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Hi, femme-enby!
(and I apologize to OP for highjacking your post a little)
You were checking your insurance policies on your phone, completely engrossed in the minutiae that could leave your mother uninsured if any step was done wrong. You were so deep as to ignore the half-smoked cigarette, its ashes approaching slowly to your fingers, and the rest of your surrounding area. You were ignoring the whole huge Pizzaplex at your back.
You took a drag of your cigarette and held it while you skimmed over the terms of a long-term stay in the hospital, then went to blow the smoke to the other side with a big sigh.
And you found yourself staring at a collection of turbid bubbles... And at a plastic bubble maker right between your eyes, attached to a blue hand. You cranked your neck up.
“Moon!” You frowned a little. “Where did you get that?”
“Confiscated!” He dipped the plastic stick in the soap and offered you the renewed delicate tensed surface. “Again!”
Your smile twitched to life and you indulged him, because how could you not? He sat by your side and you let yourself be used as a human bellows for your and his amusement.
The insurance policies were put on hold for the rest of your break.
🌜
The next night you tried to read the exact same paragraph again. Yet another cigarette in your hand. Focused again on what dire consequences may come from the hospital stay. Economical at least because the health ones you had no way of predicting.
You should have seen it coming. This time you should have seen it coming.
You took a drag of your cigarette and held it while you read, then went to blow the smoke with a sigh.
“Twuuuut”
You shook, startled out of your musings by the noise. You turned looking for the culprit and of course Moon was there, so close that you almost startled again, holding a kazoo between his fingers in the exact same position as your cigarette.
“Wa- How did you…?” If yesterday had taught you something, it was that he didn’t have lungs, so…
He made a gesture with his unoccupied hand to yours. You moved your arm and he moved his so you played along. You took another drag and he mimicked you, down to how his chest piece seemed to fill and expand with air with just a change of posture.
You held your breath for a moment wondering what was going to happen now. Then you let your arm with the cigarette hang and he did the same.
You exhaled.
“Twuuuut”
You couldn’t help yourself and cackled.
“It’s your speakers!”
“Twut Twut twt twuut twuut!”
“That’s cheating!”
“Twut Twut twut!”
Well, you were not getting any conversation out of him today, so you took another drag and expelled long and continuously.
“Twuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut- Tw tw tw tw.”
The last of your smoke and his twuuting stuttered because you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You didn’t need to bring the kazoo if you are going to make the noises with your ‘mouth’.”
“Twut twutn’t twut tw twuut thw twtoo tw tw tw twing tw twk tw twuut twt twt twuut.”
You didn’t expect any less of him.
“You are Twidiculous!”
“Twut Twut twuuuut!”
Yet another break where you didn’t manage to read a single line.
🌜
So much time had passed, you no longer cared for that particular insurance policy. Instead, now you cared about what half-destroyed bots would be sent to your workshop, what Sun would think if you bought him a Rubik cube, what Moon would think of getting new clothes, what your friends at The Rooms would be plotting this time… But today had been a long day and you had had to put on a front for people who would rather see Sun and Moon back under the orders of FazCo. It had been rough.
You patted your jacket and felt the box. Just what you needed after such an ordeal.
You leaned against the wall of the hotel, well outside the streetlamp area, and Moon followed. Then you got out of an inner pocket a cigarette box. Something still rattled inside.
“No,” Moon chided you immediately.
“It has been a long night,” you complained.
“The last one was the last one.”
“Just one,” you even put one finger up in front of him.
“No!”
“Yes!”
You didn’t give him any more time to complain. You opened the box, whipped out the content, held it between your fingers and…
“Tweeee!” ...blew the party horn right to his face.
Moon didn’t move. He said nothing.
“Tweeee!” you repeated, making sure the end of it tapped his faceplate.
Said faceplate twitched to the left. And just when you were about to ask him what was-
“Twuuuut!”
You knew that noise clip!
“Tweeee!”
“Twuuuut!”
“Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“Twuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!”
“Twee!”
“Twut!”
“It’s two am, I’m going to call the Police!”
You looked up. From the window of the hotel you saw a spiked silhouette leaning, his face on his hand and watching you.
“Twee!”
“Twut!”
On AO3
My friend sent me this post and said it was Sun core so y'all know what I had to do.... 🤭😭✍️
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First off let me start with. I am so happy that I found your blog. The writing you do is so amazing the details that you put in stories really make me feel like I’m there. You are such an amazing writer. ❤️❤️❤️ Can you please bring my thought to life. Sebastian sallow x reader. They have been friends for since 5th year. The reader has fallen in love with him over the years and it the last day of the 7th year the reader and Sebastian are laying in out by the black lake just talking about different things and reminiscing about different memories over the years then they are quiet just looking at each other in a peaceful state and Sebastian slowly start moving closer like a magnet is pulling him in. He kisses the reader and pulls away quickly and starts apologizing profusely but the reader just shuts him up by pulling him back in to the kiss
Memory Lane | Sebastian Sallow x Reader
Thank you so, so much for your support and for such a lovely compliment, I'm just... AH I'm so flattered ;.;
This prompt really inspired me, and I really enjoyed expanding this out. Like this is just... ah, SO many feels! Like I felt so wistful and nostalgic writing this, but then it was so fluffy and sweet, and then there is of course, a happy ending just like you asked!
thank you for the wonderful idea and for trusting me with it!!!
Words: ~3,500
Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Fluff, Fluff Again, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Coming of Age
The sun hung low over the Black Lake, casting everything in hues of gold, the water reflecting back a shimmering version of the sky. A warm breeze rolled across the grass, stirring the trees at the water’s edge, and carrying with it the promise of change.
Sebastian stretched out on the grass, hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you had been out here. An hour? Maybe two? Time moved differently today—slipping between his fingers even as he tried to hold onto it.
He turned his head slightly to glance at you, to trace the way the late afternoon sunlight kissed your skin, turning you golden at the edges. You had pulled your legs up slightly, bare feet grazing the grass, one hand resting lightly against your stomach, the other mindlessly toying with blades of grass.
You were wearing that pretty blue sundress—the one you had worn a handful of times over the years, usually on Hogsmeade weekends when the weather was nice. It clung to you in the way it always had. But for once, Sebastian wasn’t thinking about how it framed the plush curves of your body, how the neckline dipped just enough to make him forget himself. No—right now, all he could think about was what it meant.
Your wand was nowhere in sight. No uniform, either. No more robes, no more house colors, no more tie knotted at your throat. Because there was no need for them anymore.
It was such a simple thing, and yet his stomach twisted.
It’s over.
This place, these moments—the quiet stretches between classes, the familiar scrape of chairs in the Great Hall, the Undercroft filled with whispered plans and spells flickering in the dark—it was all slipping away, vanishing like smoke curling from a snuffed-out flame.
And you—Merlin, you—would walk out of the castle tomorrow, just like he would, and he had no idea what happened after that.
“You’re quiet,” you murmured.
Sebastian exhaled a laugh through his nose, trying to shove the feeling down. “That’s twice today you’ve pointed that out.”
You hummed, amused but unconvinced. “It’s rare.”
He felt you shift, propping yourself up on your elbows. When he glanced over, your were studying him the way you always did—curious, observant, like you could see straight through him to the things he wasn’t saying.
Sebastian rolled onto his side. “Alright,” he said, forcing some levity into his voice. “What’s your best memory of the last three years?”
You huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s a hard question.”
“I’ll allow a top three, if you’re struggling.”
You smirked, shaking your head. “Generous of you.”
“I try.”
You glanced up at the sky, thinking, as your fingers tapped against your stomach, the warm breeze teasing strands of your hair across your face. “Alright… let's see…" you hummed thoughtfully, a smile pulling on your lips. "Well, I'll never forget that night at the Three Broomsticks last year."
Sebastian’s brows lifted, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh, that night?”
You hummed, amused. “You know exactly which one I mean.”
He did.
He could still see the dim candlelight, smell the rich scent of butterbeer mingling with firewhiskey, hear the warmth of your laughter cutting through the noisy hum of the crowded tavern.
It had started off as a Saturday spent in Hogsmeade, nothing particularly special about it at first. Just the usual browsing through shops and eating too much candy. That night, the two of you snuck off to the Three Broomsticks long after curfew, claiming your usual booth near the back where you could talk in peace.
But that night had spiraled into something else entirely.
Sebastian could still see the flush on your cheeks, hear the unrestrained laughter spilling from your lips after he, five drinks in, had stood on his chair and, with absolutely no shame, started belting out a horribly off-key rendition of Odo the Hero.
The entire tavern had turned to watch. Patrons had been egging him on, slamming their fists against the table in time with the beat. And you?
You had tried—really tried—to keep a straight face, but the moment Sebastian dramatically grabbed a butterbeer bottle as a makeshift microphone and turned to you, winking mid-chorus, you had completely lost it, howling with laughter, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, Sebastian had thought, this is it. This was the moment he wanted to live in forever. Just this. You, beside him, always.
Of course, the moment had ended rather abruptly when the bartender had finally had enough, marching over and dragging him off the chair by the collar of his robe.
Now, lying beside you in the grass, Sebastian stared at your profile, watching the way you smiled softly at the memory.
"Certainly one of my best vocal performances, wouldn't you say?" he mused.
You scoffed, shaking your head. “Sebastian, you forgot half the lyrics and improvised the rest.”
“I made it better.”
“You rhymed ‘hero’ with ‘butterbeer-o.’”
“Creative license.”
You laughed, and Sebastian swore he felt the sound of it in his ribs. Light and warm and real.
"One of mine," he said after a beat, "is when we when we snuck out to the Astronomy Tower in sixth year."
Your lips twitched, eyes still fixed on the sky. “You mean when we stole a telescope."
Sebastian huffed a laugh, propping himself up on his elbow. “Borrowed a telescope. With every intention of returning it.”
You turned to him, amusement dancing in your gaze despite your dry tone. “It’s still in the Undercroft.”
“Is it?” He feigned surprise, lips quirking. “How irresponsible of us.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught that night.”
Sebastian couldn't either.
He had always been good at slipping past prefects, at charming his way out of trouble when necessary. But that night had been different.
That night, you had pulled him by the hand through the castle, your laughter echoing in the empty corridors, and for once, he hadn’t been thinking about getting caught.
He had been thinking about you.
About the way your fingers had laced through his so easily, the way your smile had glowed under the moonlight when you finally reached the top of the tower.
He remembered the way you had sat cross-legged beside him, chin resting in your palm as you peered through the pilfered telescope, murmuring about constellations in that soft, content way you always did when it was just you and him.
But Sebastian had barely looked through the telescope that night. Couldn’t have cared less about the stars. Because, for him, the moment hadn’t been about what was in the sky. It had been about the way you had leaned against him, absentmindedly close. The way the night had felt endless, the two of you murmuring about everything and nothing, the warmth of your shoulder pressed into his. The way he had wanted to kiss you then—so badly, it had hurt.
And yet, he hadn’t.
Because he hadn’t been sure. Hadn’t been sure if what he wanted was something you wanted, too.
Now, looking at you, a year later, the last golden light of the evening painting you in soft warmth, he wondered if he had been an idiot.
No—he knew he had been an idiot.
"We probably should bring it back," you continued, letting out a sigh. "You know, before we leave and nobody even knows the Undercroft exists."
"Or," he said with a smirk, "we could leave it there. A relic for some unsuspecting student to stumble upon in a hundred years. Let them wonder why a perfectly good telescope was abandoned in a hidden room beneath the castle."
You snorted. "They'll probably assume it's cursed."
Sebastian smirked. "Even better."
That earned him a soft laugh, and he closed his eyes, letting the sound of it settle into his chest.
Then, after a moment—
"Alright," he murmured, voice quieter now. "Your next memory?"
You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice dipping into something softer, something thoughtful.
"The day we met," you said finally. "Fifth year. My first Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh; he’d never forget that day.
He had noticed you the second you stepped into the classroom—new, unfamiliar, carrying yourself with a quiet confidence that masked the careful way you took in the room. Assessing. Measuring. Cautious, but not uncertain. And gorgeous.
Everyone had been curious about you—the new student arriving in the middle of their education, something that almost never happened at Hogwarts. The murmurs had started before Hecat even entered the room, speculation thick in the air.
Sebastian had been curious, too. Not that he would have admitted it.
And then, you were paired off for a duel. With him.
Sebastian had smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stepped onto the platform, self-assured as ever. He had never lost a duel before.
And then—within seconds—everything changed.
Because you weren’t just skilled.
You were dangerous.
You met every spell he cast with effortless precision, deflecting with ease, dodging before he had even finished casting. And when you struck back, it was fast—calculated, efficient. He barely had time to block before you broke through his defenses.
And then, with one perfectly timed sidestep and a flick of your wand, his own was ripped from his grip.
It clattered to the floor. Silence filled the room. Sebastian had just stared. Stunned. Disarmed.
Beaten.
And after that? He had spent years trying to reclaim that loss.
It had become a ritual—Sebastian versus you, in class, at Crossed Wands, in secret training sessions that stretched long into the night.
And yet, after all that time, after dueling exams and real combat experience, he had never managed to best you.
Not once. Not even now, when he was the one becoming an Auror.
"You know," Sebastian muttered playfully, "I will get you back for that first duel."
You turned your head toward him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Oh? Still holding onto that loss, are we?"
Sebastian smirked, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. "I’ve just been biding my time. Waiting for the perfect moment to take my revenge."
You let out a soft hum, lips twitching. "So what I’m hearing is that you’ve spent the last three years failing to beat me and now you need a dramatically timed rematch to soothe your ego?"
Sebastian scoffed, squinting up at you. "It’s not ego—it’s justice. Balance. The universe can’t just allow you to get away with this forever."
You grinned, shifting so you were mirroring his position, laying beside him. "And tell me, oh-Auror-to-be, when exactly do you plan to reclaim your honor?"
Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to quip back, but something about the way you were looking at him made the words catch in his throat.
The waning golden light clung to you, soft and warm, making the edges of you glow. Your expression still held traces of amusement, but beneath it, there was something quieter, something weightier—like you were trying to memorize the moment, like you knew it was slipping away too fast. Just like he knew it was slipping away too fast.
Sebastian felt it like a stone in his chest, heavy and sinking.
His smirk faltered.
"Tomorrow," he said. "We can have our rematch then."
And he needed you to agree. Because tomorrow, you wouldn’t be here. Tomorrow, you would walk out of these castle gates, out into the world, and after that—after that, he had no idea what would happen.
Sure, you’d promised each other a million times that nothing would change. That you’d write, that you’d visit, that you’d always make time.
But promises were easy. Promises were words spoken in stolen moments when the future still felt distant, when the weight of goodbye hadn’t yet settled into your bones.
And Sebastian knew—he knew—that the world had a way of pulling people apart, no matter how much they swore it wouldn’t.
That was what he was afraid of.
Because after tomorrow, there was no routine. No house tables in the Great Hall. No sitting beside you in class, no sneaking into the Undercroft, no excuse to find you. After tomorrow, the only thing tethering you to each other would be choice.
Would you choose him? Would you make time for him? Or would the days slip by, growing longer and longer between the times he saw you, until one day you were nothing more than a distant memory, a name on a letter, a familiar voice fading into something far away?
