#using the same name and art and everything

[smileysuh]

puppy boy

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, masturbation, mention of porn addiction, foreplay, ‘weird kinks’, massaging, breast worship, body worship, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, man handling, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of voyuerism, degradation, praise, dirty talk, Mingyu is a switchy simp, big cock Mingyu agenda, fingering, etc… I pet names: (his) puppy boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.8k 

🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, perv!Mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This is part 3 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand-alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and this Mingyu fic concludes the series. Find the completed masterlist here.

Prologue:

Mingyu had joined the Sigma Veta Tau frat for brotherhood, and at first, everything had been sunshine and rainbows for the Art major. He’d found friends that he knows will be lifelong mates, and it feels as if his family has truly grown at least another twelve members.

However, things have changed since he joined.

Now, two of his closest friends have started dating, and suddenly, the whole ‘Bros before hoes’ thing has gone out the window. 

Mingyu’s not mad about it per se, in fact, it’s kind of nice to see Seungcheol and Wonwoo enjoying life- but there are other factors to consider.

The first factor is that Mingyu no longer seems to have gym buddies. Turns out that tonight, instead of their usual Monday workout, Seungcheol and Wonwoo are at a double date business meeting. 

Which leads to factor number two. Wonwoo is a notorious camboy, and Seungcheol’s girlfriend is as well, in fact, Seungcheol’s girlfriend is BabyDoll246, who, up until recently, Mingyu used to watch religiously every time he needed to get his rocks off. 

Mingyu doesn’t even know what this whole ‘buisness meeting’ thing is about- Seungcheol is probably doing a presentation for everyone about numbers and aesthetics and how to make a ‘brand,’ because that’s what Seungcheol does. Even though the whole scenario sounds boring, for some reason, Mingyu wishes he was invited.

So things are a little complicated.

Mingyu feels jealous, and left out- and horny… there’s only so much distraction free weights can provide, so in order to distract himself, Mingyu begins to look at the people around him. 

Since the gym is on university property, there are a lot of cute girls his age. Most are scantily clad in booty shorts and sports bras, and Mingyu thanks god for feminism and the right to bare skin.

Then his eyes find you. 

You’re a frequent gym goer, like him, and Mingyu would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. 

You’re in one of those oversized tshirt and booty short combos that drive Mingyu wild- after all, what does your body look like under the fabric? 

He’s got a pretty good imagination, and Mingyu finds himself practically drooling as he watches you do some sets on a shoulder machine.

When you’re done, you stand up, reaching for your water. You turn to look at the gym as you drink, and your eyes meet.

Mingyu is quick to avert his gaze, his skin flushing with embarrassment at having been caught staring.

In an effort to further distract himself, Mingyu moves to the lying barbell section, where he begins to put weights onto either end.

“Hey.” Your voice draws his attention, and Mingyu’s heart almost leaps out of his chest to find you standing right next to him.

“Hi.”

“Where are your friends?” you ask, taking another sip of your water.

“My friends?”

“Yeah, those two guys you’re always here with.”

So you’ve noticed him too. “Oh, uh, they’re on a double date tonight,” Mingyu says shyly.

You nod. “Looks like you need a spotter then.”

“I’ll be okay-”

“The girl I usually come with broke her wrist at volleyball last week, so I’ll need a spotter too,” you tell him. “Maybe we can help each other out?”

Mingyu swallows thickly. “Yeah, uh, okay.”

It feels awkward for him to lie down on the bench, adjusting his hands on the barbell while he looks up at you.

He wonders how well you’d actually be able to spot him if something was to go wrong, but he supposes that’s not the point. In reality, he’s going to be helping you while you’re doing your sets more than you’ll be helping him, but Mingyu doesn’t really mind.

He’s never dropped a barbell in his life, and he’s not about to drop it now with a gorgeous girl looking down at him.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” you say.

“Mingyu,” he responds.

“What’s your major?”

“Art, you?”

“Funny, you don’t look like an artist,” you laugh. 

Mingyu cracks a smile. “What do I look like?” he asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know, but not an artist.” Mingyu continues his set and after a moment you speak again. “I’m in nutrition.”

“That explains it,” Mingyu says under his breath.

“Explains what?”

That you’re sexy as fuck.

“Uh, that, well, you know, you work out?” Mingyu stumbles over his words. “I mean, if you’re into nutrition, it makes sense you’re into the gym too.”

“I guess.”

Mingyu can tell from your smirk that you can probably guess his real reasoning, and he can feel his palms getting sweaty- suddenly, holding onto the barbell isn’t as easy as it usually is.

Mingyu realizes he may have overestimated his ability to keep things cool while you’re watching over him, and he pauses his set.

“You good?” you ask.

“Yeah, just uh, need water.” 

One: 

It’s been a couple of days since you met Mingyu at the gym, and you’re surprised to see him during a trip to the pool.

Once again, the beautiful man is alone, and you wait for him to finish swimming a lap so you can talk to him.

“Hey, stranger,” you grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You watch the way he swallows thickly, and you can practically see him fighting the urge to look at your swimsuit.

It’s nothing flashy, after all, you’re here to work out, not to show off. But you know Mingyu’s probably wondering what you look like under your baggy gym shirts, after all, he’s a man, so it’s not like he’s hard to predict.

“Hey,” Mingyu says. “Uh, how have you been?”

You shrug. “Been okay. Do you come to the pool often?” 

“Sometimes, if my muscles are sore. You?”

“My kinesiology buddy suggested I implement swimming into my routine, a similar thought pattern to you, better for the muscles and the body.”

You see Mingyu’s attitude shift. “I guess a kinesiology buddy would know a lot about that.”

It takes you a moment, but you realize that Mingyu must think your ‘buddy’ is a man, and that maybe you’re taken or on the precipice of a relationship.

God, Mingyu is so easy to read.

“She’s pretty smart,” you note, “my kinesiology buddy.”

Again, an entire emotional shift in Mingyu, and it would almost be laughable if it weren’t so cute.

This man has a schoolboy crush on you, that much is obvious. 

“So… where are your friends?” you ask.

“They’re with their girlfriends,” Mingyu sighs, and you get the sense that he’s not too happy about his workout buddies being more loved up than juiced up.

“Maybe we should just be workout buddies,” you suggest.

Mingyu’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

You shrug. “Why not? We have similar work out schedules already, it wouldn’t be that difficult to sync them.”

“I’d actually love that,” Mingyu admits, and you love how pretty and glowy he looks.

You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.

It’s not that you’re necessarily looking for a relationship, but you wouldn’t say no to one either.

Overall, you just want a connection with a man that’s not solely built on him pressing you for a one night stand, and as horny as Mingyu clearly is, there’s a shyness to him too, a shyness that draws you in. 

Two:

Mingyu’s at it again. He’s found a new camgirl to jerk over, but even as he watches the pretty brunette stroke her pussy, his mind keeps wandering to you.

You’ve been workout buddies for two weeks now, and God, there are so many instances and interactions that have gone straight into Mingyu’s spank bank.

There’s something about the way you look when you’re sweating- fuck, Mingyu could just lick it up if that wasn’t such a taboo thing to admit.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he puts his computer to the side, closing his eyes and imagining that you’re the one whimpering and moaning. 

Mingyu is man enough to admit that he’s a bit of a pervert. He knows it, he accepts it- he’s ashamed of it sure, but in that shame is something that only arouses him further. A certain type of obsession with self-degradation. He’s a bad boy, and being sinful only makes him harder as he strokes his cock.

He imagines you in the pool with water glistening on your skin- and that image turns into you in the gym doing dumbbells, sweat on your brow.

Mingyu groans, pumping himself harder. He can feel the tension building in his balls, the tingling sensation that’s beginning to brew.

He thinks about the way you encourage him to do more sets, the way he teases you that you’re his ‘drill sargent’ and you’ll sometimes aquiesce by telling him to drop and give you twenty-

Fuck, why are you so sexy?

Why does he want you to tell him what to do all the time?

He imagines what it would sound like if you told him to be a good boy and cum for you- and just like that, he pops.

Mingyu cums hard, a groan escaping him as he fist fucks himself through it, his hips shaking, sweat on his brow-

Mingyu can’t even bring himself to care that he’s cum all over his own chest, and as he finishes, he lets out a sigh, his hands falling to the bed next to him.

He’s so into you, and it’s not just your body. You’re an interesting person, and you’d sensed he needed a gym partner. Your presence has made the lack of Wonwoo and Seungcheol feel better, and that’s not something Mingyu will undervalue.

