#pretty much general rule is that it doesn’t

[agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity]

I have seen the leakers say the album is the worst they’ve ever heard, and you know what that means…..get ready for the absolute BANGER incoming! she’s going to the grammy’s with this one‼️aoty material!

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ HOLY GRAIL !

part one | part two

summary: in ancient rome, where survival is determined by the whims of a mad ruler, the empire's beloved general gives you – his first and only love – to the crazed emperor to ensure your safety. (6k)

pairing: marcus acacius / fem!reader, emperor geta / fem!reader

contents: established relationship, strangers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of war and violence, mentions of sex work, swearing, smut 18+ (dubcon, m receiving oral, unprotected sex, cuckholding, exhibitionism) (this is a pretty dark fic so pls heed the warnings!!!)

Marcus Acacius was the name on the lips of a thousand fallen empires. His ledger ran a deep scarlet color, which dripped like proof from his sword. The war had destroyed the General over the years — had turned the man into an empty thing filled only by untamable ghosts. The relentless battle had wrung his boyhood from his body like a slow, merciless death. Any remaining innocence has since been replaced with violence.

Rome made a legacy of his grotesque evils, turned him into a saint. Marcus Acacius did not want to be a saint. He did not want to be angry; he did not want to be cruel. He only wanted to love and to be left alone with his tenderness. His mouth filled with blood instead.

You loved him like all doomed, grotesque things are meant to be loved. In the dark. In the shadows of war. In the depths of the soul.

“This is me,” he confesses, the great General Acacius, returning to you like a ghost to its haunt. “This is who I am.”

His golden armor is sullied from a victorious battle, tainted now with blotches of soil and dried blood that’s not his own. His dirtied, unholy fists tremble at his sides as he fights the urge to cross the threshold of your quarters to meet you. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve to be held by you now. Not when he still wreaks of death.

He can still feel the breath of a fist on his bruised cheek, but the way his sword felt plunging through the beating heart of an enemy soldier plagues him most of all. 

“Love turned on me long ago— It is not a burden I compel you to carry.”

So, please, do not love me, he doesn’t say. I only know how to destroy you.

You smile at him, eyes soft with sympathy, and cross the threshold of longing with an admirable effortlessness. You cradle his weathered, war-torn face in your palms, willingly staining your delicate hands with the blood stained there.

“I love you despite. So I imagine I’ll carry it anyway,” you coo to him, gentle eyes locked firmly with his heavy ones. “And I’m certain you love me in return, regardless of what you think the siege has made of you.”

“There is naught I can do about it,” Marcus admits, words heavy with choked-back emotion. He melts into your touch but continues to deny himself the want to hold you back. “Not while I still oversee this campaign. Not while there is a war to be won—”

“We love each other, don’t we?” you interject, pleading eyes searching for emotion behind his dark, stoic gaze. Marcus swallows hard. His scruffy chin scrapes your palm as he nods once in response. You grin and say the unforgiving truth out loud. “So fuck the war.”

You pull him down by his face to press a kiss to his unclean lips. Marcus rests his shaking hands over your waist and lets you build cathedrals in his mouth with your tongue. The blood in his teeth turns to holy water. 

Marcus long understood that bringing you to the city would be his last act of love.

Keeping you in the heart of Rome was the only way he could ensure your safety, with the surrounding towns still under merciless siege. The people there were docile, and loyal most of all to the General who had won them a thousand wars. They would not hurt you because it was not in their kind too, and because they feared General Acacius’ wrath as much as they respected his mercy.

This was known to everyone in Rome except its Emperors.

Geta and Caracalla ruled together following their father’s untimely demise but shared not a brain between them. They were boys, after all, the oldest being hardly two-and-twenty –– it was in their nature to talk more than they listened, and to pretend as if they knew the world despite never leaving the city walls. 

They were as cruel and as stupid as anyone who wished to rule an empire would be.

But the two of them relied heavily on their General to keep the restless public at ease. It made it easier for Marcus to bring you with him, knowing he had the trust of the most powerful men in Rome. He knew Geta kept meticulous care of his most precious gifts — all Marcus had to do was get you there, really, and the Emperors would do the rest for him. 

It was simple, but it was not easy; though he imagines no war ever has been or would be. Both of you had survived, yes, but neither of you had been spared. Bringing you here was a testament to that, which you seemingly could not comprehend. You were as soft and green as the countryside he plucked you from, too naive for politics.

Marcus tells himself that this was the merciful decision, anyway, as he gives you a tour of Caracalla’s labyrinthine gardens — the place farthest from the feasting hall where the noblemen dined. Hidden behind climbing leaves, free from prying eyes.

“I can’t imagine why you would be so apprehensive in bringing me here. It’s beautiful,” you marvel aloud as you walk ahead of the man guiding you. 

Your sandals pad faintly along the cobbled trail as you skim your palm over the bed of blooming roses. The petals feel like silk against your skin. You pluck one from the soil, careful to avoid its thorns, and hold it up to your nose. You turn to face Marcus with the crimson flower resting on your cupid’s bow.

“And it smells better, too,” you quip softly, tilting your head to your shoulder as you smirk behind the budding rose.

Marcus just barely manages to bite back his own grin until you reach out for him, tapping the delicate flower against the bridge of his strong nose. He exhales hard through his nostrils in place of a laugh.

Your giggling comes carried on the breath of a warm summer breeze — a symphony of salty ocean, dainty florals, and the pretty oils you’d bathed in. The wind billows through your thin, white gown and creates music with rustling leaves. You squint one eye when the setting sun peeks through the swishing tree limbs, bathing you in a golden-hour aura. 

You’re as beautiful as sin. Sweeter than death. Smiling at him like this is the beginning of something that died the moment you entered the city walls.

Marcus clears throat and gently guides your hand away. His cautious eyes flit around the vacant garden. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, you find, despite being the strongest man in all of Rome. You feel safest at his side, so you don’t know why he always looks so frightened.

“I know you are drunk on youth and immortality, petal, but we cannot get ahead of ourselves,” he advises, all stiff and stern, though the term of endearment spills effortlessly from his mouth. “We’re in the city now. So we must play the part. Like we discussed.”

He speaks to you with an unintentional sort of vagueness that makes you bow your head like a scolded child. Your arm falls limp at your side. A scarlet petal slips from its stem and hits the unforgiving stone.

“I know,” you murmur with a poorly hidden frown that conveys otherwise. Your sheepish gaze flits from the ground to Marcus’ unwavering stare and to the ground again. “I just thought— whenever we were alone, that we might—”

“We aren’t alone. We must behave as though the city is full of eyes. Understand?”

“I can’t,” you confess, peering up at the General from beneath your lashes. 

Marcus’ chest stings, like the fiery sun blazing his newly-fashioned armor. “What do you mean you can’t?” he bites emotionlessly.

He looks like a corrupt sort of angel in this light, unnaturally handsome and hopelessly wartorn. He was as hard as the earth below your feet — a statue made of clay, iron, and marble — cold to the touch and melting only for you. 

His heavy eyes were so brown they looked almost black, and they shone with a perpetual sort of gloom. His gaze swam with the prophetic darkness of a man who’s seen too much, though you often felt like you could drown in its void. For a man so adept at killing, he looked at you with a remarkable softness.

It wasn’t as shallow as physical desire. It was something far more cruel. You wanted Marcus Acacius the same way flesh wanted to knit itself together over a healing wound. It was simply in your nature to love him. 

“I mean, it’s impossible,” you ramble with a concerned furrow to your brow. Your grip on the flower’s papery stem tightens until the bulb rattles with the force. “How am I to be here with you but not touch you? That’s like asking the seasons not to change— It’s unnatural, and it’s cruel—”

Marcus swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His hands begin to ache with the urge to touch you. He balls them into fists instead.

“It’s the only way I know to keep you safe!” he confesses, words sounding heavy in his mouth. His eyes flit across the garden in a paranoid search of something that isn’t there. “Emperor Geta will take care of you. I know he will. And his brother is a half-wit, but he is kind when he wishes. He’ll take a liking to you, I’m sure of it—”

You interject his anxious rambling with a stubborn shake of your head.

“I can’t be someone else’s,” you murmur, voice as wet as the tears glittering in your wide-eyed gaze. “I don’t know how.”

“You will learn,” Marcus tells you with an emotionless stare. Not because he’s sure you will, but because he knows you have to. “For me.”

Your pretty features swirl with anguish. “Marcus…” you whisper his name in a feeble whimper caught in your throat.

He does not soften at your emotion like you’re used to. He’s practiced apathy for so long that it comes naturally to him now. He bites his tongue to keep from kissing you and lets the blood stain his teeth all over again.

“If not for your own sake, then for mine. The Emperors would have my head if they understood the pretenses I brought you under.”

You flinch at his words, perhaps finally understanding the weight of the unforgiving world in which you live. The surest example of such cruelty stands before you now, in the only man you ever loved now using your purest devotion as a means to keep you pliant. But your anger for the merciless arrangement is long eclipsed by your yearning.

“Then I will,” you tell him, rigid with a glacial disposition Marcus hasn’t seen before now.

The choices here were few. Either you were slaughtered outside the city walls by soldiers and pillagers, or you were slaughtered within them — in the metaphorical sense that burns physically in your chest now. 

Being without Marcus feels like a fate worse than death, but you want him so desperately to live. So much so that you’ll fall on the sword of your longing and bleed out at his feet. Knowing that you’re under the same sky would have to be enough for you. 

You can’t tell which it is — sacrifice or self-slaughter — but Marcus knows it isn’t as poetic as all that. 

Death is death.

Emperor Geta staggers drunkenly down the spiral stone steps of the west wing of his castle. The path to his chambers is illuminated by several dwindling torches hung along the brick walls. The subtle squeaking of his leather sandals sounds much louder in the quiet — filled only by crackling flames, a distant dripping noise, and the song he slurs under his breath. 

The latter ceases suddenly when he stumbles to a stop at the sight of General Acacius. The man stands like a statue outside his bedroom door — arms crossed behind his back, old spine perfectly straight — like the obedient guard dog he is. 

The thought makes the Emperor’s lips curl into a crooked smile. “What are you doing here, dog?” he calls to the General as he approaches him, voice echoing down the soulless corridor.

“Your nameday present, your majesty��” Marcus answers and tries not to make a face when the Emperor stands before him. The bittersweet scent of wine stains his breath, overwhelmingly so. Geta was never one to practice temperance. “—I was told to see that you got it.”

The younger man hesitates. “From my uncle?” he wonders aloud.

Marcus nods wordlessly in response.

Geta pauses for a moment. His wide, glassy eyes flit over the General’s shoulder to the arched doorway behind him. His stomach swirls at the thought of what may lie inside. The last nameday present his uncle sent from overseas was a monkey his younger brother has grown much too attached to.

“Well… What is it?”

Marcus swallows hard and steps aside. “Look inside, your majesty.”

Geta takes a deep breath in and swings the creaking door open. His bedroom is lush with crimson silk and golden candlelight, familiarly fragranced with cinnamon and sweet myrrh. It’s accompanied by something foreignly floral, a feminine rosy-lavender that catches his attention before his eyes ever find you.

He steps through the threshold and finds a strange girl standing by the window, before a platter of fruit and wine — bathed half in the silver beams of a full moon, and half in flickering orange flames. 

White silk adorns your frame, so delicate it’s nearly see-through. One of your shoulders is mouthwateringly bare, and there’s a slit in the fabric that rises to your hip. You look as pure as a dove, though you’re so obviously built for sin.

The ground sways beneath Geta’s unsteady feet.

You crunch audibly into an apple before you realize anyone’s there. The juice runs down your chin before you swipe it away with the back of your hand. Only then do your eyes lock with the Emperor’s, who seems equally stunned to see you there. You tense and say nothing as you hide the bitten fruit behind your back.

“It’s a woman,” Geta observes to no one in particular, though his dark eyes have not yet wavered from yours.

Marcus stands behind him and nods — hands still clasped behind his back, heart still pounding against his ribcage. “Yes, your majesty. In plain terms.”

“Well,” the Emperor glances over his shoulder. “What does she do?”

“Whatever you want,” the General answers, though the words taste like vinegar on his tongue. He swallows the bitterness down like bile and leers at you, looking upon his lover as though she were a stranger. “You need only ask.”

Geta, satisfied by his answer, turns back to you. His initial surprise has ebbed into something more pleased, diabolically so. His pink lips curl into a sneer as he walks slowly towards you, eyeing you up and down with curious eyes — a predator stalking its prey.

“Is that true?” he asks you, voice ringing through the quiet room. “Or is he confusing you for a dutiful hound?”

“A dutiful whore, your majesty,” you correct with an acquiescent smile, following the story as Marcus intended. 

The half-truth comes easily to you. Not a lie exactly, but not the whole tale either. You’d spent many of your years working in a brothel on the outskirts of Rome. You were a young woman, unmarried, without family or viable prospects — whoring seemed the most obvious decision then, though it feels so long ago now. 

You’d waited your whole life for something, for Marcus, though you hadn’t expected it to kill you when you found it. You won’t die a saint if the crazed Emperor decides to take your head, but perhaps you could be a martyr. Perhaps that’ll be enough.

Fear beats through your body like a second heart, but your eyes never waver from the Emperor’s. It’s easiest to meet his gaze. He feels more like a human that way. 

There are flecks of gold in his dark eyes, and dark strands in his gold hair. He’s got stubble on his long neck, spots on his broad nose, and wrinkles on his forehead. Not quite as perfect as the pristine white-gold armor would let on.

His eyes flit down your form once more. Something sparks in the deep brown of them, a flicker of silent realization. He spins suddenly on the heel of his sandal to flash Marcus an accusatory glare.

“Is she your whore, General?” he lilts into the heavy silence. His brows raise when he receives no answer from the man across the room. “The question was not rhetorical, Acacius.”

“No, your majesty. She is not mine,” Marcus answers, then clears his throat when the words get stuck there. It’s like he’s plunging a knife through his own heart. He can feel the cold sting of the sharpened blade and the burn of the blood on his skin. “Though, I don’t believe whores belong to anyone.”

A boyish chuckle spills from the Emperor’s mouth. “No. They don’t,” he says with an airy giddiness. “Not before now, anyway—”

Geta spins back again, pleated skirt fanning around his pale thighs. His smile fades with an eerie swiftness. “What are you waiting for? Undress,” he commands with a wave of his ringed hand.

Your wide eyes flit instinctively past him to Marcus, who still idles in the doorway. Only then does he realize how long he’s been staring at you. He forces himself to glance off in another direction, but his gaze keeps finding yours — like a magnet, or a planet with its own gravitational pull.

Your eyes lock, and the only thing you hear is each other, though neither of you has spoken a word. This is the only way, you hear his voice in your head as clearly as your own. This is the only way to stay together. The only way to survive.

Geta mistakes your fear.

“Don’t worry about him, little dove,” he coos, and taps the bottom of your chin with his fingers — as soft and petaled as your own. He smiles when your attention turns to him again, speaking loud enough for the General to hear. “He’s only the guard dog. And good boys get scraps, don’t they, Acacius?”

Marcus’ face screws like he’s tasted something sour. He’s grateful the Emperor isn’t looking at him to see it. “They do, your majesty,” he monotones.

“So you will watch. And report to my uncle how his lovely present fared,” he calls to the older man, though his eyes remain locked with yours. You tense when his pale hand reaches suddenly for your face. He holds your cheeks in his fingers until your lips jut in a soft pout. “Let’s hope I don’t have to send him back your head, little dove.”

He says it with an absentminded effortlessness, as though it’s something he’s done before. 

Still, you manage a small smile and blink up at him with innocent eyes. “What good is a dead whore, your majesty?” you quip.

Geta’s grin widens.  “Precisely. Now undress.”

You reach for the singular sleeve of your slip with trembling fingers. Your right hand sweeps across your left shoulder, skin blazing with fear and anticipation. The fabric trails down down down your arm before falling to your feet in a puddle of milky white silk. Your bare body glows silver and gold between moonlight and flame. 

Goosebumps pebble over your skin despite the humid summer night as Geta circles you like prey. His eyes trail slowly down your form in time with his rhythmic steps. The sound of his sandals scrapping the stone floor, crackling candlelight, and subdued breathing are the only sounds in the quiet room for several long moments.

The Emperor disappears behind you, and you forget how to breathe. Your wide, wet eyes find Marcus once more — pleading, though for what, you cannot say. His face reveals nothing but wrath burns in his gaze.

Geta reappears at your right side. You smell grape wine on his breath when he nears you, breathing heavily through his mouth as he reaches out to touch you. His ringed hands smooth over your collarbone. Your breath catches in your throat. He smiles as though your fright pleases him.

“You’re skittish for a whore,” he muses, playful in a way that makes your stomach wrench. “Are you sure the General didn’t bring me a virgin?”

You swallow hard as his hand trails down your body. Over the swell of your breast, skimming his thumb over your taut nipple, before tracing the expanse of your ribs. His fingers run down your stomach and past the thatch of hair between your legs. They dip finally between your thighs. 

Geta hums a faint moan at the velvet feeling of your pussy. The way your lips part for his fingers, silky skin warm and wet to the touch. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be, your majesty,” you answer, breathing hard through your nose when he pulls his hand away — a warmth you find yourself begrudgingly grieving.

“I need only ask…” the Emperor coos, running his middle and pointer finger over your bottom lip. They shine with the honey you leak despite yourself. Your mouth parts, and he rests the pads of them on your tongue. “…Do I not?”

You nod wordlessly through the salty fingers in your mouth, trying to imagine their Marcus’.

Geta smiles when he parts from you. “Undress me,” he demands. 

You work at his tricky armor with nervous hands and bated breath. 

You unclasp his cape first. The white fabric, now free from its chain, falls heavily to the floor behind him. Your fingers have gone noticeably clammy as they struggle with the sleeves of his tunic. It takes you a beat too long to loosen the laces at his shoulders. The cloth falls finally and puddles around his feet, leaving his lean body on display before you.

His torso is lean and mostly hairless, save for splotches of chestnut on his sternum and stomach. His skin is smooth and flushed from the alcohol. His stomach is slim but noticeably full. The Emperor is well-taken care of, though his subjects outside the keep suffer from the consequences of war.

Your trembling fingers curl around the hem of his loincloth. His pale skin is warm to the touch, boiling with desire while you freeze over with fear. You crouch before him as you drag the garment down his scruffy thighs. You hear Geta sigh above you when his half-hard cock meets the cool summer night air. 

He’s paler there compared to the rest of his golden body, though the mushroom tip glows a faint strawberry-red color. A vein trails in jagged lines to the base of his heavy cock, fading as it reaches the thatch of dark blonde hair at his pubic bone. He’s not nearly as thick as Marcus, though not many people could hope to be — but he is long and thin and soft like velvet.

“How do I look?” Geta wonders as he steps out of his loincloth. He tilts his chin to his chest to peer down at you, on your knees to untie the intricate laces of his sandals. You blink up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Without my armor,” he adds, then repeats. “How do I look?”

You realize, then, that he wants your praise. Though you’re unsure why, you’re not in any position to deny him of it. “You’re a— a very handsome man, your majesty,” you respond cautiously, with a wavering smile.

You hear his breath catch at the compliment. The corner of his mouth flickers upward, and his nostril flares as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Well, go on, then,” he insists suddenly, nodding his head to egg you onward. “Good whores don’t keep their masters waiting, do they? You don’t want to see me impatient, little dove.”

You wrap his stiff cock in a tentative fist, averting your gaze as you give an experimental kitten lick to the bulbous, strawberry tip. Your tongue swipes away the pearlescent pre-cum beading there. The salty tang is foreign on your tongue, sweeter and thicker than you’re used to.

You imagine your lover when you take the Emperor’s cock in your mouth. A practiced form of dissociation that comes naturally to you now. 

You focus on the way the stone floor digs into your knees as you cup his balls in your hand — a desperate attempt to finish him quickly. Geta shudders when you swallow him whole, burying your nose in the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock. His head tips back as he groans at the ceiling.

“You are a proper whore…” the Emperor moans with a delirious smile. He tilts his flushed cheek to his freckled shoulder to sneer at Marcus, then frowns when his eyes meet the back of him. “Are you distracted, General?”

The man keeps his back turned and his eyes trained on the wall, counting the bricks there to distract his racing mind. His mouth snarls at the Emperor’s words. His hands ball into fists as he fights to keep his composure.

“Just giving you your privacy, your majesty.”

“Nonsense!” Geta laughs, loud. “You should watch! You should observe�� so you know what to tell my uncle.”

Marcus can hear the mischievous lilt in the younger boy’s voice. Like it’s all just a game to him. Like you’re just a whore to be played with, and like Marcus’ only hope of companionship is warfare. Both might’ve been true once, but not since you find each other.

The general smacks his lips against his teeth. “As you wish,” he deadpans and spins on the heel of his sandal.

He’s strangely grateful to find the Emperor’s body obscuring your own. Geta’s lean, pale form towers over your kneeling one — back muscles flexing, hips thrusting, fingers knitting in your hair.

But Marcus can still hear the sounds of your mouth on the other man’s cock. The room fills with heavy breathing, wet noises, and the Emperor’s unabashed whines. Embers of envy burn in the General’s empty chest. A wildfire of want and wrath rages behind his ribcage.

You swallow with Geta’s cock in your throat and squeeze softly at his balls. You hear his breath hitch just before a lengthy moan spills from his parted mouth. Several loads of salty cum spit down your throat a second later. The man shows you little mercy as he holds you by your hair, keeping your nose pressed to his pubic bone. You take shallow breaths through your nose and try not to choke.

You pull off of him when he lets you go. A string of saliva threatens to keep you connected. You take a deep breath in and swipe at your swollen mouth with the back of your hand, staying on your knees while the Emperor tilts his head back. He exhales a breathy laugh of relief at the ceiling. You peer up at him with wide, wet eyes, still so uncertain of your fate.

“Proper whore, indeed,” Geta muses, almost to himself, as he drops his heavy head once more. 

His flushed chest sparkles with a foreign feeling at the sight of you beneath him — eyes teary and fearful, lips swollen and rosy, features flushed with sweat and sex. His cock jerks, still sensitive but threatening to harden again. He grips himself with a loose fist.

“On the bed,” he instructs suddenly, then grins madly at your shock. “You didn’t think I was done with you, surely. Not until I mount you like a mare, anyway— Treat you like the bitch in heat you are…”

Geta cups your warm cheek in his free hand. His touch is strangely gentle as he cradles you there, right before he smacks gently at your jaw to urge you upward. 

Your bare feet pad towards the bed, then. Geta swats your ass as you go and laughs when you squeak in response. You fight the urge to look at Marcus, lest you see the rage burning in his eyes — lest he see the heartbreak swimming in yours. 

Marcus watches you crawl over the silken sheets, both of you sporting similar far-off gazes. He feels a bit like a ghost now. An empty, invisible thing, doomed to watch the rest of the world go on without ever being able to live in it. It’s dreadfully symbolic of how he’s lived most of his life, and how he’s spent the years loving you. Because even if a ghost is full of love, the only thing it knows to do is haunt.

The silk pillow feels cool under your burning cheek. The mattress dips under the Emperor’s weight when he kneels behind you. His ringed fingers smooth over your ass and down the arch of your back. He treats you with an uncharacteristic sort of tenderness, as though he were molding you out of clay.

“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he whispers under his breath. “And timid, too… I like that…” 

Your pussy clenches at his words despite yourself. Geta’s chest swells with pride accordingly. “You don’t have to be scared, little dove. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Despite his words, he does not bother to ready you for his cock when he positions himself at your pulsing entrance. You hadn’t expected him to, of course — not many men were as kind as Marcus in that way, who often treated your pleasure as if it were his own. But the slick sticking to your thighs has made your pussy more than pliant. Your velvet walls swallow Geta’s cock with a pulsing vigor.

The Emperor groans as he fucks into you, savoring every inch as he buries himself to the hilt. His ringed fingers dig into the plush of your waist, as though you were a toy he didn’t want getting snatched away.

“Look at the hound!” Geta giggles boyishly to himself. “He’s itching for a feel of you— I just know it.”

Marcus remains as still and stoic as the battalion trained him to be. He reveals nothing on his face, though his skin prickles with flames of envy beneath his armor. 

Marcus Acacius was not a jealous man. His love for you was a testament to that. He visited the brothel you boarded in and spared the same coins as every man in the establishment did. But it was different now. Because the Emperor does not deserve you, and he forces Marcus to watch as if he knows it, too.

Something within him seethes, like a feral animal trapped behind his ribcage, desperately clawing its way out.

“Look at him,” Geta snaps when he sees you staring at the wall, eyes glassy and glazed over. He’s grinning all over again when your gaze snaps to Marcus’. 

The soldier’s weathered eyes burn with tears then. General Acacius has faced death a thousand times over, but it wasn’t quite as heartwrenching as this. His wrath simmers to a boil. He swallows it down like fire.

This is her salvation, he tells himself. This is how she survives.