You turned your head toward him, your gaze steady, unreadable at first. And then—slowly, softly—you smiled.
"Alright," you murmured. "Tomorrow."
Sebastian’s chest tightened.
His throat felt thick, too tight, like if he tried to say anything, the words would catch and betray everything he wasn’t ready to admit. So instead, he forced himself to look away, dragging his gaze from the warmth of your expression and back to the sky above—the same sky that had once been brilliantly blue was now dimming into twilight.
Time was slipping.
The sun had set. The stars were taking its place. And tomorrow was one step closer.
Sebastian had spent years running toward the future—chasing after it, desperate to shape it into something he could control. Always planning, always scheming, always moving forward.
But now, he wanted to stop. He wanted to hold onto tonight, stretch it out indefinitely, keep you here beside him just a little longer.
Sebastian swallowed against the ache in his throat. "Alright," he said, voice quieter now. "Your last one. Your best memory."
You hesitated, just for a second, and then—
"This."
Sebastian turned his head sharply, meeting your gaze.
Your face was close, too close, your eyes warm but certain, no hesitation in them. You said it as if it were obvious, as if there were no other answer you could have possibly given even though this wasn’t nostalgia. This wasn’t a distant memory you could reminisce about years from now.
This was now.
Sebastian blinked.
"What... but— but that's not how this works."
"Why not?"
"Because—" He gestured vaguely between the two of you, grasping for words, for something solid to hold onto. "You’re supposed to pick something that already happened, not—" He broke off, exhaling sharply, because you were still looking at him like that.
Like you were waiting for him to understand. Like he was being dense.
"Sebastian," you murmured, and your voice was softer now, patient, like you were leading him toward something he should have seen all along. "I could have picked any number of things. Our duels. Quidditch matches. Sneaking through the castle after curfew. Or even that time you nearly got us eaten by a very territorial hippogriff—"
"That was not my fault—"
"But the thing is," you cut in, smiling, "those memories don’t stand out just because they were exciting, or dangerous, or something we weren’t supposed to be doing." Your smile softened. "They stand out because of you."
Sebastian blinked, caught off guard.
"It doesn’t matter if it was something thrilling, or reckless, or quiet—like right now," you continued. "It’s not about what we were doing. It’s about who I was with."
His throat went dry.
You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because as long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. It’s always going to be my favorite memory."
Sebastian felt something shift inside him, like the air had been knocked from his lungs. Because he knew, knew, you weren’t just talking about the past.
You were talking about tomorrow. And every day after. You were telling him—without a single doubt in your voice—that you weren’t going anywhere. That you had already chosen him.
The silence stretched, and he stared. Openly. Unapologetically. In a way he never had before—never let himself before.
Because suddenly, all of it—all the stress, all the gnawing uncertainty, all the weight of tomorrow that had been pressing down on his chest for weeks—just... lifted.
Like the world had let him breathe again. Like the twilight wasn’t a countdown anymore, wasn’t a time bomb ticking away the last moments of something he couldn’t bear to lose.
It was something else now.
It was the eve of something new. Something just beginning. With you.
And Merlin, wasn’t that all he had ever wanted?
And the more he thought about it, the more he realized—
He had been leaning in.
Slowly, unconsciously, like something inevitable had already set itself in motion.
Merlin, you were closer now, and Sebastian's fingers twitched against the grass. He should say something. Should tell you everything he’s always felt.
But words felt useless, pointless when your lips were so close to his, when he could feel your breaths mingling with his own, and before he could second-guess himself, before he could hesitate—
He closed the distance.
His lips met yours.
And everything else ceased to exist.
Because God, the way you felt—
Soft and warm, lips pliant beneath his, tasting faintly of honeyed cream, still sweet from the slice of cake you’d shared earlier in the Great Hall.
And fuck, he wanted more.
More of this, more of you—more of the way your lips parted ever so slightly beneath his, more of the way his heart was slamming against his ribs like it had been waiting for this moment all along.
But then—
What the hell was he doing?
His eyes snapped open. His breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched against your cheek, and then, before he could think, before he could stop himself—
He jerked back.
His breath came fast, chest rising and falling as though he had just run across the entire castle. His hands were still hovering midair, like they had just now realized they no longer had anything to hold onto.
His mind was blank. Then racing. Then blank again.
"Shit."
His stomach dropped, panic clawing up his throat.
"I—Merlin, I’m sorry," he blurted out, voice higher, breathless. "I shouldn’t have—bloody hell, I didn’t mean to—"
You blinked at him, still dazed, lips parted, breath unsteady.
And Sebastian was spiraling.
Shit. Shit.
What had he just done?
He had kissed you.
You.
"That was—" He exhaled sharply, raking both hands down his face. "That was out of order—I wasn’t thinking, I—"
"Sebastian."
"I just—I don’t know what I was—" He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "I mean, I do know, but I wasn’t thinking, and now—now it’s—"
"Sebastian."
You were sitting up now, eyes locked onto him, but he was still spiraling, still freaking out because—
"I—bloody hell, I’m sorry, I—"
You grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him back in.
Sebastian barely had time to register what was happening before your lips crashed into his, firm, unwavering, silencing every frantic thought in his head in an instant.
He made a startled noise in the back of his throat, but then—then he melted.
Because there was no hesitation now. No doubt.
You wanted this. You wanted him.
And fuck, did he want you too.
His hands shot to your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress, pulling you closer, desperate to make up for the lost seconds he had spent panicking.
The kiss was deeper this time, hungrier, something that tasted like relief. Like finally.
Your hands fisted in the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself against him, and Merlin, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever felt in his life. The need, the want in it—like you couldn’t bear the thought of letting go either.
And when you finally pulled back for air, just enough for your forehead to rest against his, your lips still brushing his, you smiled.
"I lied," you whispered, voice warm, steady. "I think this might be the best memory."
Sebastian let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, his grip on you tightening.
"You," he started, voice hoarse, eyes flickering down to your lips, "are going to be the death of me."
"I don’t mind being your final act," you murmured, teasing but with something real beneath it.
And that—fuck, that—
Sebastian didn’t stand a chance.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fandom#sebastian sallow#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3 author#archive of our own#sebastian sallow x mc#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#hogwarts sebastian#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#x y/n fluff#fluff#x you#x reader#x you fluff#female reader#reader insert#fluff and romance#tooth rotting fluff#coming of age#love confessions
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The audacity of some on here never ceases to amaze me, why do I even try giving benefit of doubt anymore 🤠
Anyway, I’ve been working on all my 100% free, no gimmicks involved, simblreen treats and a bonus gift by end of the month for your spooky babies 👀 and that’s part of why this blogs been pretty quiet
#other reasons are that I’ve been focused on writing story/book#when I feel like making a story update likely after simblreen#might do a poll beforehand#see if you all want what has been set up or me to include new additional stuff from book#so much has been expanded on and a handful changed#makes my head hurt#anyway#don’t give people money during simblreen#especially those who say the amount you give determines quality#that’s some drug dealer sounding bs💀#txt post#delete later
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hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝
sylus and his princess (queen) treatment
pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader
warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories
a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/be1a486ea7295ae39bd4274f1692a3ad/da0bab053309b26b-f3/s540x810/9517380af04bbb8578b8baed5bef0cf2eea94fac.jpg)
With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.
He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.
You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.
You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.
You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”
He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.
He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.
He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)
You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.
His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.
That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.
This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.
Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.
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this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look
He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.
Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)
For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.
His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..
read zayne’s version here
requests open ❤︎
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace headcanons#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#lads#lads sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x mc#sylus#lnds sylus#lnds#otome#otome game#sylus headcanons#lads x reader#lads mc#lads headcanons#sylus lads#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lnds x reader#lnds mc#l&ds#l&ds headcanons
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
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The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
#yet another parody I'm so sorry#yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x you#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere obsession#obsessive love#tw yandere#yandere oc x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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Beautiful Liar
pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), toxic, angst, dark content, fluff
summary; Kim Mingyu's life has always been complicated, but you just add another layer. At least he is a beautiful liar.
dark content/content warnings; mafia au, murder, guns (used/sold/bought), cops, gun dealer!mingyu, mafia boss!jun (shut up), second in command/drug dealer!minghao, lawyer!wonwoo, blood, fighting/beating, drugs mentioned, smoking (cigarettes), alcohol, alludes to alcoholism, depression/anxiety, toxic relationships, commitment issues -- best friends sister to lover, bosses sister to lover, jun's sister!reader, soonyoung, dino (chan), vernon as side characters, names eunseok and haneul used (have no connection to riize and kiof), crying, food and drink as always, mentions being sick, doctor!reader, medical terminology and medical procedure/wound described -- as always i'm certain i have missed something. if there is anything glaring send me an ask.
smut warnings; dom!mingyu, mean dom!mingyu, brat!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, pulling out, creampie, cum on skin, cum play, cumming untouched, cumming in pants, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, pet names/degrading names, praise, impact play, pussy slapping, biting, crying from pleasure, dacryphilia, aftercare. as stated above, i am sure there is something i am forgetting. send an ask if it is glaring.
w/c; 25.6k and some change (2.8k extra words for patreon bonus)
beautiful liar - monsta x
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you forever. i hope you all enjoy this one. i missed my boy so much and i wanted to expand a bit on gyu from shut up. give him a bit of life. its not the end of some of these characters, but we will see where they pop up in the future.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
“Put that box over there.” Wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, Mingyu sighs out his words gesturing with his free hand as Lee Chan and Kwon Soonyoung lift the large box full of guns from the back of the trailer and onto a table in front of him. It was hotter than usual today and Mingyu didn’t want to be at the bar on his Saturday, but yet here he was, ever diligent.
“What did you buy me?”
Taking a breath to the sound of his boss, Mingyu puts on a good face before glancing towards Wen Junhui and letting the corner of his lips pull up, at least on one side. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jun, it was more that he was tired. Jun had gotten breaks over the past few months after a run in with Park Bonhwa, but Mingyu hadn’t. Things hadn’t gotten much better on the back end, they had just gotten quieter.
Pointing at the box in front of him before picking up a pry bar, Mingyu grunts as he loosens the nails and takes off the top for Jun to see.
“This one is Glocks and revolvers.” Gesturing with the pry bar towards where Chan and Soonyoung were pulling the other box from the truck, Mingyu tilts his head. “Should be rifles, mostly AKs. Just like you asked for, boss.”
Jun knew what he had asked Mingyu to acquire for him, he just liked to see a job well done and Mingyu rarely disappointed, especially as of late. Slapping the larger man’s shoulder, Jun reaches in with his free hand to take out one of the revolvers, a Smith & Wesson, to test the balance in his hand. “It’s good work, Gyu. These should hold us over for a few weeks.”
Putting the gun back into the box, Jun reaches up to scratch at his eyebrow as he glances towards Xu Minghao, his second in command, with a sigh on his lips. “Listen, speaking of. I’m going out of town for a few weeks. Gonna take Kitten on a little vacation.”
Making a bit of a face at the pet name, Mingyu lifts his brows as Minghao rolls his eyes and speaks up, leaning against the table beside him. “Couldn’t call her anything else? She has a name.”
Shooting his best friend a look, Jun scoffs and tilts his head. “Not any name that matters; I’ll call her what I want. The point stands, we are going out of town. Hao, you are in charge and Mingyu...”
Hearing his name, Mingyu straightens his back and meets Jun’s eyes, uncertain what is about to be said, but his anxiety seems to know before it’s even out of his mouth.
“You’ll take on second. Don’t let my bar burn down.”
As if he didn’t have enough of his plate already. Seeing the look in Jun’s eye, Mingyu puts on a good face and nods. “Got it.”
Mingyu was a complicated man. There were some who knew him as a cheerful person, most of those people got to know him when he was drunk. There were those who knew him as threatening, those were the people who got to know him on a bad day, and then there were people who had known him for most of his life—those people could tell when he was bluffing.
Following behind Mingyu after he had checked the last box and sent the others home for the day, Minghao watched his friend closely before finally speaking up, knowing they were alone, at least enough that he didn’t have to worry about being heard. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t already do while Jun’s out of town, Gyu.”
Leaning his head back in annoyance, Mingyu stops in his tracks at the sound of Minghao’s voice. He should have known he wasn’t alone and if it had been anyone else, he probably would have. Xu Minghao, however, was quiet, and that’s what had made Jun interested in him in the first place.
Turning to face the man, Mingyu puts on the same face he had given Jun before shrugging. Even if Minghao gave him more to do, that wouldn’t be the end of the world; it wasn’t like he had a life outside of this bar anyway. Mingyu had known what he was getting into all those years ago when he took that first wad of cash from Jun.
“I don’t care. You could send me to the moon to buy you a 1911 Colt and I’d make it fuckin’ happen.” Minghao could hear the stress in Mingyu’s voice and it caused the corners of his lips to turn down as he took a step closer to his friend. If anyone needed a vacation from here, maybe it was him, but he knew those were few and far between—Jun got what he wanted when he wanted it, but that was owner privilege.
Reaching up to rub at his neck, Minghao glances back towards Jun’s office, hearing him talking low on the phone. He knew Jun’s schedule and what he could get away with and in theory, what Mingyu could get away with, at least for the time being. “Take tonight off. Jun doesn’t leave until tomorrow night. I’ll need your big ass here then, but I can’t have you tired and moping around the door like this tonight.”
Scoffing, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses the towel he had been using in the warehouse into the laundry room as he starts to walk away from Minghao as he speaks up a bit louder to make sure he’s heard. “We don’t get nights off, Hao. I’m fine. I don’t trust anyone else at the doors. Anyone could walk in.”
Mingyu had already thrown out five people and the night had barely started. Minghao already felt like ripping his hair out as he heard another disgruntled patron trying to drunkenly state their case to the large man as he hauled them back towards the door. While Minghao didn’t disagree with most of the people that Mingyu had thrown out, some of it was for petty shit that on most nights they would look in the other direction of—like this one.
“Man! What the fuck? I said I was sorry. My hand slip—slipped.” The man hiccuped through his explanation, but clearly Mingyu wasn’t hearing any of it as he pushed the door open and started to toss the man out towards the ground.
Sighing, Minghao grabbed Mingyu’s arm, feeling the larger man push back against him, fire in his eyes, before he realized who had a hold of him. “What? Are you gonna punch me? Throw him out and meet me in the back. We need to talk.”
The sound of the man’s body hitting the concrete makes Minghao shake his head as he hears those waiting in line let out a reaction. Some of them are amused and others seem shocked or horrified. Throwing up his hands, Mingyu meets some of their eyes before slamming the door and rolling his neck as he follows Minghao back towards the warehouse, feeling his blood boiling.
“Can we make this quick? I really don’t trust Soonyoung on the door alone. He lets any chick through the door if she flashes her tits…”
Shooting Mingyu a look, Minghao scoffs at the man’s words before running his hand over his face out of stress and impatience. “You used to too, Mingyu. Cut him some fuckin’ slack… matter of fact, cut everyone some slack tonight.” Minghao’s words are strained as he meets his friend’s eyes, seeing the same look he’s seen for weeks.