The only problem is… Mingyu’s one of the horniest men he knows, and he’s aware that his extreme sex drive may just be a problem. 

Three:

In the three weeks you’ve been working out with Mingyu, you’ve had enough situational awareness to see how other women in the gym stare at him.

And it’s not like you can blame the other girls, after all, you also used to look at him when he wasn’t going to notice.

Mingyu is hard not to look at, he’s just so big and pretty, and his muscles bulge like nothing else when he’s doing sets. 

The two of you are going hard today, and you’ve come to an agreement that for every ten sets you complete, Mingyu gets to ask you a question, and vice versa.

He’s asked you some regular run of the mill things, like your favourite movie, what inspired you to do the degree you’re working on- but then, out of knowhere, Mingyu asks, “Why are you single?”

Mingyu must notice the way you falter, your grip adjusting on the machine, and he’s quick to try to remedy it.

“I just mean, you’re pretty, and nice, and all that sort of stuff, so, I’m just confused,” he says.

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, trying to tailor your response to intrigue the pretty man. “I have a pretty big drive for physical sensation, if that makes sense. It’s why I gym a lot, and it can be intimidating for guys. Also, I’m not into the whole one-night stand thing, and that seems to be all men want these days.”

“Wait, you’re saying, you’re uh… your sex drive is too big for most guys to handle?” Mingyu chokes.

“I’m just a girl with needs who doesn’t put out unless we’re actually dating,” you shrug.

Hook, line, and sinker.

You can see Mingyu getting hard through his gym shorts, and he coughs awkwardly.

“Uh, let’s switch,” he suggests, and you almost want to laugh.

You acquiesce, and in his newly seated position, Mingyu is able to hide his boner from you, but you’ve already seen it, and confidence is now surging through you.

Mingyu does his first ten reps, and you don’t bother to start with easy questions.

“Why are you single?” 

You watch the way Mingyu swallows thickly.

“I uh.. Well, I’ve kind of got, sort of, um, weird tastes.” 

“Like what?” you ask, and to your annoyance, Mingyu makes you wait for another full set before answering. 

“I guess it’s the sort of thing you kind of have to see for yourself, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“But we’re talking about weird tastes in bed, right?”

Mingyu nods, his ears turning red.

“Look, I just told you I don’t fuck around unless it’s going in the direction of something more than fuck buddies or one night stands,” you tell him. “So, I’d love to see these ‘weird tastes,’ but only if you’re actually interested in something with me.”

It’s been three weeks of getting to know each other, if Mingyu’s not sure what he wants yet, then that’s on him. You’re being direct, and you’re not going to feel bad about that.

“I’m interested,” Mingyu confirms quickly.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Tomorrow is usually your rest day, and you’ve never really asked what Mingyu gets up to when you’re not at the gym or pool.

“Tomorow would be great,” he confirms.

“Then it’s a date,” you conclude. “Tomorrow you can show me these weird tastes that apparently make it hard for you to find a woman.”

“And maybe you can show me about this whole ‘drive for physical sensation’ thing you have.”

God, your panties are wet just thinking about it.

Four:

It feels a little odd to have Mingyu in your one bedroom on campus apartment. This is uncharted waters, and the usual social map that you use at places like gym and pool is no longer here to guide you.

The two of you know what you’re here to do, but it’s clear you’re both shy about it as you go to sit on your bed.

Being shy isn’t usually something you experience, but you also haven’t had a legitimate dating prospect in a while, especially not one as handsome as Mingyu, so you’re being careful not to mess anything up. 

You find yourself lying next to Mingyu, both of you looking up at your ceiling.

“So… tell me about your weird tastes?” you suggest.

He swallows thickly. “What if you tell me some of yours first?”

You laugh. He’s even more shy than you are. “I guess, manhandling is fun. Feeling small and being able to be thrown around is hot.”

Mingyu nods. “I like that you’re smaller than me too. But… I also kind of like that, when we’re at the gym, you get bossy with me.”

This is an interesting development, and you sit up, resting your elbow against the pillow so you can look at Mingyu while you brace your head with your palm. “So you’re not very dominant?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says shyly. 

“More into the whole ‘good boy’ thing.”

You note the way Mingyu reacts, his gaze meeting yours, his breath catching. “Yeah.”

“What else?” you prompt. “There has to be something else for people to consider your tastes ‘weird.’” He stays quiet and you lean forward, letting your lips ghost past his ear. “Be a good boy and tell me.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, and you note the way he’s begun to fidget with his fingers where his hands are resting on his chest.

“I guess… I’m really into porn? Which is horrible, I know it’s bad for your brain and stuff, but I really just can’t help myself. There’s this word for it, where you like to watch people-”

“Voyeurism.”

“Yeah, voyeurism,” Mingyu nods. “I don’t know, it’s like… watching other people, and, you know, touching myself while I watch-”

“Lots of people like porn,” you assure him.

“Yeah, but, I watch it a lot.” 

He’s looking at you now with an expression you’ve never seen on Mingyu’s face. It’s as if he’s waiting for something, and after a moment, you realize what it might be.

“You like the way it makes you feel,” you note, “how it makes you feel dirty, but you’re also eager to redeem yourself by being a good boy.”

“Exactly. I think it’s also because I’ve been single for a while, I mean, if I’m in a relationship with someone, I don’t think I’ll need to watch as much.” 

It’s definitely an interesting kink.

Sinning by watching porn, then proving yourself to be a good boy by doing sexual favours- or at least, that’s what you assume he means.

Mingyu is really just a puppy boy, and there’s something so adorable and endearing about this large, beautiful man, admitting these things to you.

Well, he’s told you he likes when you take control, so you muster up your confidence to take the reins.

“A lot of people in this university make sex videos,” you note. “If you do well tonight, if things go well between us, maybe one day we can make our own videos.”

Mingyu makes a choked sound, and you note the way his cock is starting to rise in his sweatpants. “Really?”

“Maybe, if you do well,” you repeat. “Why don’t…” you trail your finger across his cheek, “you show me what you’ve learned from all these educational videos you’ve watched?” 

Mingyu swallows thickly, and then he sits up a little. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can do anything you want.”

Mingyu is slow about it even though he now has permission. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, and he leans forward, eyes double checking you’re actually okay.

Even though you’d both known you were meeting up to fuck, he’s still being careful about it, and that makes you like him even more. A man who respects boundaries? Husband material for sure.

You appreciate that he’s testing the waters, but you’re eager to dive right in, so you make the final move.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his eagerly.

Mingyu groans, cupping your face to kiss you back.

He tastes good, and he’s not too forceful with his tongue, which gently strokes your lip to ask for entrance.

As you kiss, he shifts, slowly moving so he can be on top of you. Your legs open for him, and he slots against you.

You can feel how hard he is already, and when you tangle your fingers in his hair, he moans louder against you, rutting gently for stimulation.

Mingyu’s lips move to your throat, and he also teases your ear a little, which sends a shiver through you.

One of his hands slips under your shirt, and he grabs your boob over your bra, massaging you tentively.

“Take it off,” you tell him, arching your back in an effort to do it yourself.

Between the two of you, you’re able to remove your shirt, and you also remove your bra, making yourself bare to Mingyu from the waist up.

“You’re so pretty,” he muses, sitting up and looking down at you. Both of his hands find your breasts, and he begins to massage you. “Do you have any oil or anything?”

In preparation for this, you’d put a few sexy items in your bedside table, so it’s easy enough to reach for the coconut oil you have hidden there.

Mingyu drips some oil onto his hands, and then he begins to massage your breasts again.

The silky sensation of the oil makes you moan, and you relax against the bed, closing your eyes to enjoy it all.

You love a man who takes his time to worship you, and no one has massaged your chest in a very long time.

His thumbs brush over your nipples and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

When you look up at Mingyu, you find his gaze fixed to your chest, as if he’s bewitched by the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

You love how big his hands are, how soft and warm- 

Even so, you’re eager for more.

You haven’t had sex in a while, and your core is almost starting to hurt with anticipation.

This must be what blue balls feels like- or at least, the female equivalent, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around Mingyu’s wrist to make him stop.

“I know what your hands do,” you tell him, “but what about your mouth?”

You’re almost a little shocked at the confidence you seem to have gained, but being confident with Mingyu just comes naturally.

You know he’s man enough to take commands from a woman, in fact, he enjoys doing what he’s told, and something about that is so immensely sexy.

Mingyu shifts down the bed, and he hooks his fingers in your sweatpants, looking up at you for permission.

“Go ahead,” you nod.

