#old fic finally being posted

[robininthelabyrinth]

Thx for doing this again! It is a joy to read from you 1) If I may ask- Lan Quiren taken care of by people. What would Lan Yueheng or Lao Nie or even his nephew do with a sick / hurt Quiren?

No Time For Leisure

Lan Yueheng didn’t understand why people were mean to each other.

He didn’t understand – quite a bit about people, actually. Most of the time he didn’t even notice when people were being mean to him, though eventually it got through and he felt bad and he didn’t like feeling bad. He didn’t like feeling ignored or barely tolerated or being talked about – or – or any of it, really. He’d asked his cousin Lan Ganhui why people did that and his cousin didn’t really have a good answer, mostly shuffled around and looked embarrassed and said Well I don’t just tolerate you! even though he kind of did, mostly on account of the fact that his mother would dismember him if he didn’t keep an eye on Lan Yueheng while they were out and about.

Still, Lan Ganhui was better than most people, primarily on account of his being willing to be very mean to anyone he perceived as being mean to Lan Yueheng – Lan Yueheng wasn’t actually sure if that was better or not, and sometimes it mostly just came off as Lan Ganhui being mean for no reason – and he really did make an effort to bring Lan Yueheng with him. Sometimes. When there were enough people around that he didn’t have to spend all his time showing off to his friends. Anyway, it was all right, really, or at least it was mostly.

Anyway, Lan Yueheng was assured quite a few times that he would understand it a bit more when he was a bit older. Unfortunately, he’d gotten quite a bit older than he’d been the first time people had said that and he still didn’t understand it and he still didn’t like it and it made him very tired, sometimes.

His math books weren’t mean, at least. He kept at least three with him at all times, nice and steady and reasonable, each thing leading to another, and it made him feel better.

Lan Ganhui had made him promise not to talk to anyone about math while he was on this particular trip, stressing it several times, and while Lan Yueheng didn’t quite understand why and under what circumstances someone wouldn’t want to hear about math, he was trying his best. He even tried not to read his favorite math books too many times, only when he was really anxious and needed a reminder of the familiar.

Right now, for instance. He didn’t understand why everyone was being mean to poor cousin Lan Qiren, who’d gotten into a big argument with his big brother and now wasn’t talking to him, or wasn’t being talked to by him, which seemed more accurate. From what Lan Yueheng heard of it, Lan Qiren seemed to have the right of it, but when he’d asked Lan Ganhui about it, his cousin had looked uncomfortable again and told him not to ask too many questions. But Lan Yueheng was nothing but questions, lots of questions, and he felt bad because Lan Qiren was all alone and being ignored and Lan Yueheng knew how bad that felt.

He decided, in a fit of he-didn’t-know-what, to sneak one of his beloved math books under Lan Qiren’s pillow when no one was looking, thinking that if Lan Qiren couldn’t have anything else, he could at least have math to comfort him. It was a really big sacrifice – it meant Lan Yueheng had only two math books with him at all times – but he thought it was the right thing to do.

Lan Ganhui made a face when Lan Yueheng told him about it, though.

“You know not everyone thinks about math the way you do, right?” he asked, and Lan Yueheng blinked owlishly at him. “He might not appreciate – or understand – what you meant by it…ugh, never mind. Anyway, he’s a rotten old stickler, always getting other people in trouble for violating this rule or that –”

“But following the rules is important, isn’t it?” Lan Yueheng asked, bewildered, and Lan Ganhui sighed and reached over to fix up Lan Yueheng’s hair which was falling sideways again.

“Never mind,” he said. “Just – don’t say anything to him out loud, all right? Promise me.”

Lan Yueheng promised, not for the first time, but he still didn’t understand.

But a day or two later he found the book back under his own pillow with an entire set of annotated notes with questions and comments right next to it, showing interest and engagement with the math in a way barely anyone ever bothered with. This, of course, was the best thing that ever happened to Lan Yueheng – even Lan Ganhui, when he showed it to him, looked surprised and said, “Huh. I wouldn’t have though he’d do that. Guess he’s not as much of a stick in the mud as I thought.” – and from that day forward Lan Yueheng had a brand-new friend, one that understood him even better than Lan Ganhui ever had.