Shaking his head, Mingyu lifts his hand to run it through his hair before turning away from Minghao to take a deep breath. He could feel himself getting angry at his friend and he didn’t want to let his anger get the best of him. He wasn’t like this all the time… just when he was stressed or tired and lately that was all he knew.
“What—you know what, Hao? We spend all fucking night catering to these drunk assholes who grope the girls or pick fights with us and you expect me to just cut them some slack?” There was a layer of resentment in Mingyu’s voice as he finally turned back to face Minghao and meet his eyes.
Throwing up his hands, Minghao groans, feeling his own frustration coming to a boiling point. He had tried to get Mingyu to take a night off but the big oaf had been too stubborn; now they were all paying for it.
“I’m just saying that you need to chill the fuck out. It’s either that or you can go the fuck home. You understand me?” Watching Mingyu’s jaw clench, Minghao clenches his own and takes a step closer to the man he has known for the better part of a decade. “Go out there and enjoy this job—at least pretend to. Find a girl and get your dick wet—something! But stop walking around like you are going to knock everyone’s head off.”
Mingyu wanted to. He really did. He had been spending more and more time in the gym with a punching bag in front of him, to the point that his knuckles would swell and bleed. Right now, he wanted to put someone’s head through a wall, but even thinking about it made his skin crawl. Minghao was right; he even knew this wasn’t like himself. He felt like he was drowning.
Taking a shaky breath, Mingyu takes a step back from Minghao and runs his hand over his lips before looking around the room. “I just… I’m not sleeping. I’ll call it for the night, alright?” Mingyu didn’t look for sympathy and he didn’t want to look weak because he wasn’t. So even now, as he felt Minghao get closer to him, he wanted to bolt out of the room as bile rose in his throat.
“Like I said—get your ass out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The sound of his phone going off made Mingyu feel like his head was going to explode. He had done what he said he was going to do after leaving work. He had gone home and gone to bed. It hadn’t been his fault that his sleeping partner had been a fresh bottle of Jack and that bottle now lay empty next to him.
Smacking at the nightstand with a large hand, Mingyu swipes the phone from it and puts it to his ear with a groan as he answers it. “What?” His voice is deep, full of sleep, as Mingyu rests his forearm over his eyes, trying to block out the sun that dares to peek around his black out curtains.
Jun smirks against his thumbnail as he hears the sound of Mingyu’s voice. He knew Mingyu had gone home early the night before and he had assumed that the man would be all bright eyed and ready to get on with his day; instead, he sounded like he had just crawled into bed.
“Morning sweetheart. Did I wake you?”
Whining to the sound of Jun’s voice, Mingyu turns to his side, laying the phone on the pillow next to him for a moment before putting it back against his ear and forcing his eyes open. If it were anyone else, he could tell them to shove their phone up their ass and not call them back, but no, it had to be Wen Junhui.
“It was a long night. Do you need me? I can be there in like—” Mingyu starts to count up how long it would take him to shower off the stink of whisky and to get dressed when Jun smiles into his words and saves him the trouble. “I do need you, Gyu. I always do, but I’m already on the way to the airport. Much to my surprise, I need you for other things.”
Furrowing his brows, Mingyu sits up with a pained groan, feeling the blood rush from his head and eyes. He knew Jun was picking on him, but what could he possibly need help with if he and his lady were already going out of town? Blinking a few times, Mingyu slides off the bed and rubs at his neck with his free hand as he trudges towards his kitchen.
“What things? Guns?” Mingyu sounds confused and tired as Jun listens to the sound of him rummaging around his apartment. Turning to look at Haneul, his fiancée as he runs his fingers along her cheek, Jun sighs and shakes his head. “No, that’d be easier. I got a call earlier from my sister. She’s landing in a couple hours.”
Taking a large gulp of water, Mingyu pauses midswallow, only to get choked at the thought of Jun having a sister. Did he know that? Had he met Jun’s sister? What did this have to do with him? Coughing, Mingyu shakes his head and takes a breath, barely hearing Jun sigh in annoyance until he catches his breath and wipes at his lips, his voice a bit strained. “Sister? Landing? Like a flight? Where?”
“You are learning new words, Mingyu?” Feeling Haneul smack at his hand and telling him to be nice, Jun sighs and purses his lips before rolling his eyes and explaining. “Yes, my sister, Y/N. Her flight lands at Incheon at 4:45 pm. I want you to pick her up and take her to the family penthouse.” Pinching his brows, Jun shakes his head and lets out a breath. “She didn’t tell me until this morning she was even coming or else I would have... it doesn’t matter. Just keep her entertained until I get back.”
His mouth felt dry as Mingyu nodded along with Jun’s words, as if they were a language that he understood. First he learned that Jun had a sister and now he was learning that he had to pick you up and keep you entertained. How did one entertain their boss’ sister?
“Wha—sure…okay. What does Y/N like? Should I just take her to the lounge—-”
“Fuck no. Don’t you fucking dare take her to the bar. She’s a respectable woman, Kim Mingyu. Keep her away from anything that is remotely underground, understand?” Waiting to hear Mingyu agree with him, Jun nods along with his ‘yes’ before continuing. “Also, keep it in your fucking pants.”
Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Mingyu tries to speak and come up with what to say in response to that, but the line goes dead, with Jun hanging up on him. Lowering his phone to the counter, Mingyu looks at the time and shakes his head. 2:15 pm… he had a little time to make sure he didn’t look like garbage.
“I don’t even know what Kim Mingyu looks like, Minghao.” You pout into your words as you roll your carry-on next to you towards baggage claim, your phone resting between your ear and shoulder.
Minghao smiles at the sound of your voice as he shakes his head and sits down behind Jun’s desk at the lounge to turn on the laptop in front of him. “Look for a big idiot with nice hair. I’m sure he will have a sign with your name on it, honey.”
Wrinkling your nose, you lift your eyes towards where most of the drivers and families were waiting, managing to see one man who stood out amongst the rest. He was tall, muscular, and gorgeous. Biting your lip, you try to see who’s name he’s holding, but the writing is messy, making it almost impossible to read unless you get closer.
“Wow, is he really, um–” You try to think of how to ask Minghao about Mingyu when you sigh and bite the bullet, laughing. “Hot?” Lifting his brows, Minghao hears how you laugh and it makes him curious and a bit worried. He had already been told to tell Mingyu to behave, but did he need to tell you the same thing? “He’s... decent looking for an oaf, Y/N.”
Nodding, you smile at the tall man as he glances down at his sign and back up at you, tilting his head like a puppy. “Then I found him. Talk to you soon, Minghao.” You hear Minghao try to speak, but you are quicker to end the call. Getting close enough to read your name in the chicken scratch on the piece of paper in the man’s hands. You laugh softly and look up at him with a sigh. “You must be, Mingyu.”
Fuck. Fuck! That’s the only word that is repeating in Mingyu’s mind as he looks at you. He had to be decent. He has to respect you, but fuck! You are so beautiful. Swallowing hard, Mingyu nods before lowering the paper in his hand and nodding. “Miss Wen… I’ll get your bag. Jun told me to take care of you and get you to your family’s penthouse.”
You watch as Mingyu turns his head away from you, quickly making your lips pull up in a curious smile. Following him towards the luggage carousel, you can’t help the way your eyes move along his body and land on his biceps as he pulls your suitcase from the track before turning back towards you and reaching out for your carry-on.
“So... you are a driver for my brother?”
Your words cause Mingyu’s brows to furrow, his breath getting caught in his throat as he walks with you towards the parking garage, being careful of traffic. Glancing towards you, he offers you a smile before tilting his head as if trying to think of the right thing to say before letting out a breath and finally speaking. “Uh, sometimes. I do a lot of things for your brother.”
Reaching the G Wagon with him, you purse your lips, surprised not to see something different even as Mingyu loads your luggage into the back and moves around to open his passenger's side door for you. Seeing the look on your face, he lifts his brows slightly and presses his lips together, glancing at his car and back at you.
“Is... is this not okay? Do you want to sit in the back? Do you not like my car?” Scratching the back of his head, Mingyu watches your lips pull up into a smile as he rambles. “Jun just told me to pick you up, so honestly, I don’t know much about what you do and don’t like... Miss Wen.”
Finally laughing, you slide past Mingyu and climb into the car, glancing up at him as he rests his hand on the door, giving you a curious look. Letting out a breath, you lean your head back into the leather headrest and reach for the seatbelt as Mingyu keeps his eyes on you, even as they move along your face and down your body before he quickly moves them back up, realizing what he is doing when you finally speak to him. “I don’t like being called Miss Wen. Just call me Y/N, please.”
Swallowing hard, Mingyu then rubs his lips together out of nerves before lowering his head with a laugh. He just didn’t want to piss Jun off and while trying not to do that, he was being weird around you. Patting the top of the door frame, Mingyu nods before taking a step back to close your door. “You got it, Y/N.”
Glancing around the large living room, Mingyu glances towards you as you drop your bag onto the couch before moving towards the floor to ceiling windows. He knew he really didn’t have to do much more for you. Yes, Jun had told him to keep you entertained, but he had done the first part. He had gotten you from the airport to the penthouse. The bar was going to open soon.
Biting at his lip, Mingyu takes his phone from his jacket pocket and checks his messages when you glance back to look at him in the hallway, your luggage on either side of him. You could see his brows furrowed even from across the room. He had seemed so tense the entire drive from the airport and you could barely get him to open up to you. He was like a puzzle that you were dying to solve.
“Talking to your girlfriend?”
Your words pull Mingyu out of his haze as he reads Minghao’s text and back into the present with you. Lifting his brow, Mingyu scoffs but quickly clears his throat before shaking his head and sending a quick text back to Minghao. "No, I don’t have one. I was just letting Minghao know I had you here. Seeing if he wanted me at the loun—at work.”
You watch as Mingyu quickly changes his wording and clears his throat once again. Stepping closer to the middle of the room, you can see the way he swallows hard and you know it’s because he’s trying to hide something from you. Smirking, you nod and gesture towards your bags before pointing towards another hallway. Mingyu’s eyes follow your hand before finding your eyes once again when you speak, some teasing in your voice. "Well, before you leave me for my brother’s shady bar, can you put my stuff in my room?”
Mingyu feels his stomach in his throat as you mention the bar and start to walk towards the bedrooms. Groaning, he closes his eyes, feeling his phone go off in his hand, finding himself unwilling to look at it right away as he listens to your high heels click against the floor.
So you knew about the lounge. Jun had told him you were a respectable woman. Mingyu had done his own research. Respectable was putting it simply. You were a doctor and where Jun might have lined his family’s pockets in his own way, you were like a beacon of joy for them, with your face in scientific journals and standing in front of hospitals with sick children. The lounge was so far away from who you were.
Looking around the master bedroom, you nod before glancing back towards the door when Mingyu moves into the doorframe, only to stop and clear his throat as if asking for permission. He was not only breathtakingly handsome, but one of the most adorable men you had ever seen. You knew he worked for your brother in some capacity and in his less than desirable business adventure, but you couldn’t imagine it right now. Mingyu did not seem like the type of man to work for your brother. Then again, at one point in your life, you said the same about Minghao.
“You can come into the room, Mingyu. What did my brother say to you to make you so afraid of me?” You smile, a small laugh in your words, as you take a step backwards to sit on the end of the bed as Mingyu puffs up his cheeks.
Pushing your suitcases into the room, Mingyu looks down at you on the bed and he feels the image being burned into his brain as he tries not to imagine you lying back on it as he—sighing—shakes his head and lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “He told me to take care of you. Entertain you while he was gone, but he also told me to behave... in not so many words.”
Biting at your lip, you laugh once again, lifting your leg to cross it over the other, feeling Mingyu’s eyes drop to your legs before he has to force himself to look away, pulling out his phone once again to check his messages. “Behave, huh? And what does that mean? Are you bad, usually?”
Feeling heat rising in his neck, Mingyu swallows hard, not only at the text messages from Minghao but also at your words. What were you trying to do? You were obviously testing him. You were teasing him. He should run for the hills and a cold shower.
Laughing, Mingyu focuses on his phone, sending one last text to Minghao, pressing send harder than necessary as you watch him closely. “Who are you texting, Mingyu? Still talking to Minghao? I might start to get jealous. I thought you were supposed to entertain me.”
Glancing at you over his phone, Mingyu sees the smirk on your lips. You were causing some intense feelings for him. He was afraid of you for so many reasons already. You were bad for his job and his friendships. You were a brat and he could tell you were having fun, seeming to know that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Minghao: Don’t need you tonight. Jun wants you to get some shit and guard Y/N
Mingyu: You gotta be kidding me.
Minghao: I don’t need to remind you, but I will, because she’s like my sister too
Minghao: Keep your dick in your pants
Mingyu: I’m not an animal
Minghao: Yes, you are. Don’t let anything happen to her
Minghao: Understand me?
Mingyu: I understand!
Giving you a strained smile as he shoves his phone into his pocket, Mingyu takes a step back from you and lifts his shoulders with a deep breath. “Which room is mine?”
You had already known that Mingyu was going to be assigned to be security for you until your brother got back, even if you had told Jun and Minghao that you didn’t need a babysitter. At the time when you said it, you hadn’t known who Mingyu was or how much fun it might be. Now you are happy to have company.
Smiling, you slide off the bed and up to your feet, glancing around your room with a teasing smile as Mingyu lets out a breath, afraid of what you are implying. Stepping past him, you glance up at him, letting your fingers trail over his hand before moving to the door. “Follow me.”
Mingyu’s skin felt like it was on fire where your fingers had brushed over his. He was being stupid with just a small touch, but god, you were driving him crazy. You knew exactly what you were doing; it was going to take everything in him to keep some professionalism about him during this. He was already counting down the days, hours, and minutes until Jun would be back and this job would be over.
Following behind you, Mingyu lets his eyes move down your back and over your ass before he glances off to the side when you make a quick right turn into the room right beside yours and nod. Glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, you lift your hands to do a quick eye to hand measurement of his height before doing the same for the bed and making an unsure sound. “You might fit, big boy.”
Unable to stop the scoff before it starts to leave his mouth, Mingyu walks past you into the room and looks at the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, and he wasn’t that big. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu watches you smirk at him before you glance around the rest of the room and pout your lips at him. “You didn’t bring anything with you? Maybe I could take a ride with you and stretch my legs while you pack a bag.”
You knew he didn’t have anything else with him. Clearly, he hadn’t been planning on staying, but you seemed to have known he was going to be sticking around before he did. Sighing, Mingyu scratches at his eyebrow before gesturing towards the door and giving you a strained smile. You could tell you were wearing him down. You wanted to crack him. Get to the real Kim Mingyu, not this professional mask he was wearing for the sake of your brother.
Mingyu hadn’t expected you to follow him up into his apartment, so when you did, he could feel the heat rising in his neck and face. His apartment was nothing compared to the penthouse you were staying in or the penthouse that Jun owned. All Mingyu had was a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in a decent part of town and he kept it pretty clean. Thank god.
“Uh, I’ll be quick. Just—” You watch as Mingyu hurries past you into his living room to swipe a gun from his coffee table, a few bullets hitting the floor as he curses under his breath, leaning down to pick them up. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Mingyu pushes the bullets into the magazine in his hand before pushing the magazine into the pistol and hearing it click.