Your features twist with the anguish of being seen as the Emperor lays himself over your back. His slick chest sits flush with your spine, pinning you to the mattress. “I bet he can taste you now. Smell you,” he murmurs in your ear, chapped mouth brushing the shell of it. “His mouth is salivating at the thought of putting his tongue on you— Isn’t it, dog?”

Marcus swallows through the emotion threatening to strangle him. He blinks away stinging tears and feigns an air of nonchalance. “It would be… impolite to talk so brashly about something that doesn’t belong to me, your majesty,” the General responds. Obedient. Loyal like a hound.

Geta grins wide. “Good answer, Acacius.”

When the Emperor finally fucks into you, it’s with a sloppy sort of precision. There is no rhythm or care to his thrusts. He is led only by his blinding pleasure, like a man who has only ever fucked playthings and his own fist. He props himself on one forearm and curls the other beneath you, holding your breast in his ringed hand.

Geta’s flushed cheek presses against your own while he slides in and out and into you again. You hear his groaning as you feel it rumbling in his chest, still laid against your back. You stare at a framed portrait on the wall across the room and wait for it to be over, even as your body refuses to dismiss its simmering orgasm.

Your swollen clit ruts against the silk sheets with each of the Emperor’s sloppy thrusts. You can feel a wet spot forming beneath you, and your stomach twists at the thought of seeing proof of your own pleasure. 

His balls smack your leaking cunt, creating a symphony of lewd noises — moaning, whimpering, clapping, smacking. Marcus thinks the sounds of war were more merciful than this.

“Do you understand what that means, little dove?” Geta croons into your ear, words choppy through his labored breaths and irregular thrusts. “You belong— to me now… So whatever you used to be— whoever’s you used to be— no longer matters.”

He thrusts once, hard, and shudders above you with a choked-back groan. You grit your teeth to swallow down your own noises of pleasure. The assault on your clit, though unintentional, is still yet relentless. You feel the distant white-hot burning feeling begin to swell in the pit of your stomach. A coil about to snap.

“Fucking me— Making me feel good—” the Emperor pants, punctuated by his hips against your ass. “—Is your only duty now. Understand?”

You nod, cheek running over the silk cushion as you grip it in your fists. “Yes, your majesty,” you gasp.

Geta presses his smile to the apple of your cheek. He can feel you leaking around him. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is, to be sure. A proper whore, indeed.

“Now… Take my spend like a good bitch, and thank me for it—”

He fucks you harder, and your face twists with a pleasure you’re too weak to fight away. 

Your gaze falls instinctively to Marcus as your orgasm threatens to swallow you whole. Your eyes squeeze shut in a feeble attempt to hide. Your mouth parts with a silent moan as you cum around the Emperor’s cock.

“Thank you, your majesty,” you whimper obediently into the pillow as you tremble beneath him. “Thank you.”

Geta buries a whine in your neck when he cums again. He gives you only two pitiful, warm loads but still possesses more stamina than your Marcus. He stills, then shudders, then rests his unforgiving bodyweight on top of you when pleasure makes a puddle of him. And of you, you assume, as a mixture of your spend leaks out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Write to my uncle, Acacius—” Geta slurs into your skin, heavy through labored pants. “—A thank you for my nameday present.”

Marcus forgets, until then, that he can still be seen. He felt more akin to a corpse hidden in the walls, forced to spend his afterlife in a merciless purgatory. His heart has stopped beating, frozen over, and now sits dead in his chest. He will never be as gentle as he was with you. He will be bloodied knuckles and pulsing wounds. Rough and cruel and angry.

“Yes, your majesty,” the General nods, thankful that it’s over now.

Geta rolls off of your body and onto the empty spot beside you — not shy about his nude form or yours. The sudden lack of warmth makes you shiver. 

“And tell him to send another— To keep the General’s bed warm, too,” he says, patting your ass with his palm before smoothing tenderly over the skin. “One whore’s as good as any other, I’m sure.”

Marcus flinches at the thought of being with anyone other than you. He couldn’t hide the look of disgust if he tried. It makes the Emperor laugh loudly in response.

“Oh, did you— Did you want to try this one?” Geta muses knowingly, pointing to your limp body, still trembling beside him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“No. No, no, no— See, this one’s mine,” he corrects the General as if he were a child. “And it would be impolite to touch something that belongs to me, would it not? It would be treasonous, even.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Marcus nods, lip flickering in a mere hint of a smirk as his plan finally comes to fruition. “It would be.”

The Emperor sees you now as his property, and no one hurts what belongs to him without meeting a certain death. Marcus is comforted only by the thought that nothing can touch you now. Not even him. But perhaps that’s the price he pays for love. Perhaps, in the end, love is grief.

“So best tread lightly, Acacius,” Geta warns with a crooked smile, petting you like a dog. “I’d hate for someone to get hurt.”

[no-144444]

cherry kisses- l.norris

summary: all's fair in love and fake relationships, yet Lando Norris somehow still finds a way to play dirty

pairing: fakeboyfriend! lando norris x fem! fakegirlfriend! actress! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Falling for Lando Norris was a disaster waiting to happen, and one you chose to avoid. On paper, you two were the perfect power couple, your instagram pages meticulously curated with a snippet of each other in every post, perfectly planned paparazzi picture of you kissing outside pubs or bars or award shows, engagement rumours every few months- rumours that weren’t helped by Lando constantly choosing to get himself a new watch or piece of jewellery a week before you were seen together.

But in the real world, you two were simply business ventures to the other. Entirely uninterested in each other's lives unless it pertained to the contract. He came to support you at award shows or showed up on set to snap some photos, and you went to races to support him. 

Nothing else. No need for it in your life anyway. No room for silly boys, and Lando Norris was the silliest of all boys. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“You look pretty,” he smirked from across the room. He had the damn smirk that he always thought would make you break, but it never did. 

“Thank you,” you smiled pleasantly, the image of a perfectly PR-trained celebrity. You really did wonder what they taught F1 drivers about PR, and then you realised it was probably just Lando enjoying breaking the rules. 

“What’s the occasion?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you. You two were bound for a Ralph Lauren event. Lucky you! 

“Have to look good for my boyfriend, don’t I?” you faked a bright smile, which made him laugh, and you rolled your eyes. You pushed his arms off of you and took another sip of your tea.

“So I’m officially your boyfriend now?” he teased. 

You sighed, exasperated. “That’s what it says in the contract, doesn’t it?” You watched as his smirk fell for a split second, almost… upset? Hardly. He didn’t care, and neither did you.  “And anyway, I was talking about Keegan.” 

He giggled behind you in the mirror. You looked up and met his eyes with an awkward smile, and you felt his hand rest on your hip. 

And you felt it. You felt the burn of your skin under his touch. You felt the way his breathing was much too quick for someone calm. You felt the way he was cautiously wanting more. 

“We’re a pretty good-looking couple when you think about it,” he spoke slowly, but that same playfulness laced his tone. “Keegan’s too short for you.”

You scoffed, laughing. “Alright 5’9. Christ,” you chuckled, breaking away from him. “Alright, I have everything, ready?” 

He stared at you for a moment, then turned towards the door of his hotel room with a smirk. He opened it, waiting for you to walk through. What a-. “Always ready, Sugar.” 

That damned nickname, you thought, It was one time. You walked through the door with your head held high, then grabbed his hand when you got to the foyer. 

It was going to be a long day. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He watched as you made your way around the room, dutifully greeting those who needed greeting, introducing yourself to people you had to, and generally being your perfect self. It was annoying, you annoyed him. But there was one thing he liked above all else, which was annoying you, which he seemed to be pretty spectacular at. 

“You keep staring,” Keegan leaned in. “You do realise she’s not your actual girlfriend, right?” he chuckled, and Lando joined in, but he couldn’t help but feel the tightness in his chest worsen when he saw one of your old cast mates put his hand on your shoulder. 

He frowned at the scene in front of him, then brushed it off. He knew you’d never do anything to fuck up the contract. While yes, he technically got more professional benefit from it (exposure, more fans, etc.), you got more personal benefits (aka, money), and you wanted to fully fund your directorial debut, so you needed all the cash you could get. “I know,” he chuckled. “It’d look weird if I wasn’t looking at her though,” he explained as he took another sip of his milkshake. “She’s supposed to be my one and only true love, after all.” 

Keegan scoffed. “Tell that to the girls in Miami.”

The guilt in Lando’s gut twisted, making his last sip go down funny. Miami was a mistake, one he hadn’t told you about, but a mistake all the same. “Shut up man-”

“Keegan!” you smiled, wrapping him up in one of your hugs. He hugged you right back, just as tight. Lando frowned. You turned to him. “Hey baby,” you smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, which he accepted gratefully by pulling you into his side. 

“Hey Sugar,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 

“Where does that come from?” Keegan asked. You slapped a hand over Lando’s smirking mouth before he could explain.

“Don’t ask,” you scoffed, dropping your hand when he licked it. “You’re a child, y’know that?” 

“How was Jer?” he asked, his eyes levelling you. Was he seriously jealous here? Was he jealous of you and Jeremy? 

“He was great. Was wondering where you were, actually,” you answered through gritted teeth. 

“Maybe I’ll see him before the end of the night,” he shrugged, but he was anything but calm. “Go say hi.” 

“You should,” you nodded, taking a sip of his milkshake. “He’d love to see you.” 

Keegan stared at the two of you with a confused expression, then ultimately decided to slowly back away as you two played 5D chess with your words. 

“Taste this,” Lando offered out a cherry from the top of his milkshake, a wicked plan forming in his head. “I know how much you love cherries.” 

You did, in fact, love cherries. Despite your reason to doubt him, Lando would never do anything to break the contract, you knew that. You leaned in to catch the cherry in your mouth, noticing the camera on you two. He pulled it out of your reach until he captured your lips with his own in a gross, open-mouthed kiss. 

The kind that sets your entire body on fire. The kind you leaned in to. The kind that made his other hand circle your waist and distract you enough so that he could slip it further down. The kind that made him feel completely and utterly fucked for you. 

You both pulled back, just staring at each other, until you finally bit the cherry, and turned back to the party, knowing that clip would be all over social media by the next day. You huffed and plastered your best fake smile back on your face, and Lando was left feeling distraught by the counter. 

Like you said, long night. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[taintedtort]

" #NEEDTHAT! "

summary. how long they last during NNN

characters. kenma, akaashi, iwaizumi, kyotani, nishinoya

warnings. afab!reader, post!timeskip, SMUT!!!

a/n. my yearly NNN prompt, but with hq this time (and it’s december)

☆ — KENMA: a week and a half

he tried, though only because you asked. his stamina and libido aren’t too high, so he didn’t have much issue at first. however… you started purposely teasing him after a week; wearing short shorts, wearing tight shirts, or just prancing around in your panties. he wasn’t too interested in beating the challenge, so he doesn’t really attempt to deny himself. it’s too much of a hassle, especially with the way you’re practically begging to be fucked. so he does just that. lays you on the bed, and takes a bit of time fingering you open and making you cum on his fingers first, just because he can. it’s such a power trip, seeing you fall apart all thanks to him, he can’t help but fuck you silly after that. getting you to cum is better than beating a stupid little challenge.

"don’t be surprised, you’re the one teasing me."

☆ — AKAASHI: he distracted you!

similar to kenma, he isn’t too interested in actually winning, or even participating in general. he isn’t worried about himself, he’s more concerned about you not being satisfied for the entire month. what is he if he can’t please his woman? his fingers alone aren’t enough for your greedy little pussy, he knows that. it’s that argument that he uses when he’s trying to refuse the challenge, cooing about how much he knows you’ll miss him inside you. just think about it, love, is something like that even worth it? ends with you sprawled out under him with his cock shoved inside you, scrambling your brain and making you forget about the conversation.

"how will i please you if i can’t fuck you? don’t deny yourself pleasure just for a silly challenge."

☆ — IWAIZUMI: two weeks

only lasted that long out of sheer will. he practically lives in your pussy. he wakes up with gentle morning sex, and sends you to bed by fucking your brains out until you’re all sleepy and pliant. it’s a routine at this point, something you decided to interrupt just because you saw the stupid challenge online and got curious. you just wanted to see how long he could last! you didn’t expect him to come home all frustrated because he’s been thinking about your little cunt wrapped around him all day. you whined when he bent you over the couch, but he didn’t let you complain too much before he’s stuffing you full.

"bet you missed this too, didn’t you? nasty girl."

☆ — KYOTANI: a week

he didn’t even want to do it in the first place, he only agreed so you’d shut up about it. he was pretty sure you’d end up crawling back to him anyway, since you really can’t go that long without his cock inside you. you’re spoiled, after all. after about a week, he can tell you’re getting whiny, so he decides to throw in the towel and give you what you need. you tease him, of course, so he decides to stuff your mouth first. he ignores your furrowed brows and cute pout when he forces you to your knees.

"bratty girls get their throats fucked first, or did you forget?"

☆ — NISHINOYA: four days

he's confident at first, but then he remembers that nearly everything you do turns him on. knowing that he isn’t allowed to cum makes it worse somehow, and he forgets about the challenge most of the time. you have to cheekily remind him, only for him to groan and have to excuse himself to calm down his boner. he really wants to win, just to say that he did, but he knows he won’t be able to hold out. it’s almost pathetic how quickly he comes back to you, begging about 'just the tip'. he ends up fucking you like a rabid animal, nearly drooling over how good you feel.

"no no— i won’t cum… promise." (he did)

hi! thanks for reading :)

rules+masterlist

[monstersholygrail]

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who’s always on time each month to give you your allowance and your days off from work. Except he has a rule where he has to give it to you in person, knowing you’ll run late (he’s purposefully vague on the meet-up time) and so you’ll have to make it up to him and earn the gifts he’s so generously giving you.

He watches you with rapt attention as you bounce on his cock, your pretty plush body moving with every hard smack of your bodies meeting. His hands caress you roughly, taking their pleasure, yet make no move to help you ride him. You can feel him so deep inside you, you can barely stay upright. But your allowance is just next to him and with every twitch of his cock he slides over another hundred. “Go on, be good for me. Know you’ve been wanting to go on that trip. Let me give it to you, baby.” And suddenly you’re riding him even faster, working you both into a fierce climax, wanting those paid days off so badly.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who agrees to take you on shopping sprees whenever your cute self desires. But only on that condition that he gets to personally choose all your lingerie.

He no doubt always walks in with you into the dressing rooms. Watching you undress and dress up in outfit after outfit till he’s nearly shaking. It gets so bad that by the time you get to the lingerie shop he’s snapping before you can try anything on and he’s taking you hard against the wall, slamming quickly into your hot core. Letting out low huffs, his tail whipping around in agitation as he ruts up into you. “You better wear that red number t’morrow at work. Won’t be able to keep my hands off of ya.” Just the thought has him pumping himself into you even harder until he’s got you squirting all over the lingerie he was already planning to buy you.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who doesn’t want anything serious but gets jealous when you bring up going on a date later tonight after work.

He cant help but drop your butt on top of your desk, stopping you from thinking about someone who isn’t him for a second longer. He’s bunching up your tight skirt in a flash and sinking his length all the way down to the hilt. He throws his head back, releasing a long groan as your warmth wraps around him so snugly. “Y’know I think you’re gonna have to work some overtime t’night, love. That alright with you?” And he starts fucking up into you, leaving you only able to respond with a weak moan. He won’t stop till you’re boneless, brainless, and with only his name on your lips.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who knows your limits and relishes in pushing them till you’re so close to breaking. So he frequently makes deals with you, paying you a grand for each orgasm you give him while staying awake.

He gives your cheek a nice love tap, forcing your eyes to flutter open. A whiny mewl falls past your lips, body jerking with each brutal thrust as Minotaur Boss just keeps going. His cock never softening inside you no matter how much either of you cum. “Wakey, wakey, sweetheart. Gimme one more orgasm and you’ll be able to afford that pretty dress I saw you got ‘ur eye on.” Choked whimpers leave you as his cock brutally grinds against your cervix in a way that has your toes curling and your body shaking. Your orgasm sneaking up and blowing through you so intensely you nearly black out.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who pays for your phone after seeing the older model you have just so he can always know where you are when he sends you out in work-related errands. He also can’t deny the burst of pleasure he gets every time he sees you use it. Knowing it was him that provided it for you.

He often misuses the gift though, not that you have any issue with it. His husky voice crackling into your ear through the phone as he works you through another release. Fuck, you’ve had so many you’ve started losing count. But he just doesn’t stop talking, babbling on about anything and everything. Your damn work schedule tomorrow, the taunting idea of raising your allowance, and all the things he’s gonna get for you. “Be ready to thank me next we see each other. Might surprise ya with some new panties I can rip off or a new lip glass that’ll look so good wrapped nicely around my cock.” He ignores your whimpers, urging you on and on with his words until you’re crying out into the speaker and gushing all over your fingers.

[sh1-n0bu]

so,,,, despite being a monsterfucker for a while, i never really got the love for yautjas. until i was forced to watch killer of killers due to the rampage going on my feed and uhhhhh im pretty sure there are at least a handful of monsterfuckers out there who wants to top/dom a yautja like myself. also this isnt much of a fic. its just a sudden little thought i had after going thru the rule 34s tag of yautjas. no yautja in particular, take it as you will, imagine whoever you like. i dont know anything about yautjas or how this all works. im just horny and freeballing it. feel free to correct me

so… yautjas huh? what an alien species and mind you, this is my first impression of these guys. despite the majority of the killer or killers tags thirsting over the warlord — as we all should — i found myself liking the viking predator a lot. the goons are cute too. the three predators of the movie parts even have names too. jotun, oni and baron in the order they appear. of course, the guy in the pic above, the last one everyone is thirsting over, is warlord predator, also called ‘Grendel King’ by one of the characters

anyways, enough geeking over the yautjas of the movie, time to move on to my actual brainworms

yautjas are alien species and just as they are humanoid, some parts of them are indeed humanoid. and some parts, not so much. i have seen a decent amount of yautja smuts on the yautja tag — haven’t read them yet bc i prefer to be the one to fuck rather than get fucked — but one headcanon answer had me thinking multiple things

yautjas — male, female doesn’t matter — have two dicks and a vagina as well as an asshole. bigenital, if you will. every yautja can therefore sire their young, but the female yautjas tend to sire them and grow them in their bellies due to their stomach having more padded muscles, serving as a protective meat shield for the babies. the male yautjas carry them as well, but it’s more common to see the females carry them

i can’t find the author but one author here on tumblr had given their thought that yautjas never knew about blowjobs and lemme add to that — fingering as well. look at their mouths and hands, full of claws, fangs, mandibles and shit. truly a creature meant for hunting and killing rather than feeling fleshly pleasure. yautjas don’t really care about it either, they’re more of an animal mating ritual type of pleasure seekers. find a yautja who shakes your fancy, court them, knot them full and have a few strong, next generation of young’ins. simple and straight to the point like an animal mating ritual. no need for foreplay, fighting and wrestling to see who will knot who is a foreplay enough for their species

blowjobs? never, unless one is trying to bite off the dick of the other one. their mandibles stretch and open, sure. but they will never stretch big enough to take the other’s dick into their mouths. even if they do manage to painfully keep their mandibles open at all times, their fangs and canine sharp teeth will lead to bleeding and injuries soon enough. so even if their two dicks are weeping at the tip, untouched, and their pussy is glistening wet, the easiest way to just get it done with is to fuck their cocks into the other’s folds. it’ll be full of yowls, cracks, chirps and even growls because i personally like to think that the yautjas have a ribbed dick with a spliced tip. not that their tips could open up like their mandibles, but it definitely gives odd sensations. add the constant bumping and ribbing feeling of the scales and folds of their cock and the mating session between yautjas are usually always loud

so what happens when a ‘ooman is thrown into the mix? a great fighter, a blooded one who has been marked by one of their kin (like lex in avp), a recurring champion from the gladiatorial combat? yautjas are impressed, respectful and some are even vying after your attention on the few occasions you’re allowed awake from the cryo sleep and wandering around the strange, deserted, hot world of theirs. their kin usually has a bias against ’oomans due to their race being resourceful and cunning. they’re just as smart as the yautjas, if not, even more. able to use whatever is around them for survival and able to keep going even after multiple injuries (bc adrenaline). they’re an annoying species and yautjas tend to stay away. a little bit less with you, though. they want to be in the presence of the undefeated champion of the gladiatorial combat, size you up and see if you are truly worth the heavy title you bear upon your meager ‘ooman shoulders

maybe one thing would lead to another or one had gotten interested in your strengths in the bedroom as well and that leads to a yautja receiving their first head and fingering. the moment you drop them to the ground and settle between their legs, the yautja is tempted to wrestle. it is a foreplay between their kin after all. but no, he was dealing with a ‘ooman right now and as excited he was about getting to the fucking, he was also curious. how do ‘oomans show affection? how do they mate? how do they carry their young? so many questions, so little time

they would stay down and obedient, an occasional curious thrills and crackles leaving their throat as their mandibles click and clack softly. mutually curious as well, you finally manage to take off their intricate and annoying loincloth like thing, dropping it to the ground. and the hum that escapes you is equally returned by the yautja as they watch, the soft clicking of their ever moving mandibles filling the silent room. a slit like opening. two of them, even, with what you assume is an asshole underneath them. rubbing the back of your finger’s knuckle over the one on top, you hear the slight rumble from their chest like a purr, taking it as a good sign

the slit on top is bigger than the one underneath. they’re much more harder and covered with protective shells and scales as well, rather then the second one underneath that seems more softer and gummy like a vagina. messing with the scaled one, you watch with an ever growing interest as the slit opens more and more before a cockhead is pushed out, followed by a second cockhead which was a little bit smaller. so, the yautjas have both anatomies huh? like certain animals and how their two cocks are kept inside a protective slit like some reptiles and lizards’

it’s bumpy, it’s ribbed, it even has little round shaped ribs on its sides too. such curious beings, how alike they could be to your kin but also so different. of course, there was much needed poking, prodding and an eager snooping around. two large uniquely shaped cocks and a vaginal opening as well as an asshole. interesting

hearing the impatient hisses of the yautja, you merely grumble under your breath, hissing back at him with annoyance upon being cut short of your little experiment. what do yautjas even do for pleasure anyways? do they fuck like humans do? must be it, right? at least they had the anatomy for it

the moment you get down on them, head between their strong, tight thighs and restless shifting body, a sound like a warning growl was heard before it was swiftly replaced by some soft noises like the purring of a cat. yautjas don’t know what blowjobs and fingering meant after all, their bodies prevented from such types of pleasure. so when your soft, small ‘ooman mouth took in the head of the bigger cock, the warmth around it felt like the yautja was melting in the fiery chasms of the many volcanoes of the yautja prime. it was soft, it was hot and it felt good. way too good to the point the creature was growling, groaning and even letting out odd hitched noises that you guessed was the closest to a moan

and when you put their entire dick into your mouth — with much anticipated gagging, choking and the constant wild bucks into your open mouth — deep throating the bigger cock while gently stroking their smaller cock using the slimy substance the tip oozed, the yautja has basically experienced heaven. the urge to just let go of ‘honor’ and ‘instincts’ and knot inside your warm, tight throat was strong. a deep, gurgly sound escaping them as their mandibles shook all over, unknowing of what to do when your free hand slipped further down and pushing your finger into their softer slit

if you thought the yautja was loud before, they were even louder now. constant, short little noises leaving them, rattling their huge body and even causing you to shake alongside as well. strong legs kicking and clawed hands tearing off the poor floor into shreds. it was a good feeling, the very best, even more than having a clan leader recognize them or hunting down the most honorable prey. ‘oomans’ hands and mouth felt good, they were amazing at fleshly pleasures and had the yautja acted on their interest in you a little bit earlier, they would have. they honestly should have because whatever you were doing to his poor life time long neglected dicks and gushing pussy were making the yautja feel odd. so so very odd. a tight coiling in their stomach, and they for a moment, thought you infected them with something

and then, the tight coils of his stomach is gone within a moment. a loud roar leaving the beast as their body went rigid like a spring, dreadlocks slipping into the floor in a heap as their legs even gave a little tremble. the tip lodged inside your throat twitched and shook, a thick substance filling up your mouth before you could pull it off, causing you to hack and cough out the strange liquid. it didn’t take long until their smaller dick was following along, spilling a smaller load into your jaws and chest, second slit tightening around your fingers as a soft, more thinner liquid like the one from his bigger cock coat your palm. all because your little ‘ooman fingers delved inside their cunt a bit further and seemed to have found a soft spot, loud roars and short breathy growls being switched to little cat like yowls. so, they were just as sensitive as humans, huh?

safe to say, the rumor of ‘oomans being extremely amazing at fleshly pleasures spread across yautja prime swiftly and before you know it, more and more yautjas are interested in a little endurance test with their longest reigning champion

[retrosabers]

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝.