The large, beefy man slowly slides your pants down your legs, and then he situates himself between your thighs. He starts by massaging your muscles, pressing kisses along your skin as he slowly works up to where you need him most.

You can feel his breath through your panties, and you shift against the bed, core throbbing already.

Then, Mingyu kisses you through the fabric, and it’s such an interesting sensation.

He begins to lick, pushing his tongue at your panties.

“Just take them off,” you groan.

Mingyu is quick to do as he’s told, and you lift your legs to make the process easier, leaving you completely bare for him.

Upon returning to his spot between your legs, Mingyu begins kissing your thighs again, and this time, as he slowly makes his way up to your pussy, you know there’s nothing standing in the way of him pleasuring you.

He kisses your clit, and the sensation makes you twitch.

Your hands snake down to grab at his hair, and he looks up at you. 

Something in his eyes tells you he really enjoys you having a hold on him like this.

“Show me what your mouth can do,” you repeat, body tense with anticipation. 

Mingyu wastes no time now, he dives in, and this time, he holds nothing back.

His tongue pushes into you, hot, puffy lips making full contact on your core as he licks and eats and slurps.

He’s a messy eater, and you actually kind of love it.

You love how lost he gets in it, how his eyes close, his hands gripping your thighs on either side of his head as he groans against your pussy.

Then you realize the rest of his body is moving too, his hips are wiggling, as if he’s looking for stimulus while he eats you out.

Fuck, he’s so hot- grinding against the bed, so turned on from giving you oral that he can’t even help himself.

“Just like that,” you tell him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes to focus on the sensation.

You’d been so wet and needy just from him massaging your breasts, and now that he’s eating you out- well, you know you’re not going to last long.

Some men don’t know what to do with a woman’s body, but Mingyu isn’t one of those men.

It looks like he has actually learned a thing or two from watching copious amounts of porn, which is kind of shocking if you’re being honest with yourself.

Mingyu shifts, and then a finger is pushing into your wet heat, his mouth now giving its full attention to your sensitive clit.

He pumps his digit in and out, and you can feel how wet and slick you are by the ease in which he fingers you.

One becomes two, and he adjusts his hand, his digits crooking up toward your g-spot.

You’re practically squelching now, and moans are escaping you without barriers. You want Mingyu to know how good he’s making you feel, and there’s no use in restricting yourself.

You begin to move, wiggling your hips so you can help him pleasure you, and your motions make Mingyu groan. He sucks your clit even harder, his hot tongue flicking the sensitive bud with more force as he fingers you.

“I’m close,” you tell him. 

Mingyu only moans in response, his motions getting faster as he worships your core.

You close your eyes, focusing entirely on the ecstasy he’s providing you.

Your muscles are getting tighter, your body preparing yourself for the orgasm that hits mere moments later.

You let out a gasp, your core clamping down on Mingyu’s fingers as pleasure erupts through you. It hits you in waves, making you moan and whimper at each contraction of your pussy around Mingyu’s fingers.

Your clit is ultra sensitive, but fuck, it feels so good-

Mingyu continues to eat you out as you cum, and it almost boarders on being too good- but you’re not about to push him away for being too good. 

Your hips are still wiggling, your body unconsciously wanting your orgasm prolonged- you’re a glutton for punishment and pleasure in that way, but you know Mingyu doesn’t mind.

Finally, you begin to push at Mingyu’s head, and he pulls away, looking up at you.

“Do you want another?” he asks innocently.

You laugh. “Want you inside me.”

“I am inside you,” he smiles, his fingers pushing in and out of you again, making an obscene squelching sound that has your skin heating with embarrassment.

“You know what I mean,” you tut.

Mingyu takes his digits out of you, plopping them in his mouth to suck clean while he groans. When he’s done cleaning himself off, he sits up. “So uh… condoms?”

“I’m on birth control, are you clean?”

“I’m clean,” he nods.

“Then fuck me.”

Mingyu starts by taking his shirt off, and you marvel at his toned muscles. This man works out at least four days of the week, and it shows.

He’s so sexy, you’re pretty sure you’re drooling, and you swallow thickly.

“Suck a pretty puppy boy,” you whisper.

“Puppy boy?”

“Yeah, you’re a puppy boy,” you insist.

He looks at you for a moment, and then you note the way his shoulders relax. “I like that.”

“Here,” you sit up. “Lie down.”

Mingyu does what he’s told, like any good puppy boy would, and you take control. 

“Lift your hips,” you instruct next, and when he follows through, you tear his sweats and his underwear off with one rough tug.

The biggest cock you’ve ever seen slaps up against his stomach, and your jaw drops.

“Holy shit.”

Mingyu flushes a pretty shade of pink. Leave it to him to be shy about how big his dick is as opposed to turning into a cocky piece of shit like most men would.

You can’t help but wrap your hand around him, bringing your mouth to his tip to suck on it.

Mingyu groans immediately, grabbing at your bed sheets as you begin to suck him off.

It helps that you’re practically drooling, but even so, he’s so large that you really can’t take a lot of him.

After a minute, you sit up. “Pass me the oil.”

He does as he’s told like the good puppy boy he is, and you coat your hand in the slick.

When you return to blowing him, you begin to pump what you can’t reach with your mouth, twisting and squeezing and teasing.

Mingyu groans louder, and you give the act of pleasuring him your all, as he’d just given you.

When a man treats you well, it’s only right that you treat him well in return, and something tells you that if things with Mingyu continue, there are going to be a lot of moments like this one.

You love sucking on his mushroom tip, teasing him endlessly as he groans and shifts below you.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Mingyu tells you.

You hum happily around him, and he moans even louder.

Then, you pull your mouth off of him, continuing your motions with your hand. “Part of me wants to just tease you like this for hours.”

“And the other part?” he asks.

“Wants to ride you.”

He swallows thickly. “Can… can you ride me, please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

You sit up fully, straddling him. But you don’t immediately put him inside of you, instead, you lean forward to kiss him, grinding down against his oil slicked cock so you can lubricate yourself.

You know this isn’t going to be easy getting him inside of you, after all, his cock is massive, but teasing both of you like this will make the process smoother.

Mingyu kisses you eagerly, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand and your hip with the other. He applies pressure to help you wiggle against him, and your oiled breasts make the whole situation extra nice and slippery.

Soon, Mingyu’s hips begin to twitch, and you know you’ve teased him long enough.

You reach between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock so you can line him up with your core.

You’re gentle with yourself as you sink onto him, taking just the tip at first to get used to the stretch.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, panting already.

“Be patient for me,” you tell him, taking another inch.

Mingyu decides to distract himself by grabbing your breasts, and he begins massaging you again, making you groan as you do your best to take more and more of him.

He toys with your nipples and a shiver of pleasure runs through you.

Another inch.

It’s good to be on top of him for your first time. You’re sure Mingyu would have been gentle if he was on top, but you’re happy to have full control of the penetration speed. Your core is twitching tightly around the massive intrusion, but you’re not someone who gives up. You take inch after inch until you’re finally fully seated on top of Mingyu.

You both groan desperately from the sensation, and you begin to swivel your hips.

“So deep,” you whimper.

“So tight,” he echoes back.

You lean over him again, pressing your lips to his so you can bounce up and down. Mingyu’s hands find your hips and he kisses you back desperately.

God, he feels absolutely unreal.

You pride yourself on being someone with a lot of stamina in bed, so you’re prepared to ride him until your thighs are burning- but then Mingyu begins to thrust up to meet you, and suddenly he’s hitting even deeper.

You let out a deep moan, staying still so he can fuck up into you.

And that’s when you decide you want to know what doggy with Mingyu feels like.

“Shit, okay, fuck,” you swallow thickly. “Want you to fuck me from behind.”

“Okay,” he pants.

You pull off of him, adjusting on the bed while he sits up to get onto his knees.

Your ass is in the air, but your lower body is close to the bed, back arched.

Mingyu brings his cock to your wet hole, and he slowly pushes in. Your core is absolutely soaked, and it’s easier for him to enter you now than the first time.

Soon, his front is flush to your back, and he grabs your hips.

“Okay, fuck me,” you tell him.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any time, he begins to rut into you. His grip is tight on your skin, and he pulls you back to meet each thrust.

He’s so deep that you’re seeing stars. Sounds are leaving your mouth that you’ve never heard come from you before.

Each thrust is magic, filling you unlike anything else ever has.

You’d mentioned you like manhandling, and this is what you were talking about.

You can feel Mingyu’s power in the way that he’s pulling you back and forth like a rag doll. There’s something so sexy about allowing a man the chance to use you, about being the one in control even while he decimates your pussy.