Your brows were raised and you were watching him curiously. He hadn’t planned for you to be in his space. He had been cleaning one of his guns the night before, well before the bottle of jack, but normally people weren’t inside his apartment. Especially people who looked like you and were decent, normal people.
Following Mingyu with your eyes, you watch as he leaves the door crack, probably to listen to in the other room as he grabs a bag and starts to fill it with various things. You weren’t surprised that he had a gun and it didn’t bother you; in fact, it made him even sexier somehow. You felt a bit safer around him knowing that he was armed, especially if he was supposed to be taking care of you.
Looking over the books on his shelves, you tilt your head and smile at the titles. They weren’t what you would expect someone like Kim Mingyu to have. As that thought crosses your mind, you think to yourself that it isn’t fair of you to think that. You didn’t know him well enough to judge his reading habits or intelligence. You just hadn’t expected to see The Count of Monte Cristo sitting on his shelf with the binding broken as if it had been read several times.
Pulling the book out, you hold it delicately in your hands as you flip through, reading over the words—some you remember, others that you hadn’t forgotten, having not read it in so long. What makes you smile are the notes in the margins in the same chicken scratch that you had seen your name written in at the airport.
Grabbing a few things from his bathroom, Mingyu zips up his bag and checks his pistol before sliding it into the holster under his jacket. You were quiet in the other room and that was making him nervous. He had tried to be quick while packing, but he had no idea what to bring, so he went simple and only took what he needed.
Turning the corner into his living room, Mingyu stops in his tracks, seeing you standing in front of his bookshelf with one of his books in your hands. You were gorgeous in the evening light pouring in from the decently large windows he had been blessed with, and you had the prettiest smile on your lips as you ran your fingers over the margins of the book. He could already tell what book you were looking at before even getting closer. It was his favorite, but that was probably easy to see, which is probably why you picked it up. It was obviously the most well loved book on the entire shelf.
“All human wisdom is contained in these two words–Wait and hope.” You read the quote from the book that Mingyu had re-written at the top of the page before glancing up at him as he watches you carefully. Closing the book, you slide it back into his place and take a breath before offering him a smile. “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?”
Laughing into a scoff, Mingyu adjusts his bag on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I just enjoy the idea of revenge being fulfilled, I think.” Mingyu watches you nod and take a few steps closer to him, the air feeling thicker as he tries to take a breath only to get a deep breath of your perfume.
“And it has nothing to do with the love story attached to it? That isn’t why you’ve read that book so many times that the pages are falling out.” Mingyu’s eyes fall to your lips as you speak and he has to force himself to look back up to your eyes before pulling his gaze away from you and towards the window with the golden light.
“It’s just a story.” You think to yourself as you hear the words come out of Mingyu’s mouth—what a beautiful liar he is.
Leaning back in the chair, Mingyu glances around the penthouse as you open the fridge and sigh. He wasn’t sure what you had expected to be in there. From what he understood, you hadn’t given Jun much of a heads up about this visit so it wasn’t like he could have things stocked and ready to go for you. Obviously, there wasn’t going to be a fridge full of food just waiting for you to use.
“What is your favorite food, Mingyu?” Closing the fridge, you turn back towards the living room to lean against the kitchen island to face Mingyu. He looked surprised by the question, but you already had your phone out and were ordering groceries while waiting for him to answer you.
“Whatever you like.”
Smirking at his answer, you glance up from your phone and tilt your head before stepping around the island and into the living room to sit on the couch closest to the chair that Mingyu had chosen. The moment you had gotten back to the penthouse, you had opted to change. Your flight had been long; you were ready to get out of your clothes and into something more comfortable, so now you were in leggings and a tight tank top that Mingyu was having a hard time not staring at.
“Oh? You like all the foods I like now? Have we reached that point in our relationship, darling?” Teasing him, you smile when Mingyu rolls his eyes and runs his hand over his mouth, opting to lean forward and look down at his knees to keep himself in check. You could almost see the stress rolling off of him; he needed a massage, maybe a vacation, but he for sure needed a good fuck before he suffered a heart attack. “I’m just picking on you, Mingyu.”
He knew what you were doing and he wasn’t an idiot. You weren’t some angel like your brother and Minghao thought you were. Shaking his head, Mingyu glances up to meet your eyes before leaning back in the chair and laying his head back against the back of it. “Anything with meat. I’m not a fucking rabbit. If you need me to go get food, I can. Just give me a list.”
Lifting your phone, you show him the groceries you had ordered and then swipe over to the delivery app to show him where you had chosen to get dinner from. “Work for you? We’ve already been out enough today. I’d rather we both stay in for the rest of the evening.”
Mingyu couldn’t argue with you on that. Nodding to the choices, he stands to take off his jacket, drawing your attention to not only his arms under his t-shirt but also the gun holster on his side. Feeling your eyes on him, Mingyu takes a breath and shakes his head as he takes the pistol from the holster and turns it to the side to show you his thumb resting against the safety. “It’s on. I know how to use it, or else your brother wouldn’t have asked me to be here.”
While you were curious about how and why Mingyu was so comfortable with the gun, you just nodded and leaned back on the couch, crossing your legs as he moved to put his gun down on the dining room table so he could unhook his holster and take it off.
“I wasn’t going to ask if you knew how to use it, Mingyu. I mean, clearly, you do. Dressed like that.” Meeting your eyes briefly, Mingyu smirks as you glance away quickly and back to your phone as he lays the leather holster down on the table next to his pistol. Maybe it was that he had been with you for so many hours and that he was still feeling hungover, but what could it actually hurt to give you a taste of your own medicine. “Yeah, dressed like what, sweetheart?”
You close your eyes, feeling yourself clench the moment Mingyu calls you sweetheart and his voice drops an octave. He was fighting dirty now and your body was a traitor. Shifting your legs, you tighten your thighs and clear your throat as you tilt your head, letting out a scoff. If he wanted to play, you could play.
“Like that, you know, like a bad boy.” Giving Mingyu a once over, nice and slow, you finally meet his eyes and find that was a mistake as he lifts a brow and grins at you. Taking a deep breath, you think you turn your head away slowly, coolly, calmly, and collected—but Mingyu sees you panic and look away, making his ego grow.
“What if I am a bad boy? Is that what you asked me before? If I was bad? If I misbehaved?”
When had his voice gotten so low and sexy? When did Mingyu get so close? You could feel his hands on either side of you on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, standing behind the couch, but you didn’t dare look up. Instead, you focus on your phone even as you tap your foot against the floor, trying to hide how you are pushing your thighs together. Shrugging, you sigh, but it comes out shakier than intended, especially when you speak up. “I—well, I did ask that, but I was teasing you.”
Grinning, Mingyu leans down to speak next to your ear, his eyes on your lap as he does. “And I’m teasing back. Can’t handle the heat? Stay out of the kitchen, baby.” Blowing a kiss next to your cheek, he laughs before standing back at his full height and stretching, pulling his arms behind him as he walks around the couch and towards the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower; let me know when dinner is here.”
You could feel sweat running between your breasts and your neck at how hot Mingyu had literally made you. Swallowing, you run your tongue over your lips and lean your head back against the couch, hearing the door to his bedroom shut, giving you a moment to finally catch your breath. God, you were in trouble. It had been fun at first, but now you wanted him. You wanted him badly.
The rest of the night had gone fine. Even sleeping in a bed that wasn’t his—that was fine, but what wasn’t fine was waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you barely wearing anything. You were standing in front of the fridge, one hand on the door, the other pulling the carton of juice out, as you ran your toes along the back of your exposed calf. Mingyu couldn’t help but let his eyes run along your bare legs up to where your tiny shorts barely covered your ass.
“I—aren’t you cold? I mean standing in front of the fridge like that.”
Mingyu wasn’t much better than you were. He hadn’t opted to put on a shirt, so when you looked over at him, ready to give him some smart comments back, you almost lost grip of the juice in your hand. Choking on your words, you close the fridge and turn towards the kitchen island, reaching up to pull down two glasses, sneaking glances towards the man as you pour juice in both. “I—no. No… I’m not cold. It’s the summer, Mingyu. Clearly, I mean, you’re running around half naked.”
Looking down at his torso, Mingyu shrugs, moving closer to the other side of the island, reaching out for one of the glasses of orange juice as you slide it to him. You had a point, but in his opinion, it was one thing for him to be shirtless and it was another for you to have your ass hanging out and your tits—god, your tits—just on display through that thin little tanktop.
Swallowing his juice hard, Mingyu looks away from you, trying hard to think with his brain and not his cock, even as he feels it threatening to get hard just looking at you. Keep your dick in your pants. That’s what he had been told twice by Jun and Minghao, and yet you had been looking at him like he was a fucking three course dinner from the moment he had picked you up at the airport. How was he supposed to keep it civil with you when you were acting like you wanted to fuck him as badly as he wanted to fuck you—and he barely knew you. Did that even matter at this point? It had never mattered before with any other girl.
You were doing your best not to ogle Mingyu, but it was easier said than done. With your glass against your lips, your eyes walked the line from his face to the top of his pajama pants, where they hung low on his lips. You could trace the line of his v-cut and you could imagine doing it with your fingers or your lips, it was only when he cleared his throat, sat his glass down and moved around the island towards you that you were startled enough to stop staring.
“What are you doing?” Shifting out of Mingyu’s way, you watch as he opens the fridge and mutters to himself, ignoring your question as he pulls out a few things and sits them on the counter. Giving you a smile, he furrows his brows and opens a few of the lower cabinets until he finds the pots and pans he wants. “Making breakfast, sweetheart. What’s it look like? Didn’t look like you were gonna do it. I figure bigwig doctors don’t have to cook for themselves anyway.”
Rolling your eyes, you shift slightly, letting Mingyu pull the drawer open next to you as you feel his body pressed against yours. His skin was hot to the touch, and while his words frustrated you, having him so close made you struggle not to grab him.
Taking a spatula from the drawer, Mingyu winks at you and pushes the drawer shut, stepping back to hear you let out a slow breath. He could tell you were irritated with him. He liked it. You were a brat and he was enjoying pushing your buttons. It didn’t matter if you were this smart as fuck doctor who could probably run laps around him when it came to most things, he could still teach you a few lessons.
“What? What’s that look for? Am I wrong? You don’t have a personal chef?” Cracking a few eggs into a bowl in front of him, Mingyu watches you cross your arms over your stomach as you scoff. You weren’t able to say anything, which told him he wasn’t that far off. “Or you do. Is that a doctor thing or a Wen thing?”
“You are so fucking annoying... I hope you cook as well as you run your mouth.” There was some fire to your tone of voice and it was going straight to Mingyu’s cock again. Smirking to himself as he pours the eggs into the pan, he adjusts the heat and meets your eyes only for a second before taking a few slices of bacon from the package and adding them to another pan.
“Afraid I’ll try to put something in your mouth you won’t like?” Mingyu’s words make your cheeks heat up. Scoffing, you try to think of the right thing to say, but nothing comes to mind quickly enough so he fills the empty space with his irritatingly handsome laugh. “Come on, you know that was funny. I have to tease you a little bit. You’ve been keeping me on my toes, sweetheart.”
Pushing your tongue against your cheek, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he puts the bacon next to the eggs and puts the pan back on the stove, only to rest his hand on the counter next to your hip. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and you’ll make me think you want me to do more than tease.”
“Yeah? And what happened to behaving?” You smirk, looking down at Mingyu’s hand, then back up at his eyes as he takes a step closer to you. Both of you knew this was a bad idea, but as you bite at your pretty bottom lip, letting it get caught between your teeth as you smile at him, Mingyu’s resolve breaks. Stepping in front of you, he puts his other hand on the other side of you to keep you pinned to the island as you take a deep, shaky breath. “I think I’m done trying to behave. How ‘bout you, sweetheart?”
Mingyu had put the ball in your court. He wasn’t touching you yet. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. He would listen to you if you told him to get away, but those words never left your mouth. Instead, you whine his name, reaching up to grab him by his neck and pulling him down to your lips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, feeling your nails scratch at the back of his neck and into his hairline. It had been a while since a kiss had made him feel like this. He usually avoided kissing his hookups, but occasionally they would whine about it enough that he’d give in and they were nothing like this. They were nothing like you.
Sliding his hands from the counter to your hips, Mingyu nips at your lips as his fingers dig into your flesh through your clothes and he lifts you up and onto the counter. Stepping between your legs, he smiles against your lips before licking the seam of your lips, asking for permission until you give it to him, parting your lips. His tongue glides along yours and he groans to the taste of your mouth as his hands pull you forward and into his hips, letting you feel his cock hard between your legs.
Furrowing your brows, you lean your head back to take a breath, hoping your mind might clear—that you might come to your senses—but Mingyu’s lips move to your jaw and then your neck. He only makes you want him more. You weren’t like this usually. No man could make you throw yourself at them, but there was something about Kim Mingyu. Maybe it was being away from home and having no one around to tell you to be perfect. You felt like you could go on desire instead of common sense.
“Oh my god, Mingyu...” You sound so desperate that it makes Mingyu groan against your throat, his hands finding the counter under you once again. He feels his cock twitch in his pajama pants at the breathy moans leaving your mouth and every single lie that he will have to tell Jun and Minghao feels worth it.
“Fuck, you sound so pretty. Just like an angel.” Taking a step back, Mingyu runs his fingers along the sides of your legs, feeling chill bumps spread along your skin until he meets your shorts. Tilting his head, he licks his lips and meets your eyes, looking for you to give him permission as he pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts. Nodding, you lift your hips and press your lips together when Mingyu tugs your shorts down to your thighs with a groan. “Baby, you’re trying to kill me. You knew what you were wearing when you came into this kitchen. You were asking for me to fuck you, huh?”
Shaking your head, you still smile as Mingyu lifts your legs and drops your shorts onto the kitchen floor at his feet. You shiver at the feeling of his nails lightly scratching along the slides of your legs as he steps back between your legs, his eyes falling to his prize. “‘Course you were. It’s okay; you can tell me, angel. Have you been this wet the entire time?”
Lifting his hand to his lips, Mingyu runs his tongue along the pad of his thumb as you watch. Keeping his eyes on you, he uses his thumb to spread your wet folds, searching for your clit. When you arch your back, pushing your hips toward his hand, Mingyu smirks and draws a circle around the small bundle of nerves.
“Please, please, oh my god.” Your voice goes straight to Mingyu’s cock. He feels himself start to leak against his pants as he turns his hand, brushing his knuckles against your folds when you lift your hips, trying to get more from him.
“Please what? You know... you haven’t been very nice to me, Y/N.” Mingyu meets your eyes, and as he pouts his lips, his words almost sound sad. Scoffing, you glance down at his hand only to have his free hand grab your chin, bringing your eyes back to his face. “Eyes on me. You have teased me since you got here. You might be pretty as an angel, but you are a brat. I need to teach you a lesson, baby.”
Whining, you lean your head back, a pout on your lips this time as Mingyu’s fingers move from your pussy to your leg. “No, no… I’m sorry. Touch me. I can be good.” Mingyu’s lips pull up in a smirk as he tilts his head, listening to your begging. He could get used to the sound of that, but it wasn’t good enough. All he had done was threaten, and he had to follow through.