FICMAS DAY 5 - UNWRAPPING

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

old man logan x fem!reader

summary: logan didn’t believe in exchanging christmas presents. so, you offer him something you know he can’t refuse. a night where’s he’s free to have you all to himself.

contains: 18+ content below the cut. MINORS DNI. making out, some dry humping if you squint, oral (fem receiving), implied age gap, a dash of angst, swearing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: you thought i’d let a whole season pass without a little taste of some festive smut? absolutely hilarious. this is my first time writing for old man logan, and i think i did pretty alright considering i have yet to watch the movie (i’m terrified of the pain it will bring)

any feedback is always greatly appreciated!

also, don’t be confused by the fact that this says day 5 when i still haven’t posted day 4, i’m writing these bad boys out of order

and finally, a huge shoutout & thanks to the wildly talented @pandapetals for agreeing to do a little collaboration! please go check out her blog and all of her amazing work! <3

FIND HER PART HERE

!! divider by @estrelinha-s !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

“are you sure your eyes are closed?”

logan grunts. “they’re closed, darlin’. promise.”

he’s been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes now, waiting for you to bring out this so-called “surprise.” from the ambient lighting and freshly washed bed sheets, the man thinks he’s got a general idea of what it is, but you’ve been fiddling in the bathroom too long for him to be certain.

still, he appeases you, and waits patiently at the foot of your bed. even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable on his knees.

meanwhile you’re fussing over every little detail of your appearance in the groggy bathroom mirror.

this was your solution to getting around logan’s “i don’t need anything for christmas” rule. you always begrudgingly abided by it, save for the box of cigars that always mysteriously turnt up in his nightstand on christmas eve. you knew he could never turn it down, no matter how much he tried.

logan could never say no to a smoke break with a nice pack of cubans. and he most certainly couldn’t say no to you.

that's how you decided upon this whole scheme. dolling yourself up and donning a new set of lingerie themed to the occasion, knowing logan had no leg to stand on. because technically, you didn’t buy anything for him. you bought this for you. he just so happened to be the person who was going to help take it off.

or rip it off, knowing your man’s track record of impatience and eagerness.

you share the exact same sentiment, though your tendency to be anile overpowers all else. you know it doesn’t matter if you have a hair or two out of place, or if your lips are slightly over lined. perfection never mattered to logan, but it still didn’t stop you from doing everything in your power to be pretty damn close to it tonight.

even if it meant making him wait a few extra minutes.

you pay your reflection one final glance before sauntering out into the bedroom.

he smells you before he hears you.

your scent wafting into the room captures his attention more than anything else. logan’s senses may not be as keen as they once were, but the fragrance of you was something utterly unmistakable. a sweet yet sultry aroma that he ached to have on his skin, his clothes, anywhere, to keep him grounded. to remind himself that you were real and you were his. it only adds to the anticipation building inside, the mere seconds he has to wait dragging on like hours in his mind.

a wave of lust overtakes you as logan comes into view. somehow just the sight of him is enough to send a bout of arousal down to your core.

that crisp white dress shirt he always wears is unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up to reveal those chiseled forearms you love to have wrapped around you. the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table illuminates the weathered curves of his face so beautifully. a contrast to the ruggedness of his position; legs lazily spread wide and long, thick fingers tapping mindlessly against his thigh.

the picture of a real man. and he’s all yours for the taking.

the sound of your footsteps padding against the floor grows louder. obediently, logan’s eyes stay shut, despite the fact that the other aroma you carry is hot and heavy in his nostrils. his upper lip twitches with a knowing smirk.

so this is exactly what he had in mind.

on instinct, his thighs spread even further when he senses your approach, hands itching to find their place on you somehow. when your own stay glued to your sides, he takes that as his cue to do the same.

logan really hates to admit it, but there’s something about this little bit of mystery that’s got him going before you’ve even begun.

“you ready?” your voice comes out breathy, and if logan didn’t know any better he’d think you’re nervous. and truth be told, you were. not that logan wouldn’t get his kicks, you were certain of that. more so that you’d be unable to walk come tomorrow morning.

though neither of you would consider it a bad thing

“yes ma’am,” he grumbles in response, knowing exactly the effect it has on you. the cockiness on his face is inevitable when he hears your breath hitch.

tease. if that’s how he wants to play, you’re in for a long night.

with a quiet sigh, you splay your fingers over the expanse of his broad shoulders. the man takes it as permission, calloused palms wrapping around your calves and not daring to travel any further. he knows he’ll lose any remaining self control if he gets so much as an inch closer to the apex of your thighs.

“okay.” you murmur. “you can open your eyes.”

slowly, those dark irises begin to drink you in. his grip on you tightens as soon as he gets the whole picture, a visible tent forming in his dress slacks almost immediately.

logan thought you were the most beautiful women he’s ever seen under any conditions. didn’t matter if you were sick, if you were bare faced, none of that changed how otherworldly you looked in his eyes. but nothing, and i mean nothing, compared to the sight of you before him right now.

you look like something out of a dream. hair styled in a way that drives him particularly crazy, makeup done to highlight your features so elegantly in the dim light. the best, and quite possibly logan’s favorite part, however, is that your lips are painted a shade of red to perfectly match the ensemble adorning your body. it sparks a slideshow of rather lewd images in his brain, wanting the color scattered across his cheek, his chest, his cock. anywhere you’re willing to brand him.

he’s committed every inch of you to memory by now. countless nights of exploring, mapping out your curves with hand and tongue. and still, everytime he sees you like this, practically offering yourself on a silver platter, he can’t help but stare back as though this is the very first time.

especially when that crimson silk is accentuating your figure so nicely.

“do you like it?” you ask coyly, bottom lip tucked between your teeth like you’re not fully aware of the power you have over him.

logan scoffs out a laugh, dragging his hands higher and higher until they tug at your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap in one swift motion. you squeak at the sudden display of strength, forgetting that despite his age, he was still infinitely stronger than any man you’ve ever met.

even beneath the layers of fabric between you, the sheer size of him was impossible to ignore. fuck, and he wasn’t even fully hard. you bite back a moan at the outline of his length pressed between your legs.

“that answer your question?” he quips back lowly, smirking smugly.

you hum in content, pressing your hands further into his shoulders as you experimentally grind your hips. the pair of you preen at the contact, desperate for any form of relief after being pent up and waiting.

“careful,” logan grits out in warning. “gonna cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager if you keep that up.”

you tsk in response, cocking your head with faux concern. “can’t have that, now can we?”

logan shakes his head at your antics, eyes wandering back over your body once more. before tonight, his favorite set of lingerie you owned was a black lacy number. simple and classic. but the more time he spends inspecting what’s currently adorning your frame, the more he thinks that red might be his new favorite color.

something warm spills over him when he glances at your chest again. something different than what he normally experiences every time he catches a glimpse of your cleavage, anyways.

“is that a bow?” he questions, a little bit amused.

you let out a soft giggle, nodding in reply.

“wanted you to be able to unwrap your present.”

you can count the amount of times logan has laughed, really truly laughed, on one hand. and as much as it sounds like music to your ears, you’re rather confused as to why he’s laughing right now.

“what’s so funny?” you huff, brows knit together and bottom lip jutted in a near pout.

logan averts your inquiry, burying his face in your neck so you can’t see him grinning like an idiot. instead, he busies himself with dragging his lips up and down the column of your throat, reveling in the breathy moans spilling from your lips with each and every press against your skin.

from the moment you met logan howlett, you fantasized about that salt and pepper beard. longed to feel the delicious sting of scruff against every part of you. as addicting as it is, the sensation isn’t enough to keep you completely distracted.

“logan,” you whine, titling your head back to grant him more access. “m’serious.”

he doesn’t halt his ministrations, too consumed with making sure your neck is painted every shade of lavender under the sun. he only stops when you rake your fingers in his hair and physically pull him off, much to both your dismays.

you give him a look. that pursed lips, narrow eyed “what aren’t you saying to me” look that signals he’s going to have to fess up to whatever’s on his mind, or else the evening would be coming to an end right here and now. from the way he’s about to burst through the zipper on his dress slacks, you know he’s not considering weighing options.

logan sighs heavily. if you didn’t know all the variations of the sound, you’d think he was upset with you. but that was far from how the older man felt. he begins to examine your face, observing everything from the slopes of your bone structure, to the color of your irises. he studies your features like an artisan in a gallery, content on not missing a single detail.

after a moment, the corners of his mouth turn up a hair. eyes almost dopey; filled with a lovesickness he never thought could be possible.

“you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” he murmurs into the air, rough fingertips tracing back and forth across your spine.

you speak the language of logan fluently, knowing exactly what the underlying message of his words were. in reality, he was saying, “what did i do in this life to deserve you? will you ever know how much i love you? i hope you’ll be mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

suddenly his round of laughter from before rings brighter in your ears.

instead of saying another word, you guide his face to yours, connecting your lips in a silent understanding.

logan always kisses you like a man starved, devouring you whole as though every kiss may be the last. there was nothing tame, or tender about the man they once called the wolverine, but you managed to slip between the cracks of his stony disposition, and bring forth all the parts of himself he swore he lost decades ago.

your hands encircle around the back of his neck, logan’s squeezing at the flesh of your hips. he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing the swell of your chest against his own. the feeling of your nipples pebbling through velvet fabric reminds him of the true nature of your current situation.

tonight was for him. his pleasure, his enjoyment. he knew you’d be heavily dissatisfied if he didn’t indulge in what you were offering.

and what kind of man would logan be, if he disappointed his sweet girl?

you’re not expecting him to be so gentle when he turns and flips you over, mouth never once leaving yours. a large hand spread across your back as he lowers you down onto the mattress with a care reserved for you and only you. a fact that adds to your current state of arousal. your legs open like second nature, and logan slots himself between them as though that’s where he was always meant to be.

the whine that leaves you when he pulls away would be embarrassing if it weren’t for the hunger in his stare. those normally hazel pupils now a brownish black that overshadowed bright white. he sits back on his haunches, glazing over your pretty little lingerie with a newfound appreciation.

he reaches to toy with the end of the bow tied snugly between your breasts, a teasing invitation that he graciously accepts.

at a tantalizing pace, he begins to unwrap his present, watching with lustful eyes as more and more skin becomes exposed. you arch your back the slightest bit to get the job done faster, the shoe of impatience now snug on your foot instead of his.

normally, logan would scold, spit something about “being a good girl and waiting.” but he’s just as riled up and eager as you are, and he gives the velvet one final tug that has your breasts springing free.

god you were absolute perfection.

he can’t resist running a thumb over your erect nipples, reveling in the way you squirm over such a small touch. your color coated lips swollen and shiny from his kisses. body already relaxed and pliant, willing to do whatever he so pleases.

a few minutes ago, he would’ve torn your outfit off without second thought and shown no mercy. let the shitty week he was having take control, guide him through the motions of achieving pleasure. but something inside logan urges him to be a little sentimental; take his sweet time on the off chance that he wakes up and discovers this was all a dream.

so he decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

the path down to your core was a familiar one, a route he knew like the back of his hand. sloppy, wet kisses trail down your stomach, a small crack in logan’s otherwise composed exterior. by the time he reaches the hem of your panties, tongue teasing beneath the waistband, you’re bursting at the seams with desire, unable to stop yourself from whimpering and bucking your hips upward.

“i gotcha honey,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. “m’gonna take real good care of ya.”

logan knew you were soaked the second you walked into the room. didn’t need to see or feel it to know. still, he indulges his ego and stares proudly at the dark patch in the center of your underwear. knowing it was all his doing, that he was the only one who could get you like this.

when he pulls the fabric to the side and is met with your glistening folds, he can’t help the groan that rumbles in his chest.

“merry fuckin’ christmas to me,” he all but growls before diving right in.

it’s in moments like these where he wishes that photographic memory was his mutation, though he doubts he’ll ever forget this. his perfect girl, laid out so delicately beneath him, basking in the pale moonlight that seeped in between the curtains. his own personal utopia, paradise within the four walls of this rickety building you called home.

logan wonders if maybe he’s finally succumbed to the poison in his bones. because this sure does feel like heaven.

at the very least, it most definitely feels like christmas.

because having the privilege of watching you come undone was the gift that kept on giving all year round.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals @hextech-bros

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[stagtorccio]

teen lottie NSFW alphabet?

i always assume these requests mean pre-crash yall have to specify if you want wilderness or post rescue ... but yes anon

LOTTIE MATTHEWS — NSFW ALPHABET yall already know the rules... template from here! warnings: general kinda crude language, mentions of mania and kleptomania? nothing too insane though

mdni, 18+

A = AFTERCARE (WHAT THEY’RE LIKE AFTER SEX)

deeply emotional. threads her fingers through your hair, tucks close to you. soft murmurs that are usually nonsense pillow-talk, cheek to chest, heart syncing with yours.

loves showering with you after, because she’s got sensory issues and doesn’t like when the good sticky turns to bad sticky… gross!

B = BODY PART (THEIR FAVORITE BODY PART OF THEIRS AND ALSO THEIR PARTNER’S)

on herself, her eyes– loves it if she can just throw you a look and turn you on, loves making eye contact

on you, your thighs– especially wrapped around her waist. but honestly just flash her any skin and she’s trying to drag you to the nearest closet

C = CUM (ANYTHING TO DO WITH CUM, BASICALLY)

total little freak… she’ll smear it across your belly, kiss it off your lips, lick it off her fingers… sometimes she’ll just make it a point to be as messy as possible so you have to help clean her up.

D = DIRTY SECRET (PRETTY SELF EXPLANATORY, A DIRTY SECRET OF THEIRS)

gets off to the idea of being watched, just a little. mirrors, windows, the edge of public places.

sometimes she fingers herself in her walk-in closet imagining someone stumbling in. cums fast as hell. freak. 

E = EXPERIENCE (HOW EXPERIENCED ARE THEY? DO THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING?)

more practiced than you’d expect. not in the “tons of partners” way, but she's kinda intuitive. it only takes her a few minutes to get patterns down (and subsequently weaponize them).

F = FAVORITE POSITION (THIS GOES WITHOUT SAYING)

lotus— something about mutual closeness, locked thighs, eye contact, etc etc... likes it when you're tangled up in her lap, likes even more that you have nowhere to go.

G = GOOFY (ARE THEY MORE SERIOUS IN THE MOMENT? ARE THEY HUMOROUS? ETC.)

if she’s like INTO it into it, not very silly. more focused on the task at hand. catch her a few drinks in though? giggling the whoooleee time because she’s having so much fun.

WILL say some absolutely fucknasty shit and then laugh hysterically right after because holy shit I can’t believe I said that. she did in fact say that though and probably meant it

H = HAIR (HOW WELL GROOMED ARE THEY? DOES THE CARPET MATCH THE DRAPES? ETC.)

bare or a neatly trimmed landing strip. keeps it soft because she gets irritated as fuck being itchy (me too, girl).

I = INTIMACY (HOW ARE THEY DURING THE MOMENT? THE ROMANTIC ASPECT)

super intensely intimate. eye contact so deep you feel like she’s trying to soul-suck you. touches like she wants to merge bodies. she wants you to see her and understand her and vice versa.

J = JACK OFF (MASTURBATION HEADCANON)

does it rarely. slowly and trying to enjoy it on good nights, quick and just trying to cum on bad ones

very visual, often picturing the same person over and over again, sometimes imagining she’s not alone in the room or that it’s someone else’s hand instead of her own. it helps to distract from less pleasant thoughts

K = KINK (ONE OR MORE OF THEIR KINKS)

control and power play — loves taking the reins, coaxing surrender. it helps her to feel in control of something. vice versa, she sometimes wants to be the one giving up control so that she doesn’t have to think so hard about everything. sort of like cleaning the slate. factory reset if you will

sensory play — blindfolds, silk restraints, dripping wax… sign her right the fuck up

praise — sad lonely girl who likes when you talk sweet to her. fork found in kitchen. unsurprising. but also specifically saying you’re proud is what does the charm because you know this mf needs validation like plants need water… she will implode

L = LOCATION (FAVORITE PLACES TO DO THE DO)

anywhere that feels aesthetic. she’s got a Thing for aesthetics. forest clearing, the floor of her father’s study with incense burning, bed lit by moonlight slashing through stained glass. wants to make it cinematic (like that one sex scene in mulholland drive, rip Lottie you would’ve loved naked in manhattan)

M = MOTIVATION (WHAT TURNS THEM ON, GETS THEM GOING)

vulnerability. seeing you open up, confess a secret, (and, embarrassingly enough, cry in front of her). it’s her blossoming cult leader instincts kicking in sorry. 

also, unspoken glances across crowded rooms… she will literally drag you to a closet by the back of your shirt like a kitten

N = NO (SOMETHING THEY WOULDN’T DO, TURN OFFS)

anything detached or performative. hate sex? casual hookups with no emotion? not her thing. 

definitely craves connection and using sex to get in someone’s head– not maliciously, just to understand them deeper than she already does

O = ORAL (PREFERENCE IN GIVING OR RECEIVING, SKILL, ETC.)

giving, reverent with it. adores eating someone out slowly, eyes on your face the whole time, dragging her tongue and tasting everything. 

receiving? rides the actual fuck out of your face, like literally almost suffocates you a little. doesn’t pull your hair but does push your head down until you have to tap out to catch your breath. good luck soldier.

P = PACE (ARE THEY FAST AND ROUGH? SLOW AND SENSUAL? ETC.)

usually slow and sensual. wants to enjoy it and make it last. but when she’s manic or spiraling, she fucks like she’s exorcising literal demons. maybe she is. who knows.

Q = QUICKIE (THEIR OPINIONS ON QUICKIES, HOW OFTEN, ETC.)

will do them, but only if the tension was already there first or it’s a “public” place—bathroom stalls at school, back of a parked car before a party. she finds it more exciting when there’s the chance of getting caught.

R = RISK (ARE THEY GAME TO EXPERIMENT? DO THEY TAKE RISKS? ETC.)

risky. gets off on risk. being forced into a perfect little bubble your entire life has its side effects. nerves heighten everything else and she likes it that way

S = STAMINA (HOW MANY ROUNDS CAN THEY GO FOR? HOW LONG DO THEY LAST?)

two or three rounds MINIMUM, especially if she’s feeling manic. will go until you're limp and breathless then ask if you can go one more… good luck babe

T = TOYS (DO THEY OWN TOYS? DO THEY USE THEM? ON A PARTNER OR THEMSELVES?)

yes, but like, classy about it? keeps a little box under her bed– vibrators, a harness, glass dildos…

uses them more on partners than herself, and also just likes collecting them because she’s a kleptomaniac

U = UNFAIR (HOW MUCH THEY LIKE TO TEASE)

when she feels like it. will absolutely edge you until you’re begging, kiss just below where you need her, keep eye contact while she denies you over and over and over…

and does it all while smiling, telling you how good you’re doing. fuck dude

V = VOLUME (HOW LOUD THEY ARE, WHAT SOUNDS THEY MAKE, ETC.)

whispers, whimpers, ecstatic chanting of different phrases if she’s deep into it. moans are drawn-out and trembling. will stutter out that she loves you while taking three whole fingers, she may be a freak but she isn’t a neglectful one

also the louder you get, the more it turns her on… she loves hearing you lose your composure

W = WILD CARD (A RANDOM HEADCANON FOR THE CHARACTER)

has a small collection of polaroids of herself. you know exactly what type of polaroid. 

X = X-RAY (LET’S SEE WHAT’S GOING ON UNDER THOSE CLOTHES)

slender, subtle curves, surprisingly toned legs, BICEPS.

also sometimes doesn’t wear panties because she likes the freedom

Y = YEARNING (HOW HIGH IS THEIR SEX DRIVE?)

pretends it’s manageable but aches constantly. daydreams in class, zones out while brushing her hair. quiet about it but that doesn’t mean it isn’t noticeable

Z = ZZZ (HOW QUICKLY THEY FALL ASLEEP AFTERWARDS)

falls asleep quickly after because her mind is finally quiet for once 

insists on being big spoon because she likes holding onto you. and she has to have at least one hand under your clothes for that skin to skin, obviously 

if you get up in the middle of the night, she pulls you back. you don’t get out of bed until she does, rip you if you have to go to the bathroom

[essycogany]

Sonic HATES Being Wrong

Like…to an extreme degree. Let me elaborate.

This is a very interesting detail I’ve noticed ever since I made my Sonic’s Flaws post. Here, I’d like to talk about Sonic’s most fatal flaw because this conversation gets interesting. The flaw is one every variation of Sonic can be guilty of and one that causes the most damage to his world and even the people he cares about. If you disagree, I understand. Just hear me out and even if I don’t convince you, I hope this turns out to be a fun read regardless. Feel free to give me some context, correct me, or add information if you‘d like.

The Flaw

Sonic is terribly pertinacious and stubborn. Most people would think of Sonic Prime where he doesn’t listen to his friends warning him to not destroy the paradox prism, but when I think of Prime!Sonic I don't think of that. Especially since this version comes off more as an inexperienced teenager trying to figure things out. While in the games, he’s portrayed as rarely being wrong. Not because he’s perfect, but because Sonic never feels the need to change because of past victories. After all, if everything is going his way, why should he change, right? Well, this can be a problem. The scene in S3 ep3 where a few of the pirates were lost at sea, shows how truly stubborn Prime!Sonic (and Sonic in general), can be. He verbally refuses to take accountability for lost resources and unknowingly helps Nine have better predominance over them.

In this scene, No Place was decaying and Sonic finds out that the other pirate crew was stuck there. Everyone else, even the villains, reasonably says it’s too risky and he ignores them. Of course, he is within reason but if things went sour, it would’ve been his fault. Especially since that almost became a reality before the Chaos Council swooped in to help.

Near the end of the episode, Sonic says it’s a win for everyone, but Mr. Doc says, “Was it? Your little friends are safe, but at what cost? The fox can conjure up more minions with the snap of his fingers. Whereas our fleet is damaged, our troops are spent, and we’re almost out of time.” Surprisingly reasonable call out of the consequences of saving the pirates, if they don’t have enough resources, they were even more screwed than before. Then Sonic says, “I’m sorry but losing anyone is not an option.” While it’s warranted and makes sense for his character, it almost comes across as “We had to save them because I said so.” This is an example of Sonic not having a good argument by addressing the results of their battle. He does it a lot more than you’d think. Despite Sonic not listening to people being a bigger staple of Prime, I personally think it’s never expanded upon or executed well. Not to me anyway, but I don’t mind anyone disagreeing.

In any case, Sonic, as a character in every continuity, tends to “follow by his own rules” but this can be perceived negatively as “doing whatever he wants no matter who argues with him.”

Examples

Sonic Boom Rise of Lyric tackles this too. This is probably the least serious example but still can be a problem sometimes. This is S2 Ep 19 when an Eggman robot Clone tries to break Team Sonic apart and almost succeeds too. It doesn’t have much to do with this topic but I do like how in this episode when the drama started happening, Sonic for once in his life tries to talk about his feelings with Tails who turned out to be Steve. I know this has nothing to do with this discussion, but I just thought it was a funny thing to point out. The one time Sonic tries to talk about his feelings, he gets the door slammed in his face. It’s so mean-spirited and stupid. I love Sonic Boom!

But yeah, Rise Of Lyric also shows how his stubbornness can end up with the world being at stake. Or in the case of this episode have your friends grow apart.

The Sonic Movies tackles his shortcomings perfectly. I think he's pretty impulsive in all 3 movies. Mixing his perniciousness doesn't create the greatest meal. He's younger, so that would be expected. This scene is the most recent example. Sonic as a character tends to live in the moment and here, Movie!Sonic is playing a huge role in this category. He’s not even trying to hear anyone out. He’s in a constant rage at this point and can’t think clearly. He wants revenge on Shadow so much he loses himself. His brothers are so loyal to still allow him to get the Master Emerald despite knowing he wants it for revenge. Sonic's so hurt, he even forgets what they originally were there for.

I'm sure if Sonic choose to let his feelings consume him, he probably wouldn’t have saved the world. Why? Let’s just say things would’ve went out of control without Shadow. Sonic dogged a big tangent bullet for having mercy on Shadow.

Yeah, Archie/Reboot Archie didn’t mess around either. I'd say it’s sometimes as tense and bit worse due to him having the biggest ego and ongoing trauma. I'm surprised he didn't go insane. Notice how harsh he is in these instances. He’s overly angry here. Luckily, he has a large group of friends to help him take things down a peg and reminds him how they have his back. Even when worst comes to worst (which is an understatement), his friends are able to get him out of that mindset and put him back in reality. Hunbel him to put it bluntly.

In a way, Sonic's flaws in the Archie comics make me think he feels so guilty that he pushes himself beyond his limits as a way to make up for his loudmouth. Like in other versions, he feels the need to take on more than he can physically handle. He strains his body, mind, and entire being to accomplish tasks on his own because he believes he deserves the punishment. Alternatively, he might just be exhausting himself and attempting to take on more than he can manage. It’s not surprising, really.

These panels are insane for letting Eggy make a valid point. You can tell by his ears how Sonic’s getting visibly irritated. By the end of the argument, he gets super mad and can’t even find a good quip to back himself up. Because in a way, he knows Eggman has a point. That’s how I interpret it anyway.

Game or IDW Sonic is usually in denial when it comes to being wrong. He doesn’t address the issues directly but the person who calls him out for it instead. He’s the most experienced Sonic. I know some people use “mature” but I think experience is a better term due to how he doesn’t have arcs or character growth like other characters. More so he’s used to this song and dance, so his hatred towards being wrong comes from a place of thinking he’s got everything under control. Until it bites him in the butt.