He still didn’t understand why people were mean, but he thought he might understand a bit more about himself, and what he was willing to stand for.

(And also, seriously, he’d told Lan Ganhui that math made everything better!)

-

“You know, when you wrote to me and said he was sick, I thought you meant that he was dying,” Cangse Sanren told Lan Yueheng.

Lan Yueheng blinked at her. “If I meant that he was dying, why wouldn’t I say that he was dying? Anyway, if he was dying, I wouldn’t have been wasting time writing letters to you, would i?”

This was why she liked the Lan sect so much, Cangse Sanren thought, grinning. They might not be as intentionally funny and lively as the Jiang sect at the Lotus Pier – Wei Changze especially – but they had their own particular charm, what with all their rules and regulations and strict orthodoxy that had somehow gone all the way around to being a bit weird anyway.

“You’re completely right,” she said, nodding. “That’s what I would expect from any normal person, but here in the human world people are always over-stating or under-stating things. I’ve almost come to expect it.”

Ugh, that meant she was getting used to it, wasn’t she?

“Well, don’t bother with me or Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng said, blissfully straightforward and just as blissfully uninterested in hearing about Baoshan Sanren’s mountain or Cangse Sanren’s own approximate level of humanity. He was great.“I don’t care about anything other than my math or my alchemy or my friends, I’m not going to waste time talking in circles even if it’s supposed to be more elegant. Are you going to go see Qiren-xiong now?”

“Absolutely. I came all this way, didn’t I?”

Lan Qiren was, in fact, sick, but only with a nasty cold, which he’d managed to get on account of some extraordinarily unwise choices – at least, per Lan Yueheng’s enthusiastic regaling of the adventure – and he turned out to be a terrible patient. Possibly it was that his golden core was so bright and shining, making him unaccustomed to the usual trials and travails of illness and misery and therefore reluctant to accede to them; he wasn’t the strongest cultivator of Cangse Sanren’s acquaintance, but he was one of the purest, and that wasn’t for nothing. This illness was undoubtedly a most unwelcome inconvenience.

He was, in short, grumpy as hell.

“I was told to remain under bedrest, so I am staying where I am,” he said, his monotone voice in no way concealing how much he was seething. “But I do not see why being confined to my bed means that I am incapable of doing anything else of interest.”

“No one’s saying you can’t do things,” Cangse Sanren said, sitting down next to him on the bed and ignoring his shocked yelp at her indecent intimacy. It was a bit slow to get out, which was a sign of how sick he really was; that would be the medicine he was taking, which was making him woozy and even more ill-tempered than he normally was when he was confined. “We’re just saying you can’t do anything not fun.”

“Copying the rules is fun!”

“Copying the rules is a punishment, Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng said, propping his chin onto one knee – he was the least Lan-like Lan Cangse Sanren had ever met, absolutely hilarious. “You aren’t being punished, so why should you copy the rules?”

“I’m working on improving my calligraphy –”

“Write a novel,” Cangse Sanren suggested, and then blinked, suddenly transfixed by her own (mostly joking) idea: a novel written by Lan Qiren would be amazing. “No, really, you should definitely write a novel!”

“I am not writing a novel.”

“How about a song?” Lan Yueheng suggested. “You compose music, don’t you, Qiren-xiong? You could make a drinking song!”

Lan Qiren’s expression of horror was both incredibly effusive and absolutely amazing.

“Yueheng-xiong,” he hissed. “Alcohol is prohibited!”

“I didn’t say anything about alcohol! You can do a drinking song with juice!”

The poor boy clearly believed what he was saying, too.

Cangse Sanren cackled. “Oh, I like this,” she said, clapping her hands together. Lan Qiren looked more spirited already. “We’re going to need lyrics! Let me start –”

“Cangse Sanren!”

-

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Lan Yueheng said petulantly, and Lao Nie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Yes, he’s eating, he’s drinking, he’s sleeping. But that doesn’t mean he’s…you know…okay.”