“Are you scared?” Strong hands grip your hips as Mingyu slides you to the end of the counter. You meet his eyes and try to think about how to answer him. Swallowing hard, you nod, and Mingyu nods, lifting one hand up to cup your cheek. Taking a step back, he leans in and kisses you so sweetly that your head spins, only for you to gasp into a surprised moan when his other hand comes down in a sharp slap over your wet folds. “Want me to stop?”
Breathing hard against his lips, you close your eyes tightly to the strange feeling of pain and pleasure as Mingyu’s fingers run through your folds once again. Pushing his index finger into your tight hole, he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer, but you only shake your head. “Words, angel, or I will stop.”
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you push Mingyu’s finger into you further and he groans on your lips, meeting your eyes. Leaning in a few inches to press your lips to his, you speak between kisses, keeping your eyes on his. “Don’t stop. Teach me a lesson, Mingyu.”
A deep groan comes from Mingyu’s throat, almost a growl as he leans his forehead against yours, hearing those words come out of your mouth. You were where this untarnished, this perfect white rose… and he was going to ruin you.
“Oh, I’ll teach you something you’ll never forget, baby. You're dripping down my finger, just like a little whore.” Gasping not only at Mingyu’s words but also at the feeling of a second finger pushing into you beside the first, you grab at his wrist again. Mingyu grins, an almost cruel laugh on his lips, as he rubs his fingers back slowly towards his palm, feeling your soft walls on his fingertips. “I thought you were supposed to be respectable. That’s what your brother told me.”
Trying to lift your lips, you whine Mingyu’s name when his free hand pushes your hips back down on the kitchen counter. Tsking at your behavior, he leans his head back and meets your eyes as he lifts his brows and slides his fingers out almost all the way. “I’m talking, angel. Stop being so fucking impatient. You told me to teach you a lesson, so listen to me.”
Fingers plunge back into you, causing you to choke on a moan. Mingyu relishes the sounds coming from your mouth as much as he enjoys the feeling of your pussy sucking his fingers back in with every thrust.
“Please… please. I’m good. I’m listening.” Your words are almost incoherent babbling and Mingyu can’t help but smirk. Were you that drunk off of him already? He had barely started. All you had gotten from him was a kiss and his fingers fucking you, and you were struggling to remember how to speak.
“So fucking pretty and making such a mess.” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment because you know that Mingyu isn’t lying. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers fuck into you at such a brutal pace that you are seeing stars.
Unable to keep yourself up anymore, you slide your hands back, only to gasp in surprise when you hear the sound of glass hitting the floor and shattering. Mingyu laughs, his eyes on you, as you try to look for what fell. “Who the fuck cares? I don’t even want breakfast anymore. I got mine right here.”
Running your hand over your face, you struggle to catch your breath as you lay back on the counter, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide from you, leaving you right on the edge of your orgasm. If you were any more coherent, you would have yelled at him for not finishing, but you didn’t have time to come to your senses or to be angry. The feeling of Mingyu’s tongue taking the place of his fingers has your stomach in knots. Trying to push your thighs together, you find it impossible as a strong hand holds one leg up, and Mingyu’s face grinds into your pussy.
There were few things that Mingyu loved more than getting his dick wet, but eating pussy was one of them. The feeling of a woman’s thighs around his head, having to take deep breaths between groaning against her soft plush folds—that was better. Mingyu could feel himself getting close to his own climax. He knew he could ask you to let him fuck you, that you’d probably agree, but this was it. This was what he had wanted the moment he walked into the kitchen and saw your ass peeking from under those little shorts.
Digging his nails into your skin, Mingyu nudges his nose against your clit as he sucks at your pussy, enjoying not only your taste but the smell and feeling of you against his mouth and skin. Yes, this was one of his favorite things to do, but with you? This was fucking heaven. You were heaven. He had been calling you an angel because of how you were moaning his name, but tasting your cum on his tongue and feeling you grind against his face? You had to be his one gift from God.
You weren’t sure how many times Mingyu had made you cum on his tongue. You had never felt anyone use their mouth like him and by the time that you had your fingers in his hair pulling him from your thighs, you were sobbing and your legs were shaking. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu licks his lips before glancing back down at his prize with a groan. You were beautiful. From the top of your head to your toes, your pussy—wet and swollen from his mouth was to die for.
“I need—I wanna help you. God, you are trying to kill me.” You watch Mingyu run his fingers through his hair, a sheepish grin on his face as he stands up between your legs. You were out of breath, you looked exhausted and pliant. Mingyu shakes his head as he wipes his mouth, feeling your fingers tugging at his hand, only for him to wrap his fingers around your wrist and keep your hand still.
“I’m good. You did help me.” Shaking your head, you move to your elbows and whine, reaching for Mingyu’s pajama pants, when you realize he’s not hard anymore. Furrowing your brows, you meet his eyes once again to see his brows lift as he licks his lips. “I came, baby. ‘Sides... told you I had to teach you a lesson. It was a lesson in what happens when you tease me.”
Mingyu watches a pout form on your lips. You were devestantly cute and it was bad for not only his job but his health. Jun and Minghao were going to kick his ass or they might just kill him. Shaking his head, Mingyu leans down to press his lips to yours as you whine his name and slide your fingers along his sides, feeling a thin layer of sweat under your hands.
“I know I need a fuckin’ shower now... and you need to eat. I’ll clean up the glass. Don’t step on the other side.”
He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Watching Mingyu move away from you, you furrow your brows as he picks up a dish towel and leans down to clean up orange juice and broken glass. Just moments ago, he was calling you a little whore, and now he was worried about you getting hurt and needing to eat. Biting at your lip, you swallow hard and slide off the counter to pick up your shorts and put them back on as you listen to Mingyu pick up the pieces of your cup.
“Should we—I don’t know, should we talk about what just happened?” Your voice makes Mingyu want to laugh as he puts pieces of glass into the dish towel and tries to avoid cutting his fingers. You seemed confused or maybe even like you regretted it. Shaking his head, Mingyu lets out a breath and moves to the trash with his towel, dropping it all in before meeting your eyes. “Do you wanna pretend it didn’t—”
“Oh my god! No… I liked it. I just—Jun and Hao. Should we talk about—” Lifting his hands, Mingyu laughs, making you stop before you spiral. Moving back around the counter, you watch him take in a deep breath and it draws your eyes to his chest once again. God, he really was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and you had just had his face between your legs. Your mind was spinning.
“It’s between us. I won’t tell them if you don’t. I’d actually prefer to keep my cock attached to my body.” Smirking, Mingyu tilts his head, reaching up to grab your chin, making you meet his eyes instead of looking at his chest. “You seem to be interested in it too, so... deal?”
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He was so lewd. He went from being almost sweet to making you feel like you were dirty. Nodding, you feel Mingyu’s thumb run over your bottom lip as he hums happily. “That’s a good girl. I’m gonna shower, eat what I made, even if it’s cold.”
Dropping his hand, Mingyu lets his fingers trail over your hip as he walks towards the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your head spinning and your thighs aching.
You had hoped that Mingyu would act differently after the morning’s extracurricular activities, but as soon as he got out of the shower and you were back in the living room with him, you found him with his phone in his hand. You were starting to hate his phone. He sat with you on the couch and didn’t care when you tried to lean in close to him, but he didn’t attempt to make any more moves on you.
It was like night and day.
Sighing at his phone, Mingyu shifts against you as you watch tv. Glancing at his wrist, he rolls his eyes and slides letting you unceremoniously fall against the cushions. Pushing yourself back up, your eyes follow him as he moves to pick up his leather jacket and pulls it on before glancing at you with an unsure look in his eyes. Words on the tip of his tongue before he finally bites the bullet, “I have to go into work. It’s gonna be busy, I can’t let Minghao cover that shit alone.”
Sitting up, you glance around the room before meeting his eyes once more as he waits for you to give him permission, though he knows he doesn’t need it. Yes, he was supposed to keep you safe and “entertained”, but what all could happen to you in a cushy penthouse. “So… be a good girl, and I’ll be back in the morning.”
Your mouth falls open and you are on your feet before Mingyu takes the first step. You weren’t going to be a good girl, it seemed. Sighing, Mingyu runs his fingers through his hair. He had a good idea what you were about to ask, but hearing the words come out of your mouth didn’t make them easier to hear or to decline. “Can I come?”
Shaking his head no, he moves past you, feeling your hand grab his wrist as you stomp your feet and whine his name. He had been told explicitly not to bring you to the lounge. Of course, he had already broken some rules with you, which made it harder to look you in the eye.
“Your brother told me to absolutely not bring you to the lounge. Y/N, baby, please. Just stay here and be good. Place isn’t for women like you anyway.” Mingyu’s words make you scoff. Women like you. What did he think you were? Some saint? Trying to jerk Mingyu’s arm back towards you, you aren’t surprised when he is able to pull free with little effort.
Mingyu hated saying no to you, especially with how you were looking at him. He could tell you were upset with him, but he’d rather you be a little irritated than have you being felt up by some low life at the bar. Reaching up to grab your chin between his fingers, Mingyu presses his lips to yours, feeling you pout into the kiss for just a moment until you relax. You couldn’t stay mad at him. It wasn’t like he could just put his life on hold for you, though you desperately wanted him to.
“Mm, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. We’re closed… I’ll treat you so good.” You could feel your knees go weak at the smooth tone of Mingyu’s voice as his fingers traced your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle and you just nodded like the pathetic girl you are before kissing him once more at the door.
Watching the door shut, you whine and throw your head back dramatically before picking up your phone and laying on the couch. You knew Mingyu was probably right, but that didn’t make it any easier to feel like Rapunzel stuck in a glass tower.
Y/N: [picture attached]
Mingyu sighs out a breath of smoke as he uses the palm of his hand to pull his G-Wagon into his usual parking spot. It was already getting late in the afternoon so getting to the lounge this late was like getting to class after the bell.
Taking one last pull from his cigarette, Mingyu tosses it to the pavement before pushing it into the concrete with his boot as he takes his cell phone from his pocket to check his messages from you. He knew he had a few. You were tempting him to come back to the penthouse and as much as he wanted to bring you along, or get back and throw you on a bed, he had a job to do.
Mingyu: That doesn’t look like a good girl. Just a pretty slut with great tits.
Mingyu smirks to himself as you send a string of dramatic responses before he slides his phone back into his jacket and makes his way towards the building. You’d be fine. You were safe and away from the shit that your brother had hoped to keep secret from you. It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault you knew about it, but he could at least do what he was told and not bring you in right under Minghao’s nose.
“Hey man, I thought I was gonna have to do this shit by myself again.” Taking a deep breath, Mingyu shakes his head at Soonyoung’s words as he slips by the smaller man at the door. There were already a few people lined up waiting to get in. He had been in Soonyoung’s place before, and while he could handle it by himself now, he remembered the stress of being newer and being left to the dogs.
“Nah… I’m here. Sorry about last night. Had something else the boss wanted me to do.” Mingyu grabs one of the glasses from the bar and pours himself a shot of whiskey as Soonyoung nods along with his words before droning on about the night before. He liked Soonyoung, but he could already feel a headache behind his eyes as Chan turned up the volume at his booth, the bass causing his ears to ring.
“So, I’m just sayin’... there are some real pricks comin’ every single fuckin’ night.” Leaning his head back, Mingyu winces at the burn of the alcohol before nodding, not even meeting Soonyoung’s eyes. “I get it. Don’t fucking worry about it. If they show up, I’ll take care of ‘em.”
Soonyoung’s shoulders relax at Mingyu’s words. He was happy to have him back. He could do his job and Vernon was decent help, but there wasn’t anyone like Mingyu. It was different when you had a 6’2” wall next to you who wasn’t afraid to put someone in their place. “Cool, cool, alright, man. Thanks.”
For the first couple of hours, Mingyu felt like he could fall asleep at the door. It was mundane and he was beginning to wonder if this was actually a Saturday night or not, but by hour three, he was eating his words. After four bar fights and a debate on whether one man needed an ambulance or not later, Mingyu was taking a much needed smoke break.
Scrolling through texts from you, he found himself smirking at how needy you were being. It wasn’t just that you wanted him to come home and fuck you—it was that you were bored and spoiled. All he had done was play around with you a bit, fuck you on his tongue and fingers and you were already a spoiled little princess.
Mingyu: Baby… I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t you remember what I said? Trying to make me regret it?
Mingyu: Want me to take it back?
Pouting at your phone, you push your head back into your pillows as you kick your legs from under your blankets. You couldn’t believe he was actually going to stay out all night. You couldn’t believe that Minghao would keep him out that late, knowing that you were here, but you also knew you were being unreasonable. You knew that Mingyu had a life before you got here, and he’d have one once you flew back home.
Y/N: No… Just miss you. It’s lonely in this big, ‘ol apartment. How’s work?
With his cigarette between his lips, Mingyu scoffs softly, almost feeling a bit soft at your response. You were so sweet, it was frustrating. You made him feel a bit crazy. Mingyu knew you weren’t his for long. You shouldn’t be his at all… he had made promises, but you had landed in his lap and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
Mingyu furrows his brows at the sounds of footsteps behind him as he looks down at his half written response to you on his phone. It could be anyone; he was behind the building, but not many people came out unless they were doing exactly what he was doing or they were looking for someone. Someone looking for him? Soonyoung? Minghao?
Turning his head and starting to speak, Mingyu feels the breath get knocked from his lungs as the cigarette falls from his lips to the ground along with his phone. Concrete bites at the heels of his hands as Mingyu hits the ground, the sharp feeling of a boot hitting his side knocking any chance of a full breath from his lungs.
“Get up, motherfucker.”
Mingyu groans, tasting copper in his mouth, his head lifting just in time for him to react and use the strength he has to catch the foot aimed at his head. Twisting hard, Mingyu rolls his body over, pulling the man down until he is under him, bringing his elbow down across the man’s cheek with a loud crack.
Neither notices the doors to the building opening until the light spreads over the ground, letting Mingyu see who had attacked him. Lee Eunseok, one of the men he had thrown out earlier in the night for starting a fight, and more importantly, one of Park Bonhwa’s faithful followers.
“Gyu! He’s down, it’s done!”
Minghao’s voice rings in Mingyu’s ears as he lands another punch to the side of Eunseok’s face, feeling muscle and bone give under his knuckles. He only stops when Soonyoung, Minghao, and Vernon pull him off, leaving the other man to catch his breath and bleed on the ground.
Tugging his arms away from his friends, Mingyu’s voice comes out as more of a growl as he feels his lungs and stomach twist in pain. “Get the fuck off me!” Hands move from him, but they stay close, keeping him from going back to Eunseok as he rolls on to his side, laughter escaping his cracked, bleeding lips between words. “Such a little bitch, Kim.” Sliding his hand towards Mingyu’s phone, he looks at the screen at your name before holding it up to show it to Mingyu and the others with a look on his face that makes Mingyu feel sick to his stomach. “Your girlfriend? Should I call her and say hi?”
Minghao moves forward before Mingyu can, grabbing the phone from Eunseok reading your name and turning off the screen. His eyes meet Mingyu’s and it tells him everything he needs to know. Not only had Eunseok struck a nerve, but there was plenty to talk about later.