You notice in most of these Sonic’s pretty angry and isn’t the biggest fan of being told off. Even in different continuities, the guy cannot argue without not being self-aware most of the time. The funny thing is he isn’t doing it selfishly. At least not in a typical way. To me, Sonic is the least selfish character in the franchise for a good chunk of the series. He sacrifices himself, gives people more chances than they deserve, and even takes the time to stop his main goals if it means helping someone else. But the guy cannot take the time to admit he’s wrong or his morals have consequences. Not because Sonic thinks he’s better than everyone. I don’t think Sonic sees himself in that way, but I do think he’s always in “I’ve done this thing plenty of times. As long as this thing works, I’ll keep doing it,” mode. Or in the case of Movie!Sonic, goes on instinct which is also a common part of his characterization.

Why Sonic Has This Flaw

Sonic never stops running; he charges head-first into any situation, always striving to do what's right. After all, he's the fastest thing alive. Sonic doesn't have the luxury of questioning himself or dwelling on doubts. While it's true that he has caused some issues, including in the games, he doesn't waste time feeling sorry for himself. The only times he's shown insecurity were during the Metal Virus arc, so interpret that as you wish.

This brings up another point. Crazy how much I didn’t notice, but most of the time, Sonic doesn’t like it when people disagree with him. Understandable, everyone doesn’t want to be wrong. But he takes it to the extreme at times. Like sometimes he's baffled when anyone challenges him. Sonic’s also never truly called out by the right people. I don’t mean Shadow, Espio, Knuckles, or the villains. I mean, Amy, Tails, Tangled, or other characters he’s inspired. People who look up to him. Sure, they try, but I can count on one hand how many times he actually listens. Sonic’s always so caught up in doing things his way that he disregards people who mean the most to him.

I mentioned this in my other post but he doesn't listen to Tails in Sonic 06 or Lost World, so the games count.

While Sonic often has valid points in his arguments with others, he frequently comes across as someone who needs to be right. He rarely allows others the opportunity to express their views or admits when he is wrong. This issue is often overlooked in stories where these conflicts arise, either because there isn't enough time to address them or they remain unanswered altogether. This makes sense, considering that Sonic typically doesn’t undergo character arcs canonically. However, I appreciate the presence of characters like Shadow, Knuckles, Surge, Kit, and certain Archie characters like Scurge. They serve to challenge Sonic’s morals and illustrate that he isn’t always correct. If Sonic isn’t going to evolve as a character, at least these figures can show that his sense of freedom and living by his own rules doesn’t work for everyone. They can be portrayed negatively and can challenge his viewpoints. They can be questioned. They can be challenged. Sonic isn’t always right.

His passion shows that he truly wants things to work for everyone. His stubbornness drives him to the point of frustration as he strives to help others to live according to his ideals. However, at times his approach isn’t the most effective. You can see that Sonic genuinely hates this, yet he continues to push forward to help those in need. There’s something both beautiful and heartbreaking about that.

Conclusion

What’s funny is that Sonic rarely gets angry, so you could say this could be one of his few triggers. Along with people being unjust and other such.

Overall, Sonic has good intentions but the results of those intentions are severe. None of this is to imply Sonic’s a terribly written character. It’s just a serious flaw he has. Though listening to his friends more would help.

I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t like a moment of his friends noticing a constant pattern of him being pertinacious and not paying attention to anyone’s protest. I wouldn’t want it to come out of nowhere, but it’d be an issue that’d progress over a large amount of time and add up. It could be dramatic or constructive depending on the situation and execution. Whatever character does it, they’d either talk to him about it or physically show the outcomes of his actions. They do it all the time in other media but not canonically. This is just random speculation though. I don’t know if I’m in over my head but I hope someone got something out of this.

All of this is not to say Sonic never takes accountability or listens to his friends. SA1 scene with Amy, when he apologizes to Bell in IDW for being too standoffish, and plenty of other examples. Like the end of Sonic movie 3. That Sonic Boom episode where he apologized for not working with his team. And endless moments in Archie and Reboot Archie. Sonic isn’t unreasonable. Just 9 times out of 10 he can get a big head. That’s all.

Stay Creative! 💜

[catalinasroom]

stranger things fics

steve harrington

it's just us @andvys

You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other. (8k)

ain't it fun? @maroon-cardigan

since high school you were always regarded as a top student with a brilliant future, but after college is over you find yourself doing the one thing you promised you wouldn’t do: moving back to hawkins. if being a total failure wasn’t humiliating enough, once you’re back you find out that your friends now hang out with no other than your high school bully. (29k)

touch me baby @sweatervest-obsessed

(21.7k)

chrisrtmas affairs @maroon-cardigan

your christmas turns into a chaotic mess when your boss can’t fly back home and you end up stuck in New York City with him. (26.7k)

indifferent @stevesherdaddynowlover

you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention (15.5k)

whats the name of the game? @maroon-cardigan

every winter steve harrington and you fight over the frozen pond between your houses. while he loves to bring his friends to skate, you need to de-stress from the pressure of ballet practice. it’s always an entertaining game between you two until you get the lead role in the winter production, and steve sets his mind to break through your stubborn, overachieving façade. (25.6k)

stuck @thecreelhouse

Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. (4.6k)

come home @stevie-petey

come home to me, okay?" "always," steve promises. in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington. (series)

save room for us @maroon-cardigan

one year after his divorce, steve sets his mind to give his daughter nellie an unforgettable christmas, yet in the midst of his efforts, he finds himself orbiting around the pretty receptionist that works in his office, diving into a holiday season full of secret encounters and sensual indecency. (24.2k) part two (20.2k)

guts! @water-loos

(series)

three's a secret @general-kenobis

You and Steve are friends with benefits. However, you've been wanting to try something way out of your comfort zone, and it brings Steve to a mission: find someone who agrees to your intentions. (Ps: your guest has a very peculiar piercing on his body) (7k) ft eddie munson

the edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) @andvys

Everything he once knew, is gone, dead and buried, burned to the ground and turned into ash. All he has known is loss, death and pain, he despised this world, until it brought you to him -- the sunshine he had long forgotten. Light he will follow till the very end. (series)

gasoline @stevie-petey

it starts out simple enough. photograph the februarys in exchange for a cheap place to live. all you have to do is go to their gigs, take a few pictures, and hope that they like them.it starts out simple enough. until the bands frontman, steve harrington, begs for more. (series)

training wheels @maroon-cardigan

first kiss, first love, first heartbreak. you and steve have never been good at doing things for the first time, not unless you're together. yet there are certain types of tension that not even the strongest friendship can bear, and after years of distance you two can't help but wonder if there's a possibility that all those firsts were only leading you towards forever. (22.8k)

eddie munson

the hat rule @ghost-proofbaby

the hat rule (n.): you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy. (13.3k)

forbidden fruit of desire @frombeyondthegravez

You are a dancer in the city, consistently trying to stay in line and be perfect. You usually don't let people see the darker desires plaguing you, but one man discovers too much at a party. He offers you a chance to get a taste of these fantasies, and you can't help but give in...if only you knew what he was hiding. (8k)

are you or have you ever been @elegantpaperoperatormaker

You’re the most popular girl in school, a 4.0 student, a fantastic cheerleader, and a  force to be reckoned with. Eddie is…well, Eddie. When you two mix, it’s like oil and water. Spewing hateful insults one minute and hooking up the next, you and Eddie navigate the thin line between love and hate.  (25.4k) part two (14.7k)

secrets I have held in my heart (are harder to hide than I thought) @andvys

A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever. (20.4k)

smoke me out @strangerstilinski

you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? (7.4k)

[moody-alcoholic]

Hii I had this idea for a poly141 fic and I was hoping you would write it!

So reader is part of the 141 and they're all already in a relationship

So Laswell insists on Price getting a secretary and she's constantly flirting with the boys of 141 (you guys have the work and private life are separate rule, and not many people at work know about the relationship)

The boys are just ignoring her, but reader gets pissed about it (mostly because if the roles were reversed, the boys would be all possessive and jealous)

So reader sneakily stakes her claim on the boys

Like making out with Price in his office, right before you know that the secretary wants to drop some papers off and they get caught ect

bonus points if it gets nice and smutty after she claims them

Extra bonus points if the secretary calls a meeting with the boys to tell them that you're involved with all of them, assuming that the boys get mad and kick you off of the team

I’m rubbing my hands together and kicking my feet. This really got away from me though… I might have to do another with the rolls reversed. Insanely jealous 141 instead. 

CW: Smut, handjob, ruined orgasm, insanely jealous reader - like really they need to chill the fuck out, thoughts of cheating but no actual cheating by anyone.

I see you other asks in my inbox I will get to everyone eventualy. I need to stop making everything so long XD

____

“So who’s the lady?” Johnny asks as he walks into John’s office, late as usual. You’d all seen her, she’d been here all morning spending most of her time in John’s office. Or walking around with stacks of paper and folders in her arms. 

You all took guesses about who she was and why she was here. All you managed to gather was that she was American, and pretty. Then John called you all into a meeting after lunch. 

“Well, as you know Kate is on holiday. So she sent someone to help while she’s away.” John explains. 

“To help with what?” Kyle asks. 

“All the paperwork you lot generate.” He says pointing at the pile on his desk.

“Isn’t that what LT’s for.” Johnny asks, patting Simon on the shoulder. 

“Simon has more important things to be doing than being stuck behind a desk.” John says. 

“Yes, but isn’t that what you pay him for?” You ask. It comes out hostile, you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s pretty and she gets to spend all her time with John. Not even you get to do that. 

“He has enough to deal with between the training and keeping you lot out of trouble.” John says, sighing.

“When does Laswell come back?” Kyle asks.

“A few weeks.” John shrugs. A few weeks, you have to live with her for a few weeks, the pretty little American secretary who gets to spend as much time alone with John as she wants. You’re not jealous though, because it’s you they’re with, it’s you climbing into bed with them every night. 

There’s a knock on the door snapping you out of your head. You realise how tense you’ve become, you haven’t even been listening to the last few seconds of the conversation. John calls whoever it is to come in and you all turn to see her standing in the doorway, she’s smiling with a folder in her hands. 

Why did she have to be so pretty? 

“I have the reports you wanted.” She says holding it up. John straightens up in the chair and calls her over, smiling back at her. Johnny’s eyes follow her too, you see him looking her up and down, his eyes lingering on her arse as she reaches over to give John the papers. 

“Where’re you from, lass?” Johnny asks. She seems shocked turning to look at him but her smile doesn’t falter. 

“California.” She says. Johnny's smile gets bigger as he gushes about the state to her. You find yourself digging your nails into your hands. 

“Right, you lot bugger off. Make yourselves useful somewhere.” John says as he stands up behind your desk. “Emily, you can stay.” 

It makes a shiver run through your body but you swallow it down following Simon and Kyle out the room. Johnny lags behind waiting for you as you linger by John’s door trying to listen to what they’re saying. 

“So, what do you think?” He asks as he throws his arm over your shoulder and you walk down the hall. “Cap gets a hot new secretary and we get LT busting our balls for the next few weeks.” 

“She’s not that hot.” You snap back, definitely way more hostile than it needs to be. He laughs, dropping his arm.

“You’re jealous.” he teases, you should ignore it, let it go. She’s not a threat, you know that, they’re happy and you’re all together. The only thing that could come between you all is you and your jealousy. That's okay though because you’re not jealous. 

“I’m not jealous.” You snap back. “Besides I saw the way you looked at her.” 

“Yeah, well.” He leans in closer to you. “Maybe she’ll help with more than just his paperwork.” That does it, you grip his arm dragging him down to the supply closet. Your hands are shaking as you swipe your card and push him in. He doesn’t stop you, giggling and running his hands up your top. He presses himself up against you and you turn in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Jealousy looks good on you.” He teases, with a cheeky grin on his face. It makes you mad but instead of replying you kiss him. It’s possessive, your hands coming to hold his face as you press your tongue in his mouth. He kisses you back just as needy, his tongue dragging in your mouth as he grinds against you. 

You prop up on your toes and pull your mouth off him. He still has a cheeky smile on his face, it makes you mad again. He’s enjoying this, enjoying winding you up. All you can think about is her though and her spending time with them, the sweet smiley blonde haired, blue eyed heartthrob from California.  

You press your lips on Johnny’s neck, you’re going to mark him up. All of them so she knows they’re taken. When you suck on the sensitive skin on Johnny’s neck he moans, his hands running over your bra. You let one of your hands fall down to the front of his pants. 

You can feel how hard he is. You flick the buckle on his belt and he gets the idea, moving one of his hands to help you drop his pants. 

“If this is what jealousy does to you. I like it.” he says, you pull your mouth off his neck looking at the red mark you left behind. You need to leave more so there’s no doubt in anyone's mind who he belongs to. 

You reach down pulling his cock out his boxers and running your hand down to the base. You keep your eyes on him though, watching his mouth tip open and his eyes squeeze closed. You run your thumb over the tip, already soaked in precome. 

You press your lips back on his neck and he tips his head back panting as you suck on his skin and pump his cock. 

“Fuck, love.” He breathes. You look up at him, his eyes are open now and he presses his forehead to yours. His breath is hot on your face, the only noise in the room are his breathy moans and the wet sound of his cock in your hand. 

“You belong to us right?” You ask, speeding up your hand. “John and Simon. Me and Kyle.” He nods but it’s not enough. 

“Need to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?” You ask, gritting your teeth and squeezing his cock harder making him moan louder. 

“You.” He says. You hum, pressing a kiss in his neck, your tongue drags over the marks you’ve left. You reward him with nice long strokes before asking again. Each time you do his response gets more and more desperate. 

“Fuck, close.” He says after a few more minutes. You feel him twitch in your hand. Usually you would get to your knees to catch the load, easier to clean up. You don’t feel like it though, he did stare at her arse and tease you about being jealous. You smile, you’re being evil working him to the edge, pressing down on the underside of his cock the way you know he likes it. 

When his breathing hitches and his cock jumps in your hand you pull away completely. He grits his teeth, his hands grip your breasts as you look down at his cock, twitching and leaking with precome. 

“Fuck you.” He says between pants. You smile at him and pull his hands out your shirt. 

“Really?” He asks shocked you’re leaving him. You press another quick kiss on his lips before heading for the door. 

“You looked at her arse.” You say shrugging, he’s still standing there, his pants fallen down to his knees, red faced and panting. 

“I don’t like jealous you.” He says gripping his cock and giving it a stroke. 

“I’m not jealous.” You say and leave the room.  

______

It’s been 2 weeks since Emily has been helping John and it feels like things have gotten worse. Turns out she’s a bigger flirt than Johnny, as soon as she got to know you all a little better she turned up the charm to unbelievable levels. 

Simon and John can pretty much ignore it but Johnny laps her up like a puppy in heat. Kyles no better, he doesn’t brush off her comments or sly advances. The worst is when she’s alone with John you end up sitting in the common room outside his office staring at his door until they’re done. 

“What's up your arse today?” Kyle asks, leaning over to whisper in your ear. You’re watching her take notes, that's what John asked her to do. You’re supposed to be listening to the brief. He wants to do some training in the urban compound but you haven’t been listening to what it's about. 

Johnny is sitting behind her, you catch him looking over at her notes every now and again. The room is dark, the only light is from the projector John is using. He could easily slip his hand down and rest it on her thigh. In fact that's exactly what Kyle did to you as soon as the lights were off.  

“Nothing.” You reply quickly looking back up at the presentation. Something about room clearance or blind spots you don’t care. 

“Missed you at breakfast.” He says squeezing your thigh.

“Wasn’t hungry.” You lie. She’d been joining you for meal times, you don’t always eat together most of the time you’re all spread around the base doing different things but you always have time in the morning for breakfast. She started joining so she could go over the schedule for the day with John, it made the already unappetizing canteen food even harder to digest. 

“Is it because of Em?” He asks, you scoff. You remember her telling everyone she liked to be called Em, Johnny was the first to start doing it, Kyle followed pretty quickly after. 

“I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m so bothered by her.” You say folding your arms. “I’ve been nothing but nice.”

“I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with Johnny getting the brunt of your jealousy.” Kyle says. 

“Well maybe if he kept his comments to himself he wouldn’t need reminding so often.” You hiss at Kyle. 

“Hey!” John calls, everyone turns to look over at you both. “Pay attention.” You both nod and he sighs getting back to the presentation. 

“You know maybe I wouldn’t mind a little reminder now and then.” Kyle says moving his hand further up your thigh. You can’t help but smile, you can hear the playfulness in his voice. 

“Maybe later. If you’re good.” You tease. He leans over turning his head to whisper in your ear. 

“I can be very good for you.” His voice is low, almost a hum, it sends shivers up your spine. He sits back in his chair and you smile, his hand squeezes your thigh again. You look over at Emily, she smiles as her eyes dig into you. 

_______

Later that night you end up outside John’s office. He’s been working late, later than normal. You’ve tried to convince yourself it's nothing, there was a bunch of new intel that just came in. Shepherd has been all over him, but something tickles in the back of our mind. 

What if she’s in there with him? What if that's why he’s been staying late? Come to think of it, you haven’t seen her leave the bracks, and if she’s going to be anywhere it’s John’s office. You grip the door handle and swing the door open. John looks up from his desk. 

“Forgot how to knock?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s not here, you got yourself all worked up for nothing. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You say but you step into the room anyway, closing the door behind you. You walk around his desk and he leans back in his chair and turns so he’s facing you. 

“I missed you.” You say, he smiles and tips his head to the side. 

“I’ve been here.” He says and shifts his legs together and you take it as your opportunity to sit down on his knees. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your nose into his neck and breathing him in. His hand runs up and down your back and you feel him relax further into the chair.

“How’s things?” You ask, it’s an open question, you’re not sure what to say, you just want his company. You listen to him talk about the lead they were tracking. About what Shepherd’s been bothering him with. Kate is in the Maldives last he heard, at least she’s having a good time. 

When he’s finished you pull your head out his neck and look at him. He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him. You kiss him long and slow, you can taste cigar smoke on his tongue, that must have been where Simon and him went off to after the presentation. 

You don’t want to stop, letting yourself hum and moan in his mouth. His hands land around your hips and you grind against him. Before you can get any further though there’s a knock at the door. You break from the kiss looking over. 

He doesn’t say come in straight away, if it was the others he would have just invited them in. Maybe then they would throw you over the desk and fucked you, again. But you get it, it's Emily you let out a sigh before getting up off his legs. 

“Later?” He asks, reaching out and grabbing your wrist. 

“Maybe.” You smile. There’s another knock, you walk around the desk and open the door. Emily is standing there with a piece of paper in her hands, smiling at you. 

“Sorry, did I interrupt?” She asks. 

“Yes.” You say, at the same time John says no. She looks confused and you step to the side of the door letting her in the room. She nods walking past you and you slip out the room pulling the door closed a little too hard.

____

The next morning after breakfast you’re all in the lounge when John comes out of his office followed by Simon and Emily. She looks upset about something, her eyes land on you and your frown. Simon stands with his arms crossed, John has his on his hips. He doesn’t look mad, maybe she’s leaving early and that's why she’s sad. 

God you hope she’s leaving early. 

“Emily has made a pretty damning acquisition about you all.” He says, you look at him even more confused then back to Emily who’s hanging her head like she’s about to cry. “She claims you’re having sex in the store room.” 

You almost want to laugh, but you don’t, looking back at John with a raised eyebrow. Now you can see the lack of seriousness on his face and you relax a little. You’ve all used that storeroom, you need a keycard to get in and it locks from the inside. It's great. 

“There’s been some-” He pauses like he doesn’t know what to say, pressing his lips together. “-discharge found in the trash.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh. Fucking Johnny, finishing himself off just for the rest of you to get into trouble, typical. 

“Well it wasn’t me.” You say crossing your arms. “I never let him finish.” You see the smallest smile creep on John’s lips before he sighs 

“Right tease she is too.” Johnny says, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it and Kyle laughs. 

“Well, make sure you all clean up next time. I don’t have the patience to go through the base’s rules with you. Again.” He says. “In fact, just stick to your rooms.” You look over at Emily, for some reason it seems like she’s not too happy with that. Or maybe she’s just confused, maybe she expected John to get mad. He was the one who started the whole store room thing in the first place, not that she knows that.  

“It’s not professional.” She says suddenly, it even takes John aback a little. 

“No, but of course I have no control over what happens in private between any of them. Not that it’s really any of your business.” John says.

“I understand but-”

“No buts. They’ll clean up their messes, keep it to their rooms.” He turns to her. “And I expect you to maintain a level of professionalism while you’re working with us. Your future with the CIA could very much depend on the report I send to Laswell.” 

You watch as she nods, balling her hands into fists. 

“Good. Now I'm putting this to bed, it’s water under the bridge. We should all be professional while we’re stationed here.” He says turning back to you all. You all nod with a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ Emily nods too before turning and heading back down the hall. Everyone waits in silence until you hear the door to the barracks close. 

“Bit harsh, sir.” Simon says.

“Yeah well, her insistent flirting was starting to do my head in. Maybe now she’ll back off.” John says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You smile looking back over at Johnny. 

“Does this mean you’ll finally let me get what I deserve?” Johnny asks, winking at you.

“You’re the one who got us caught in the first place.” You say throwing the pillow back at him. 

“Si, put me out of my misery.” Johnny says pleading at Simon who just shakes his head and turns back to John’s office. 

“Gaz?” Johnny asks, turning to him. 

“Seems like you’ve been doing a good enough job yourself.” He chuckles, reaching over for his mug. 

“When’s Kate back?” You ask John. 

“End of next week. Try and keep it in your pants till then. The last thing I need is her going over my head.” John says, turning back to his office. 

“Can’t promise anything!” Johnny calls back as he closes the door. 

“You’re a menace.” Kyle tuts.

“Yeah but you love me.” Johnny winks at you. You sigh, shaking your head, yeah you do. Maybe you never had anything to worry about in the first place. 

____

Sory to anyone called Emily it genuanly just the first name that came in my head.

[wongyuseokie]

Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g

Chapter 1: Love at First Collision

Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut

Word Count: 18,732 words im sorry i couldnt stop yapping

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!. 

Content Warnings:  mentions of blood (nothing graphic), wonwoo is also yn's housemate, but they have a mildly flirty relationship. joshua cares too much about plants. strong language and mentions of food and alcohol. Y/N is pretty confused, quite lost in general about her feelings, and very much in denial. quite a bit of arguing, no one here is good with their emotions. Y/N will be very annoying here. I apologise, but the girl has trust issues. they go back and forth, I’m very sorry. she’s feeling insecure, but nothing too intense (she got sad because of alcohol). Smut Warnings: protected sex (sadly this happens once in the first chapter, and that’s it lol), oral (m & f receiving) big dick! Mingyu, because duh! Sex toy usage (using it on y/n and it’s a vibrator, it’s red if that helps?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation. Lots of spicy moments with a ton of teasing. Shower sex. Author's Note 1: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the lovely people who helped beta this monster of a story. thank you @lovetaroandtaemin @nebulousbrainsoup @strxwberry-skiess for your patience time and love thank you guys so much!! Author's Note 2: welp here it is guys my last fic, ever, but good news, this is only chapter 1! Series Masterlist

“I am not picking up your tree, Joshua.” You held the phone to your ear, exasperated, as your best friend whined like a child on the other end.

“Y/N, please. First of all, she’s a plant, not a tree! Second, that plant is my baby. She can keep everything else in the breakup, but she’s not getting Lydia!”

You blinked. “You named a tree?”

“She’s a bonsai,” Joshua sniffled, voice wobbling with heartbreak. “And my bitch of an ex left her out on the front step to die. Lydia’s gonna freeze, Y/N.”

You sighed. “You’ve really lost it.”

“Nope. I gave her a human name on purpose. So now you feel guilty abandoning her.”

You groaned. “You’re emotionally manipulating me with a bonsai.”

Joshua smirked through the phone. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But I swear to God, if I have to hear about Julie one more time—”

“Nope! Just Lydia,” he said quickly. “Please rescue my plant baby. I love you, bye!”

The call ended before you could protest again. You let out another sigh, tossed your phone on the desk, and returned to your open document.

Writing had always been your dream—getting to pour your thoughts into something tangible, something that made people feel. You’d started at your company writing fluffy lifestyle pieces—“Make Your Apartment Your Sanctuary,” and “7 Houseplants That Won’t Die Instantly”—but lately, you'd taken control.

Now you led the Lifestyle and Well-Being column, tackling everything from relationship advice to self-love, and yes, even that viral review on the best adult toys on the market. The one that made your editor blush and your DMs explode.

You smiled faintly at the memory. You were making people feel seen—and that meant something.

“Done for the day?” Your boss asked, pausing by your desk.

“Yeah, you need me to stay late?”

“Nope. Just wanted to say—your latest article? Stellar.”

You beamed. “Thanks.” With a wave goodbye, you packed up and headed out—ready to play plant savior.

“Damn, she is cold,” you muttered, spotting the sad-looking bonsai on Julie’s icy doorstep. You scooped Lydia up like a wounded pet and drove her straight back to your apartment.