“I know,” Lao Nie said, regretful as always. He hadn’t had much interaction with Lan Yueheng before, other than as the protagonist of any number of Lan Qiren’s more colorful stories, but he had to admit that the man had guts – he’d flown all the way to Qinghe to come and demand that Lao Nie come help fix Lan Qiren’s emotional state, which was a complete wreck on account of what his brother had done. As if anything could fix Lan Qiren’s emotional state right now.

Certainly not Lao Nie, who’d only made things worse. He hadn’t realized it at the time, being busy with his own business, but in retrospect it was quite clear what he’d done wrong. If only he’d paid more attention to Lan Qiren’s anxious letters, if only he’d taken the time to go in person to the Cloud Recesses the way he’d half-intended to, if only he hadn’t written back to Qingheng-jun with the terrible advice that he had…

Lao Nie had plenty of regrets.

Not least of which were that Lan Yueheng was standing in the middle of his hall, as imperious as any imperial decree, expecting him to drop everything and come to help his friend – and he couldn’t even explain exactly what the matter was!

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t understand how much he’s suffering. But if he’s eating, drinking, and sleeping, there’s nothing I can help him with,” Lao Nie pointed out. Reasonably, to his mind, but Lan Yueheng sighed as if he were being deliberately obtuse. “Listen, he doesn’t even want to see me right now.”

“Qiren-xiong has very strong opinions on many subjects, but that doesn’t make him an expert in all of them,” Lan Yueheng said, which Lao Nie translated mentally to mean something along the lines of sometimes Lan Qiren is dumb as a rock and just as stubborn. “It’s really very simple. He needs his friends. You’re one of his friends. Go be his friend.”

“Listen –”

“If you don’t go to him now when he really needs it, you won’t be one of his friends in the future,” Lan Yueheng said, and Lao Nie scowled. “I’m not making a threat, I’m stating a fact. It just won’t be the same. What could possibly be so important that you won’t come?”

“I have a son,” Lao Nie finally admitted, even though he hadn’t planned on introducing Nie Mingjue to the world for quite a while yet. “He’s still young, very young. It’s difficult to leave him.”

Lan Yueheng didn’t even blink at coming within a hair’s breadth of one of the traditional secrets of the Qinghe Nie. “Okay, then take him with you.”

“…he’s too young to travel.”

“Take him with you in a basket?”

Lao Nie was developing a headache. “Are you even allowed to be here?”

“Nope! I’m going to get punished when I go back,” Lan Yueheng said cheerfully. “The only means I have to minimize the punishment is by bringing you back with me, so I’m going to be very stubborn about it. Can we get moving sooner rather than later? I don’t like the idea of Qiren-xiong by himself for too long.”

Lao Nie had always thought the Nie were the most stubborn of the sects, but the Lan, he thought fondly, could really give them a run for their money. Poor Lan Qiren – he didn’t like to think of him alone, either.

“All right,” he said, already thinking of practicalities. “Give me a day. Let’s go take care of him.”

-

One of the Lan sect disciples that they’d captured in the attack on the Cloud Recesses was having some sort of fit.

It seemed to be in reaction to the beating Wen Xu had ordered administered to the arrogant old fart that play-acted as the Lan sect leader any time there was a discussion conference, presumably because his more famous older brother, the official sect leader, thought that he was too good to come out and talk with the rest of them. They were probably family, or friends, or maybe even something more than that – who knew? The Lan sect were weird, and everyone knew it.

It wasn’t even as if the struggling was helping him in any way. The disciple in question was one of the older ones, at least a generation older than the current juniors, but he seemed to be much more stupid than most of them. Wen Xu had ordered him to be tied up tight and, when that didn’t seem to stop him, disabled as well, cutting the tendon of his ankle so that he couldn’t do anything, either with a sword or by running away. Most people would stop moving when injured, and quite badly at that, but not this idiot – if he didn’t calm down soon, he’d do himself even more damage than he had already.

Not that anyone really cared. What was one more dead Lan?

Still, all that wiggling and thrashing was starting to be obnoxious, making it hard to focus on enjoying the torment before him. A wave of his hand, and a soldier went off, drawing their sword – a fierce strike on the wiggling Lan disciple’s head and there wasn’t any more flailing.