“Get this son of a bitch off the property.” Mingyu’s eyes never leave Minghao's, even as Soonyoung and Vernon move to lift Eunseok from the ground and drag him towards the parking lot. Offering him his phone, Minghao gives Mingyu a once over shaking his head as the larger man takes it and spits blood onto the ground to clear it from his mouth.
“I don’t wanna talk about—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to talk about. What did I tell you?” Sucking in a breath as he lifts his hand, running it through his hair, Minghao curses under his breath, pointing towards the doors for Mingyu to move. In theory, Mingyu knew he could tell him to shove it up his ass. He could walk away, but he also knew that would be the end of his life. Jun wouldn’t let him just walk away. So Mingyu put his head down like a child in trouble and walked towards the building as Minghao followed in tow.
The sound of the office door closing only makes Mingyu’s head throb more. He felt like he could finally catch his breath, though he knew he had bruised ribs. He could still taste the blood in his mouth and all he wanted to do was go after Eunseok and finish what the man had started. It wasn’t in Mingyu’s nature—at least as of late—to just “let it go”.
Sitting down against the desk, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair, giving Mingyu a good once over. He had seen him be careless the last few weeks, but directly going against orders—even that was bold for him. He knew that you were attractive and could be a tease, that didn’t excuse Mingyu from thinking with his dick instead of his head.
“If Jun finds out—”
“Why does he have to?” Rolling his neck from side to side, Mingyu lets out breath before lowering himself into a chair in front of Minghao. To him, this was simple. He knew that Minghao was Jun’s best friend, but he was also supposed to be his best friend. Where was his protection? Where was his bit of grace when he fucked up? He never got that. He just got sent to a corner or told to clean up someone's shit.
Scoffing, Minghao rests his hands on the desk under him, studying Mingyu. “You think it’s just that easy? That I can lie to Jun about something to do with his sister?” Minghao shakes his head and looks towards a painting on the wall as Mingyu shifts in the seat, feeling anxious, ready to get up and leave.
“Not like I’m knockin—” Before the rest of the words are out of his mouth, Minghao’s eyes are back on Mingyu and his mouth shuts as he rethinks his words again. “It’s just fun. It’s fun for her. I wouldn’t do anything to fuck it up. I’m not stupid.”
That was up for debate as far as Minghao was concerned, especially with what had almost come out of Mingyu’s mouth. Just the idea of him getting you pregnant was enough to give Minghao a migraine and for him to watch Mingyu out of his sight. Lifting his hand, Minghao rubs at his eyes with a groan of annoyance as he shakes his head. His words are strained, and he regrets them as soon as they are spoken. “Just keep it to yourselves. I don’t want to see it and I don’t want to know about it. Jun will break your fuckin’ neck, Gyu.”
Lifting two fingers to his forehead, Mingyu gives Minghao a sarcastic salute as he sighs and pushes out of the chair. “Got it, boss. I’m cuttin’ outta here early. I think getting the shit kicked out of me gives me a pass, don’t you?”
There was something eating at Minghao about how Mingyu was acting, but he couldn’t blame him for wanting to leave a couple of hours early to get some rest after what had happened. Taking a deep breath, he nods before saying Mingyu’s name, watching the large man turn back towards him with a clenched jaw. “Text me when you get home. Just wanna make sure you're feelin’ okay. You were spittin’ up a lotta blood before.”
Waving Minghao off, Mingyu mutters under his breath as he pushes the door open and his eyes move right for the exit. Minghao would be waiting a bit for that text.
Mingyu wasn’t thinking clearly; he was just seeing red as he drove towards where he suspected Eunseok to be. Throwing his car into park, Mingyu winces as he looks at the back of the blacked out Cadillac. He knew he was in the way as Eunseok put the Cadillac in reverse and cursed under his breath while watching Mingyu get out of his vehicle and walk towards his door.
“Get the fuck out.” Point his finger towards the window; Mingyu doesn’t need to see Eunseok’s face to know he can hear him. When he doesn’t open the door immediately, the red Mingyu had been seeing goes to black as he jerks the door open and reaches for the man. He grabs Eunseok’s shirt under his hands and Mingyu grits his teeth, seething as he tries to pull him from the car. Falling back, he feels searing pain in his right arm.
The sound of the gunshot doesn’t even register as much as Eunseok’s panicked breath and the way he fumbles the gun. Taking a step back, Mingyu looks down at his arm, the blood running along the brown leather and he acts before he thinks. His fingers wrap around the grip of his gun and before Eunseok can get off a second shot, Mingyu pulls the trigger, watching the man fall back across the center console.
The ringing in Mingyu’s ears dulls to a low hum as the world seems to slow down. Calming down, his breath slowing, the pain in his arm becomes all the more apparent. Hissing under his breath, Mingyu rolls his shoulder before looking back into the Cadillac at Eunseok’s limp body. He was half expecting the man to move and to groan in pain, but nothing happened.
Taking a step forward, Mingyu furrows his brows as he looks at the blood splattered across the dashboard. His eyes fall to Eunseok and the blood seeps from the wound on his chest. Wiping his hand across his lips, Mingyu groans, stopping himself from reaching for the door to steady himself. He hadn’t meant to kill him. It was self defense—instinct, but that didn’t stop the bile in his stomach from churning.
“Fuck…” Glancing around the parking lot, Mingyu rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to keep himself calm, though his heart was beating hard, causing blood to seep even quicker from the gunshot in his bicep. There wasn’t a lot of time to stand and ponder, so acting on instinct once again, Mingyu reached for Eunseok’s jacket and took out his wallet. Pulling the cash from it, he pockets it and uses his shirt to wipe his prints from the leather before laying it on the man’s lap.
It wasn’t perfect. If he had more time, he’d get rid of the car and Eunseok’s body completely, but the sun was going to rise soon, and Mingyu was bleeding too much. There was already a chance his blood was somewhere and if the cops looked too closely— no, he wouldn’t let himself think about that.
Slamming the door shut, Mingyu wipes down the door handle and stumbles backwards, feeling the loose concrete under his feet as he takes one last look around. There had been many times when he had fucked up, but this time really took the cake. Mingyu slides behind the wheel of his car and winces in pain as he shifts it into reverse, the wheels spinning the gravel as he speeds off towards your penthouse.
Minghao: Has Mingyu gotten in yet?
Y/N: No, he said he’d be back in the morning.
Staring at your phone, you felt a sense of dread in your stomach. Why would Minghao be asking you about Mingyu? And why would he be asking if he was back yet? Something felt wrong.
Pressing down on Mingyu’s name, you put your phone to your ear, listening to the sound of it ringing as you bite on your lips. If he were at the bar, he might not answer you. He had stopped answering your texts, but you had assumed he was busy. But then there was that text from Minghao. Wasn’t he also working?
No answer. You start to pace, your lips starting to feel raw as you hit Mingyu’s name again and listen to the three rings and then Mingyu’s voice tells you he can’t come to the phone. “What the fuck, Mingyu?”
Leaning against the door to the penthouse, Mingyu groans, feeling his phone go off in his pocket. He didn’t know if it was Minghao, Jun, you, or worse... but he just had one thing on his mind, getting inside. You drop your phone on the couch as you hear the sound of the door opening, rushing towards it. Stopping to lift your hands to your mouth in shock as Mingyu moves through the door and leans back against it to take a deep breath.
Your eyes follow the blood as it drips from his jacket onto the white tile, keeping you frozen in place for only a moment until you rush forward and push at his jacket, trying to get it off. “Let me see it.” Shaking his head, Mingyu knocks his head back against the door at your panicked voice. In that moment, he forgets who you are, besides the girl he’s been flirting with. All he can think is that you are being dramatic, but your fingers on his face pulling his attention to you brings him back to reality. “Take off the fucking jacket, Mingyu. I need to see what happened. Is it a gunshot? I need to see if it went through or if I need to get the bullet out.”
Mingyu’s brows furrow as he shrugs his shoulders, letting you remove his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You’re a doctor. That realization comes back to him as you tug his t-shirt sleeve up and carefully inspect his arm. “Gunshot.” One word. That's all Mingyu can manage, but it’s enough for you. Meeting his eyes, you nod and take his left hand, leading him through the living room and finally to the couch.
“Sit down. I need to get a few things.” Pointing at the couch, you wait for Mingyu to sit, but when he doesn’t right away, you sigh and push at his chest to guide him down. “Y/N… I can deal with it myself. You don’t gotta—”
As if you know what Mingyu is going to say, you give him a sharp look, leaning to press your lips against his, silencing him. Leaning back just enough to look him in the eye, you furrow your brows and let out a slow breath. “Stay here and stop fucking complaining.”
Leaning his head back on the back of the couch, Mingyu takes a deep breath, feeling the throb in his arm. Without his jacket on, the pain was even more intense and it felt like you were taking your time. In reality, you were going through your bag as quickly as possible to find what medical supplies you had the forethought to pack. The gunshot on Mingyu’s arm wasn’t life threatening, it wasn’t even something you hadn’t dealt with before, but it was more that it was him.
Your slippers hit the floor as you quickly make your way back to Mingyu, finding him already getting antsy. You knew he could be reckless but now he was being willfully ignorant. Mingyu clinched his teeth as he pushed the skin on his bicep together as if he were making anything about his situation better—as if without any tools he could mend it.
“What the fuck are you doing, Mingyu?! Get your dirty hands off. I swear to God, are you just being stu—” You stop mid sentence when you meet Mingyu’s eyes, seeing what you swear are tears on the rims of his eyes. You knew he was in pain; he had to be. It was one thing to be shot, the bullet to go straight through, but whoever had shot him had almost missed him and the bullet had cut through muscle and flesh, leaving a good two to three inch gash, dripping blood angrily down his arm.
Sitting beside him, your eyes follow Mingyu’s shaky hand as it drops to his lap, blood covering his fingers. “I’m not tryin’ to be stupid. Just… it fucking hurts, Y/N.” Your stomach twists at his words, but you keep your head pulling a pair of gloves on and moving closer to get to work.
You didn’t have everything you would have in a normal hospital setting. There was no anesthetic. You didn’t have anything to make your needle less painful as you worked it through Mingyu’s skin, and yet he didn’t complain. The most you heard from him were sharp breaths and the occasional grunt, but when you put in the final stitch and meet his eyes, Mingyu gives you an exhausted nod.
“It’s not the best work I’ve ever done. If you had gotten here sooner and didn’t fuck with it, I might have been able to save you from some of the scarring, but—” Mingyu’s eyes follow you as you take off your soiled gloves and put them into a bag, along with a few other things, and your voice falls off into a soft breath. He didn’t care about the scar. He had plenty; another one wasn’t going to change anything.
“Thank you. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Mingyu’s words cause you to scoff. Moving to your feet, you carefully discard the items you used before making your way to the sink to scrub your hands. He had no idea how much he had scared you and how much it frightened you that you felt anything about it. “Comes with the job. I mean, not all the time. Shit happened tonight. I didn’t mean—”
Lifting your hands, you look up at Mingyu and shake your head, watching his mouth close, his explanation go unfinished. “I’m not sure I want the specifics. I’m just glad you aren’t any more hurt than this. When I saw the blood—” Letting out a breath, you turn off the sink and lean over the counter, looking down at the white quartz countertop under your fingers. “I know you are used to getting hurt, but it scared the shit out of me, Mingyu.”
The bile that Mingyu felt after seeing what he had done to Eunseok churns in his stomach once again as you speak. His eyes move over your pretty face as you look at the countertop, as if it will ground you. This was why he didn’t get too close to people. If he got hurt or killed, no one would care. No one should care. Why would you care? But if you got hurt, the idea of it—thinking about you hurting like he was tonight—made Mingyu want to scream.
“Well, I’m fine, baby. You patched me up, and if you think I look bad, should’a seen the other guy.” It was a bad attempt at de-escalating the situation and Mingyu knew it. He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Shaking his head, Mingyu looks down at his blood stained fingers as you take a sharp breath, seeming to realize the magnitude of the situation. Mingyu had been shot. Someone had to have been firing that gun. What had happened to the one holding it?
“What about the other guy, Mingyu?” Moving around the kitchen island, you wait for Mingyu to answer you, but instead he stands up and winces at the way the muscle in his arm pulls. Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, looking towards the hallway, before bringing his hand up to his lips to start to wipe them, only to smell the copper and stop. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. Thanks again, Doc.”
Leaning his head back into the stream of water, Mingyu sighs, feeling the stress of the day weighing on him. He had thought that things were getting better. You had been a great distraction for a bit, but today was a painful reminder that his life wasn’t going to change. The pain radiating down into his fingertips was enough of a sign that this was all he was going to get.
There was a reason that Mingyu was the way he was. He didn’t speak to his family. He didn’t keep women around for more than a night. The friends he had were all in the same line of business as he was and he wasn’t sure if things came to push or shove or if some of them would take a bullet for him. Mingyu was good at keeping people at a distance and it was for a good reason.
You had been in his life for less than a week; barely anything had happened between the two of you, and already Mingyu was stressed over you getting hurt. He didn’t want to hurt you or be the cause of it. That had been the main reason he had gone after Eunseok the way he had. If Eunseok hadn’t seen your name, maybe Mingyu would have come back to the penthouse and called it a night. Maybe he could have let everything go, but seeing that smirk on the man’s lips and thinking of a dozen things that could happen to you had sent him over the edge.
Leaning his forehead against the shower wall, Mingyu runs his tongue over his lips, collecting the water from them as he curses himself mentally. What would you think he told you about why he had killed a person tonight? What would you think if you really understood that he had killed someone? You’d be terrified of him, and rightfully so, but that was Mingyu’s life. That was this life that Jun was trying to keep you from.
Hitting his head lightly against the tile as he groans, having made up his mind, Mingyu stands at his full height and reaches over to turn off the shower with more force than necessary. Things had been fun while they lasted but if he was going to keep you safe—safe from him—he needed to distance himself from you. Jun would be back in another week and you would be out of his hair. He just needed to do the bare minimum and keep you out of trouble. You weren’t important to him.
Even thinking the lie made Mingyu feel sick to his stomach as he swiped his hand across the mirror, wiping the condensation from it. His eyes move to his arm and your careful work. While he was in pain, Mingyu knew it could be much worse. He had been in worse situations before, with hack-job doctors patching him up, leaving him with infections. Being careful not to touch the stitches, Mingyu furrows his brows as he runs his fingers along his bicep and sighs your name under his breath as if it will make his plan any easier.
A towel around his waist, Mingyu pushes the door to his bathroom open, still going over what he’s going to say to you once he’s dressed, only to stop in his tracks when he sees you sitting on his bed. Every thought of pushing you away almost instantaneously slips from his mind when you give him a sad smile, lifting your shoulders as your eyes move over his body finally landing on his arm.