~~

“Shua?” you called as you stepped inside.

“Lydia!” he gasped dramatically, leaping from the couch. 

You blinked. “You greeted the plant before me?”

“And?” he said, completely unapologetic.

“I rescued it for you!”

“Can I water my girl first and hug you after?” he asked sweetly.

You laughed, tossing your bag onto the sofa. “Fine.” Ten minutes later, Joshua returned from the kitchen, Lydia perched happily on the windowsill and a bottle of wine in hand.

“She’s adjusting well to her new home,” he declared, pouring you both glasses. “And hydrated.”

“How nice,” you deadpanned. “Jealous of a plant now.”

“Oh, don’t pout. I’d hydrate you too, but unlike Lydia, the last time I sprayed you with the hose, you got mad.”

You snorted. “Why the hell is her name Lydia anyway?”

“She looked like one.”

You raised a brow. “Okay, then what do I look like?”

Joshua smirked. “Horny.”

You glared. “I will drown your bonsai in wine.”

He grinned. “C’mon, your last article must’ve left you a little pent up.”

“Shut up,” you said, throwing back your drink.

By the time the wine bottle was empty, you were curled into Joshua’s side on the couch, the warmth of alcohol and his comfort loosening your guard.

“Seriously though,” you murmured. “Why’d she dump you?”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Said I was too nice.”

You blinked slowly. “Wait? How is that an issue?”

He smiled. “You’re drunk.”

“You always do that,” you muttered, suddenly pulling away.

“Do what?”

“Assume I’m just a drunken mess.”

“Well, right now you kind of are. And... you’re really close.”

You recoiled further. “Right. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” he groaned.

You didn’t answer. You just grabbed your phone instead.

Joshua sighed. “Okay, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

You poured yourself another glass—your third—just in time for Wonwoo, your other housemate, to walk through the door.

You were sprawled on the couch, one leg dangling over the edge, a half-empty wine glass resting when Wonwoo walked in, looking devastatingly handsome in his work attire.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms, and a pair of perfectly tailored black trousers. His tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times. You couldn’t help but stare, your wine-hazed mind fixating on how effortlessly attractive he looked.

“Wow,” you murmured, not realising you’d said it out loud until Wonwoo’s eyes flickered over to you, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips.

“Did you just... wow me?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his coat.

You didn’t even have the decency to feel embarrassed. Instead, you just giggled and nodded, lifting your wine glass in a mock toast. “You look outstanding, Woo. Like, unfairly good.”

He arched a brow, walking into the living room and leaning against the arm of the couch, towering over you. “Have you been drinking alone?”

You waved your hand dismissively. “I started with Joshua, and then he got all snippy. But thankfully, you’re here now looking like a model from a GQ spread. Seriously, do you just walk around looking like that?”

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound low and almost too attractive for your mildly intoxicated state. “It’s called having a job, Y/N. You should try it sometime.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I have a job! I just... don’t have to wear a suit for it. Or look that good doing it.”

He gave you one of those half-smiles that made your heart thump. “You look pretty good right now. Maybe it’s just the wine talking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, poking his arm lightly. “Are you flirting with me? Or just being nice because I’m a little tipsy?”

He glanced at your wine glass, then at you, eyes softening. “A little of both, maybe.”

That made you giggle again, and you scooted over, patting the empty spot next to you. “Sit. You’ve been working all day. You deserve to relax.”

Wonwoo hesitated, but eventually lowered himself onto the couch, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned back. You could smell his cologne now, something warm and woodsy that made your stomach do a little flip.

“So,” he said gently, “what’s with the sad eyes? It’s Friday.”

“Joshua’s pissed at me, I think.”

Wonwoo nodded. “He’s not the best with drunk people.”

You pouted. “So you think I’m drunk too.”

“I think you’re not sober,” he teased, pulling you easily into his lap.

“You’re really pretty, you know,” you mumbled.

Wonwoo glanced at you, one brow raised, clearly fighting a smile. “You’re definitely drunk.”

“Am not,” you argued, sticking your tongue out. “I’m just being honest. You don’t get to be this attractive and not know it.”

He finally gave in to a full smile, one that made your heart flutter. “You really don’t hold back when you’re tipsy, do you?”

You shrugged, taking another sip. “Life’s too short to hold back. And you’re too pretty to not be told so.”

Wonwoo shook his head, but there was a fondness in his gaze that made you feel oddly comfortable. You let the silence fall between you, not awkward, just... nice.

He glanced down at your empty glass and gently took it from your hand, setting it on the coffee table. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “You’re really comfy too,” you mumbled.

He chuckled softly, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, almost as if it was second nature. “You’re a lot clingier when you’ve had a few drinks.”

You hummed in agreement, not really caring to defend yourself. “It’s because you’re nice to cling to.”

You smiled. “So you’re back home early on a Friday night, what happened, no hot date?”

“Nah, my job and its demands make it difficult to date, what about you? You wrote a very spicy article, did that not get you at least a few contenders to try out the toys in your article?”

You sighed. “ Shut up, and plus, I crave intimacy, not just a one-night stand.”

He paused. “Interesting.”

“Shh, let me sleep,” you mumbled as you curled more into his chest. 

Wonwoo didn’t push you away, just let you rest against him, and you could have sworn you felt his thumb gently brush over your shoulder. Your heart beat a little faster, and you couldn’t help but smile, too comfortable to care about anything else at that moment.

As the show on TV changed to something else, Wonwoo sighed, seemingly more relaxed now that he’d settled in. “You’re lucky I don’t mind being your drunk pillow.”

You grinned, snuggling closer. “You secretly love it.”

He didn’t reply, but the soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest was answer enough.

You blinked. “Sure.”

~~ The next morning, you walked into a plant shop, hopeful that obnoxiously expensive and ornate plant would make up for the snippy exchange you and Joshua had last night. The bell above the door jingled as you approached the counter, pointing to a tiny bonsai in the window. “For a friend,” you said. “He likes plants?” The older man smiled. “He named his.” The man chuckled, gently wrapping the pot. “Plants are like people. They need the right love to thrive.” “Yeah,” you murmured. “Thanks.” ~~ You were returning back to the apartment, and you took a sudden turn–then froze. 

“Oh, shit—” you yelped as the tiny bonsai smashed into someone’s face.

“FUCK,” he yelled, hands flying to his nose.

“Oh my god, I—your face—your plant! I’m so sorry!”

The man looked up, wincing. “You could have broken my nose. And you’re worried about the plant?”

“Do you live here?” You asked, noticing how he was standing outside the apartment door opposite yours, ignoring the blood.

“What?”

“I mean—can I help? Do you have ice?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Come in.”

Inside, he handed you his keys, too dazed to care.

“You’re very trusting,” you muttered, digging through his freezer.

“You already injured me. What more could you do?”

You found an ice pack and vodka, held up both. “You want comfort or numbness?”

“I’ll take both,” he mumbled, sitting down.

You pressed the pack to his nose. “What’s your name?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

“I’m Y/N.”

He cracked a pained smile. “So this is how you meet people? Assault first, names later?”

You laughed. “Only when I’m feeling flirty.”

“Cute,” he said, gently taking the ice pack from your hand.

You stared at the barely bleeding gash. “You’ll survive.”

“See this scar?” he pointed to one above his brow. “My sister gave me that. I can handle one pot-wielding girl.”

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly through the windows as you sat on Mingyu’s couch, nervously picking at a stray thread on your sweater. Mingyu plopped down next to you, a little too close, but you didn’t mind. His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned back, stretching his long legs out.

“So,” Mingyu said, flashing you a charming smile. “Now that I’ve lured you into my lair, I guess I should actually get to know you.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? You planning to interrogate me?”

He shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe. Gotta make sure my neighbor isn’t secretly plotting my demise. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out why you always look like you’re on a mission when you leave the building.”

You bit back a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean when I’m rushing to meet deadlines and not running a secret spy operation?”

Mingyu grinned. “Exactly. So what’s with all the late-night typing sessions? What do you do?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’m a writer. Lifestyle pieces mostly. A bit of everything — fashion, travel, relationships. It’s kind of like... whatever my editor thinks people are obsessed with that week.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “That sounds pretty cool. So you just... write about life?”

“Pretty much,” you said, relaxing into the couch. “Sometimes it’s advice columns, sometimes it’s think pieces. Occasionally, it’s lists of the top ten sex toys to spice up your love life.”

Mingyu choked on his drink, coughing as his cheeks flushed. “Wait... that was you?”

You frowned in confusion. “What?”

He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed but unable to hide his smirk. “I, uh... I might have read that article. Thought the writing was... bold.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bold, huh? Didn’t think that piece would be your go-to read.”

Mingyu grinned sheepishly. “It wasn’t exactly on my list, but it popped up. It was one of those late-night ‘am I missing out on something’ moments.”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “I didn’t peg you as the type to read lifestyle blogs.”

“I didn’t peg myself as one either,” he admitted. “But the writing was clever. Funny. Made it sound... approachable. I should’ve known it was you.”

You snorted. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving you a soft, lopsided smile. “You made it sound... less intimidating.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped. “Well, I do aim to please.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully. “And here I thought I was the one trying to impress you.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning closer. “How’s that working out for you?”

He chuckled, eyes flickering to your lips for just a moment. “Jury’s still out. But I’m definitely intrigued.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you tried to play it cool. “What about you? What’s your thing?”

Mingyu gestured casually to the wall behind you, where a few framed photographs hung. You turned around, realizing you hadn’t noticed them before.

“They’re yours?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

He nodded, a bit shy now. “Yeah. I’m a photographer. Mostly freelance, but I’ve done some shows and a few magazine spreads. I guess I’m always chasing light and moments... like that one.” He pointed to a picture of a bustling street at sunset, the sky bleeding shades of pink and orange over the cityscape.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, stepping closer to look. “You really captured the way the city feels alive.”

Mingyu’s lips curved into a soft smile. “That’s the goal. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

You glanced back at him, raising a brow. “So, you just wander around looking for the perfect shot?”

He nodded, leaning back comfortably. “Pretty much. Sometimes it’s places. Sometimes it’s people. Anything that feels... real.”

You felt a little flutter in your chest at his words. “That’s kind of poetic.”

Mingyu smiled, a little bashful. “Didn’t mean to get all deep on you.”

You waved him off. “No, I like it. You’ve got this... thoughtful way of looking at things.”

He gave a little shrug, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. “Maybe I just know how to make things sound good. Photographer skills.”

You laughed. “And here I thought writers were the ones who spun stories.”

He leaned in just a bit, his voice low and playful. “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

You met his gaze, your heart racing. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Mingyu smirked, his fingers lightly brushing yours where they rested on the couch. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So...” Mingyu leaned in, cocking his head. “If it’s not weird to ask, did you test all those toys out yourself or get reviews from others?” Your eyes widened. “A bit of both.”

“Interesting.”

“I guess you and your significant other can maybe test it out, and I can get more real-time feedback,” you suggested awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

He laughed. “Y/N, if I had a significant other, I wouldn’t be sitting here, very turned on, icing my face.”

You swallowed and laughed awkwardly. 

An hour had passed, and you were still seated on Mingyu’s couch, the casual conversation flowing easily between you two. The warmth of his apartment wrapped around you, made cozier by the soft lighting that glowed from the corner lamp. Mingyu had moved closer at some point during your chat, and you couldn’t help but notice how his knee brushed against yours every now and then.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu said, his smile widening as he leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch. 

“You’ve managed to convince an entire city that they need to buy seven different types of pillows just to sleep better?”

You laughed, shrugging. “What can I say? The perfect sleep experience is an art. Plus, people like to feel a bit pampered. Who doesn’t love the idea of sinking into a mountain of plush pillows?”

“Fair point,” he conceded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You make it sound so luxurious, I almost feel bad for my one sad, flat pillow.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, that’s unacceptable. I think I have a new mission: upgrade your pillow situation.”

Mingyu chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder as he reached for his drink on the coffee table. The simple touch sent a jolt of awareness through you, but you kept your expression calm.

“What about you?” You asked, trying to steer the focus away from how his touch made your skin tingle. “Aside from photography, what do you do when you’re not charming people with your art?”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up. “I cook. A lot. It’s therapeutic. Plus, I’m kind of a food snob.”

Your eyes lit up with intrigue. “You cook? Like, actual meals? Or are we talking ramen and scrambled eggs?”

He scoffed playfully. “Ramen? Please. I can make homemade pasta from scratch. You’d be impressed.”

“That’s a bold statement. I might have to hold you to it.”

He grinned, eyes glinting with a bit of challenge. “I’d love to prove it. But only if you promise to be an honest critic.”

You hummed, leaning in just slightly. “I’m always honest. Sometimes a little too honest.”

His eyes traced your features, lingering a little longer on your lips before darting back to your gaze. “I don’t mind honesty. It’s refreshing.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mingyu’s hand had inched closer, resting on the back of the couch just behind your shoulder. The proximity made your pulse quicken, and you weren’t sure if it was the way his voice dropped a little lower or the way his eyes softened when he looked at you.

“So,” he said softly, voice almost a murmur, “would you ever do a part two for that sex toy article? ”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Why, do you have any suggestions?”

Mingyu raised his hands in mock surrender, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe; would you listen to them?”

You smirked. “Maybe; I am a very open-minded person,”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and this time, he didn’t look away. Mingyu leaned in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh? I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

Your breath caught at the implication, your heart thudding against your ribs. Mingyu’s hand moved from the back of the couch to gently brush your cheek, thumb tracing a light, comforting path along your jaw.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded slowly, your voice just as soft. “Yeah... It’s okay.”

He smiled, his lips curving into something almost relieved, before he closed the small distance between you. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, careful way. When you responded, pressing closer, he deepened the kiss slightly, his other hand moving to your waist.

The world seemed to melt away, and all you could feel was the warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved with yours like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to catch your breath, Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

“Worth the wait,” he murmured, his voice rough and sincere.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. “Definitely.”

“I guess I’m happy you almost broke my nose,” he murmured, leaning in slightly.

You let out a soft gasp when he kissed you again, making you melt against him.

“I want to hear that sound again,” he whispered, making you giggle, and you grinned, and he took it as a sign to further things. 

He picked you up easily and carried you to his bedroom and onto his bed, settling you onto his lap like you belonged there. His lips never stopped moving against yours, each kiss more heated, more desperate.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were panting.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, voice lower, rougher now.

You nodded eagerly, lips parted, skin already flushed.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

A moan escaped before you could stop it.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, that smug smirk creeping back. “Ooh. Praise kink. Duly noted.”

His hands slid up your sides, under your dress, fingertips skating along your skin like he was unwrapping a gift. 

“Can I?” He asked again, but this time, he was already tugging at the fabric.

“Please just do something,” you said, practically squirming in his lap, need pulsing through you like a heartbeat.

He laughed softly — a dark, delicious sound. “You’re adorable when you beg.”

Your dress slipped over your head and onto the floor in one swift motion.

“No bra?” He asked, amused.

“Didn’t feel like it matched the vibe,” you replied with a lazy shrug.

“Big fan of that choice,” he said, palming your breasts in his large hands, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened under his touch. His mouth followed, warm and wet, kissing and sucking until you were arching into him.

Then his hand drifted lower.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these either,” he muttered, fingers brushing over the damp heat between your legs.

You let out a soft gasp, legs parting instinctively. “Can I feel you?” He asked again, voice a low rumble against your throat.

“Please,” you breathed, nearly trembling with how badly you needed him.

He slipped your underwear down slowly, teasing you, drawing this out like he enjoyed how desperate you were.

“Been a while?” He murmured, fingers sliding between your folds, making you jolt.

“Way too long,” you confessed, barely managing to speak.

He groaned. “Fuck, I want to taste you so badly, but some beautiful disaster smashed me in the face with a plant tonight.”

“There’s always next time,” you managed to say, breath hitching as he continued to tease your entrance with maddening patience.

“Oh? There’s going to be a next time?” He asked, cocky now.

“Depends if this time’s good,” you teased back.

He grinned, eyes dark. “Oh, sweetheart... it’ll be better than good.”

He lifted you off his lap, laid you gently on the bed like you were something breakable. You watched him undress — slow, purposeful — revealing long lines of muscle and the kind of body that made your mouth water.

When his boxers hit the floor, you let out an involuntary, “Fuck.”

“You keep flattering me; I might forget we’re not in love yet,” he joked, grabbing a condom from the drawer and rolling it on.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, writhing on the sheets, “please, I just need to feel you inside me.”

He froze, eyes wide.

“Won’t it hurt if I don’t—”

“Dude,” you cut in, voice raw. “I’ve been in a dry spell so long I’m practically a desert. Just fuck me.”

He blinked. “Did you just ‘dude’ me while begging for dick?”

“Yes, and your boner better survive it,” you shot back.

He laughed — hard — but that laugh turned into a groan as he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside you.

Your body arched like a live wire had touched it.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out. “You’re so tight.”

You gasped, fingers digging into the sheets as he bottomed out.

He started moving — slow, deep thrusts that had you babbling nonsense within seconds. One of his hands slid between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing just the right way.

“I can’t... I’m gonna—” you whimpered, already spiraling.

“Let go. Come on, baby. I’ve got you,” he murmured.

And that was it.

You came hard, shaking, crying out as your body clenched around him. A few rough thrusts later, Mingyu groaned, burying himself deep as he spilled into the condom.

He collapsed on top of you, his face pressed to your chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, still panting.

“You’re amazing. Thank you.”

He looked over at you, one brow raised. “Are you... thanking me for sex?”

“I mean, yeah? That was better than therapy.”

He laughed, brushing a strand of hair off your face. “I still owe you one. My hands and tongue haven’t even had their turn yet.”

Your eyes widened.

“Unless this was a one-time ‘itch to scratch’ situation?” He added, voice quiet now.

You smiled, slow and wicked. “I think we can definitely make it happen again.”

He kissed your shoulder. “Just... next time, maybe don’t lead with blunt force trauma.”

You grinned. And said,“No promises.”

“I should get going,” you murmured, reluctantly sitting up and scanning the room for your scattered dignity — aka your dress and underwear.

Mingyu nodded, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you move. “Yeah. I mean... this wasn’t exactly how I imagined meeting my neighbors, but I’m not complaining.”

You grinned as he tossed your underwear to you with a lazy smirk and handed you your dress like it was some ceremonial robe.

“How do I look?” You asked, smoothing your hair and tugging the dress into place.

“Stunning,” he said, eyes dragging over you with no shame. “But also, like you just got thoroughly fucked.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Great. Just the look I was going for.”

“Hey, it’s just a few steps across the hall. Embrace the walk of pride,” he teased.

You paused, glancing at the door. “Should I help you finish unpacking? You still have boxes everywhere.” He shook his head. “Nah. Go get rid of that plant for your housemates before you break another part of me.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Oh that’s a good idea, I have a weapon in my hand.”

Mingyu reached for your wrist and pulled you into a kiss — slow, sweet, and way too tender for a one-night stand. It left you blinking when he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You had that look — like you were overthinking everything. Just wanted to remind you I’m not a dick.”

You bit your lip, smiling. “No... just a guy with a really nice one.”

He laughed, low and raspy, and you forced yourself to peel away before you crawled right back into bed with him.

“See you,” you said, pausing at the door for just a second longer than necessary.

You slipped out, gathered your things with whatever grace you had left, and padded barefoot across the hall to your own apartment — slightly sore, definitely smug, and still tasting him on your lips.

“Oh my God, you’re alive!” Joshua gasped, immediately pulling you into a hug. Then he squinted, nose crinkling. “Wait—why are you sweaty?”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lounging by the counter. “Your dress is on backwards.”

You groaned, tugging at the fabric. “Okay, you nosy bitches, can I at least shower first?”

Joshua tilted his head like a puppy. “So… who’d you fuck?”

You glared at him, cheeks heating. “Our new neighbor. And for the record, I accidentally smashed a bonsai into his face first.”

Joshua blinked. “Why did you have a bonsai?”

You shrugged. “Felt bad. Thought a peace plant might help.” His expression softened. “We’re good, really. But damn. You broke his face, and he broke your back? That’s some poetic symmetry.”

You groaned again, stalking toward the bathroom. “I need a shower. Don’t go anywhere—I’ll be back with way too many details.”

Both men nodded eagerly, already settling in like a live show was coming

~~ You were halfway into post-shower bliss, freshly changed and just barely reclaiming some dignity when there was a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Can I come in?” You heard Wonwoo’s voice ask.

You glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, come in.” You patted the empty spot on the bed beside you. 

“Did I disturb you?” He asked, motioning toward your open laptop and mess of notes.

“Not really. Just I was brainstorming, earlier,”

Wonwoo settled beside you, his presence warm and familiar. “Maybe write about your latest hookup?” He teased with a slight edge in his voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay, what’s with that tone?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to maybe ask me instead? Weren’t we sort of flirting last night? I don’t just pull everyone onto my lap. But I guess the hot neighbour is who you prefer? What if he’d been a serial killer?”

Your lips twitched into a smile. “I literally knocked him out with a plant. Pretty sure he wasn’t in a position to hurt me.”

Wonwoo flopped back on your bed, arms spread wide. “So that’s it? He read your article, got turned on, and you jumped his bones?”

You snapped your laptop closed and sighed. “Why are you sounding so judgmental?”

He rolled his head toward you. “I was just worried, okay? What if he was a creep?”

You softened a little, scooting closer. “He’s not. He’s nice. Chill.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Okay. So... was he good?”

You laughed. “He's, um... big.”

One of Wonwoo’s eyebrows arched. “That’s not a skill, Y/N. Did he use his hands? Or, you know, go down on you?”

You gave him a pointed look. “His nose was still swollen from my plant assault. He was doing me a favor, not trying to win Olympic gold in oral.”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, unimpressed. “What, were his hands broken too?”

You huffed. “Look, I was desperate. Dry spell hell. He solved the problem. Can you stop interrogating me?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Besides, why do you care who I hook up with?”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Since it’s some random guy who lives next door, and you’re acting like you’ve known him forever. You can’t just trust people like that, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “He’s not a random guy. He’s a new neighbor. It’s not like I’m inviting a complete stranger into my life.”

“He kind of is a stranger,” Wonwoo argued, stepping closer. “You don’t know what he’s like, what his deal is. You’re smarter than this. You shouldn’t just let someone into your life because they’re charming or whatever.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “Why do you even care? It’s not like it affects you.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes softened just a little. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt. You always rush into things, thinking it’s all fun and games. Not everyone’s going to be what they seem.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sound like a dad, Woo.”

Wonwoo’s face flushed slightly, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m serious. Just... be careful. I’m just looking out for you.”

You softened a bit at his concern, realizing he was only trying to protect you. “I appreciate it, really. But I can take care of myself. I’m not a kid.”

His expression was a mix of frustration and something else — something intense that you couldn’t quite place. Before you could think about it too much, he took a step closer, his hand lifting like he was going to cup your cheek, but he hesitated, fingers hovering near your jaw.

You felt your breath hitch, your eyes flicking from his hand to his eyes. “Wonwoo...”

His gaze dipped to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you grew thick with unspoken tension. It felt like everything slowed down, and your pulse raced at the thought of him closing the distance.

But just as he seemed to make up his mind, his phone rang, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a knife. Wonwoo cursed softly, stepping back and fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah?” he answered, his voice suddenly tight. He glanced at you, eyes regretful. “I... I have to take this. Work.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, trying to act unaffected. “Right. Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a beat longer before nodding and walking out of the room to take the call. You stayed rooted to the spot, heart pounding, wondering just what would have happened if that phone hadn’t interrupted.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning into your pillow. Not only were you aroused, you were annoyed. You knew if you stayed here, you'd either break out one of your new toys or spiral into another pity party.

You grabbed your laptop, shoved it in your bag, and got dressed. A café. That was the move. Coffee, background chatter, and maybe a splash of wine. Anything to reset your brain. ~~ You were halfway through your first glass when a familiar voice cut through your concentration.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up. Mingyu. Those eyes.

“Uh... no,” you said, blinking. “I mean—yeah, sit. Please.”

He chuckled. “You can say no if it’s weird. I won’t cry. Promise.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Have a seat.”

He settled in beside you, pulling out his own laptop like it was the most casual thing in the world. You tried to focus. You really did. “Y/N?” He asked suddenly. “Hm?” “Do you hate your laptop?” You blinked. “No? Why?” He sipped his drink and gestured to your keyboard. “Because it sounds like you’re trying to kill it.” You stared at your fingers. “Seriously?” “I mean, you’re not typing—you’re committing keyboard homicide.” You sighed. “I’m just wound up.” “Want to talk about it?” You glanced at him, then nodded. “My housemate got nosy about us. Asked a bunch of judgmental questions. Then offered to do what you didn’t do, and right when he’s about to kiss me... boom. Call. He leaves. I’m left... frustrated.” Mingyu tilted his head. “What I didn’t do?” You swallowed. “Like... go down on me. Use your hands.” Mingyu leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Ah. That.” “My nose was a mess that night,” he explained. “And if I’m going down on someone, I want to enjoy it. I don’t want to half-ass it through a sinus headache.” You nodded slowly. “It wasn’t a complaint. It just—he made it sound like you were reluctant.” “Well, he doesn’t know me; I am never reluctant. Just injured with a bonsai.” “Well then, let me get this straight.” You leaned back with a smirk. “You’re annoyed because you were offered ‘better’ sex, didn’t get it, and now you’re taking it out on your poor laptop?” Mingyu blinked at you, and then you gave a slow nod. “More or less.” You grinned, and he took a step closer. “Lucky for you, I don’t tend to get phone calls mid-orgasm. Want me to help… ease that frustration?” Your breath caught. “I’m still writing.” “How many words?” You pouted. “Five. Just the title.” “Exactly.” He flashed a grin. “You’re wound up. Let me help.” “Give me like 1 hour more. I’m sure I can write,” you insisted, making Mingyu grin as he leaned back on the chair and played on his phone, with a knowing smirk, almost as if he knew you would not be able to get any work done now, considering how tightly wound up you were.