For some reason, that made Lan Qiren, being beaten in front of him, make a sound, which he’d been stubbornly been refusing to until now, no much how much he was hurt – not much of one, just a little grunt, and then he spat up blood.

Maybe they really had been close.

Wen Xu laughed.

There was more where that was from, he thought, gleeful in a way only misery could bring to him any longer. Lan Qiren fancied himself a teacher, put himself above others, thought himself so high and mighty; it was satisfaction itself to bring him down, throwing him into the mud and muck – to make him remember that he was only flesh and blood, tear away his illusions, force him to see the rest of them…

Maybe this wasn’t about Lan Qiren, but a different sect leader entirely.

Well, it didn’t matter – he was the one who was here. He was the one Wen Xu could hurt.

Lan Qiren could only teach what he knew: now it was his turn to learn, and there were none better than the Wen to teach him the full spectrum of agony.

Wen Xu turned back to focus on what he was doing, only then he frowned. Something was wrong: some smell or feeling, something strange from the soldier that had just returned and who was heading back into the main body of the army –

“Stop him!” he cried out, acting on instinct, but it was too late. The soldier, turning back in surprise, abruptly exploded in a stunning wave of force, the sound arriving only a moment before the blood and guts, not just his own but those around him that were struck by the power of it.

Wen Xu, seething, ordered his men to stop beating Lan Qiren for the moment and strode off to deal with whatever it was. How these damnable Lan had managed to get a bomb onto his soldier, he didn’t know, but he needed to investigate all possible options in case they’d come up with some new counterattack. What if there were spies, or some extra forces he hadn’t noticed? Someone still able to fight…there shouldn’t be, but he had to make absolutely sure.

He wasn’t going to allow anything to get in the way of his victory here.

The Wen sect’s triumph – his father’s triumph – was more important than anything else.

-

“You’ve certainly got a lot of family,” Wei Wuxian said to Lan Jingyi, who beamed at him.

“Did you get all the names down, Senior Wei?” he asked. “Don’t worry if you haven’t, it takes people a while!”

“I bet it does,” Wei Wuxian laughed. Seven children, and all from the same two parents, and cultivator parents, no less – they were certainly very industrious! He’d always heard that cultivators found it far more difficult to have children than regular people, but apparently Lan Jingyi’s parents had managed it somehow.

And that would have been surprising enough, except all of them were also all like Lan Jingyi.

Well, okay, that wasn’t true, he was sure there were some differences between them. Some of them were probably more proper than others, but by and large they were all incredibly un-Lan-like Lans, for all that Lan Wangji sat there beside him in the middle of the noisy room with everyone talking (to the point of hollering, in some cases) and laughing, completely calm and seemingly used to it.

Right at the center of it all was what must be the local patriarch, the one Lan Wangji called Third Uncle and Lan Qiren called Yueheng-xiong, and he was laughing along with the rest of them, smiling so broadly that he almost looked foolish. He had a prosthetic leg that looked pretty interesting – Wei Wuxian hadn’t quite figured how to ask to get a closer look, he’d only seen it briefly when Lan Yueheng had used it to (quite justifiably) kick Lan Jingyi in the ass when he’d said something particularly appalling, though they’d all burst out sniggering immediately thereafter – and his fingers were both bandaged and callused in a way that suggested a far more interesting career than Wei Wuxian would have expected from the Lan sect. According to Lan Wangji, Lan Yueheng specialized in alchemy, which was an area Wei Wuxian hadn’t really ever explored, and which he thought might be very interesting to delve into…

“Hey, Wei-gongzi,” Lan Yueheng said suddenly, squinting at him. “What did you say your name was again? Your full name, I mean.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Wei Wuxian introduced himself, and then, unable to resist, added, “You might know me better as the Yiling Patriarch…”

Lan Wangji delivered his elbow staunchly to Wei Wuxian’s ribs, which was both rather uncharacteristic (at least, not since their adolescence!) and completely unnecessary. Also a bit surprising, actually – did Lan Wangji think Lan Yueheng hadn’t heard?