You can feel your orgasm begining to bubble up inside of you again, and you know from the sounds Mingyu’s making that he’s probably close to- after all, you’ve got to cum once, but so far, all of this has been foreplay for Mingyu.

“I’m getting close,” you whimper.

“Me too,” Mingyu admits. “Lay flat for me.”

It takes a moment to resposition, but now you’re on your stomach. Mingyu’s still fucking you, but now he’s laid over your back. His breath is hot against your throat and you turn your head so Mingyu can press his lips to yours.

He’s straddling your closed legs, but your back is still slightly arched so he can enter you easily.

This angle has him hitting spots you’ve never had touched, and it feels like heaven.

Your bodies are fully pressed together, there’s no distance like in doggy, and you love that this will be the position you both come in.

It’s close, but your back is still to him, so it’s not as vanilla and domestic as something like missionary.

Mingyu’s groaning more and more, and you echo his sounds with whimpers of your own.

“Shit,” Mingyu cusses. “I want to cum with you.”

“Then cum for me, I’m so close,” you whimper. 

“Fuck,” he groans again, fucking you even harder.

The whole bed is rocking, but that only turns you on more as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m almost there,” you whimper, body tensing on the verge of ecstasy.

“Me too, me too,” he moans.

He presses his lips to yours and that sends you over the edge.

Your core clamps down hard on his cock and Mingyu moans desperately, his cock twitching inside of you before he explodes.

The orgasm is all-consuming, and every sensation is Mingyu.

He does his best to fuck you through it, but you know that he’s overwhelmed like you are.

No orgasm has ever felt this good, and your core continues to milk Mingyu, filling you up unlike anything else.

“Shit, shit-” he groans, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your shoulder, panting desperately as you both try to come down from your highs.

He lays on top of you like this for a while as you both recollect yourselves, and then, he lets out a sigh.

“Give me like, five minutes, and some time to massage you again, and I’ll be able to do round two.”

He’s as insatiable as you are. Sure, he’s a little weird, but who isn’t. You’re kind of weird too, but at least your weirds seem to work together, and you kind of love it. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here, and Seungcheol's chapter is here.

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. Mingyu had told you about some ammature porn videos where there’s some ‘sir pussy licker’ or something, and how a bunch of his content is just eating out his girlfriend and making her squirt- so of course, Mingyu wants that to be a major part of the content you make.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex tape, multiple reader orgasms, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, overstim, squirting, breast worship, body worship kink, dirty talk, praise, mentions of self inflicted edging, mentions of cock rings and other things, big dick Mingyu agenda, etc…   I petnames. (his) Puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve been with Mingyu for about six months now, and true to your word when you’d started seeing each other, the two of you have made a few sex tapes for your eyes only.

Mingyu’s absolutely obsessed with you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

The two of you are lying in bed after filming a new thing for the two of you, and Mingyu releases a breath. “Maybe… maybe we should start actually doing the whole cam thing,” he suggests.

“Yeah?”

“You know, make money.” 

“How much do you think we could make?” you ask, not fully opposed to the idea.

“I have two friends who do the whole solo cam show thing,” Mingyu admits. “They both bring in a lot of money, but they also do solo stuff. If we made stuff together, our target audience could be bigger.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@meowniee - @learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi

I'm also taggling those who I thought might like this :)

@bobathi - @amazinggraxia - @bluempire425-blog -

@twililty - @cheolaholic - @babieculture

@meowniee - @ridenotpark - @ollieollieoctopus

@axo-l0tl - @blspphr3 - @roseandpeaches

[mirersc]

“Hey, isn’t that Tails?” the kit’s ears perked up at the mention of his name, his namesakes wagging the slightest. He was recognised. This rarely happened. And chaos was he excited as he watched the duo eyeing him with interest. It felt nice. Maybe they were admiring him? If so, Tails would have a hard time fighting off his blush if he wasn’t flushed already. Alright, all he had to do was be calm and smile. Answer a few questions and send them off with a cheeky response? Or maybe they would want a photo with him? While he wasn’t known for being photogenic he wouldn’t say no to- “Yeah! Quick, let’s catch up to him to ask about Sonic.” Tails paused in his tracks, suddenly the smile from before falling into a flat line. Oh.. So that’s what they wanted him for. For Sonic.

... ... ...

Post-Frontiers:: Tails has set out on an adventure on his own and decides to settle down in Spagonia to help around Professor Pickles. While there however it is difficult to adjust when others think they know you already. Tails decides to change his identity so as to blend better in the new city, but what happens when the lie sticks longer? Is Sky here to stay?

⧼�� ʚ˒📌˓ɞ ⧽⧽

Heya, guys!! Guess who is back for another year in STH Big Bang 🎇

Unfortunately like last year life was busy with finals at the corner and my interest kinda flicked out the last month and so i am again with an incomplete result. BUT unlike last time I have all the outline written for this specific story so when I find inspiration i will complete this work full speed ahead. So no worries for not seeing this one with a proper ending.

🛩️ HUGE REGARDS AND THANK YOUS TO ATTI, QWIO & ACEY FOR STICKING WITH ME AND FOR THEIR GREAT SUPPORT, INPUT AND IDEAS! 🛩️

They made the fic happen and each one of them was a crucial part to the team! Thread 55 wouldn’t be the same if one of them was missing. And you guys made everything berable and kept me going even if finals crushed me. It was truly an honour and a joy to work alongside you all.

There was as well another artist that had helped prior with this fic, especially with Sky’s design alongside Qwio but unfortunately dropped out a few months ago. But i still truly appreciated them! So Helpic @helpik thx for your outstanding work as well :))

Now proceeding with the stars ⭐⭐⭐ ! Be sure to give a follow to those great people :)) 💥

• @qwiopty (Qwio)

• @mirroredgiraffe (Atti)

• @ziplockd (Acey)

ART 🎨 ( okay we aren’t gonna let you starve, hehe )

✪ 🔗 art :: by Qwio

✪ 🔗 art :: by Acey

Again we all hope you enjoy the final content and that Sky leaves quite the impact -a good one-. Remember everyone, we gotta love all aspects of ourselves. Each one of them compliment our character and make us who we are.

✪ The link to the fic on AO3 🪛🛠🔧

And this sums it up! Stay safe you folks whenever you are. Congrats to the Mods for seeing through this event - special love to mod Ven for taking care of our thread and for answering any questions of mine when I was in a stalemate - . We all wouldn’t be here without them.

🔷🔸HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONIC T. HEDGEHOG 🔸🔷

[imsosoheee]

lose my cool, (3)

wc: 3.2k | pairing: artstudent!eunseok x fem!reader (art student) | content warnings: crying (a mental breakdown), lots of angst, soft smut, emotional sex, fluff !, love

pt. 1 pt. 2

you weren’t used to silence from him. even when you ignored him, even when you pushed him away, eunseok always found a way back. a text. a stare. a hoodie he left behind.

but this time, nothing. no messages. no glances. no name blinking on your screen in the middle of the night.

you couldn’t stop thinking about the girl you saw him with. you kept replaying it in your head—her laugh, the way she held onto his sleeve like she had the right to. you told yourself it didn’t matter. but you found yourself checking who he followed. checking his art page. rereading the last message he ever sent you.

see you in class

you hadn’t seen him since.

your friends invited you out. again. you said yes. again. you dressed like you wanted to be seen—hair curled, tiny skirt, lined lips, nothing casual about it. someone flirted with you within five minutes of arriving. he looked good. said the right things. called you beautiful.

you kissed him outside, just to prove you could. but when his hand gripped your waist, you pulled away.

“what?” he asked.