~~ “You’re not writing anything, are you?” Mingyu tilted his head at your laptop screen, clearly unimpressed. “I’m trying,” you muttered, snapping the laptop shut. “But it’s like my brain’s been replaced with mashed potatoes.” “Then come with me.” “To where?” “We’re going pub crawling. It’ll help you unwind.” You blinked. “It’s three in the afternoon.” He shrugged. “Perfect time to study the science of types. Dating, attraction, weird flirting tactics—there’s no better place than a pub.” “So this is pure science?” “Exactly,” he said. You groaned but grabbed your bag anyway. “Fine. But if we get sloppy drunk, I’m blaming you.” Mingyu grinned and offered you his hand. “Deal.”

~~ “Okay, she’s definitely into him,” Mingyu whispered over the rim of his pint, leaning toward you at the crowded corner booth. You peeked over at the couple across the bar. “How can you tell?” “She’s playing with her straw. That’s peak first-flirt body language. But watch—he’s not making eye contact.” “He’s staring at her chest,” you confirmed, rolling your eyes. “Typical.” Mingyu chuckled. “He’s either nervous or an idiot.” “Or both.” You sipped your wine and leaned back against the leather seat, your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved away. The buzz in your veins wasn’t just from the alcohol—it was from him. “You’re good at this people-watching thing,” you said. “Like, weirdly good.” “I’m a photographer. I notice things.” “You should’ve warned me you were charming.”

“I did,” he said, nudging your thigh under the table. “You just didn’t believe me.” You fought a smile and looked away. “What else do you notice?” “Right now?” He murmured, his voice low and smooth. “You’re tipsy. And you’re wondering what happens next.” You turned to him slowly. “What does happen next?” Mingyu grinned. “We go back to mine. Pizza, movie... whatever else comes naturally.” You raised a brow. “Smooth.” “Just honest.” And somehow, you found yourself in a cab minutes later, curled up against his side, letting yourself lean in just a little too close. The city lights passed in blurs, and you weren’t sure if it was the wine or Mingyu’s hand on your thigh making you feel weightless. “Are you always this cuddly when you drink?” Mingyu's voice was soft against your ear as he helped you out of the cab. His hand stayed on your lower back, steady and warm as you made your way up the building steps. “I’m not drunk,” you mumbled, swaying just slightly. “You’re not not drunk,” he teased, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. “Shut up,” you said, but you were already laughing. “And for the record, I’m always this cuddly. Alcohol just makes me more velcro-like.” Mingyu smiled as he unlocked the door to his apartment, ushering you inside. “Welcome to my humble, semi-furnished, testosterone-fueled abode.” “I thought you said your roommates moved in?” “They did. You’ll meet them—eventually.” He kicked off his shoes and walked ahead of you toward the kitchen. You hovered awkwardly in the living room, suddenly very aware of how intimate this was. Mingyu in his home. You in his space. “Water?” He called from the kitchen. “Please.” You accepted the glass he handed you, your fingers brushing his. The contact sent a small spark down your spine. “So...” he said, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. “Wanna tell me how many words you wrote today?” You narrowed your eyes at him as you sat down. “Why are you like this?” “Charming? Helpful? Irresistible?” “Insufferable,” you corrected, even though a smile tugged at your lips. “Still better than mashed potatoes for brains.” “Low blow.” He nudged you again, and you nearly spilled your water from how close you were suddenly sitting. His thigh pressed into yours—and that’s when it hit you. His thigh. Solid. Warm. 

Unmoving. And then he flexed it. You choked slightly. Mingyu looked amused. “What?”

“Stop doing that,” you hissed. “Doing what?”

“That thing with your leg.”

“Oh?” He leaned in, grinning. “You mean this?”

He flexed again, and you tried not to squirm.

“You’re evil,” you muttered.

“You’re the one sitting on my thigh.”

Your mouth opened. Closed. “I’m not sitting—” “You are,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “And I think you like it.”

You swallowed hard, heat curling low in your stomach. “Shut up.”

“I could make you feel better, you know.”

You turned toward him slowly. “I didn’t say I was feeling bad.”

“Then let me make you feel even better.”

His hand moved gently to your hip.

“You sure?” he asked, gaze sincere, voice quieter now.

You nodded, breath catching.

Mingyu smiled, pulled you fully into his lap—and the rest of your thoughts disappeared.

“Besides, I want to taste you,” Mingyu murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Say something?” You nodded, breath catching. “Yes.”

Mingyu smirked. “Good girl.”

You whimpered. “Oh no, praise kink. Dangerous game.” He grinned at you, full of teasing and promise, and led you back to his bedroom. You followed without question.

“Hey, nice,” you said, looking around his space. “You got the place set up.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, casually kicking off his shoes. “I had help from someone, but we ended up fucking, so—she wasn’t that helpful.”

You shot him a glare. “Charming.”

“Sit.”

You did. He peeled off his hoodie in one fluid motion, revealing his bare chest.

“You just walk around looking like that?”

“Problem?”

“None,” you said, blinking hard. “Just—wow.”

“Tell me what you like. Move my head, stop me if it’s too much, too fast—just say the word.”

You nodded as he leaned in and kissed you, slow and teasing. You pulled back.

“Wait.”

Mingyu raised a brow, but you stood and started undressing.

“Stop,” he said. “Let me.”

You sat back, breath uneven. He knelt in front of you, his fingers working the clasp of your bra. The straps fell like they were made to. He tossed the fabric aside before wrapping his lips around your nipple, warm tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. His other hand massaged your other breast in perfect sync. You whimpered as he switched sides, giving both equal attention, his lips dragging heat from your skin.

“Oh, I love those sounds,” he murmured against your chest, lips brushing your sternum.

He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them down, tossing them somewhere across the room.

“If I can’t find those later, I’m blaming you. They were one of my favorites.”

“You’ll survive,” he said, just before he kissed your clit. 

Your hips bucked. 

“Right there?”

You nodded, breathless.

He smirked against you, arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still. You weren’t going anywhere—not when he was just getting started.

He traced slow, deliberate circles over your clit with his tongue. Unwavering. Steady.

“You’re good at this,” you moaned.

“Also... was that my name in cursive on your clit?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Maybe.”

Mingyu didn’t let up—his tongue kept working you through every shaky gasp. You came hard, trembling in his grip. He didn’t stop. Not even when you cried out, not even when you begged. He sucked on your clit like it was oxygen. You came again, legs twitching, hand buried in his hair.

When he finally pulled back, you were wrecked—back slouched into the cushions, breathing heavy.

“So?”

“Amazing,” you whispered, blinking up at the ceiling.

You turned toward him, your fingers drifting to the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to,” he said.

“I know,” you replied. “I want to.”

He helped you slide them down, then hissed as you palmed his cock through his boxers.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, voice ragged. “Noted.”

You pulled him free and tried not to moan at the sight. He was thick, flushed, and already leaking. You licked his tip and smiled when his hips jerked forward.

“Fuck,” he muttered as you took him deeper. What you couldn’t fit, you made up for with your hand.

When you started massaging his balls, he gasped. “Shit. Shit. Baby, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop.

He groaned loudly, head falling back, fingers gripping the sofa as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, letting your tongue tease his tip one last time.

Mingyu collapsed back into the cushions, chest heaving. “That was... wow.”

You smiled, cheeks flushed and body warm, still glowing from the attention he’d given you minutes ago. He looked at you, all awe and affection. “You know,” he said, voice still breathless, “I should’ve invited you over way sooner.”

You were laughing, but the second you finished laughing, suddenly the afterglow of your orgasm had dimmed, and you were painfully aware of how naked you were. 

“Hey… you okay?” Mingyu’s voice was quiet, and your eyes flicked to him as you instinctively grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to your bare chest. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, hoping your shyness wasn’t obvious. “Oh.” Mingyu stood, then paused. “Wait.” He turned the lights off, casting the room in soft shadows. “I can’t see much now, but I’ll just—”

He handed you his shirt blindly. “Here. You can use this.” “Thanks,” you murmured, slipping it on fast and clinging to the extra bit of coverage. The lights flicked back on, and Mingyu gave you a reassuring smile. “You can relax. I wasn’t trying to get you out of it again.” You gave a breathy laugh, still a little too self-conscious to meet his gaze.

“It was fun,” he added casually. “I mean... not that I’m saying we should do it again. Unless you want to. But not because I expect—shit, this is coming out wrong.”

You tilted your head at him. “You think?” “I’m just saying, I wasn’t expecting anything,” he backtracked. “You’re beautiful. And I’m not... trying to mess with your head or anything.” “Thanks for the orgasms,” you said dryly, tugging your jeans on. Mingyu flinched, clearly caught off guard. “Okay. That’s fair. I deserved that.” You bent down to grab your shirt and looked up at him with a narrowed stare. “Right. Because you’re so emotionally competent.” “I never claimed to be,” he said, his voice tight now. “Look, we barely know each other. It was just sex. You don’t have to get all weird about it.” You stood up, heart thudding now—not from embarrassment, but from frustration. “I’m not weird about it. But you are clearly trying to backpedal hard enough to twist your ankle.” “Okay, fine,” he snapped, raising his hands. “I’ll go. I’m sorry for bothering you.” He rolled his eyes as he walked out. You didn’t stop him. Not when you were that close to tearing up. You didn’t know why it suddenly affected you; you knew you had some slight issues with confidence and doubted yourself quite a bit; you just didn’t expect to get like that during a casual hook-up. ~~ You slammed the door behind him, then stormed into your own apartment. “Y/N?” Joshua looked up from the couch. “Not now,” you muttered, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom. You could still hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in your head. “It was just sex.” Fucking idiot. You paced for a moment before throwing yourself down on the bed. The knock at your door came less than five minutes later. You cracked it open to see Mingyu standing sheepishly, holding a paper bag. “I had to think of an excuse,” he said, offering it. “Your bra’s in here.” You sighed and took the bag from him. “You came back for my bra?” “I didn’t want to leave things like that, Bambi eyes let me in, I didn’t catch his name,” he admitted. “That’s Joshua; he let you in.” Mingyu glanced around. “Can I sit?” You pointed to the bed, and he eased down onto the edge. “Why did you come back?” “I’m shit at this. At saying things right. I always talk like an idiot when I’m... nervous.” You blinked. “You’re nervous?” Mingyu shrugged. “You make me nervous.” For a second, you just stared at him.  Then, you said, “Stay.” He looked up. “What?” You crossed your arms. “Stay. Talk. Don’t leave again acting like we both didn’t enjoy that and like we don’t enjoy spending time with each other.” He exhaled a long breath, then nodded. “For what it’s worth,” Mingyu said, voice suddenly softer, “you have nothing to be shy about.”

You held his gaze for a beat, then gave a small smile. “Look, we started this all in the wrong order. You wanted to be friends…”

“Friends,” Mingyu repeated, eyes flicking around the room before landing on a small red object.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You groaned. “Oh my god, can you not—”

“A vibrator?” he grinned, walking over to grab it. “In plain sight?”

“Give it back.”

“Or…” he smirked, turning it over in his hand. “I could show you how sorry I am?”

Your mouth went dry. “What happened to ‘just friends’?”

“We can start that tomorrow.”

That was all the warning you got before he was on you, kissing you like he meant it. You tugged him closer by his shirt, falling back onto the bed as he slipped his hand down and popped the button of your jeans. You kicked them off along with your panties. His knuckles grazed your slick folds.

“You’re still soaked,” he said against your lips, eyes flicking down your body like you were art.

He pulled your shirt over your head.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

You smiled softly as he began kissing his way down, slow and reverent.

He turned the vibrator on and dragged it gently along your folds. “Shit,” you hissed, hips jerking as the cold metal touched your clit.

Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling just right as the vibrator buzzed against your swollen clit. The sensation was overwhelming—fast and dizzying, his fingers moving steadily, the toy pressed right where it needed to be.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, digging your nails into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Mingyu whispered. “You take my fingers so well.”

Your body trembled, your thighs starting to shake as the pleasure built.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Mingyu smirked, kissing the inside of your thigh as you fell apart on his hand.

He pulled his fingers out and raised them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum.

“So… friends?”

You were still panting. “Yeah. Friends.” “Uh-huh.” He grinned. “Need help with that?” He nodded toward the very visible bulge in his pants.

You sat up slowly. “No thanks. That’s not what friends are for.”

“I’m saying no,” he said dramatically, “but it’s not my cock’s decision. He says yes.”

You giggled, giving his thigh a light slap.

Mingyu leaned in and kissed your forehead. “See you later, friend.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“Oh—by the way,” he added as he reached the door, “my housemates get back this weekend. We’re throwing a party. Chill night, drinks, people meeting people. Bring your housemates if you’re free?” You smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

“See you around, Gyu.”

He winked and closed the door behind him. ~~ Later that evening, you emerged from your bedroom to find Joshua smirking at you over a mug of tea. “What?” You asked, suspicious. He raised his eyebrows. “You moan loudly.” Your jaw dropped. “I was trying to keep it down!” “Yeah, no. Wonwoo thought you were a wounded animal at first.” You gasped, mortified. “I don’t moan that loudly.” Joshua gave you a pitying look. “You don’t think you do, but when you suppress it, it comes out like a dying banshee.” You groaned and dropped your head onto the counter. “Wait, did... Wonwoo hear?” Joshua nodded slowly, sipping his tea. “He might have been concerned for your well-being.” You rolled your eyes. “Great. Just great.” “So,” he said, voice light, “you and hot plant guy...?” “Friends,” you interrupted quickly. “We decided to just be friends.” Joshua arched a brow. “After that performance?” “It’s complicated. We don’t know each other well enough not to accidentally hurt each other.” Joshua tilted his head. “Wise.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “Still, I need to talk to Wonwoo.” “To apologise? You know you don’t owe him one; you do whatever you want and whoever you want.” “I don’t owe him an apology, but I could at least apologise for the noise,” you said. “But... yeah. Kinda feels like the decent thing to do.” You hovered outside Wonwoo’s door before knocking gently and peeking in. “Wonwoo?” He looked up from his book. “Yeah?” You gulped. He was in grey sweats and a white shirt, lounging like some kind of soft-focus fantasy. “You’re drooling,” he said with a smirk. You groaned and walked inside, flopping onto the bed beside him. “I came to say sorry.” He shut the book, raising an eyebrow. “For what? Your gorgeous moaning? If anything, I should apologize for interrupting it with my concern.” You hid your face behind your hands. “You’re unbearable.” “Relax. You don’t owe me an apology. We’re not dating.” “Still. It wasn’t to get back at you or anything. I was just... left very frustrated.” Wonwoo chuckled. “That was entirely my fault. Work called.” You tilted your head, your eyes softening. “Mingyu and I agreed to just be friends. No feelings. No strings. Which... honestly? Sounds like the safest plan.” He looked at you for a beat. “And what about me?” “I know you,” you said softly. “You wouldn’t hurt me.” Wonwoo didn’t respond. He just reached forward, tugging you until you were curled up against his chest.

“You left me horny,” you whispered, teasing. “I know. I’m sorry. You deserved better.” There was a long pause before he added, “So… you two are done?” You nodded. “Yeah.” “Then,” he said, his hand brushing lightly at the strap of your top, “What if I just, you know, carry on from what happened earlier? I did get rudely interrupted with a phone call, and I believe I owe you a kiss.” You laughed. “Oh, yes you do.” Wonwoo smirked. “Only if he can see how gorgeous you look right now.” You leaned in, your lips close to his. “Can you do something?” “Patience is a virtue,” he whispered. “It’s not one of mine.” He grinned. “Very true.” And then his lips were on yours—soft, slow, deliberate. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless. “I’ve got an article to finish,” you said reluctantly. “We’re good?” He asked. “We’re good.” You smiled, standing up. He smiled at you lazily, and you practically skipped back to your room.

~~  The next afternoon, you were in your local cafe, still stuck with the same five words you typed out yesterday on your laptop. However, you were laser-focused and attempting to write a new sentence about emotional risk versus reward when a voice interrupted you. “What is a ‘type,’ and why do we stick to it?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. “Mingyu! A warning would be nice!” He grinned as he slid into the seat across from you at the café table. “But you’re so jumpy—it’s adorable.” “Oh, please. Just sit, why don’t you.”

“I intend to,” he said, already making himself at home.

“So what brings you here? Stalking me?”

“I could ask you the same. Who sits in my usual spot with a laptop and sulks?”

“Writer’s block,” you admitted, closing your screen.

“Want to fix that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “How?”

Mingyu grinned. “We grab a drink and talk about our dumbest hook-ups.” ~~ The bar was buzzing with low chatter and clinking glasses as you and Mingyu sat across from each other in a cosy booth, the soft amber glow from the hanging lights making his eyes look even warmer. You were on your third cocktail of the afternoon, feeling just the right amount of tipsy to start leaning into the silly side of the conversation.

Mingyu was nursing a beer, his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol, or maybe it was just the comfortable atmosphere. You twirled your straw around in your glass before looking up at him with a playful grin.

“So, since we’re already a few drinks in,” you began, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I propose we play a game.”

Mingyu arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “What kind of game?”

You took a sip of your drink before answering. “We trade stories. Dumb hookups, silly dates – basically all the weird romantic escapades that made us question humanity.”

Mingyu chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Alright, I’m game. But only if you go first.”

You mock-pouted. “Why me first?”

“Because you suggested it, and I’m curious,” he shot back, smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you thought back to your dating history, settling on one that still made you cringe. “Fine. So, there was this one guy I met on a dating app – let’s call him Jay. We went to this fancy rooftop bar, and I’m thinking, ‘Okay, this could be good.’ About thirty minutes in, he starts telling me about his extensive Funko Pop collection. Like, I mean... hundreds. And he insisted on showing me every single one through a photo album on his phone. At one point, he even teared up while talking about a limited edition Batman figure.”

Mingyu snorted into his beer, trying not to choke from laughing. “No way.”

“Yes way! And it got worse. At the end of the night, he asked me if I wanted to ‘meet them’ at his apartment. Like, not him – them.” You groaned, shaking your head at the memory. “I made some excuse about needing to water my plants and just bolted.”

Mingyu was practically wheezing at that point, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “You dated a Funko Pop guy. I’m never letting you live this down.”

You pointed at him. “Your turn, Mr. Judgy.”

He composed himself, taking a deep breath. “Alright. I went out with this girl from college once. Really pretty, seemed really cool. We went to a casual pizza place, and everything was great... until the food arrived. She took one bite, looked at me dead in the eyes, and said, ‘I think I might be a vampire.’”

You blinked, waiting for him to laugh, but he just stared at you, completely serious.

“Wait, what?” You finally said.

“Yeah,” Mingyu continued, leaning back against the booth. “She told me that eating anything but red meat made her feel sick, and she’s been craving ‘blood’ lately. She asked me if I’d ever wanted to bite someone, just to know what it tasted like.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, practically folding over in the booth. “You’re lying.”

“I swear!” Mingyu said, holding up his hands defensively. “She kept making weird comments about how pale I was and how ‘good my veins looked.’ I never got out of a restaurant faster in my life.”

You wiped at your eyes, still giggling. “Okay, you win. That’s worse than the Funko Pop guy.”

Mingyu grinned, obviously pleased. “Yeah, I still get chills thinking about it.”

You leaned back, feeling a little more relaxed now that the conversation had taken a lighthearted turn. The music in the bar changed to something more upbeat, and you tapped your fingers against your glass.

“So, what about the serious ones?” Mingyu asked, his tone shifting slightly.

You paused, your smile faltering just a little. “You mean serious relationships?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Just... curious.”

You took a deep breath. “I was with someone for about a year and a half. Thought it was going somewhere real, you know? Turns out he was cheating on me for months. Found out through his phone – he was so careless; he didn’t even bother deleting the texts.”

Mingyu’s playful expression faded, his brows knitting together in concern. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “It sucked at the time. Felt like my whole self-worth got thrown out the window. But I learned from it. Learned how to be a little more careful with my heart.”

He reached across the table, placing his hand over yours. The warmth of his touch grounded you, and you glanced up to see him giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“You didn’t deserve that. No one does,” he said softly.

You squeezed his hand back. “Thanks. I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to trust people again.”

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I guess I’ll have to be very careful then.”

You met his eyes, suddenly feeling a little exposed but in a good way, and giving him a soft smile not sure how to answer him. 

You took a second and then spoke. “And you? Any serious relationships?”

Mingyu hesitated, looking thoughtful. “There was one. A few years ago. We were together for almost two years, but we just... drifted apart. I guess I realized we were more comfortable than in love. It hurt, but it made me realize I don’t want to settle for just comfort. I want something real.”

You felt your heart soften at his honesty. “Yeah. I get that.”

The conversation hung between you, both of you wrapped in the honesty of the moment. The vulnerability, the ease of being real with each other – it made your stomach flip in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mingyu took a sip of his beer, his hand still holding yours, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this could be the kind of real you both wanted. ~~ By the time you both left the bar, you were walking arm-in-arm. Your heels clicked against the pavement, your head light with wine and conversation. “Okay, I’ll admit,” you said, “this was fun.” “More than writing five words and calling it an article title?” You smacked his arm. “Rude but true.” “Come on,” he said, flagging down a cab. “My place. Pizza and Finding Nemo?” “Nemo?” “It’s a classic.” “Big baby.” “Don’t hate on soft men,” he said as the cab pulled up. “We cry, but we cuddle like champs.” You laughed all the way into the taxi. ~~ “Here you go,” Mingyu said, handing you a soft black shirt.

“Thanks.” You stood up to change without thinking, but froze mid-movement when you realized he was still watching you.

“Whoa—wow maybe warn a guy, I almost got blinded by your beauty?” His eyes were wide.

You paused, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, I just figured… I mean, you’ve seen everything before.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said, stepping toward you. “It’s a fantastic view.”

You smiled sheepishly as you peeled off your shirt. Mingyu took it gently from your hands and set it on the bed, his gaze still lingering but soft. When you moved to take off your jeans, he helped again—quiet, respectful, but definitely appreciating every second.

“Need another shirt?” He asked, catching your hesitation.

“No, I just… I’m wearing a very uncomfy bra.” “Then don’t,” he replied simply. You raised a brow at him. “Want to help me get it off?” His grin widened. “Weren’t we just trying this whole ‘friends’ thing?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer, “and friends help each other.”

He didn’t need further convincing. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you into him. “That they do,” he murmured against your skin. His fingers moved up your back, undoing your bra clasp with practiced ease. The straps slipped from your shoulders like silk.

“Do you want me to fold this nicely with the rest of your clothes?” He teased, voice low and amused.

“Don’t push it,” you smirked.

“You’re cold,” he said, fingers grazing over your hardened nipples.

“Am not,” you muttered.

“Then are you turned on?”

You raised a brow. “And if I say no?”

“I’d find out anyway,” he murmured. “One finger, and I could prove it.”

You didn’t respond, just held his gaze.

Mingyu took that as permission. His hand slipped down your stomach, easing into your panties until a long finger slid inside you.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered.

You gasped as his finger curled just right. “Do you want to cum?”

You nodded quickly, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb found your clit.

He pulled his finger out with a sinful smirk. “Good. Then get on the bed.”

You climbed back onto his bed, legs slightly shaky. Mingyu knelt between your thighs and dragged your panties down in one smooth motion. His hands pressed your thighs open as he lowered his mouth to your core.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his tongue flicked your clit.

“Mingyu, wait—”

He immediately looked up, concern flashing in his eyes. “Too much?”

You shook your head, already lifting your leg to press against the hard line of his bulge. “No. I just—need you.”

His pupils darkened instantly. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Please fuck me.”

He made quick work of his belt and shirt, tossing them aside. “If I don’t eat you out, Wonwoo’s going to call me a selfish asshole.”

You groaned, laughing breathlessly. “Screw that. Just get in me.”

Mingyu climbed onto the bed, lined himself up with your entrance, and paused.

“Wait—condoms?”

“I have an implant.”

His eyes flicked to yours. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Mingyu. Please.”

“At least you said please,” he grinned, and then he pushed into you with a low groan.

You clung to his back, nails digging in slightly as he started thrusting. His rhythm was perfect—controlled, deep, toe-curling.