“Oh,” Lan Yueheng said, blinking, and Lan Jingyi covered his face with his hands. “Oh, I see.”

Maybe he really hadn’t.

“You’re on your last chance, then,” he added, voice just as casual as before, but for some reason that made everyone in the room go dead silent and turn to stare at Wei Wuxian as if he’d suddenly grown another head.

“Last chance?” Wei Wuxian asked, raising his eyebrows. “What’s that mean? Most people say ‘second’ chance…”

“No, it’s last,” Lan Yueheng said peaceably. “I don’t like people who hurt Qiren-xiong, you see, and you’ve done it twice already, once at the Nightless City all that time ago and once just now past when you played him bad music when he was already in pain. That sent him into a coma, you know..? Normally, that would’ve been the last chance. But you’re very dear to little Wangji, and I know you weren’t actually being malicious, so that means you get another chance. One last one.”

“…thanks,” Wei Wuxian said, and picked up his cup again, more to have something to do than out of actual thirst. Was this him feeling awkward? He hadn’t known he knew how to feel awkward. “Out of curiosity, what would happen if I used up all my chances?”

“I wouldn’t talk to you anymore,” Lan Yueheng said promptly, and for a moment Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh – that was it? He wouldn’t talk to him? – except then he felt all those stares from all the kids around him get somehow more pointed. When he subtly glanced around to take in the crowd’s reaction, he noticed that poor Lan Jingyi looked white-faced and miserable, and Lan Wangji didn’t look much better, either, seeming almost sick to his stomach.

“Well, if it helps, I don’t intend to hurt Teacher Lan ever again,” Wei Wuxian said, because he didn’t. “Other than by simply existing in his presence, anyway.”

“Then there’s no problem!” Lan Yueheng said, smiling again, and suddenly everyone was relaxed and talking again as if nothing had happened, though perhaps it was a little louder than before. “Don’t worry too much about Qiren-xiong, Wei-gongzi. He’ll get used to you eventually. He’s a lot of fun, really…”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a joke – Lan Yueheng seemed completely in earnest – but Lan Wangji and Lan Jingyi both looked deeply relieved, so he just nodded and smiled and thought to himself that he’d believe it when he saw it.

Lan Qiren? Fun? Yeah, right.

“Oh, I know! You should bond. Maybe you should get Qiren-xiong to play you that drinking song he wrote for your mother,” Lan Yueheng said, and Wei Wuxian was so busy getting caught up in Lan Qiren wrote a drinking song that it took him far too long to get to for my mother?! “That was a good one. We use it when we’re drinking juice, mostly, all my children know it –”

“Are you saying Teacher wrote that one?” Lan Jingyi gasped, looking scandalized and delighted to be so. “A-die! You never said!”

“Why would I say…? Anyway, if you’re having any trouble with him, Wei-gongzi, just ask me, I know him best. In the meantime, would you like to come see some of what we’re working on in the alchemy laboratory…?”

Wei Wuxian decided to postpone questions about Lan Qiren for the moment.

“You have,” he said, straightening up with interest, “a laboratory?”

Beside him, Lan Wangji sighed – possibly he’d been hoping to forestall Wei Wuxian finding out about this, the traitor – and Lan Yueheng nodded happily.

“I want to know everything,” Wei Wuxian said enthusiastically. “Everything!”

[crossbackpoke-check]

the pics of morgan and joel are from travis sanheim's wedding this weekend!

^^^me experiencing the one-two knockout punch of “oh they WERE each other’s wedding date” followed by the realization that sanny finally got married 🥹😭 cheers indeed!!!

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[impossible-rat-babies]

okay gamers I think we’re back in the pits bc I fell asleep putting together a DT timeline for eyrie and estinien

[un-local]

how am i JUST NOW realizing kellogg is meant to be a foil to nick valentine

[lacomandante]

.

[total-serene560]

A little teaser from Chapter 3

currently posted fic below the cut:

[itsbinghebitch]

NO REST FOR THE WICKED | E | 28.7k | vegaspete AU

chapter 6: Lesson number two—patience.

🏝️ will Pete find out his best friend Porsche is marrying into the mafia? 