“nothing,” you lied. “i’m just... tired.”

you weren’t—you were hollow.

you went home and sat on the edge of your bed for fifteen minutes before you moved. pulled on one of eunseok’s old hoodies without thinking about it, then you laid down in the dark and stared at your phone. your thumb hovered over his name.

you typed.

are you awake?

you erased it and typed again.

i miss you

erased that too.

you threw your phone across the bed and covered your face with both hands. what the hell were you doing? you had what you wanted: no strings, no complications, just sex and space and silence. but now the silence was unbearable. you curled up under your sheets and hated how cold it felt.

he used to stay after—not always and never for long, but sometimes he’d lie there and trace circles into your back until you fell asleep. you hadn’t let anyone else do that—not once. you didn’t text him that night, but you didn’t delete the drafts either. you just let them sit there—unsent, unfinished, like everything else between you.

you stayed in for the weekend. no texts sent. no stories posted. you didn’t do your makeup. didn’t wash your hair. you wore the same hoodie for three days straight—the one that still smelled like something warm and safe. like him.

your room looked like a before picture. empty cans on your desk, laundry you didn’t fold, notes scattered across the floor like pieces of someone else’s life. you told yourself you just needed rest. but you weren’t tired. you were aching.

you tried to sketch for the first time in a while. the page stayed mostly blank. every time you picked up the pencil, your hand froze. you didn’t know how to draw anything that didn’t feel like him.

his eyes, his hands, his voice. the way he said your name when you were half-asleep. the way he looked at you like he wanted to know what was under all your armor and didn’t mind how long it would take. you put the pencil down, rubbed your eyes and pretended you weren’t about to cry.

you started remembering all the little things: the way he always waited for you to speak first. the way he never touched you unless you touched him first. the way he kissed you slowly—like he was trying to memorize every version of your mouth.

you remembered how he laughed when you teased him. how his voice always dropped a little when he said your name. how he looked at you like maybe—just maybe—he could’ve loved you if you let him. you didn’t let him—you knew that now.

you’d spent so long running from the idea of love that you didn’t realize it had been standing still beside you this whole time. and now you’d lost it. you pushed him away with your hands and your mouth and all the words you didn’t mean. you told him you didn’t care, and he believed you.

you curled up under your blanket, phone clutched in your hand, screen dim. you wanted to text him. you wanted to tell him you were wrong. that you lied. that it did mean something. that maybe it meant everything. but your fingers wouldn’t move.

not yet. not like this.

this was supposed to be easy: you didn’t do love, you didn’t do feelings, you didn’t let people in. but he had walked into your life so quietly you didn’t realize you’d left the door open. and now it was empty again. and you had no one to blame but yourself.

when you saw him again, you didn’t mean to be there. you’d forgotten your headphones in the studio two days ago—left in the corner during a late-night sketch session you barely remember starting. you didn’t want to go back. not because of the walk, not because of the mess. but because it used to be your place. his place. your place with him, and now it wasn’t anything.

you told yourself you’d go early and that no one would be there—in and out.

the door creaked open with that familiar hum—the hinge that always needed fixing, the faint smell of paint and old paper and coffee. you stepped inside, the hallway cool against your skin. your hoodie hung off one shoulder, hair tied back in the laziest way, your face bare.

you looked like you felt: tired, quiet, emptied out. you found your headphones on the far table, right where you left them. beside a few abandoned sketches. one of them looked half-finished. messy cross-hatching. unfinished hands.

you picked it up before you realized it wasn’t yours. it was his. your heart jolted. and then you heard the door open again. footsteps. you didn’t turn around. you didn’t need to. you knew that sound better than your own voice. “yn.”

his voice hit you square in the chest. you turned. he looked—worse than you remembered.

his eyes were darker, ringed with exhaustion. his hair was longer, a little unkempt. he was wearing the same gray hoodie you once slept in, the sleeves still fraying at the edges. but it was his face that wrecked you—because the moment he saw you, something in it cracked open.

“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” he said, voice low.

“me neither.”

silence stretched between you. not awkward, just heavy. you held up the headphones. “i left these.”

he nodded. your eyes flicked to the sketch on the table—the one you were still holding.

“is this—”

“you,” he said quietly. you swallowed.

“it’s not done.”

you looked at it again. soft lines. too much detail around the mouth. like he’d drawn it a hundred times.

“it’s good,” you said.

he shook his head. “it’s not real.”

you looked at him. really looked at him. and you saw it—all the weight in his eyes, the silence in his shoulders, the way he wouldn’t meet your gaze for too long. he missed you. maybe as much as you missed him.

you didn’t know what to say, but you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking. “all of your jackets are still at my place.”

his eyes flicked to yours.

you shrugged, trying to play it off. “i never washed them.”

his expression didn’t change, but his voice did, soft and breaking. “why are you telling me that?”

you stepped forward. “i don’t know,” you said. “i just... haven’t been able to move them.”

the studio was too quiet. his hands were curled into fists at his sides. like he was holding himself back.

“you look like shit,” you said before you could stop yourself.

he laughed—sharp and dry and surprised. he looked like he might cry. “so do you,” he said.

you smiled. it didn’t reach your eyes.

neither of you moved. but for the first time in weeks, the space between you felt alive again. not fixed or healed, but open. and that was enough—for now.

a week later, you broke. it started as a normal day. gray skies, unfinished assignments, silence where his voice used to be. a professor brushed off your work in critique. your group forgot you were supposed to meet. a guy you used to talk to saw you on campus and didn’t say hi and just kept walking.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. you weren’t close to any of them. you didn’t need anyone. but by the time you got home, your hands were shaking. and when you closed the door behind you, your eyes were already wet.

when the rain started outside, you were already grabbing your keys and running out into it—hood down, feet slipping, no umbrella, no plan. just him.

you didn’t knock right away.

you stood in front of his door, soaked through, breathing hard, water clinging to your lashes. it was stupid—you knew that. maybe he wasn’t even home. maybe he didn’t want to see you, but your fingers moved before your mind caught up.

one knock.

pause.

another.

a shuffle from inside. then—his voice. muffled, then closer. “who—?” the door opened, and there he was—soft tee. damp hair. surprise and worry blooming in his expression simultaneously.

“yn?”

you didn’t speak. you just looked at him, and then everything spilled out of you all at once. your chest caved. your hands trembled. your eyes blurred. you tried to say something, anything, but no words came.

he stepped forward instinctively. “hey—wait, what—”

your voice cracked. “i miss you,” and then you were crying—full-body, shaking, soaked-through kind of crying.

he didn’t hesitate. he pulled you in, arms wrapping around you like it was muscle memory. like his body had been waiting to hold you again. “it’s okay,” he said, again and again, into your hair. “you’re okay. you’re okay.”

you weren’t, but with his arms around you, you almost felt like you could be. he sat you down on the couch and handed you a towel. you didn’t stop crying right away. he didn’t ask why. he just sat there with you, letting the silence fill the room, his fingers brushing yours every so often. not pushing. not demanding. just there.

and when your breathing finally slowed, when the worst of it had passed, you turned to him and whispered, “i’m sorry.” his eyes flicked to yours, unreadable and quiet. “i should’ve said it a long time ago,” you added. he didn’t say anything, so you kept going.

“i was scared of feeling too much and losing control. of needing someone.” you looked down at your hands. “but the worst part?” your voice cracked again. “i still lost you anyway.”

he inhaled—deep, shaky. you turned your head and met his eyes.

“it wasn’t just fun. it wasn’t casual. maybe… it was love. i don’t know what it was, but i know it hurt more than anything when you stopped showing up.”

his jaw clenched. “i never stopped,” he said. “you just stopped letting me in.”

you nodded. tears welling again. “i know.”

he looked at you for a long time. then, softly: “so why are you here now?”

you didn’t answer right away. then, slowly, honestly: “because this hurts more. i need you, eunseok.”

he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since the day you pushed him away. and then he reached for your hand—not pulling you in. just holding it. and you let him.

for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

you just sat there—wet hair clinging to your cheeks, the air between you warm and heavy, like something alive. like something begging to be felt. then, quietly, like a breath you’d been holding too long: “can i stay?”

he didn’t hesitate. “yeah.”

you turned toward him. his thumb brushed a strand of hair from your face, slow, careful, like he was afraid you'd disappear again if he moved too fast.

your eyes met, and in the space between you lived every night you touched without talking, every morning you left without looking back, every version of love you didn’t know how to name. “i meant what i said,” you whispered.

his voice came quiet, nearly breaking. “i know.”

you leaned in first, mouth brushing his with a kind of desperation you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. it wasn’t a kiss—it was a question. an apology. a confession.

his hands found your waist like he’d been aching for it, holding tight, dragging you closer, closer still. and when he kissed you back, it wasn’t soft—not this time. it was unsteady and starved. years of tension, of denial, of longing, crashing open all at once. he kissed you like he was angry at himself for still loving you. you kissed him like it might fix everything you broke.

you climbed into his lap, your soaked hoodie clinging between you, your legs bracketing his hips as if your body remembered this better than your heart did. your hands gripped his shirt like you were drowning—like he was the only thing anchoring you to the world.

he gasped when your hips rolled down once, sharp and aching. his head tipped forward, forehead pressed to your shoulder, trying to breathe through it.