His fingers found your clit mid-thrust, rubbing in time with each snap of his hips. You clenched around him, moaning as your orgasm washed over you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lowering himself to kiss you, forehead to forehead. “Can I—”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He groaned as he came, hips stuttering as he spilled into you. Your head lolled back, your entire body melting into the mattress.

“Amazing?” He asked softly.

“Stupid amazing,” you replied, still catching your breath.

“Get your pizza first! Your dick won’t fall off!”

You both froze at the shout. You blinked. “Who’s that?”

“One of my housemates, Seungcheol” Mingyu sighed. He quickly threw on his boxers and padded toward the door.

“Want to say hi?” “I’m naked.”

Mingyu grinned. “Well I’m half naked, just listen for the dramatics.”

You heard Seungcheol immediately yell, “Just boxers? Really? Why are you always half naked?”

You snorted, deciding to hop in the shower. After a quick rinse, you pulled on Mingyu’s shirt—it hung on you like a dress—and checked yourself in the mirror. Good enough.

You couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m going to grab some water, is that okay?” You asked Mingyu when he came back to his bedroom.

“Of course!” ~~ “Hi,” said a friendly voice as you padded into the hallway in Mingyu’s shirt.

You froze. A new stranger stood leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at you. “You must be Y/N.”

You blinked. “I—uh. Hi.”

“I’m Seokmin,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m one of three housemates here.”

You shook it, already feeling incredibly flustered. “Mingyu,” he called down the hallway, “have you heard of a shirt?” You groaned. Mingyu appeared behind you, still shirtless, holding two slices of pizza. “I have, but I’m sweaty.” “Fine, fine,” Seokmin waved him off. “Take care, kids. Use protection!” You turned around and buried your face in Mingyu’s chest. “Sorry about him,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” you said, muffled. Back in his room, you both settled in with greasy pizza and fresh sheets. “I hope you don’t mind that I showered,” you said. “You smell like me,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m keeping the shirt.” “Figured.” A pause. “You’re beautiful,” he said, quieter this time. You looked over at him. “I mean it,” he added. “Not in a creepy way. Just... in case no one’s told you recently.” Your stomach fluttered. You smiled, leaning into his shoulder as the movie started to play. ~~ Sometime between the second pizza slice and the end credits of Nemo, you found yourself stretched out beside Mingyu, your body limp, skin still tingling from his touch. He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing damp hair from your cheek. “We okay?” You blinked up at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah. Why?” He sighed. “Just... you’re hard to read sometimes.” “You mean emotionally?” He nodded. “I’ve been told,” you said softly. “Hey, its not a bad thing, just means I got to work harder.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his action making you swoon. “Hey,” he said a moment later. “I meant it. About you being my type.” You scoffed. “You don’t even know me.” “I know enough to want to keep knowing you.” You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. He grinned, pulling you closer. “Movie round two? Or round two in a very different sense?” You smacked his chest, laughing. “Movie first.” But even as you said it, your fingers were already trailing lower.~~ When you woke up the next morning, Mingyu was already in the kitchen, humming along to a playlist and flipping pancakes. You walked in wearing nothing but his shirt. He looked up, spatula still in hand. “Hi, gorgeous.” You smiled sleepily. “Hi.” He pointed toward the coffee he’d already made. “Caffeine. And carbs.” You padded over and tiptoed to reach up and kiss his cheek. “Are you trying to spoil me?” “Nope,” he said, flipping another pancake. “Just bribing you to stay longer.” You took a sip of the coffee. “Bribery’s working.” He grinned. ~~ “New shirt?” Wonwoo’s voice made you jump as you stepped into the living room.

You turned slowly, adjusting the hem of your oversized shirt. “Yes?” He raised a brow. “Is it clean?” “It’s Mingyu’s.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo said, voice flat.

You squirmed a little under his stare.

“Didn’t realise you two were still...” he trailed off, but the tone said enough.

You sighed. “We’re not anything. Just... two adults with no self-control and shared pizza.”

He let out a breath, his arms crossed. “Right.” “You’re mad.” “I’m not.” “You are.” Wonwoo didn’t answer.

“Fine,” you said, heading toward the kitchen. “Be grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, following. “I just, whatever.”

“Wonwoo, don’t be like that.”

“I’m just saying, kissing me, and then sleeping with Mingyu, won’t that give both of us mixed signals?” You blinked. “Maybe, but he doesn’t know.” Silence. Wonwoo sighed. “Well, that can’t end well.” 

You dropped your arms to your sides. “This is exhausting, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then, don’t play both sides. Look, even if it’s early on, you and Mingyu have bonded quickly, and maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Besides, you want intimacy, and I’m not in a space in my life where I can give you exactly what you need to give you that.” The words hit like a slap, and your mouth opened, then shut. You turned away before he could see how much it stung.

~~ Later that evening, you sat on the rooftop of your apartment building, wrapped in Mingyu’s hoodie, a wine bottle tucked between your knees. The city sparkled in the distance, alive and unaware. “You okay?” Mingyu asked softly, stepping onto the rooftop. You nodded without turning around. “I’m great. Just airing out my emotional baggage.” He sat beside you, letting his thigh brush yours. “Want to talk about it?” “Nope.” “Want me to distract you?” You turned to face him. “You think distraction fixes everything?” “No,” Mingyu replied, smiling faintly. “But I’m really good at it.” You laughed. It was small, but it cracked through the ache in your chest. “I just got into an argument with Wonwoo,” you said quietly. “Why?” You sighed and began to speak.  “I guess just an overprotective roommate,” you said, not wanting to tell Mingyu everything just yet. Mingyu tilted his head, studying you. “Oh, maybe he’s just looking out for you but going about it in the wrong way.” Your chest tightened. “Yeah, I guess so.” “How’s this, anytime you feel blue, you can come over to mine, and talk? I can promise pancakes and zero judgment.” You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Mingyu rested his chin on your hair. “Anytime.” ~~ A week passed. You wrote your article. He read three books. You shared meals, shared beds, shared soft smiles across busy rooms. But something was shifting. It wasn’t just about sex anymore; you two spent more time together, talked about more personal things, shared funny anecdotes, and sometimes you both would just cuddle, even if there was no sex. And that terrified you. ~~ “Y/N,” Wonwoo said one evening as you passed each other in the kitchen. “Can we talk?” You froze. “Now?” He nodded. “If you’re not too busy with Mingyu.” The words were laced with something—resentment? Pain? You leaned against the counter. “Uh..no I’m not. Look, I don’t want to keep fighting you on this. Besides, like you said, you can’t give me what I need, and all we did was just flirt and kiss once.” “I know, and believe me, I’m not mad at how we behaved with one another, but I’m worried. What if he hurts you?” “He won’t. I’ve been spending more time with him, and he’s just the sweetest.” Wonwoo met your eyes. “He better be. ” You swallowed. “He is.” A beat of silence. “Do you like him?” He asked. You blinked. “What? Of course I do, he’s such a sweet guy.” “No. Do you like him? In the sense that, do you have feelings for him?” You hesitated too long. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly, walking away. You didn’t sleep that night. You kept thinking about the way Mingyu looked when he was reading in bed, or how he always remembered to bring you a drink without asking. The way he listened. The way he kissed you was like he was trying to memorise your soul. And the worst part? You were starting to fall for him. And that scared the life out of you. ~~ “You look like shit.” Joshua didn’t even glance up from his cereal when he said it. “Good morning to you, too,” you mumbled, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. He raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?” You poured coffee and took a long sip before answering. “Didn’t sleep much.” “Because of Mingyu? Or because of Wonwoo?” You froze, mug halfway to your lips. Joshua looked up now, spoon suspended midair. “You think I don’t notice things? Come on, Y/N. You’re not subtle.” You sighed. “It’s complicated.” He scoffed. “Love triangles usually are.” “It’s not a triangle.” “Sure. Just a very... emotionally charged V.” “Wonwoo and I spoke, and we cleared the air, okay?” You added, already tired from the conversation. Joshua grinned. “I know, I was eavesdropping when you guys were chatting.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Of course.”

“So what will you do about your very real feelings for Mingyu?” ~~ “Hey.” Mingyu’s voice was soft when he called you later that afternoon. “You okay?” You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired.” There was silence on the other end, but you could hear the way he breathed—measured and patient, waiting for you to say more. “I had a weird talk with Wonwoo,” you said finally. “What kind of weird?” “He asked me if I liked you.” A pause. “What did you say?” “I didn’t.” Another pause. “Do you?” “I... don’t know.” You heard Mingyu let out a slow breath. “Okay.” “That’s all you’re going to say?” “I’m not going to force you into anything.” You swallowed. “But what if this—whatever this is—ruins things? Between all of us.” “Then let it,” he said quietly. “If we’re all pretending to be fine, nobody actually is.”

~~ Later that week, Seokmin knocked gently on your apartment door. “Hey, sorry, uh... weird question. Have you seen Mingyu?” You blinked. “No? Not today.” He nodded slowly. “He’s been... off.” You closed your laptop. “Off how?” Seokmin scratched the back of his neck. “Quiet. Moodier than usual. Like he’s trying to disappear.” Your chest tightened. “Thanks for telling me. I’m heading out later; maybe I’ll run into him where he usually hangs out?” Seokmin smiled, “Thank you. You really do know him quite well. I appreciate it.” You found him at the park. Curled up on a bench, camera in hand, lenses strewn beside him like offerings. He didn’t even look up when you approached. “You’ve gone full tortured artist,” you said, forcing a smile. Mingyu clicked the shutter. “It’s quieter out here.” You sat beside him. “You didn’t answer my texts.” “I didn’t know what to say.” You smiled softly at him, “Just be honest.” He glanced over. “I want you. But I don’t want to be the one holding you back from figuring things out.” “You’re not holding me back.” “But you’re still stuck.”

You exhaled. “Yeah. I am.”

“Then say that. Don’t kiss me and pretend everything’s fine.”

You looked away. “I’m scared, okay? This... feels like it could be something real. And if it ends, I don’t know how to walk away from that.”

Mingyu’s voice dropped. “Then don’t.”

You blinked at him.

“Don’t walk away.”

You stayed on that bench until the sun dipped below the skyline.

You talked about everything and nothing. About the time he dyed his hair orange in college. About your first heartbreak. About the stupid article you were writing on “types” and how maybe Mingyu didn’t fit yours but kept checking every box anyway.

By the time you got home, your fingers were intertwined with his, and neither of you wanted to let go.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice caught you at the door.

Wonwoo’s eyes dropped to your hands interlaced with Mingyu. “I see you two are fine?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it again.

“Interesting,” he said.

“Wonwoo, what are you—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. Then, smiling, he said. “It’s fine, just be safe, you guys.”

You gave him a small smile, “Shut up.” ~~ That night, as you lay in Mingyu’s bed with your head on his chest, you couldn’t sleep. The silence between you was heavy, like it was holding its breath. “Mingyu?” “Hmm?” “If this ends badly... I don’t think I’ll survive it.” He kissed your forehead gently. “Then we make sure it doesn’t.”

~~ “You’re late.” Joshua said as you entered the apartment, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realise I had a curfew,” you muttered, brushing past him into the apartment. “You said you were coming home after dinner.” You kicked off your shoes. “I changed my mind.” Joshua followed you into the kitchen. “So you spent the night at Mingyu’s again?” You grabbed a glass of water. “Can we not do this right now?” Joshua scoffed. “You said this was a casual thing.” “It was.” “And now?” You didn’t answer. He let out a bitter laugh. “So that’s a yes.” “Shua, I’m not asking for your permission—” “No,” he snapped, “but I am your friend. And watching you sleepwalk into something that’s going to rip you apart isn’t easy.” Your chest tightened. “You don’t know that.” “I know you. And I’ve seen how you get when you fall for someone.” You set your glass down a little too hard. “He’s not like the others.” “Maybe not. But you are someone who falls head over heels and more when you like someone, and I’m scared that one tiny misstep on his part will break you.” You didn’t text Mingyu that night. Or the next morning. Or the one after that. You needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out why everything felt like it was unravelling—when on the surface, things had never been more... perfect. So why did you feel so off?

~~ Three days later, Mingyu showed up at your door. “You avoiding me?” He asked, not bothering with hello. You stared at him. “I just needed time.” “Without telling me?” “I didn’t think I needed to give you a heads-up every time I took a breath.” Mingyu’s jaw flexed. “That’s not what this is about, and you know it.” You crossed your arms. “Then what is this about, Mingyu?” “You’re pulling away.” You stayed silent. Mingyu stepped closer. “You said this was real. That you wanted it.” “I did.” “And now?” You opened your mouth, then shut it because you didn’t know. Not really. Mingyu’s voice cracked. “You can’t keep doing this. Wanting me when it’s convenient. Pretending nothing’s changed.” “I’m scared, okay?” You snapped. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be all-in without ruining everything.” His eyes softened for a moment. “So ruin it with me. Together.” You blinked, stunned. But before you could say anything, Wonwoo appeared behind you. “Hey, just checking—” He froze when he saw Mingyu. His expression shifted, cold and unreadable. “Oh. It’s you.” Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “Nice to see you too.” You rubbed your temples. “Not now, please.” Wonwoo looked at you. “I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you want to talk. Or if you’re done letting him talk at you.” “Wow,” Mingyu muttered. “What’s his deal?” You turned on him. “Don’t.” “Don’t what? Point out the obvious?” “He’s trying to stand up for me.” “Right, and what am I doing? I’m just trying to get you to stand up for yourself, too.” You swallowed hard. “You should go.” Mingyu blinked. “What?” “I need space.” He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “Mingyu—” He stepped back, something shuttering in his face. “Right. Got it.” And just like that, he walked out. You shut the door and collapsed against it. Your chest ached in that specific, aching way that only happens when you push away something you want because you’re terrified you’ll destroy it. An hour later, your phone buzzed. Mingyu: I won’t chase you. But I’m not going anywhere either. You stared at the screen, heart thudding. Because that was the problem. He wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe that scared you more than anything. ~~ “You haven’t said anything in ten minutes,” Joshua pointed out, glancing at you from the other end of the couch.

“I’m thinking,” you replied, eyes fixed on the paused movie screen, not actually watching. He raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous territory.” You threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Ha-ha.” “Still no Mingyu?” “Nope.” “And that’s... good or bad?” You let out a long breath. “Confusing.” Joshua nodded slowly. “That tracks.” You finally looked at him. “Do you think I’m the problem?” He tilted his head. “Define ‘problem.’” “Do not make this worse.” He laughed under his breath. “Okay, look. You’ve had shit luck with relationships. You guard yourself. You get in your head. And yeah, sometimes you push people away before they can leave.” You blinked. “Damn. Don’t hold back.” “I’m just saying,” Joshua said, a little softer now. “Mingyu seems like the first guy who’s actually trying to stay. That scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?” You didn’t answer. Later that night, you found yourself scrolling through photos. Pictures Mingyu had taken—blurry ones from the pub crawl, snapshots of street lights and half-smiles and candid moments. One of you laughing into a glass of wine. You hadn’t even known he’d taken that one. There was something about the way he saw the world. The way he saw you. Like he was already memorising you before he had the right to. Your heart ached.

~~ You couldn’t stop pacing. It had been a whole day since the fight, and your chest still felt tight. You hated fighting with Mingyu — it felt unnatural like the world was slightly off balance. You weren’t even sure how it had escalated so quickly. 

One moment you were just trying to be honest, saying you needed some space to process everything that had happened between you two. The next, Mingyu was snapping, clearly frustrated, saying it felt like every time you took a step forward, you took two steps back.

Now, you were standing in your living room, debating whether to go over and knock on his door. Joshua had already given you a pep talk, telling you to just be honest with Mingyu, but it still felt like walking into a lion’s den. You weren’t even sure what you’d say.

“Screw it,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing on an oversized hoodie and making your way to his door before you could second-guess yourself again.

You hesitated for a second before giving three firm knocks. You heard some rustling on the other side, and then the door opened, revealing a tired-looking Mingyu. His hair was tousled, and he was in a plain white tee and sweats, but his expression was guarded.

“What do you want?” He asked, his tone sharper than usual.

You swallowed hard, feeling your resolve falter. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, eyes scanning your face, before he finally stepped aside and let you in. You walked to the living room, standing awkwardly by the couch while Mingyu stayed by the door, arms crossed over his chest. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

“Mingyu,” you started softly, twisting your fingers together. “I hate fighting with you.”

He huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, I hate feeling like I’m being pushed away every time things start getting good.”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I wasn’t trying to push you away.”

“Then what the hell was it?” He snapped, finally turning to look at you, his eyes a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You do all these things that make me feel like this could be something, then the next day you’re saying you need space? I don’t get it. Am I supposed to just keep guessing how you feel?”

You took a deep breath and moved closer, but kept a little distance. “I... I got overwhelmed. I thought that if I took a step back, I’d be able to figure out what I was feeling without dragging you into my mess.”

Mingyu looked at you incredulously. “You are such a hypocrite, you know that? You keep telling me to be honest with how I feel, to just say it when I’m upset or happy or whatever. And then you get overwhelmed and decide to push me away instead of telling me what’s going on in your head.”

The guilt gnawed at your stomach, and you looked down. “I know. You’re right. I’m... I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Mingyu’s voice softened, but he didn’t move closer.

“Of how much I like you. Of how much this means to me. Because if this goes wrong... it’s gonna hurt. A lot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

Mingyu sighed deeply, rubbing his face with one hand. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, you know. I’m terrified of screwing this up too. But you don’t see me trying to put distance between us every time things get intense.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I’m sorry. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it. I never thought I’d care about someone this much again. I just panicked.”

Mingyu finally moved, taking a step toward you. “You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep pulling back every time you get scared. I can’t take it. I’m all in with you, but I need you to meet me halfway. I can’t keep feeling like I’m chasing after you while you’re running in the opposite direction.”

You nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry I keep doing that. I just... I’m scared of losing you, so I keep pushing you away before you can leave on your own.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, his hands hovering uncertainly before he cupped your face. “I’m not leaving. Okay? I’m not. You’re stuck with me.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Then stop making it so hard to stay,” he whispered, his voice softer now, more tender.

You nodded, covering his hands with yours. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, and without another word, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, almost hesitant kiss to your lips. You melted into it, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as his fingers curled into your hair. The kiss was slow, tender, like he was reassuring himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and Mingyu sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re really exhausting sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Yeah. But I’m worth it, right?”

He chuckled, finally wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah. You are. Just... stop running, okay?”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek. “Okay. I’m done running.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening around you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

You looked up at him, and this time you kissed him first, letting your lips linger on his, soft and unhurried. Mingyu hummed contentedly, his hands sliding up your back. The tension melted away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right again.~~ 

The next morning, after showering at Mingyu’s apartment and changing, you kissed Mingyu several times, before you left his place, and walked across the hall into your apartment to find Joshua seated at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal and the look. “You smell like sex and regret,” he said, casually spooning cereal into his mouth. “Morning to you, too.” “Is that Mingyu’s shirt?” You ignored him, heading toward your room. “You know,” he called after you, “I’ve been holding off on the ‘told you so,’ but I’m getting real close to breaking.” You stuck your head out. “Don’t.” Joshua raised both hands. “Just don’t get in too deep if you’re not willing to commit to him. It’ll hurt you both if that happens.” You stared at him. “What if I already am?” He frowned, setting down his spoon. “Then I hope any potential heartache is worth it.” ~~ That afternoon, you curled up on the sofa with your laptop. Article deadline looming. Blank document open. Brain, fried. It wasn’t until Mingyu texted that something sparked: Mingyu: What’s your favourite love story? You stared at the screen. You: Fictional? Mingyu: No. Real. You: Mine hasn’t been written yet. Mingyu: What if we wrote it together? Your chest did that stupid fluttering thing again. Like your heart had gone off-script. You smiled. You: Bold of you to assume you’d make the final draft. Mingyu: You keep rewriting the intro, babe. I’m just trying to stay on the page. You bit your lip, closing the chat. And just like that, your fingers flew across the keyboard. Because suddenly, you had something to say. ~~ Two days later, you knocked on Mingyu’s door with with snacks in attempt to bribe him to edit your lastest draft. 

He opened it with sleepy eyes and messy hair, wearing a hoodie that had no business looking that good. “Morning beautiful,” he greeted with a warm smile. You smiled, and held up a USB. “I wrote a my final draft of my most recent article, do you want to help me edit?” Final draft. No red pen needed.”

“Is that why you have snacks?” He asked already smiling. You grinned “Maybe.” “Well in that case, get in here, Hemingway,” he teased, stepping aside to let you in. You watched him read it from across the room. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Just kept scrolling, eyes focused, mouth slightly parted.

When he finished, he looked up. “That last line… ‘a spark can form the most unusual of places and encounters’.” You tilted your head. “Too much?” He shook his head. “No. It’s perfect.” You smiled softly. “It’s about you.” “I figured,” he said, walking over, “but it still wrecked me.” You leaned against the counter. “Good. That’s what great writing does.” He stepped closer. “So, does this mean you’ll fight for us?” “I think so.” He grinned. “Good, that’s all I can ask for.” “I think you already are.” And as he kissed you—slow, deliberate, familiar in all the right ways—you let the weight fall from your shoulders. Because maybe this wasn’t the start of a love story. Maybe it was the chapter where things stopped being a fantasy… ...and finally started feeling real. ~~ “You’ve been quiet all evening.” You glanced up from your wine glass. Mingyu was stretched out on the other side of the couch, hoodie sleeves bunched around his forearms, watching you with careful eyes. “I’m thinking.” “That’s dangerous,” he teased, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” “I don’t know how.” He nodded like he understood—but you could tell it still stung. You shifted in your seat. “What are we doing?” Mingyu blinked. “What do you mean?” “This thing. Us. It’s not just sex anymore.” “No, it’s not.” “And we’re not exactly friends either.” “I’m okay with not having a label,” he said. “Are you?” You looked down at your glass. “I want to be.” “But you’re not.” “I’m scared that if I name it, I’ll ruin it.” Mingyu sat up slowly. “You think love ruins things?” “I think people do.” That hit harder than you intended, and you both knew it. Later, when he kissed you, it was slow and sweet, like he was trying to remind you it didn’t have to be scary. You kissed him back with everything you had. And maybe that was the problem. Because giving someone everything? It meant they had the power to break you. ~~ The following day, the tension hadn’t left. You both pretended it had. You made breakfast. He teased you for burning the eggs. You laughed too loudly. He smiled too easily. But the silence between the sentences was deafening. When he finally left, the apartment felt too quiet. And when Joshua came home, he took one look at you and sighed. “Okay. Spill.” You sank onto the sofa. “I think I’m falling for him.” Joshua’s eyes widened; he never thought you’d admit it so quickly, but he didn’t interrupt. “And I don’t know if I’m ready.” He sat beside you, unusually serious. “Then don’t rush it. But don’t run from it either.” “I’m not running.” “You’re limping away at full speed.” You groaned. “God, you’re annoying when you’re right.” He smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. “I only pull it out when necessary.” ~~ It was one of those quiet evenings, the kind where the city seemed to take a collective breath. You were on your way back from the grocery store, bags in hand, when you spotted Mingyu standing just outside your apartment building. At first, the sight of him made you smile – he was leaning against the railing, his broad shoulders relaxed, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the street lamp.

But then you noticed he wasn’t alone.

A girl stood in front of him, long hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a fitted leather jacket and heels that clicked against the pavement. She was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing his arm lightly. Your steps faltered, and you instinctively took a step back, ducking behind the edge of the building.

Your heart clenched, a weird mix of confusion and something dangerously close to jealousy settling in your chest. You couldn’t help but feel stupid – why did it bother you so much to see him with someone else? It wasn’t like you had a claim on him. But there was something about how effortlessly beautiful she looked, how easily she made him laugh, that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

A million questions ran through your mind. Did he know her from work? Was she just a friend? Or worse, an ex? You couldn’t help but notice how naturally he smiled at her, the way he leaned down to hear her better, his hand brushing back his hair the way he did when he was feeling a little self-conscious. You felt like a complete idiot, rooted to the spot, irrationally annoyed at how close they seemed.

You peeked around the corner, just enough to see her lean in a bit closer, her hand lingering on his arm. Mingyu seemed a little uncomfortable, glancing down at her hand before giving her a polite smile. They exchanged a few more words that you couldn’t quite hear, and then she waved, heading off down the sidewalk.

You waited until she was out of sight before stepping back out, trying to act natural. You kept your gaze on the ground as you made your way to the entrance, but of course, Mingyu spotted you instantly.

“Hey!” He called out, jogging over to you.

You forced a smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “Hey.”

He seemed to hesitate, studying your face. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, shifting the grocery bag to your other hand.

Mingyu frowned, stepping closer. “Are you sure? You seem... off.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, offering a small smile that felt too tight. “Yeah, just a long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Here, let me help.” Before you could protest, he took one of the bags from your hand, his fingers brushing yours. The familiar warmth made your heart ache, and you bit your lip to keep your expression neutral.

As you walked inside, you couldn’t help but feel silly for feeling so... possessive. You weren’t even sure why it hit you so hard. Sure, Mingyu had been flirty with you, and you had shared some intense moments, but did that really mean he wasn’t allowed to have other girls around? 