“I wanna wrap your arm. You need to keep it clean and dry.” Looking down at the gauze in your hand, you try not to focus on how Mingyu’s body makes you feel, because in that moment, it’s not why you are there. You had come to his room to help him and to tell him something important; it wasn’t your fault that he was wet and almost naked. Clearing your throat, you nod, still looking at your hands and listening to the sound of Mingyu’s feet on the wood floor as you speak. “And I wanted to apologize for what I asked earlier. It’s not my place to question your job. I know you are doing your best. Mingyu—”
Fingers slide along your jaw and the heel of Mingyu’s hand lifts, tilting your head up towards him as he stands next to the bed in front of you. You can see the sadness in his eyes and it makes you want to question him, but instead you just whine his name one more time, breaking his resolve completely. There was no staying away from you, no doing the bare minimum—that was the stupidest idea Mingyu had ever thought of. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of your soft lips against his as he leaned over you.
Your fingers flex in the air before you reach for something in front of you, one hand finding Mingyu’s waist and the other his forearm. The feeling of his damp skin under your hands grounds you and reminds you why you were there in the first place, giving you the strength to pull back from the kiss even as Mingyu chases your lips. “Wait, no, I want it. Please, Mingyu… I want this. I just—let me wrap your arm first. Okay, baby?”
Baby. Hearing that name on your lips causes Mingyu to shudder, his mouth falling open as he nods silently. You tug gently on his arm, bringing him towards the bed, feeling shy under his intense gaze. Your touch is gentle as you work the gauze around Mingyu’s bicep a few times, covering the wound completely. Mingyu smirks to himself, watching how your brows crease in the middle when you concentrate, being careful to place the medical tape in the right places before finally meeting his eyes.
“Am I allowed to kiss you now? Can I move?” You make an unsure sound at Mingyu’s question even as he takes the roll of tape from your hands and puts it on the nightstand beside you. “I—yes, but you have to be careful, and... take these first.” Dodging another kiss, you listen to Mingyu groan in frustration as you swipe two pills from the nightstand and offer them to him along with a glass of water.
“What are they?” Furrowing his brows as he looks at the pills in your palm, Mingyu extends his own hand for you to drop them into before popping them into your mouth without hearing the explanation first. “Vicodin… I don’t have a lot with me, but I keep a few things... just in case.”
Taking a gulp of the water, Mingyu nods along with your words, feeling grateful. He knew he would have had his own way of coping with pain, but your way seemed safer in hindsight. Letting you take the glass of water back, Mingyu tilts his head, waiting for you to stop him once again, but a small smile on your lips causes one to pull on his own. Using his left hand, Mingyu wraps it around your waist and tugs you down in bed, relishing in the sound of your surprised breath as he leans over your body and smiles against your lips.
“Be careful… don’t pop your stitches.” Lightly running your fingers along Mingyu’s right arm, you stay away from the end of the gauze as Mingyu moves his lips to your jaw, speaking between kisses. “‘M fine. I don’t need that arm for this. Just need your clothes off.”
Your mind felt clouded from the moment that Mingyu’s lips were on your skin. You couldn’t think of anything other than him. You were enjoying the warmth of his breath on your neck, the way his nails scratched at your skin as he pulled your clothes from your body, and how big he felt against your thigh under his towel.
Tracing his side, you arch your back as Mingyu’s lips brush over your nipple, his teeth catching the bud between them with a groan. Your fingers push into the top of the towel wrapped around Mingyu’s waist and a soft chuckle against your breast tells you everything that you need to know. Glancing down at where the towel had once been, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses it to the ground, letting you feel his leaking cock against your skin.
“If you wanted my cock out all you had to do was tell me, sweetheart.” Your eyes fall to where you feel Mingyu rut against your leg and your lips fall open in a soft moan at the sight. He was perfect. Everything about him. From his face, to his body, to his cock… he was everything you wanted in a lover. “Oh my god, Mingyu. Let me ride you.”
That hadn’t been what Mingyu had expected. Smirking, he presses a soft kiss on your chest as he meets your eyes and tilts his head. “Yeah, that’s what you want? You don’t want me to fuck you into the mattress?” Whining, you lean your head back, trying to escape his eyes, only for Mingyu to reach up with his left hand to tilt your head back towards him before he works his kisses along your stomach, downwards. “Asked you a question, pretty girl.”
Lifting your hips, you whimper, feeling Mingyu’s breath fanning across your folds as he moves your legs apart so he can rest between them. Putting one leg over his left shoulder, the other bent up and resting to the side, he keeps his eyes on you as he runs his index finger through your wet folds, waiting patiently for you to speak.
“Yes… I mean—fuck, Mingyu. Can’t I ride you tonight? You can have me anyway you want later. Rest your arm. Let me sit on it.” The more you speak, the more embarrassed you get, and your voice gets meeker and meeker. You watch as Mingyu’s smirk spreads into a grin and he leans to press a kiss on your inner thigh before nipping lightly at the soft skin.
“Mmkay, angel. You can sit on my dick, but first I gotta make sure you even can.” Before you can speak, question him about what you already know he’s going to do. Mingyu runs his tongue in a long stripe from your dripping hole to your clit with a groan. Choking back a moan, you grab at the comforter under you, getting flashbacks at how hard he had made you cum at breakfast with his tongue.
“Please, please, please...” Mingyu wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but he wanted to give it to you. He didn’t want to make you wait for an orgasm tonight because, in his mind, that only prolonged his and he was already leaking obscenely as he rocked his hips against the bed under him. The sound of you moaning his name alone was enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but this time he was determined to feel your pussy around his cock.
Working two fingers into you, Mingyu pulls back from your soaked folds to watch your mouth fall open with a silent gasp at the intrusion. You were so tight that even two fingers were stretching you out. He was bigger than two of his fingers, and you were making his mind spin with how you were fucking yourself on them, begging for more.
“Yeah? More? Fuck, you are such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers so good in this tight cunt. What if I—” Pushing a third in beside the first two, Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your thigh when your moan raises an octave, your walls closing around his fingers like a vice. “That’s my girl… Want you to cum for me. You want my cock? You better cum for me.”
Throwing your head back against the pillows, you scream Mingyu’s name as your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave. Even if Mingyu hadn’t told you to cum for him the moment his fingers had filled you the way they had, you were a goner. He seemed to know what made you tick and exactly what to do to make you fall apart, and he did it so well.
Chuckling under his breath, Mingyu brushes his lips along your jaw before pressing a kiss to your lips and nodding to the feeling of your cum soaking his fingers. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, he carefully slides them away from you and groans to the feeling of your body trying to suck them back in. “You are so fucking greedy, angel. What are you doing to me?”
Shaking your head, you whine out Mingyu’s name, trying to answer his question, but you don't know the answer. You weren’t necessarily trying to do anything to him, you just wanted him more than anyone you had ever wanted in your entire life. Groaning on your lips, Mingyu trails his wet fingers along your hip to your side, pushing you down on the bed until you push at his chest, making him laugh. You were persistent.
“I know, baby. I promised. It’s yours.” Licking his lips, Mingyu turns to roll from laying on top of you to resting beside you, adjusting a pillow behind his head. When you meet his eyes, you can’t help but roll your eyes at how cocky he looks. You watch as he licks his fingers clean of your cum and smiles around them, lifting his brows as he waits for you to get moving.
“You are insufferable.” Mingyu laughs at your words, his eyes moving along your body as you move to your knees and slide one leg over his thighs so you can sit over them. Even he had to admit that it was a beautiful fucking view. He could feel his cock jerk and leak from just the sight of you; he couldn’t imagine what he was going to do once he was inside of you. “Yeah? Maybe, but you are the one who’s gonna be sitting on my cock.”
Mingyu’s fingers slide along your thighs as he smirks up at you. He looked too good to be true, lying somewhat impatiently under you. It was almost unfair how perfect he could look even with the gauze wrapped around his arm, a bit of crimson seeping through from movement. Grabbing his right hand, you pin it to the bed gently as you shake your head and wrap your other hand around the shaft of his cock, stroking him slowly. “Keep this arm down.”
Groaning, Mingyu lifts his hips towards your hand and flexes the fingers of his right hand, tightening them into a fist as he grips at your thigh with his left. He both loved and hated this. He loved your hands on him, but he wanted to be inside of you so badly that he wanted to put you back on your back. He wanted to have you on his cock and screaming his name, but instead you had him whining yours.
“Fu—fuck. Don’t tease. I haven’t… I didn’t tease you tonight. Said you wanted to ride me, so ride it.” Mingyu’s strained words have your eyebrows lifting in surprise. Pre-cum was running along your fingers with each stroke of your hand and you were beginning to wonder if you kept doing this for too long if he’d cum. From the sounds leaving his lips, you were almost certain he would.
Moving to your knees, you press your hand to the center of Mingyu’s chest as you use the other to keep his cock exactly where you want him. Your eyes never leave his face as you slowly take him inch by inch until you are sitting flush against his hips, your mouth falling open in a soft moan.
Mingyu tried to keep his hands down and do what you had told him to do, but the moment he was inside of you—feeling you around him for the first time—he felt like his brain was going to explode. Hands grab at your waist as Mingyu groans, trying to sit up and move you over him, desperate to get some relief.
“Why can’t you do what I told you? Be good, Gyu.” Your words were driving him insane. You had to know what you were doing. Your soft fingers trail over Mingyu’s arm, putting his hand back on the bed next to him as your other hand slides up his chest, forcing him back down on the bed.
Rolling your hips down over Mingyu, you have to close your eyes and take a breath, feeling just how much his cock is stretching you. You knew he was big. There was no way you hadn’t noticed, but seeing it and feeling it was different. There was so much about Mingyu that you were getting used to and you were becoming addicted to the feeling.
“I just—fuck, Y/N. Feel so fuckin’ good. Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock, huh? You are squeezing the hell out of me.” You knew you were doing it even before Mingyu told you. No matter how much you tried to relax, it was hard to do as you felt him rutting his hips up towards yours.
Bracing yourself with one hand on Mingyu’s chest and the other holding his left hand, you nod and fall back to your knees, lifting yourself up before sitting back down. The feeling is overwhelming in all the best ways. You can feel how deep Mingyu is inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen and rising even towards your chest as tears coat your eyes.
Mingyu furrows his brows, his eyes fixed on your face, as you get into a rhythm moving over his cock. Each time your ass meets his thighs, he thrusts his hips up hard, listening to you cry out in pleasure.
“Please, it feels so good, Mingyu. I need to cum.” The words are almost spoken on a sob as you start to slow down, getting tired. Mingyu can tell you are frustrated not only by getting tired but also by your desire. Using his left arm, he wraps it around your waist and flips you on your back, reaching between the two of you to push his cock back into you in one fluid motion.
Surprised, you reach for Mingyu’s right arm, only for him to pin your hand to the bed with his right hand and thrust into you hard and deep. “I’m fine… just need you to cum on my cock. That’d make me feel better. Wouldn’t it make you feel better, angel?”
Nodding, tears running from your eyes towards your temples, you whine Mingyu’s name as his thrusts become urgent, almost desperate, pushing you over the edge. Lips find your throat, a deep groan of pleasure leaves Mingyu’s throat as he slips from you and you feel warm, sticky cum spill from him on to your stomach.
Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you lick your lips while trying to catch your breath, feeling him do the same in the crook of your neck. It takes a few minutes before he finally sits back and his eyes move along the length of your body, finally resting on your stomach, where his cum paints your body.
Shaking his head, Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide his smirk as he pushes his index finger through the cum, spreading it over your skin and enjoying seeing it on you. “That feels gross.” Chuckling under his breath at your complaint, Mingyu lifts his brows, dragging his finger up towards your breast, stopping short and moving his eyes to yours. “But you look so fucking sexy covered in my cum, sweetheart. Almost hate to wash it off of you.”
Lowering your eyes to where his fingers rest on your ribs, you let out a faux annoyed sound that makes Mingyu laugh once again, his lips meeting yours as you smile, speaking between gentle kisses. “Then I guess you’ll just have to fuck me more often, Kim Mingyu…”
With a gentle nip at your bottom lip, Mingyu pulls back to look down at you once more before finally moving to stand at the side of the bed and reaching for his discarded towel. You suck in your stomach at the feeling of his fingers pushing against it, cleaning his cum from your body so delicately as he purses his lips. “Maybe I will.”
Despite pain being what wakes him up first, Mingyu finds himself staring at you as you lay facing him in the low light of the bedroom. It didn’t matter if he felt like shit; if his arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, he still managed to turn on his side and lift his left arm so that he could carefully touch you.
In Mingyu’s opinion, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. You made him jealous of the sun as it slowly creeped along your exposed skin. He couldn’t help but give in to his temptation, gently following the light with his fingers as he walked them along your skin. You made him wish for more; you made him wish for this… Things that seemed so far from what he knew. Life with you seemed like it could be so simple and more importantly, it seemed so warm. Mingyu had never felt so warm.
All of those feelings are ripped away from him by the sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. It wouldn’t be his mom or his dad. It wouldn’t be his sister or an aunt calling to ask if he was having a good day; there were only a few people it could be and as he turned over to pick it up, the searing pain in his arm and blood staining the sheets from where it had leaked through the gauze reminded Mingyu even more that his life wasn’t simple and warm. He was cold and impossible. This with you was an impossible, stupid, childish dream, and Mingyu needed to wake up.
Giving one more lingering look at you lying peacefully in bed, Mingyu grabs his phone from the nightstand, a pair of pants from a chair, and moves into the living room. “Yeah?”
That wasn’t how Minghao expected or wanted Mingyu to answer his call, but it didn’t surprise him. Nothing did anymore. At least he was alive, even if he did sound worse for wear. “So you do know how to pick up the phone. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Sitting down on the couch, Mingyu glances over at his arm, his brows knitted together at not only Minghao’s nagging, but also the feeling of the gauze sticking to his stitches. Pulling at the tape, he sighs and balances the phone on his left shoulder as he unwraps his arm, realizing he had forgotten to call Minghao the night before. “I just got busy—”
“Fuck you. I know exactly what you were doing.” At first, Mingyu wonders if Minghao knows about you and him, but when Minghao continues, it’s even worse. “Lucky for you, the dumb ass cops in that district actually believe it’s a mugging gone wrong. At least you aren’t a complete fuckin’ idiot.”
Wadding the gauze up in his hand, Mingyu leans his head back and lets out a longer sigh. Minghao was worse than a parent when things happened that weren’t ideal. No, killing Eunseok wasn’t ideal, but it had happened and now, in Mingyu’s mind, at least the cops weren’t looking for him. At least they didn’t think it was linked to the lounge. "Well, thanks; it means a lot coming from you. Sorry I inconvenienced you, Hao.”
Minghao had heard of Mingyu’s pity parties and been there for his mental breakdowns, but this one was the worst. Lifting his hand to the bridge of his nose, Minghao shakes his head and sighs. The call suddenly becomes quiet, causing Mingyu to shift on the couch anxiously. As much as he put on a brave face and stood up to Minghao, he still didn’t want him to be that disappointed in him; he didn’t want to cause major problems.
“It—look…I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it. I can’t really fucking fix it. It happened so fucking fast.” Mingyu knew he was rambling, but the self loathing that he always felt was bubbling to the surface. He felt the disappointment even through the phone. “He shot me and I reacted—”
“He shot you? What the fuck? Are you okay? I fuckin’ told you to call me Mingyu!” Hearing the sound of Minghao moving around, grabbing keys, and god knows what else, Mingyu sits up, his voice strained as he tries to calm his friend down. “I’m fine! A bad graze, but... it’s fine. I should have called. You don’t have to come here. I can come to you if you want.”