“i missed you,” he rasped, voice wrecked against your skin.

you breathed his name, whispered into the shell of his ear like prayer, like punishment. his hands slid up beneath your hoodie, warm and reverent, tracing the curve of your back, the softness of your sides. you dragged his shirt off in one motion, letting your hands roam over his chest like you needed to memorize it again.

when his mouth found yours again, it was slower—hungrier. he stood up with you in his arms, lips never leaving yours, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. he carried you to the bed like it was something sacred. like you were.

he peeled your clothes off one by one, kissing the skin he uncovered like every part of you deserved to be remembered. you touched him like you were afraid this was the last time. he touched you like he was afraid it wasn’t.

“you’re shaking,” he said, voice hoarse.

“i’m scared,” you admitted, bare beneath him, heart wide open. his hand curled around your cheek, his thumb brushing a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“i am too.” you let him kiss you through it—through the fear, through the grief, through everything you’d buried beneath sharp words and colder silences. his body settled against yours, every inch of him pressed to you like a vow. you didn’t look away. you didn’t hide.

when he finally pushed inside you, it was slow, devastating—like he wanted you to feel every inch, every second. you gasped his name, fingers digging into his shoulders, hips tilting to meet him.

“you’re okay,” he whispered, “i’ve got you.” and he did—hands steady on your waist, his breath stuttering in time with yours.

he moved like he wanted to map you from the inside out, like he was trying to write the words he never got to say across your skin. your mouths met again and again, tangled in sighs and apologies and the kind of longing that didn’t need language. you told him you were sorry without saying it. he forgave you with his hands.

you wrapped your legs tighter around him, let yourself fall completely. he kissed your chest, your throat, the underside of your jaw, whispering things you couldn’t catch, but felt all the same.

when it ended, you didn’t move.

his chest was flush against yours, heart hammering in tandem. your fingers were tangled in his hair. your breath caught. he looked at you like you were the only person he’d ever wanted to see after the storm, and for once, you didn’t feel like running. you didn’t feel broken. you felt known.

you felt home.

the morning light was soft and gray, pressing faint patterns onto the ceiling. you woke up first.

his arm was around your waist, steady and warm. your cheek rested against his bare chest. his breathing was even—calm in a way you hadn’t felt in weeks.

for a moment, you just stayed like that. you memorized the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers. the curve of his collarbone. the way his hand tightened slightly in his sleep when you shifted. he didn’t leave. he could’ve, but he didn’t. and neither did you.

he stirred when you sat up, blinking slowly , still half-asleep, hair falling into his eyes. “hey,” he said, voice thick and raspy.

you looked down at him. “hi.”

a beat passed. “you stayed.”

you nodded.

he reached up—gently—and brushed his fingers down your spine. it sent a shiver through you.

“how do you feel?” he asked, softer now.

you searched his face for a sign of regret. but there was none—just warmth, and something else. something cautious, like he was afraid to say too much too fast.

“like everything hurts,” you said honestly. “but... lighter.”

his eyes flicked to yours. “lighter?”

you smiled a little. “like maybe i don’t have to pretend anymore.”

he looked at you like that meant more than you’d said. maybe it did.

he made tea. you sat on his couch in his hoodie—your hair still wet from a quick shower, legs pulled beneath you, watching the way his hands moved. familiar, careful. he handed you a mug without speaking. you wrapped both hands around it. “i still have your lighter,” you said quietly. he glanced at you.

“from that night. i almost gave it back a hundred times. but i didn’t.”

he nodded, eyes on the rim of his cup.

“i kept it on purpose,” you added, like it mattered. “i think... i wanted to hold onto something.”

his voice was low. “me too.”

the silence that followed didn’t feel like tension anymore. it felt like possibility. you turned to face him fully. “what happens now?” he let out a slow breath. “i don’t know,” he admitted.

you laughed—tired, but real. “you’re supposed to have all the answers.”

he smiled. “i’m just figuring it out too.”

you reached for his hand. this time, he didn’t hesitate. you linked your fingers with his and squeezed. “can we start over?” you asked. he didn’t speak right away. but the way he looked at you—quiet, soft, sure—said enough.

“yeah,” he said. “we can.”

being with him felt different now—not louder or bigger, just quieter. like a room you hadn’t stepped into before. familiar and unfamiliar all at once. soft morning light, unmade beds, half-drawn sketches on the floor.

you didn’t sleep over that often. not yet, but you stayed longer now. you stayed for coffee. for late-night ramen. for the way he pulled you in absentmindedly, his hand brushing your hip when he passed, like he couldn’t help it anymore. you caught him staring at you in class once. he didn’t look away this time, and neither did you.

it was raining again the night it happened. not heavy. just the soft kind that tapped on windows and made the whole world feel a little slower. you were curled up on his couch, your legs draped across his lap, your face pressed to his shoulder. his fingers traced idle shapes along your thigh. not suggestive. not even intentional—just habit.

you broke the silence first. “do your friends know?”

he glanced at you. “about us?”

you nodded. he gave a half-smile. “some.”

“what do you tell them?”

“that it’s complicated.”

you swallowed. “is it?”

he didn’t answer right away. then: “not to me.” you sat up a little, the room suddenly too quiet.

“what are we, then?”

eunseok looked at you. not flinching. not retreating—just waiting.

so you asked, softer this time: “what do you want?”

he reached for your hand and held it gently, like it might disappear.

“i want something real,” he said. “with you.”

you stared at him.

“i don’t know how to do that.”

he nodded. “i know.”

“what if i mess it up?”

“you will.”

you blinked.

he smiled. “so will i.”

your breath caught.

“but i’d rather mess it up with you than not try at all.”

you looked down at your joined hands. his thumb brushing slowly across your knuckles. no pressure. no push. just an answer.

“okay,” you said. “then i want that too.”

he leaned in and kissed you like it meant something. this time, you didn’t pull away.

you didn’t plan to spend the whole day with him. you’d brought your laptop over that morning, said you’d stay for coffee and maybe sketch beside him while he worked. but one hour became two. then three. and by the time the sun dipped behind the buildings, your charger was stretched across the floor, his hoodie was hanging off your shoulder, and your sketchbook was untouched. you didn’t care. he looked at you like you were the only thing worth paying attention to anyway.

he made lunch while you scrolled through your phone on the couch. nothing fancy—just leftover rice, an egg, and the kind of seasoning packets only college students kept stocked.

you offered to help, but he said you’d burn something. you flipped him off and he kissed your forehead in return. the eggs turned out a little too soft. you told him they were perfect anyway. he caught you smiling between bites and asked, “what?”

you shrugged. “this,” you said. “feels nice.”

he smiled. “yeah. it does.”

after lunch, you sat on the floor with your back against the couch, and he sat behind you, legs stretched out on either side, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. your fingers toyed with the frayed hem of your shorts while he skimmed a reading for class.

you didn’t talk much. you didn’t need to.

he shifted once, just to kiss the top of your shoulder. quick. like breathing. you leaned back into him without thinking.

around six, you both wandered down the street for a sweet treat. you held his hand this time.

it felt strange at first—public. loud in a way you weren’t used to. but he didn’t hesitate, and that made it easier. people didn’t stare. no one said anything.

and when you caught your reflection in the shop window—his hand in yours, your head tilted toward his shoulder—you didn’t look away.

he let you pick out whatever flavor ice cream you wanted, holding it while you took the first bite. you smeared ice cream on the corner of his mouth on purpose. he rolled his eyes and kissed you anyway.

you ended up back on his couch, curled up together under a blanket that didn’t cover either of you properly. the drama you half-watched played reruns, your phone battery blinked red, but neither of you moved.

his fingers traced lazy circles on the inside of your wrist. your voice broke the quiet. “do you remember what that girl at the festival said?”

he blinked. “which one?”

“during the balloon game.”

he smirked. “the one who asked if we were dating?”

“yeah.”

“and said people like us always end up together?”

you looked at him. “do you think she was right?”

he paused, then reached for your hand again—slower this time, deliberate.

“yeah,” he said. “i think she was.”

and you let yourself believe it.

it had been a long day—group work, class critiques, your backpack too heavy with things you didn’t need. he met you after your last class, tea in hand, fingers brushing yours as he passed you the cup. you let him hold your bag while you complained the whole walk to his apartment. he didn’t say much—just smiled, listening like he always did, like it mattered.

maybe that’s what did it. maybe it was the way he let you be tired. the way he made room for you without asking. the way he didn’t try to fix it. you kissed him as soon as the door closed. it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t about relief or want. it was quiet and certain.

his hands found your waist slowly. your mouth moved against his like you’d done it a thousand times—but this time, it felt like arriving. he pulled you closer, his touch more assured now, less hesitant. like he finally believed you were his. you guided him back to the bed without breaking the kiss.

he let you take your time.

your shirt hit the floor first. his fingers ghosted over your ribs, your spine, your neck—like he was learning you again, piece by piece. when his lips met the skin just below your collarbone, you exhaled sharply.