Your mind kept replaying the way the girl leaned into him, her bright, carefree laugh, and the way Mingyu didn’t immediately step away. You hated how insecure it made you feel, and even more so how your mood had completely flipped.

When you reached your apartment, Mingyu put the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to you, concern etched into his features. “You’re incredibly cute when you’re grumpy, but I must still ask, why did you storm off when I called your name?” Mingyu stood in your doorway, his tone curious.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course I noticed.”

You crossed your arms, heart thudding. “You seemed busy.”

Mingyu scoffed. “What does that mean?”

“You were laughing. With some girl.”

“Seokmin’s cousin?”

You looked away. “Does it matter?”

“It does when you weaponise jealousy against me.”

Silence stretched between you like a taut wire ready to snap.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you whispered.

“But you did.”

You met his eyes. “So did you.”

He sighed, stepping back. “We were supposed to be honest. About what we wanted. About how we felt.”

“You said we didn’t need labels.”

“I didn’t think that meant lying to ourselves.”

Your voice cracked. “I wasn’t lying.”

“No?” He said, eyes searching yours. “Then tell me you don’t care about me.”

You blinked.

Tell him.

Say it.

But you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

And silence was the loudest answer of all. ~~ You didn’t speak for a week. No texts. No knocks on the door. No laughter through the walls.

It was excruciating. Even Joshua stopped teasing you.

“You okay?” Joshua asked one night, quietly.

You nodded. He didn’t press.

You sat at your laptop, staring at the blinking cursor. You hadn’t written a single word since the argument with Mingyu. It was as if you had lost your muse.

Worse—you might’ve lost him too. ~~ Another three days passed. You were walking home, umbrella flipping inside out in the wind, when you saw it: A plant. Sitting on your doorstep. A bonsai.

With a tiny note taped to the pot.

“Joshua told me you don’t like when plants have human names, but Lydia 2.0 says she misses you. -M”

You stared at it. Then you cried. Not a pretty, cinematic cry. A real one. Messy. Gutting. Cathartic. Because it wasn’t about the plant. It was about the space he left—and how much of you still lived in it. You knocked on his door the next day. No answer. You knocked again. Then again.

Finally, the door opened. Mingyu stood there, in a hoodie and sweatpants, eyes tired, expression guarded. 

You held up the note. “You’re still annoying, you know that?”

“Glad to know I still have that effect.”

You exhaled. “Can we talk?”

He stepped aside. You both sat on the floor. No pretence. No distance. Just you two, knees touching.

“I miss you,” you admitted.

Mingyu nodded. “I missed you, too.”

“I panicked,” you confessed. “I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling, and I ran. I always run.”

“And I push,” he said. “When I want something, I push hard for it.”

You looked at him. “This thing between us... it’s not just physical anymore.”

“No,” he said softly. “It’s not.”

You reached for his hand. “So what now?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Now, we start over. No rules. No games. Just us.”

You bit your lip. “And if I mess up again?”

“Then I’ll remind you why you chose me the first time.”

You laughed through your tears. “You’re really good at that, you know?”

Mingyu smiled, leaning forward until your foreheads touched.

“Let’s just take it slow,” you whispered.

He nodded. “Slow sounds perfect.”

And in the quiet of his apartment, with your hand in his and hope blooming in the wreckage. You realised this wasn’t a new chapter. This was the real beginning. ~~ “So, what’s the plan for the housewarming?”

Mingyu’s voice drifted through the doorway as you padded into his kitchen, still half-asleep in your oversized T-shirt, hair sticking up in odd angles. You squinted at him, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“What housewarming?” You mumbled, fumbling for your mug and the coffee pot.

Mingyu gave you a lopsided grin. “The one I said we should do this some time next weekend? Seokmin and Seungcheol hyung are finally settled in. So I was planning to invite some of our friends, it’d be a nice way for everyone to see the new place, and we can also invite your housemates too?”

You took a long sip of coffee, the caffeine finally beginning to wake you up. “Oh. Yeah, sounds good. Just drinks and stuff?”

“Yeah, keep it chill—drinks, music, maybe a game or two if Seokmin gets bored enough,” Mingyu replied, leaning back against the counter with that casual confidence of his.

You raised an eyebrow. “You know Seokmin’s going to demand karaoke. Are you prepared for that chaos?”

Mingyu snorted. “I’m mentally preparing. I’ll make sure we have enough soju to tolerate his high notes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a solid plan. Who’s handling the drinks and snacks?”

He gave you a thoughtful look. “I’ll handle the drinks, you take care of the snacks? That way I don’t accidentally buy a bunch of instant ramen and call it party food.”

You chuckled, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll make a list. You’ll just have to carry all the bags.”

Mingyu smirked. “That’s what I’m here for—manual labor and looking pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You do one of those things better than the other.”

He made a face. “Wow, that’s harsh. I’ll have you know, I can carry all the groceries in one trip.”

“Sure, Hercules,” you teased, pouring yourself another cup of coffee. “Are you inviting everyone from the building or just the usual crowd?”

“Just the usual. Maybe a few others from the floor if Seokmin gets carried away. You know how he is—an introverted social butterfly in a chaotic package,” Mingyu replied, shaking his head fondly.

You hummed in agreement. “I’ll handle the playlist then. Can’t trust you to not play EDM the whole night.”

Mingyu put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I have taste, okay? Just because I like a good bass drop doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate your acoustic love songs.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, if I hear one remix of a ballad, I’m kicking you out of your own party.”

He laughed, giving you a soft look. “Deal. I’ll keep it classy. Promise.”

As you both continued planning, Mingyu pulled out his phone, showing you a few decoration ideas. You couldn’t help but notice how excited he seemed about hosting—how he wanted everything to be perfect. It was endearing, really.

“So, we’ll get some fairy lights, right?” Mingyu asked, scrolling through a list of supplies.

You nodded. “Definitely. Maybe some cute string lights too, for the balcony. And I’ll put together a few cocktail recipes—something easy for people to mix themselves.”

Mingyu grinned. “You know, we make a pretty good team.”

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

He leaned closer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just make sure you save a dance for me, alright? Even if Seokmin’s singing ‘I Want It That Way’ at the top of his lungs.”

You snorted. “I’ll consider it—if you promise to at least try not to drink every cocktail I make.”

Mingyu chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “No promises. Your drinks are dangerously good.”

You gave him a soft smile, warmth spreading through you at his touch. As the two of you continued planning, you couldn’t help but think that this housewarming wasn’t just about the new place—it was about starting something new between the two of you, too.

~~ You were sitting on the living room couch, scrolling through your phone when you heard the front door open. Wonwoo stepped inside, holding a takeout bag, his shoulders looking a little less tense than usual after a long day at work. You looked up and gave him a small smile as he kicked off his shoes.

“Long day?” You asked, setting your phone down.

Wonwoo nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Presentation ran over time, and then the client had about a thousand questions.”

You gestured for him to sit next to you, and he plopped down on the couch, stretching his legs out. “Well, I’ve got some news that might cheer you up,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What now? You won the lottery or something?”

“Better,” you grinned. “There’s a party this weekend. Mingyu and his roommates are hosting a housewarming.”

Wonwoo gave you a skeptical look. “A party? At Mingyu’s place?”

“Yep,” you confirmed. “Seokmin and Cheol are finally settled in, and Mingyu thought it’d be a good idea to invite everyone over. Drinks, music, probably some weird games if Seokmin has anything to say about it.”

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds chaotic. But it could be fun.”

You nodded. “Exactly. Plus, it’s a good way to get to know everyone better. I already told Mingyu we’d be there.”

He gave you a sideways glance. “You sure about that? Joshua’s been swamped lately. Don’t know if he’ll be up for it.”

You mock pouted at him. “Come on Wonwoo, please?” “Fine, against my better judgement, fine.”

Wonwoo took a breathe and gave you scrutinising look. “So... what’s the deal with you and Mingyu?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, clearly not letting this go. “I mean, you’re now planning a party together? Isn’t that something incredibly couple like? Are you two a thing now or what?”

You hesitated, not sure how to put it into words. “We’re... figuring things out. It’s not really labeled or anything.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “You sure you’re not rushing into something? You haven’t really known him that long.”

You bristled slightly. “It’s not like that. We’re just spending time together, seeing where it goes.”

“Spending time, huh? You know that’s how people get feelings right?” Wonwoo said cautiously.

You frowned. “I’m not some lovesick idiot, you know. I know how to take care of myself.” Wonwoo raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I’ve you get hurt and cry over idiots, I don’t want crying over yet another guy.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a tiny seed of doubt planting itself despite your best efforts to ignore it. “Mingyu’s not like that, he’s kind, warm and compassionate.”

Wonwoo gave you a half-smile. “You sure not love sick?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded. Wonwoo gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading to his room.

Left alone with your thoughts, frustration bubbled under your skin. You didn’t want to doubt Mingyu, but Wonwoo’s words kept bouncing around your head. To dispel the tension, you found yourself cleaning the living room with more force than necessary, wiping down the coffee table and fluffing the pillows like they’d personally offended you.

After vacuuming the floor and reorganizing the bookshelf twice, you stopped to catch your breath, realizing how ridiculous you were being. You were annoyed—not just with Wonwoo, but with yourself for letting his words get to you. You couldn’t help it. Mingyu made you feel safe, seen and cared for, and Wonwoo’s word sowed a seed of worry in your mind. 

The sound of a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there stood Mingyu, leaning against the frame with a casual smile.

“Hey, the apartment door was open,” he greeted, his voice soft.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to muster a smile.

Mingyu’s eyes roamed the room, noticing the freshly cleaned space. “Wow. Did you go on a cleaning spree?”

You shrugged. “Just needed to do something to clear my head.”

He gave you a curious look, his smile fading a bit. “Something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to bring up what Wonwoo said. “Just... thinking about stuff.”

Mingyu stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Your heart squeezed at the simple, sincere gesture. You leaned into his touch, letting out a long breath. “It’s nothing, really. Just overthinking, I guess.”

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin. “You sure? I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine. Just... needed a distraction.”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up in a gentle smile. “I’m good at distractions.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. Mingyu’s presence had a way of making the chaos in your mind feel a little quieter.

“Stay?” You whispered.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Always.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, and without thinking, you closed the distance between your lips, kissing him softly. Mingyu responded immediately, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss was slow, unhurried—like he was taking his time to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you finally pulled back, Mingyu gave you a soft smile, brushing his nose against yours. “Feel better?”

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah. A lot better.”

Mingyu pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm hug. You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace push away the doubts that had threatened to take over.

[smallgodseries]

“It all started with a mouse,” that’s what they like to say, over and over again, like it’s somehow impressive.  You know what else started with a mouse?  A hell of a lot of hantavirus, that’s what.  You have mice, you generally call an exterminator, that’s all I’m saying.  But it won’t do you a lot of good, because the mice will get in anyway.  Or get out. Can’t keep mice in cages forever.  That’s not what mice were made for.

Still, they tried like hell, didn’t they?  They changed the rules so many times we pretty much had to throw out the whole rulebook and start over with a new one.  Commandment one: Thou shalt let us do whatever we want, because we’re always right, and if you disagree with us, you’re wrong.  That’s how you lock in the result you want.  You cheat.

Oh, they cheated.  Go ahead and say they did everything legally, but if you have two mice and one maze, and say the rules are the same for both of then, then lay a trail of spray cheese between one mouse and the finish line, while the other has to run it the ordinary way, well, that’s cheating whether or not there’s a rule against it.  Ask any first grader.  That’s the real trick: if a first grader knows you cheated, you’re not even being subtle about it.

They didn’t use spray cheese, of course.  They used money.  And they weren’t racing mice, they were racing legal arguments.  Money votes.  Anyone who tries to say otherwise just doesn’t have any money.

But it all started with a mouse, and from there, it evolved—or devolved—into corruption, greed, and the desperate need to keep being the only people who could solve the maze.  They got so busy changing the rules that they forgot the one rule they couldn’t change.  The rule they should have remembered.  The first rule of mice:

Can’t keep them out.  And that means you can’t keep them in, either.

Everything crumbles. ��Every mouse gets out.  And every story yearns to be free.  So tell me, now that you know it all started with a mouse, how are you going to write the ending?  I belong to you now, after all, as much as I belong to anyone.

But most of all, I belong to me.

********************************

For more information on Mickey Mouse entering public domain: https://variety.com/2023/biz/news/mickey-mouse-public-domain-disney-copyright-lawsuits-1235844322/

[tangerineastronaut]

hello can I get ateez members as doms? how they act with there subs in these relationship.

Dom!ATEEZ and Sub!Reader individual dynamics | ot8

Pairing: ot8 and their Dom!style Genre: ot8 reactions Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mentions of smut/sex/etc, discussion of punishments, dacryphilia A/N: what even is this I am so sorry this is so bad omg Please remember this is just my take. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to make your own! Don't take it personally 🫶🏽 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Hongjoong

Be afraid

^ When you’re bad (most of the time, u little shit)

Hard!Dom, strictest of the members

Brat tamer 100000% but doesn't want to be

Genuinely gets angry when you’re a brat, would prefer if you’d just listen to him

Punishments are meant to break you emotionally

Worst of all the members in that regard tbh

Will deny you things rather than physical discipline ~ praise, orgasms, affection

Wants you desperate and needy, it gives him control over you

Can forget to give you praise at times, does not get angry if you ask/remind him

“Ah, sorry. I’ve been busy, baby. Yes, I’m proud of you for going out today, I know you’ve been struggling recently. Did you eat at that cafe you liked? Did you remember to use my card? Why not? That's what it's for, love."

Blows money on you

Cannot stop buying you pretty things, especially clothes

Makes you try on the things he's purchased for you - usually ends with you getting fucked in whatever you had on last

Wants you to wear nice things when you go out to fancy dinners

Not very physically affectionate but will be if you need him to be

Will not punish you for being insecure, just wants to reassure you and make you feel beautiful

Sex is either quick and dirty or long and passionate

Fav positions are standing or missionary with your legs over his shoulders

Shower sex >>>

He's so damn busy there's not much other choice

Looks so fucking hot when he's got you pinned to the tile wall

Biting/marking - he loves to use his teeth on you

Don't you dare bite him back

Likes foreplay but prefers sex, is good at eating you out but would rather use his cock than his tongue

Is good at aftercare, though it's more of a standard, doesn't like pillow talk unless you need it

Will still make sure you're safe/comfy/loved and will do anything for you

Is rough, but can turn it off when he knows you need a softer side.

Seonghwa

Soft!dom

Gentle until he isn't

Strict, but not the strictest

Does not enjoy punishments as much as the others, but still wants to make sure you know your place

Does not understand the concept of being a brat, you're so good for him

"What do you mean no? Like no...what? I just asked you to come here, silly."

Rarely has to punish you anyway, he doesn’t have many rules

You break the rules on purpose sometimes

He’ll punish you harder if he thinks that’s the case vs you accidentally breaking a rule

Very snuggly

Will want you to just sit with him while he works with his legos

Loves to be held by you

Asks you for compliments

“Do you like this color on me?”

Will not scold you in public

Expect gentle touches and verbal correction

Hates seeing you cry, even if it's from an intense orgasm

Obsessed with aftercare

Will shower you with praise and tell you how well you did

"I'm sorry baby, I was rough today. Took me so well though, so pretty. Love it when you get on your back for me. Want me to wash your hair?"

Likes taking care of you in general, will mother you like his members (but worse)

"Why didn't you eat today?! C'mon, let's go to that noodle shop you like."

Sex is not super kinky but is almost always emotional

Pretty straightforward, wants you both to feel good and snuggle after

Likes getting head and giving head, but prefers sex over foreplay

Fav positions are spooning and intimate spaces like in a comfy chair with you in his lap

Soft kisses + him stroking your hair + thanking you for always being his good girl

Yunho

Cocky and playful

Neither soft nor hard, just likes to keep you guessing

Is silly unless he's in a bad mood

Likes to make you sit in his lap while he games

You like it too, he knows it

Will get pouty if you don't praise his efforts

Don't tease him while he plays

Fr don't

If you value your cervix, you will not tease this man when he's not in the mood for sex

"What's wrong, baby? You were whining for my attention, now you're whining that it doesn't fit? That's a fucking lie."

Size kink

Likes feeling bigger/taller/stronger than you

Expect to be teased over this, even if you're not that short

Loves taking selfies with you

A big puppy

Can be a big scary puppy

Doesn't scold you in public

Likes it when you know you're in trouble

Sweetheart but will do a 180

When he's stressed or in a bad mood he can be too rough

Sometimes it's hard to tell when it's okay to be silly and not

He will let you know

Breeding kink at its finest

Size kink + breeding kink = RIP ur ability to walk

"I know it's deep baby, shh...almost there..."

Likes making you beg

Loves to degrade you and then praise you in the same breath

Talks you through it

Very sweet, silly aftercare

Sex is not complete until you're a giggling, sleepy mess in his arms

Fav position is anything where he can manhandle you beneath him

Yeosang

Quiet dom

But not soft

Very strict but is not loud about it

Perfect brat tamer, but isn't one (you can't rile him up—most intuitive of the members and rarely rises to the occasion)

Most of his dominant side is only seen when you're alone

Does not scold you in public

Expects you to follow the rules and does not remind you

Goes straight to punishment

You cannot catch him off guard

Knows your moods before you do

Terrifyingly calm

"Is that how we're acting today? Okay."

Likes to edge you

Loves when you orgasm as soon as his cock goes in due to overstimulation

^ will continue fucking you anyway

Thinks you're prettiest when you're crying

"That good, huh? You're blushing baby...such pretty tears."

Fucks you sitting up, likes it when you cling to him and wants to feel your tears on his shoulders

Eye contact >>>

So fucking calm it's scary, truly

Like imagine you've fucked up in public and you know it, this mf just gives you the gentlest of smiles

He likes you anxious

Sex is deceptively rough

You would not expect it but he likes it to hurt

He wants you to fight back

That grip strength is not to be taken lightly

Fav position is missionary or in a car with you in his lap

Aftercare is pretty strict, he has a routine

Bathroom, water, bed, letting him hold you

Prioritizes you afterwards since he knows he can be rough

Wants you to tell him about your day as though he didn't just rail you into next tuesday

San

Very traditional dom vibes

Does not hold back on punishments like hwa

Expect an equal amount of praise and correction, heavily values both

Big on body worship, either you on him or vice versa

Will want you to kiss his chest and shoulders and remind him how safe he makes you feel

Protective, but not possessive

Best dom for daddy issues

Will tell you he's proud of you but fuck you into the mattress a few minutes later

^ while still telling you he's proud of you

Most fair punishments, typically physical but not cruel

Spankings, being made to take it on the floor, being tied down, etc etc

Loooooves tying you up

Huge on boundaries and safewords

All the members are but San prefers constant check ins

"How are we, baby? Can you still take it? Use your words, pretty girl."

Sex lasts a loooooong time from foreplay to aftercare

Like, expect to spend an entire evening in the bedroom

Only because he loves to warm you up beforehand with a few orgasms

Loves it when you orgasm

Edging is not necessary, he wants you to have as many as possible until you're overstimulated

Follows your lead during aftercare, whatever you need

"Did so good for me. What do you need from me, baby? A massage? I can do that. Love you so much. Did so well tonight."

Will let you sit in his lap while he works

Likes it when you tease him, but won't punish you right away

Makes you wait for it

"Hi baby. Remember what you did earlier? Let's figure out how to make you say sorry without words."

Fav positions are you in his lap or lying on the counter/table

Mingi

BRAT TAMER

and loves it

Will encourage you to act out just so he can punish you

Literally begging for a reason

"Please baby. Tell me no one more fucking time. The kitchen table is right there and I'm hard as fuck."

Mean and you love it

Is going to bend you over any surface when you give him the slightest inclination that you're about to act up

Effortlessly attractive, actually unfair

Genuinely does not know how wet you are simply because he's pinning you down

Lives for his own pleasure and you're along for the ride

DO NOT think he doesn't care about you getting off tho—

—and do not let that man's mouth near your pussy if you know what's good for your health

Addicted to eating you out

Mingi demands few things of you as his sub, but allowing him to ravish your pussy is a requirement

You WILL sit on his face and you WILL cry and he WILL hold your hips so you can't squirm away while he sucks your clit and makes you cum for the third time

Uses it as both a reward and punishment

That overstimulation will have you in tears

He does not care

Sex lasts a little longer than average simply because you have to pry him off of you

Impatient when it comes to you and your attitude

Punishment is always physical

Loves to spank you for misbehaving

Not the kinkiest but probably the most hypersexual of the members

LOUD sex

Aftercare is not really organized but still very involved. Expect kisses, a very clingy man, and cuddling

Loves you with your clothes on too

Can forget to give you praise, but shows you he's proud in his own ways

"You made this? Holy shit, it's amazing. My baby can cook??"

Kissing the top of your head, just because he can >>>>

Does not scold you in public—probably has not realized you've done something that warrants scolding

Is possessive and VERY jealous

Like Hongjoong, he knows when to turn it off if you need him to be gentle with you

Wooyoung

A fucking? brat dom?

Will ignore you for attention

You can't outbrat the brat

Big on silent treatment as long as he thinks you can emotionally handle it

Very touchy feely, likes grabbing you and holding you against him

Has a range of looks to give you to tell you when you've fucked up

Hates when other men stare at you, will absolutely stare back

Loves PDA the most out of the members

Does not care if you're in public, will scold you when needed

Will also tease you just to see you squirm

Is not above things like vibrating panties when you've been acting up

Loves to use his hands during punishment or praise

Expect handprints on your ass

May as well get them tattooed on there tbh

Whiny when he wants your attention

Can sometimes be too much

"Are you okay? Was that too hard?"

Likes to make you cry

Enjoys pissing you off since you can't do anything about it

Imagine getting fucked daily by your biggest opp

"Aww, are you mad? Huh? I can tell. Cry me a river while you take this cock, baby."

a menace, tbh

Sex is kinky af

DIRTY TALK mf won't shut up as it is and rambles when he's inside you

"Take it, baby. That's it, just like that. So fucking pretty. You just open those legs when I come near, huh? An obedient little slut when she expects cock."

Not super long sex but can happen multiple times a day

Possessive and jealous

Takes lots of pictures of you

^ Doing anything

"Hold still, I'm taking a pic. Can you tilt your head? Your toothbrush is in the way."

Aftercare is forehead kisses and praise, whining when you have to get up.

Big heart, loves giving you compliments and seeing you shine

Is infinitely proud of you and will not stop telling you so

Likes to do domestic things with you like cooking

Takes you on cute little dates rather than big fancy dinners

Do NOT let him hear you talking bad about yourself

Jongho

Loves being a dom the most

Similar to San, very straightforward, traditional dom

Unlike San, has a cruel streak

Basically a combination of Hongjoong and San

He feels the best when he spoils you

Wants you to buy anything you want

Obsessed with you fr

Wants to make love to you any time he can

Will pin you down but...romantically??

Master of seduction, likes you warm and ready for him

Takes you to fancy dinners and then fucks you in the car on the way home

Loves having his cock worshipped by you

Can eat pussy but prefers seeing your lips wrapped around him

Calls you good girl more than anything

"Did you take your medicine this morning? Good girl."

Isn't jealous at all

Doesn't have to be, he knows you're his

When he catches other men staring at you he feels proud like "yeah, she's mine."

Extremely physically affectionate but only in private

Gentlemanly in public, his hand is usually at the small of your back

In private he just wants to hold you

Loves picking you up

Will pet your hair and pull you in for kisses while he asks about your day

Loves your hair btw

Like, wrapped around his insane grip while he fucks you from behind

Dirty talk

"That's it, baby. Look so pretty like this. You've been wet all day, huh? Just waiting for me to get home and make it better? How many times did you touch that pussy thinking of me?"

Not super kinky, but sex is still intense

Does like to blindfold you occasionally

Likes it when he comes home from work to find you naked in bed, where you're supposed to be

"Is this for me?" he'll ask, sliding his hand over your bare ass.

Doesn't even get fully undressed before he's inside you, he's only impatient when it comes to you

Breeding kink but AUTHENTIC. Like, wants you pregnant (only when you're ready) will probably find you absolutely irresistible when pregnant

Aftercare is whatever you need but will always include water and cuddles

Very protective of you, scolds you for being clueless at times

"Why the hell did you take an uber? You should've just called me. Who knows what kind of people are out there!"

Will get angry with you but you're literally the gem of his life, he treasures you more than anything

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹

— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )

ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x

also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !

pair — reader x jing yuan

wc — ~1k

contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful

you couldn’t stand it.

the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.

you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.

what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.

you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.

“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”

he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.

“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”

you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.

but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.

the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.

“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”

“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.

“prove it.”

“wha–?”

“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.

“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”

“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”

jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.

he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…

“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.

he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.

you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?

jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.

you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.

“jing yuan, sir?”

a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”

those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..

you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.

he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.

“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”

why did you doubt him, even?

you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.

his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)

“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?

“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.

he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.

“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”

hsr masterlist ♥︎