🐚 will Vegas stop being a sleazy bastard with nefarious plans? 

and, most importantly,

❤️ will Pete finally get to come? 

 find out this chapter! details under the cut

☀️ summary:

Pete has long left Thailand. He is now living the American dream, working long hours to make his rich clients richer and himself more miserable than ever.

But when his best friend Porsche invites him to his destination wedding to the mysterious Kinn, Pete finds himself suddenly thrown into the world of the Theerapanyakul family, the silent machinations underpinning their wealth, and Kinn’s cousin Vegas—who, for reasons unknown, has made it his mission to tear down every assumption Pete holds about his life.

—

resort romance AU where Kinn & co are still mafia (except Pete doesn't know)

🔥 tags:

Alternate Universe, Corporate Consultant Pete, Pete POV, wedding shenanigans, Thailand, Secret Relationship, Plot, Mental Health Issues, Depression, some strong language around mental health, Injury, Angst, but with a happy ending, Explicit Sexual Content, things happening on balconies, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, pete meets vegas and is immediately like 'disgusting......tell me more’, the inherent bdsm of capitalism, the inherent bdsm of mafia romance, class fallouts, pete’s many dormant kinks, ORGASM_DENIED.jpeg, put orgasm denial in there a couple of times, Exhibitionism, Sex Toys

[acaciapines]

every day im like “once i get through arc one of the owl house daemon au editing is going to be so easy.” and then i remember the countless small things that add up and up and up. yall i need to make the bat queen relevant.

[the-lady-general]

Every time I remember Supernova Part II my EYES are rolling so hard I have to pick them up from THE FLOOR. "What is it now, the lady general." I'm grumpy about how Paramount are treating Prodigy, so I'm finally posting a rant I've been brooding on since January, that's what.

Behold this paragraph from Memory Alpha:

In 2384, Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway took on Dal R'El, Jankom Pog, Rok-Tahk, Murf, and Zero under her wing as warrant officers in training, as a compromise, due to Starfleet Justices refusal to let them formally enroll into Starfleet Academy as they felt it was unfair to the Federation citizens already on the waiting list. (PRO: "Supernova, Part 2")

They're minors.

Does Starfleet not have a cadet programme for minors.

Does it *have* to be Starfleet Academy or are protagonists too good for enlisting.

Can they not apply through the usual channels. Are protagonists too good for waiting lists.

Is this criminal court responsible for Starfleet Academy admissions.

Is that not in fact a problem for the admissions board, which can then decide what to do with these children's now existent criminal records.

At least one of them is a citizen of a UFP member world.

What is their citizenship status anyway.

Does anyone give a fuck that these minors are victims of sentient trafficking and forced labour.

What the FUCK are interstellar salvage laws like that the kids are accused of theft *for bringing the Protostar back to Earth*. That's the *opposite* of theft.

On what bloody grounds are they accused, judged, and defended by Starfleet in a court martial. Is that not a massive conflict of interests.

These guys have been shitting in a bucket for 4-6 weeks, how *dare* Starfleet put them on trial without giving them time to see a counsellor.

Can the right honourable judges please point to the investigation over whether or not the Protostar was stolen and if so by who. Can the right honourable judges please point to the outcome of the investigation where it says whether a crime has been committed and if so by who. No? That's what I fucking thought.

All I'm saying is if they don't put Chakotay on trial for gross negligence or whatever before letting him like get a change of clothes and some counselling like he deserves, I'm going to cause public disorder outside Starfleet HQ for the blatant favouritism.

THESE ARE CIVILIAN REFUGEE CHILDREN OH MY GOD WHAT ARE THEY DOING WITHOUT PROPER LEGAL REPRESENTATION

Janeway is not proper legal representation (I love her but there are trained and experienced specialists for this kind of thing) WTF DID I JUST SAY ABOUT A CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

Is Tellar just going to accept that Starfleet put one of their citizens on trial with no time for a proper investigation into the alleged crime, no proper legal counsel, no time to follow procedures for asylum seekers/temporally displaced persons/trafficking victims/orphaned minors.