“you okay?” he murmured, breath warm.

you nodded. “don’t stop.”

so he didn’t. you moved together, familiar with the other. his touch was reverent, his kisses slow and searching. he held you like he wanted to honor you, because this was never about proving anything. you whispered his name more than once, and he said yours like a promise.

when you finally collapsed beside him, your chest rising and falling in sync, you realized you weren’t afraid anymore. you were safe. you were seen. for the first time, you didn’t want to run from that.

later, while he dozed beside you, you slipped from the bed—still wrapped in one of his hoodies, legs bare, hair messy from his fingers. you picked up your sketchbook and sat on the floor in the quiet hum of early evening. you started to draw.

you didn’t overthink it this time—no erasing or sketching over or hesitating. you just let your hand move: his jawline. his lashes. the faint curve of his smile when he looked at you like you were something he couldn’t believe was real.

this time, you didn’t hold back. you finished the piece in one sitting, titling it at the bottom of the page:

lose my cool.

you didn’t show him yet, but you would. because now you knew what it was: not love at first sight. not a perfect story. just something real—messy, quiet, honest.

yours.

a/n: thank you all for reading and finishing my first fic!! this was also my first smut :000 lmk how it was!! i thought it was pretty beautiful... soft and emotional and angsty. i love eunseok... stay tuned for more :)

🔖: @hrtfelt4u @karebearyu @jaellymint @thevirginsuicidenotes

[fictionrealms]

Hide & Seek->Prologue

Sylus x MC x Caleb

TW:

depictions of grief, self neglect, depictions of depression, depictions of loss, obsessive behavior, smut (in the future), self doubt, self loathing, more tags to be added, MDNI

Summary:

Life was meaningless now that he's gone. Only visiting me in the long hours when I refuse to sleep. I've long since given up the fight. What was the point anymore? Then there was him.

Word Count: 628

Finished || Ongoing

Hide & Seek - Chapter 1 - bhaalistbabe - 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

Grief is a funny thing.

It makes you twisted and dark. Takes things you used to love and turns them into something you can't even stand to think about.

It sucks the life from you.

I lost count of the amount of times I replayed Caleb's death in my memory. A memory that was fading like old photographs you keep in your pocket for safekeeping. But with every missing memory—every memory that was ripped from me—a new one blossomed in its place.

A white-haired man who frequented my memories I now had a name for. One I had given him in a time long since passed; Sylus. Though I often found myself wondering why he no longer bore the tell signs of a fiend. Didn't have the horns or tail and claws that marked him too monstrous to be considered human. But instead had kind eyes and a knowing smile. Some things couldn't be replaced in another life. That was the only conclusion I could come to. That this wasn't the first life I had lived.

I remembered everything almost.

Things like running down sterile hallways, hand in hand with a boy who had galaxies in his eyes. Laughing so hard we were out of breath and our ribs ached. Wondering when the next time I would get to see him would be. Waking up confused and disoriented. But that boy was always there to greet me. Telling me his name and he would always be by my side.

Caleb.

He was always there to comfort me. Remind me who we were. What we were. My very first friend. Sometimes when I woke up he would already be there. Ready to teach me everything I forgot or didn't know. Other times I woke up alone in an unfamiliar room that was too cold and stagnant. Gran—Josephine would be there instead.

Forcing myself to hate the woman who raised us both was easier than looking back and remembering. Easier to call her by name than to think of her as what I thought she was. Who I thought she was.

Caleb had every right to be angry.

I realize that now.

Now that he's gone and I am here.

Back in the same place where we first met. Being tested on and probed like I was something to study and monitor. Maybe I was.

Even with things coming back to me I still had no recollection of my parents or where I came from. Maybe it had always just been this. These walls and sterile equipment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sink in the room they keep me in is a stark contrast to the rest of the room. Dirty and grudgy from neglect whereas the rest of the room was pristine and bright. A single mirror hangs just high enough to catch my reflection. I avoid looking at it when I brush my teeth. Too scared to see how much of myself I've lost.

My hair has grown in the months I've been here. When we were first brought here it only reached my chin. Now it reaches my shoulders. Just passed my collarbones. My hands scarred from being probed and fighting against the scalpels and needles.

"Let them," a female voice enters my conscience from somewhere in the room, "If they make her happy; let her have them."

I don't need to look to know that another orderly was trying to take trinkets from the room. Things I used to keep hidden to keep them close. Things I used to not forget them completely.

A star tassel.

An airplane keychain.

An invitation to an art exhibition.

A brooch with a ruby fashioned in the center of a crow.

A seal made of snow that never seems to melt.

[stay-determinated]

Kris isn't the hero from the prophecy

:The cage with human soul and parts!

This...doesn't fit Kris, doesn't it?

In the situation we're in, we are more like a cage to Kris, not the other way around.

Also, in the concept art of the heros, the human isn't named like the rest of them. there's "Susie", "Ralsei" and "Human."

Did Toby just didn't came up with a name for Kris then? It seems rather unlikely, he was working on that game for years.

So, i think it's the vessel.

"The cage with human soul and parts." Seems like a perfect description for the vessel afterall.

They aren't called a human here because they kind aren't, they are a goner. But they have human parts, the parts that we make at the start of the game.

They also have a human soul, well, they should have.

Yeah, when were on that, WHY we don't control our vessel?

The person who helps us create it (Gaster) speak in all caps and then suddenly he get cut off and someone speaking in lower caps starts talking.

Is that still Gaster? Why would he cut himself off? Also, there is no other point in the game or on Tobys twitter or anywhere where he speaks in lowercase.

I think we were suppose to control the vessel but someone doesn't want that.

Maybe the same person who told Ralsei everything about the prophecy.

Talking about Ralsei, what if hes wrong?

I mean, he is wrong about Kris at best. What if hes wrong about Susie too?

This doesn't realy look like Susie, doesn't it?

Susie doesn't use swords afterall.

This isn't a theory, just something i noticed? I am 99% sure Kris isn't the human from the legend, so, here is a very random prediction.

Ralsei's legend is wrong, he was lied by the person who gave him the information about it.

The true heros are the vessel, Noelle and *Lancer/still Ralsei.

Kris, Susie (And maybe Ralsei) are the ones who will cause trouble. (Kris already does, they work with the knight and they opened at least one fountian.)

*lancer thing isn't very possible, i just find it interesting if it was. He's the only other person who is called "a prince", he is from the dark and he keeps appearing with the protagonists everywhere.

I'm not counting on that but i wish that was true lmao

[n4rval]

SCREAMS AHHHH SHAKING YOU

OKAY SO

for starters i love the art im giggling at the huge chip (i may suck at proportions)

"FLESHLING" refers to any and all creature of flesh and blood, something not exclusive to humankind. It feels wrong for him to say "HUMANS" when truly he means not monster, as he is already so fascinated by mortal remains and "THE INTERDEPENDENT SYSTEMS OF THOSE MADE OF FLESH".

Conclusively, as flesh-like a monster can look, their bodies are still mostly, if not entirely magic. Himself included. Either way, this guy is the king of weird, yet oddly fitting terms for everything.

I promise he's much more polite in person and won't be so uncreative as to limit himself to calling human children FLESHLINGS over and over.

"INFANT" or "LITTLE LADY" do well for a tiny cutie who doesn't really care what words you use.

So is "LAD", if you're more boyish and grown up.

Or, if you're feeling adventurous, "SUPREME OVERLORD OF THE NETHERWORLD" for making fun of an old man who often takes things literally and immediately regretting it because it got corny very fast and now he said it in front of your parents.

Definitely all of the old-fashioned terms and strange wording you can think of, yes.

i am so glad you've noticed and bothered to look up the meanings of their names i was so cooking here

FOLLOWING BELOW: More on SOUL dynamics (with art!), Wingding's centuries of research, getting shaken like a snowglobe

I think it is also important to establish that none of the fallen humans could save, load and reset. Otherwise, we'd not only have a lot of issues with the overall story progression and worldbuilding, but it also undermines the role of the anomaly and flowey's contributions to the narrative.

Long story short, the universe's mechanics said there is a cut one has to make. If there was one(1) single monster left in the entire world, that single monster would not be able to load or save - as it is not simply a ranking thing. DT varies within each individual amongst the category of lifeform they fall into and it is, well, not usual (abnormal, even) to concentrate so much.

