalise disordered eating.

[blackpilljesus]

I saw this from the female separatism subreddit & the responses are some of the biggest reasons for separatism et al (or extinction if I'm being candid here). Moids cant be reformed they are fully aware of the hell they force women to live in. MaIe achievement & happiness is rooted in female exploitation & life. Their glory days are based on our horrific days. No amount of love, kindness or facts will change maIes and we cannot happily or even neutrally coexist with them.

Main points across answers:

Many want to experiment but not permanently be women

They dont want to be in constant danger or lose their autonomy at the hands of maIes for merely existing

They dont want to deal with childbirth (& periods)

They dont want to have to share spaces with species much stronger than them with ulterior motives

It makes me go crazy seeing people give moids benefit of doubt for their evil like "maIes just dont understand", "we need to teach maIes", or claiming that maIe violence is a result of maIes struggling with (expressing) their feelings. I get that women love maIes and it can be hard to imagine that people can intentionally be so evil but it is what it is. MaIes have no problems expressing themselves, abusing women is what maIes choose to do because they enjoy & benefit from it - that is their expression.

MaIes see the same news of women being abused, raped, and killed like we do except rather than be disheartened or alarmed they're either apathetic or satisfied. It isn't aliens that's committing GBV it's maIes & maIes have no problem reminding women of this when women anger them (such as rape threats & threatening women they'll end up on the news/true crime). The victim blaming, denial, and derailment of misogyny is part of the game to keep the system alive, they know the events occured & are a systemic occurence they just dont care. Hell not only do they not care, they rejoice in it or get off on it.

MaIes set up environments that work in their favour which simultaneously ensures that women will lose. They know women are set up to live in damn near impossible conditions for us. It's normalised for women to defenselessly share personal & private spaces with beings much more stronger than them with ulterior motives for us, it's trap. It's interesting how these moids aren't saying that they'll just cover up and *poof* harrassment gone, or they'll just pick a nice guy & they'll be okay. MaIes know the net negative they are towards women.

MaIes know that childbirth is a painful process & what do they do? Demand it happens and make it even MORE painful for women. MaIes that impregnate women do not love or care for them. Pregnancy itself is dangerous & sometimes lethal, often comes with a range of health issues, to cause someone to be in that condition especially in a environment where abortions are illegal is reckless & unloving. Now imagine how sinister & full of hatred one has to be to impregnate someone and abuse them on top of that. Many women risk their health & lives to reproduce with a Y and they get abused by said Y instead of being taken care of. Deranged.

Realising that maIes are aware of the evil they inflict is one of the things that radicalised me. It isn't a miscommunication or ignorance issue, their violence is intended. They want control. The cruelty is the point. Instead of wasting time & energy trying to change maIes or hope that they "understand" one day, focus on yourself & other women (who prioritise women). Moids aren't oblivious to female pain they enjoy it. A lot of women treat maIe evil like it's a mistake on maIes part but it's calculated terrorism. I know that this will go over many womens heads as they refuse to hold strong negative sentiments about moids as a collective so if you're not a woman like that, take this post as a sanity check. You aren't crazy, it isn't all in your head.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.1k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted. 

At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.

Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.

“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.

“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.

“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”

You snorted. “Obviously not.” 

“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed. 

“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.

“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”

“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.

Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”

“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.

“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!” 

You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”

Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”

"I guess we'd better catch up then." 

It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.

"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."

The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.

"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"

Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.

You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.

Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."

You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."

Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"

"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"

"Chan?"

"No!"

Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."

"It’s not Minho!"

He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"

You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."

Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."

"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."

Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.

"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"

Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.

"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."

"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."

"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"

"Unfortunately," you confirmed.

"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.

"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"

Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"

You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."

"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. 

Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.

Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."

“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.

Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over." 

"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?" 

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."

"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly. 

"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"

Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."

Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine."

Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.

You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!" 

You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.

Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds. 

Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!" 

You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.

"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.

"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.

"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added. 

Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix. 

"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now." 

"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.

This wasn't too far from the truth.

Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room. 

“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”

Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck. 

You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”

Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”

“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.

You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“He’s typing!”

“No!” you wailed.

Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.

lol

"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?

"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh." 

"What?" you asked.

"He's calling me." 

You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"

Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.

"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.

Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.

"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.

Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously. 

"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.

"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.

"Sure."

"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?" 

"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.

“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.

“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”

“Not so fast.”

You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.

“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.

“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”

Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.” 

God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.

"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie. 

"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.

"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 

"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe. 

"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."

"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.

Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear. 

You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.

You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.

[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?

[10:44pm] You: lix please please please

[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is

You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?

[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though

[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room

[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there

You weighed up your options. 

Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.

Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.

Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.

It could only be option three.

His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy. 

You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.

“Ah. Look who it is.” 

Shit.

Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe. 

“All bark and no bite, hm?” 

“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.

He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”

“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”

You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.

“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”

You felt dizzy. “Improper?”

He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”

“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.

“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.

You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot. 

He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?

His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.

He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.

"Please," you breathed.

"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.

"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."

Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.

Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky. 

"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey." 

"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.

You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."

"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.

The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"

You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."

"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."

His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though. 

You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze. 

He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.

Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."

Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across. 

Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.

"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you. 

His dick.

You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.

Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."

"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"

"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."

You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said. 

Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.

The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."

"Please, what? Use your words."

"Please fuck me," you asked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."

You groaned. "I need it, though!"

Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"

"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."

He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?" 

You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.

You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.

"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.

"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.

Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.

"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke. 

You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me." 

"Then beg for it."

You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!" 

"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed. 

"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.

He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off. 

Holy fucking shit, you thought.

His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours. 

"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.

"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything." 

Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.

He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.

He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.

"Alright, baby, are you ready?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.

"More," you pleaded.

"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.

He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside. 

"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"

He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."

"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!" 

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby." 

"Just give me your stupid dick right now!" 

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."

He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.

"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears. 

"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take." 

"I-I can, just not so deep."

Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway. 

"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."

"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you. 

Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.

He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?" 

"More?" you asked, eyes wide. 

"Just a little more. For me?"

You nodded hesitantly.

Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling. 

"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."

You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you. 

"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"

"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told." 

You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."

Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."

You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.

It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.

"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.

"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are." 

That was all the prompting you needed.

Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.

"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."

His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.

"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned. 

He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."

Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.

"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.

You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.

"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.

You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."

Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."

You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?" 

"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."

"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."

Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."

"...Yeah." 

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms. 

You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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