Speaking of Jankom: How come he can be put on trial with his crusty old DIY cybernetics? Is the multi-mitt safe? Is Zero's containment suit going to fail mid-trial and kill whatever braincells remain in the Starfleet judges? Did Gwyn fully recover from her amnesia? Is Dal's genome stable? Is Murf capable of following the trial and can the court understand his testimony? Did the forced hard labour disabled kids get medical attention at all before being marched into this farce? Does anybody know?

Speaking of farces: Does anybody care about the breach of the Romulan Neutral Zone? The Romulans maybe? Is there a Romulan diplomat who cares about that? No?

Speaking of unlikely stories: Are there witnesses? Like, ANY witnesses? Janeway? The legal defence of the accused is the only witness the court has bothered to invite? Nobody else? The Romulan delegation that had two people killed by the accused? The Kazons that had two people killed by the accused? The slavers that abducted Zero? The survivors from Jankom's sleeper ship? The Enterprizians that had their planet polluted for over a century by Starfleet?

Are they going to put the Enterprizians on trial for stealing the Galileo?

WHYEVER NOT?! MAKES AS MUCH SENSE AS ACCUSING THE KIDS OF STEALING THE PROTOSTAR DOESN'T IT?! SPOCK'S ALIVE SURELY THEY COULD PIN THE SLOW AND EXCRUCIATING DEATH BY WARP PLASMA/DILITHIUM RADIATION OF A BUNCH OF ENTERPRIZIANS ON SPOCK BEFORE REMEMBERING HE HAS DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY AFTER TWO MINUTES OF JOKINGLY INSULTING HIM IN COURT. DOES THAT SOUND FUN? DOES THAT SOUND LIKE A GOOD EPISODE? MUCH TENSION. SUCH CHEAP. VERY WOW.

This ethics problem is about to become an engineering problem right bloody fast as I'm pelting the idiots at Starfleet's JAG office with hammers.

[chronickey-luka]

maybe i should just make a yakuza sideblog... i feel like ive kinda comitted to keeping it on main though w/ the amount of tag and post rambles I've done already. hmmm

[leofrith]

thinking about din djarin tonight :(

[un-pearable]

at all times fighting the urge to rewatch s1

[altruistic-meme]

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

i went to copy the emojis and i somehow copied the whole post lolol so here

the same thing happened to me sakfhs idk why it did that ? it doesn't usually

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

because of my sister! she brought home a fic and we all read it together, and after that she would bring home more fics and share them with us. i only started writing because there was a specific kind of fic i wanted to read, but she couldn't find anything like i was asking for. so i wrote it myself!

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I finally have a new car!!! something i have been wanting for a few years!!! and it's all my own :) i am so unbelievably excited about it now that the initial stress and anxiety about the shopping/buying process is over

i have been feeling more and more appreciated(? not really the right word hhh) at work lately. i knew before that i was objectively a good worker, but it's only started to really hit me recently just how much people actually recognize that! i think it's because of a conversation i had with one of my pseudo-supervisors: i was talking to her about how it was hard because after you've been working here for some time, people stop actually introducing themselves to you. and i would always feel kind of lost because all these people seemed to know my name but i never knew who they were! because they didn't introduce themselves!! but she told me that the reason they knew my name is because people talked about me. and it hit me again yesterday bc i was working in my old area but with primarily new people, but the manager there had heard of me before!! she recognized my name. idk. it's just kind of a nice feeling that people actually do see how hard i work.

despite the horror of April, i am actually looking forward to a few things this month :) including the Haikyuu movie (please let at least one of my theaters have it, they've been having quite a few anime movies recently ;; ) and also momocon !!! which i convinced my sister to let me drag her to it lmao <3 and i'll be hunting for bsd plushies there hehehe

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

do not seek out stuff that upsets you. it is self-harm. i have so many thoughts about it, but that's the base of it. just don't.

[ writers truth or dare ask game ]

[brittlebutch]

i can’t stop thinking about this weird little storm chaser AU my brain dreamed up where bill&ted are the POV characters but crucially not the main characters but the problem is that I truly don’t know anything about storms and I worry I’m not smart enough to understand if I do start researching LOL

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.