"The chosen one" is a common narrative trope and Frisk is special in that sense - and along with Flowey, they fulfill the angel's role in UNDERTALE's prophecy.

Then, what was Toriel hinting at here?

Well, personally? I like to think that for the others, the dynamic was much like retro games, where you have a set number of lives. One run, one timer, one true death.

Once a life is consumed, loading respects an automated programming of restarting a level until you're done for. No such thing as a menu screen with choices. The same appears to have been applied to Chara, as they seem to be somewhat familiar with the world's mechanics when awakened with enough LV – like they've gained an extra life for a brief moment. It is also odd how they specifically asked for Asriel to take their body to the surface once they were bound together, as if trying to avert the effects of automated revival within the Underground's barrier.

This way, we work out both the conundrum of keeping the timeline linear and their reasons for being stuck at the game over screen as spectators.

With this out of the way,

how the FUCK would these two of all children get so far in the first place.

quite simple. they've got the most CHEAT of all soul modes. one doesnt even have to move, and all the other has to do is keep moving.

why would any member of the royal guard make you cyan or orange. much easier to just immobilize you with a cage of either colour

something something DT or whatever

We know that whatever SOUL research was being done, Wingdings preferred to apply it in new technology to improve monster life underground rather than actually finding a way to bypass the barrier — probably because of his relationship with the royal family and how distant of a reality it seemed after the tragedy. Instead, how about investing on automating security? Good and quick food for everyone? Optimizing transportation? Wouldn't it be nice if you could just open a door and already be somewhere else far, far away? But then population grew even more, and suddenly the confined space of the caverns isn't enough anymore, so now we have to resource to crazier ideas.

I feel like the extraction machine does not do the work of isolating and refining the substance we know as DT, because every soul is unique – each light is unique. In Deltarune, we see how Dark Worlds change depending on the creator of the fountain even if it's the very same place. That is applied SOUL POWER, something we will define as the raw determination that was purified for other purposes during Alphys' research.

it fucking POSTED INSTEAD OF SAVING. MY DRAFT. I WILL WRITE MORE LATER.

The Bravery SOUL. so normal about it Shotout to n4rval's Gaster who got me thinking about the two humans‼️ Stares

(Patience not included as it's just plain good ol 'Your Best Friend' throughout) Why does the theme sound so NERDY. All the other SOULs, even Kindness, sound serious. And it would be logical for Perseverance to sounds like that, but nope: it's Bravery's theme.

When I listen to Kindness' theme, it associates with defending oneself, Perseverance with calculating your next moves, while Justice focuses on the opponent's.

Integrity is hard, its creepiness strays me from my line of thought, but most fitting would be 'attacking'. The dustiness of the tutu doesn't play a role in my choice and it's likely that neither of the humans killed anyone, as it would instill at least some fear into monsters and, y'know', be mentioned at least somewhere. But self-defense is still an option, though! Doesn't have to go as far as murder. Nerdy, and many people have pointed out the presence of Gaster's leitmotif in there.

(The video it's taken from)

And, well, these. Just some silly things. Personally I think Gaster could've dealt with two humans after Chara, namely Patience and Bravery. The Patience and Bravery weren't used for the reason of being excessive (I feel like 4 SOUL modes is enough) and Toby not having ideas about how such a SOUL mode could be even executed (the OVERTIME one has a special place in hell). But if looking at it from an in-universe perspective, what if Gaster utilized the SOUL power for lasers? I think a monster's SOUL combines every human trait in it, making it white. Like RGB. So they can also use colored attacks, which have a unique effect. The Royal Guard uses blue attacks to hinder the movement of their target, or, more specifically, a human. Same goes for sentries like Sans and Papyrus. Woshua uses them so you could stand still and let it cleanse you. Hard to say why Gyftrot would, but hey! It's a personal choice, so why not? Orange attacks are very scarce and only one monster exclusively uses that type of attack, and not a combo. Tthat monster being Pyrope. When it comes to switching between these two, Mettaton uses both because of the lasers prominent in the CORE and Hotland, while also being a robot, which, I suppose, makes the utilization easier. Asgore, unlike Undyne, isn't adamant on his target being still to the point of rendering it immobile, so he uses blue attacks instead like the rest of the Royal Guard, while also mixing them with orange ones to disorient the human. So Sorry is a weird case. They attack you but are also sorry for that. (Asgore-style) ..They're quite the character. Green attacks are self-explanatory. Also got a silly idea: what if, since a monster's SOUL is all traits mixed together, white attacks damage you since that is also applicable to them? If you make an orange and a blue attack into one, then it turns into an attack that damages you upon contact either way. But strong monsters, like the main cast, can turn your SOUL a different color. Which, too, is connected to the fact that a monster SOUL consists of every trait, so it can be any color. I already talked about Undyne above. Sans rarely even fights, but in the one instance that he does, it's the sins weighing on our SOUL. Papyrus views the whole fighting thing differently, so for him it's about the challenge. The art of fighting. The purple and yellow modes are a bit weird, the latter one especially. But Muffet uses the former one over the green one due to her playfulness. The purpose of the yellow mode is hard pin down, because it doesn't inconvenience you in any way. But a SOUL is a SOUL, so naturally, SOUL magic would affect them as well. The yellow mode could be used to aid monsters and allow them to get more precise hits? My point is, monsters using either of these (colored attacks and SOUL modes) is natural. What Gaster did was to use that power a bit differently, fusing it with technology.

I feel like Bravery stayed with Gaster for a bit longer than Patience, hence the amount of connections. But if we're going off of Flowey's order of the six SOULs, Patience died first. Bravery dies shortly afterwards. Very reminiscent of the Dreemurrs, isn't it? Ouch. Imagine searching for them and finding out that you arrived a bit late to the scene. Gaster, probably: human...... i know your BRAVE.

[cinnabarsilly]

learning to re-love a beloved character after what their fictive did

[uncharted-constellations]

I am aware I said i wasnt gonna post my zelda 2.0 redesigns until i finished them all, but considering these have been sitting for nearly a year at this point (and may have been mucked by the new game coming out soon but who knows) I figured I might as well start sharing them.

But yes Links are included this round, some have funny pages, I promise i’m using the magazine/game manual pink dress zelda, just probably not where you’re thinking

[im-kinno-hello]

and if i made a comic about them making a blog for the weird demon dog they found in the woods just because they are being brainwashed by it and it told them they need to spread the word of what word they don’t even fucking know?

[agentlove]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[ella-ashmore]

they should all kiss eachother forever i love polyamory yippeeeee !!!!! alt vers + the separate things on their own below the cut ^-^ feel free to do w/e with this just make sure u credit me. and if i find it anywhere w/o my url on the image im going to eat your house

sketch - w/o lipstick - w/o the sketch still visible/the little doodles

spankoffschitz closeup - ruthie closup - flemoffski closeup

ruthie doodle closeup - spankoffschitz doodle closeup - flemoffski doodle closeup

[zdechlyryba]

good day for me today, art-wise

[luckyashes-art]

GOT SILLY ON MS PAINT AGAIN!!

This time featuring a comparison of my first 3 Splatoon OC's original designs from 2017- to their current designs as of 2024 !!

They've certainly been through a lot, both character design and backstory wise !! But I'm happy to see my growth as an artist :>

Myehehe, bonus alternate version!!!

So I didn't actually have a reference for the yellow inkling, but I'm pretty sure I remember making an inkling like this unnamed one before actually designing Kailani.

Can't say for certain though, so it's just speculation that I'm gonna believe!

ANYWAY. Spooky Ash art from 2017 jumpscare !?

Yeah I. blurred out a lot of what was on it- It's embarrassing okay 💀💀 (Yippie yay on seeing how much I've developed my art skills over the years tho !!)

But there's the reference I used to redraw my squiddos' old designs !! Don't mind the old version of my Splatsona in the top left LMAO

[artem1sc0re]

Dropping the reveal of my main operatives through doodles because why not 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

Here’s their appearances in game as well :>

Close-ups:

[luck-of-the-drawings]

two wrongs WILL make a right! ive got another lease on life, and im using it well, who cares if this is all fucked up cause we're all GOING TO HELL! IM JUST WILLIAM WHO SHOULD BE DEAD, HAD TO FOLLOW THE THREAD, thought he was just chillin! now he is a villain! HES ALWAYS SUCH A BUMMER, HE WANTS TO TRUST HIS BROTHER WILLIAM IN A HALLWAY BY HIMSEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

[sysig]

*chanting* Second pet, second pet, second pet! (Patreon)