Stopping in the doorway of his apartment, Minghao narrows his eyes and grips the doorframe tightly as he sighs and takes a step backwards. “You need to get one of Jun’s guys to look at it. You can’t just hold it together with shitty tape like you tried to do with your leg—”
“I’m not! Y/N…” Minghao has to listen even closer to hear Mingyu when he speaks softer, his volume dropping almost to a whisper, as if he’s afraid you might hear him. “Y/N, she stitched it up.”
Minghao isn’t sure if that is better or worse. The fact that a doctor—a real hands to god doctor—had taken care of him but that same doctor was you. You had seen some of the worst parts of what he and Jun tried to keep from you. Mingyu was reckless and stupid. “She’s supposed to be kept away from this shit, Mingyu. Remember that? Or is that something you forgot, like keeping your dick in your pants?”
Leaning forward, Mingyu rests his head in his hand. The words should have made him mad, but after waking up and having his own coming to Jesus moment, he knew that Minghao was right. “I know. I fucked up. She’s too good for this, she’s way too good to be messed up with a piece of shit like me.”
There was truth to Mingyu’s words, but there was also a lot of self loathing mixed in that made Minghao even more pissed off and concerned about him. It wasn’t that he wanted Mingyu with you, but he also didn’t think that he was the biggest piece of shit that you had ever had the misfortune to lock lips with. There were worse choices, even if this choice was a walking headache at the moment.
“She is good. She’s too good for all of us, Jun included, but that doesn’t mean—” Mingyu listens to Minghao sigh loudly, cutting himself off. “Nevermind, lay low. I don’t want you in or around the bar for a while.”
The last thing that Mingyu wanted to do was avoid the bar. He wanted to keep his mind busy and not dwell on what had happened, but even as he starts to argue, Minghao is quick to shut him down. “I’m not asking! Jun left me in charge, so you’ll do as I say. If the cops come snoopin’ around, I don’t need your big dumb ass here.”
Of course, Minghao would pull the ‘I’m in charge’ card now. Mingyu knew he was right, it would be stupid to go to the last place that he and Eunseok were seen together, but it wasn’t like him to hide. Groaning under his breath, Mingyu nods before sitting up and letting out a deep breath. “Fine. Whatever you want.”
Minghao hated benching Mingyu; he needed him at the bar in reality, but he had done this to himself and now he had to clean up the mess. “Glad you understand. I’ll call you later.”
You smile softly, feeling warmth on your hip and walking along your side. In your head, you picture Mingyu’s fingers causing that warm feeling. You can see him lying beside you, his eyes moving along your body as you slowly wake up, but when you open your eyes, you only see a bit of blood on the white sheet where he had been. Your smile is quickly replaced by a look of concern as you sit up and look around the room for him, only to see a pair of pants you had seen yesterday missing from a chair.
Running your hands along your arms, you realize how cold the room suddenly feels without him. One more look at the splotches of blood tells you his gauze needs to be changed out and his stitches checked, but maybe he was taking care of something. Looking for your cell phone, you grab it from the nightstand and furrow your brows at a missed call from Jun. It had been a few days since he had checked in, and you find yourself missing him. The trip had originally been to see him and catch up, but the timing had been off.
Glancing down the hall, you hear Mingyu’s voice low and a bit tense as he talks to someone on the phone. Wanting to give him time and privacy, you turn towards your bedroom and put your phone on the nightstand, hitting Jun’s name and putting it on speaker phone so you can talk to him and get dressed at the same time.
“Sleeping in late on your impromptu vacation?” At first, Jun’s voice makes you smile until you hear the strain in it. There was a layer of anxiety that you could pick up on even in another country or through a phone call. “A little bit... what’s wrong?”
Jun wanted to be in the pool with his fiancée. He wanted to be enjoying the island and getting drunk, but instead this afternoon he was trying not to rip his hair out. “Just wanting to check on my sister. Is that a crime? I miss you.”
While you could believe most of what Jun was telling you, the way his voice sounded kept you on edge as you pursed your lips and pulled a pair of jeans up your legs. “I miss you too. How’s your vacation? How’s Haneul?”
Jun watches the sun move across the water as Haneul moves through it with a smile on her face, unaware of the situation, just as he likes it. Meeting her eyes for a moment, Jun winks at his pretty fiancée before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “She’s perfect. The island is nice. You should have just met us here; there’d be less idiotic temptation.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoff at hearing what you think is the main reason why Jun sounds like he does. Obviously, he had heard something about you and Mingyu. Your scoff doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother, who lifts his brows and lets out his own scoff before starting to scold you. “I told you to be good while I was gone. You insisted on this trip even though you knew I wasn’t going to be there. I knew leaving you with that whore was a mistake.”
Hearing Jun call Mingyu a whore makes you stop what you are doing as you laugh at how ridiculous it sounds. Tugging your shirt down your torso, you shake your head before looking up at the ceiling and starting to tell him as much when Jun speaks first. “I know it sounds funny, Y/N, but I’m not kidding, okay? He goes through women faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s not good for you. He’s dangerous.”
Jun telling you that anyone was dangerous also seemed like a joke, but you had spent the night before putting stitches into Mingyu’s arm, so you knew there was a layer of truth to it. Swallowing hard, you look back down at your hands, shaking your head once more. “Jun—I… come on. He’s so sweet—”
“So he can get in your pants, Y/N! Use that smart brain of yours. Have your fun, but know that he’s not serious and he really is dangerous. I’m not joking about that.” You try to come up with the right words to tell Jun that you don’t care, that you aren’t afraid of Mingyu, and that he can change. But feeling eyes on you from the doorway, you turn to meet Mingyu’s gaze. The look in his eyes is disappointed but resigned and it breaks your heart.
“I gotta go.” Jun tries to argue with you, telling you that he needs to know that you understand, but you are quick to end the call, watching Mingyu shake his head and turn from your room, moving towards his own. “Mingyu! He’s–where are you going? Don’t worry about what Jun says. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Mingyu knew you’d say something like that. You were a good person, a sweet girl, but your brother was right. Grabbing a shirt, Mingyu pulls it over his head and runs his fingers through his hair as he hears you move into the room behind him. “You should listen to him. He’s my boss for a reason. I’m trouble, just like he said.”
Reaching out for him, you get your hand around his waist only to feel his shirt slip from your fingers as Mingyu scoffs and sidesteps out of your grasp. “Y/N, grow up. If last night, seeing that shit didn’t prove it to you, you must be fuckin’ stupid.”
Turning to face you, Mingyu isn’t surprised to see a shocked look on your face at hearing him call you stupid. His words bite at your confidence, but mostly at your heart. You can see the look in Mingyu’s eyes—how he is trying to push you away by hurting you—and it only makes your heart hurt worse.
“Stop it. Why—no, I’m not stupid. I know who you are. Don’t do this, Gyu.” You sound so desperate and almost like you are in love with him that Mingyu’s chest feels like it’s going to implode. He wants to give into you, pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he is for calling you stupid, but that isn’t how to fix this. He had to keep you safe, and safe is as far away from him as possible.
“Do what? Tell a little girl the truth. Wake the fuck up, sweetheart. Use those brains you claim to have. I got fuckin’ shot yesterday. You think that’s a one time thing?” Watching tears coat your eyes, Mingyu takes a step towards you, even as you take one backward. “You think you are special? Like you are the only girl I’ve fucked? Nah, another notch in my belt.”
Mingyu’s words are like a gut punch and as much as you know he is trying to hurt you, he is succeeding. Once he has walked you out into the hallway, Mingyu gives you one last look. The pain of seeing tears running down your cheeks is unbearable, but he keeps himself stone faced as you follow him into the living room, watching him pull on his damaged leather jacket, wincing in pain. “Where are you going? Do you think it’s a good idea to go out?”
Speaking between sniffing back tears, you aren’t even sure Mingyu hears you as he shoves his gun into the holster on his side until he gives you a passing glance. Shrugging, he grabs his keys, shoves them into his pocket and lets out a deep sigh. “Who gives a fuck?”
Sitting at the bar of the Dovetail Casino, Mingyu taps the glass in front of him to signal to the pretty bartender to fill it back up. He was on his fourth drink and had no intention of slowing down. Beside him, Jeon Wonwoo watches as Mingyu’s phone goes off for the umpteenth time. Someone was trying to get into him desperately and clearly Mingyu had no intention of picking it up as he once again reached over to decline the call.
“Don’t wanna talk to Y/N?” Scoffing at hearing your name on the lawyer’s lips, Mingyu rolls his eyes and smiles at the bartender as she fills his glass up with whiskey once more. “You shouldn’t read other people’s phones. Don’t they teach that in lawyer school?”
While Wonwoo didn’t know who you exactly were, it didn’t really matter; you clearly mattered to Mingyu, and the two of you were having a fight of some sort. He had been a lawyer long enough to recognize that, though anyone with eyes could probably tell that Mingyu was getting drunk for a reason. “Girlfriend?”
Shooting Wonwoo a dirty look, Mingyu tips his glass back, ice meeting his lips, slowing down how quickly the alcohol can pour into his mouth, but only by a slight margin. The sound of the glass hitting the wooden bar makes Wonwoo hiss, knowing he was either on the right track or he had hit a nerve.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just some stupid girl with some idea of me that she’s made up in her head. She thinks she’ll get some white picket fence with me.” Gesturing towards himself, Mingyu scoffs and Wonwoo gives his friend a once over sigh, knowing what he is trying to say as Mingyu continues. “She’s an idiot to be so fucking smart and beautiful…”
Wonwoo brings his own glass to his lips, nursing it much slower than Mingyu was. Mingyu was already getting drunk, while Wonwoo was barely filling a buzz. Wonwoo could see what was happening even if Mingyu didn’t want to. Just from the brief description of you that he had gotten, he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. You might not “be his girlfriend,” but that didn’t stop Mingyu from being into you.
“Why is it bothering you so much? This is the girl you’ve been watching.” Watching Mingyu nod and look at his now empty glass, Wonwoo sighs as Mingyu lifts his hand, asking for a fifth drink. “Just have Minghao take over. It’s that easy, right? Then you don’t have to be with her all the fucking time.”
It could be that easy, but hearing Wonwoo say it made Mingyu want to throw up. Maybe it was all the whiskey on an empty stomach, but Mingyu didn’t want anyone else watching over you. He didn’t care if Minghao was like family to you; he had been asked to do this and he wasn’t going to just give up.
“What—no. Just admit I’m a failure. Do I look like a fuckin’ failure to you?” Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Mingyu looks back down at his empty glass, the ice melting, wishing the bartender would be a bit quicker about filling it up. “She leaves next week.” His words are quieter than they had been the entire time the two had been sitting at the bar.
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he hated the idea of you getting on that plane. He hated that you were sitting at home pissed off at him and worse, he had made you sad. Yes, he had done it on purpose, but he had his reasons. If you were mad at him, if you distanced yourself from him, it would be easier to watch you leave him.
Nodding, Wonwoo furrows his brows, seeing the pain on Mingyu’s face as the bartender tells Mingyu he’s reached his limit and she won't give him another for a while. It was for the best, he could tell Mingyu didn’t need anything else to drink; he was staring at the empty glass like it was a life preserver, even though the alcohol that had been in it was only helping him to sink further. Wonwoo understood the feeling better than Mingyu probably realized.
“My advice, whether you want it or not, get your shit together. Don’t lose her because of your pride and because you think you know best.” Furrowing his brows, Mingyu glances over at Wonwoo, trying to figure out how he’d know so much about what he was thinking about, but the look on his friend’s face, the pain written in his eyes make him stop and just listen. “Trust me, I understand something about losing someone who means so much to you. Wishing you could go back and change who you were… Don’t fuck it up like me.”
Mingyu wants to ask what happened, who Wonwoo had lost, but he watches as Wonwoo tips his drink back, draining it before putting it back down on the bar with a sigh. He had never seen Wonwoo look so sad and stuck in the past before and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to again.
Digging the spoon out of the ice cream once again, you bring it to your lips as you sniff back your tears, your eyes not really focusing on what is on the television in front of you. After Mingyu had left, you had resorted to a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream while sitting on your bed and trying to become one with it.
You had been through plenty of breakups in the past, but Mingyu’s words hurt you worse than any other man’s ever had. You knew he had been trying to hurt you and you also knew he was full of shit. He didn’t really mean it, even if he was trying so hard to convince himself that he did. For some reason, he wanted you to hate him and the longer you sat in bed, the ice cream in your lap disappeared. You felt like it was a possibility.
But as much as you wanted to give into that feeling, just hate him, you could still feel how good it felt to be in his arms. To feel his lips and fingers on your skin as he made you feel comfortable and safe. So instead of hate, you just felt depressed. You were beginning to wonder if you should look at available flights to leave early.
Standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, Mingyu watches you pout into your glass of wine before you follow the sip with a bite of ice cream. You were adorable as you paid more attention to what was on your phone, sniffing back your emotions, than you did to whatever you had playing on the television.
He knew he should just make a right into his room and leave you alone, but all Mingyu can hear are Wonwoo’s words echoing in his mind. ‘Don’t fuck it up like me.’ You drove him crazy. No other woman had made Mingyu feel like this. He knows he could keep lying to you, keep making you cry and watch you get on that plane in a week, but just the thought of it makes Mingyu’s stomach churn.
Taking one step after another, Mingyu moves into your bedroom, drawing your eyes up from your phone to him. You can’t help the surprised look on your face as he reaches for the remote, turns the television off and tosses the remote into the chair without a second glance. “Mingyu…” Your voice is soft, confused, and full of hurt. The sound of it breaks Mingyu’s heart and his resolve as he takes the ice cream out of your lap and puts it on the nightstand with your wine before sliding his hand along the side of your face and pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss isn’t rushed and it is so different from every other kiss that you and Mingyu have shared up to that moment. Mingyu’s tongue glides along yours as you moan softly into the deep kiss, your fingers grabbing at his jacket, tears already running down your cheeks as your emotions get the better of you. Leaning back, Mingyu brushes his thumbs over your cheeks, then presses kisses on each one before standing up to his full height and taking his clothes off piece by piece before repeating the process with you.
You feel your head spin once his lips are back on yours and your back is on the mattress. Mingyu’s body pressed against yours. He groaned into your mouth, feeling your hand slide along his hip towards his cock before leaning back to wrap his hand around yours, bringing your fingers to his lips.
“Just let me...” The sentence seems unfinished, but you nod, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide along your forearm as his lips find your jaw and work to your neck, leaving you breathless. He had kissed you before. You had felt his lips almost all over your body, but this was different. He was almost worshiping your body this time and he wasn’t in a rush.
It was as if Mingyu was seeing you—really seeing you for the first time. He was taking the time to touch every mole or scar on your body and then kiss it before meeting your eyes when you sighed out his name. If Mingyu hadn’t been addicted to you before this, now there was no way he could deny it.
“Fuck, you are so beautiful. Sound so pretty for me. Wanna… just—” Mingyu was talking to you—or more so, he was talking at you as he worked his kisses along your leg and towards your inner thigh. When his lips meet your wet, soft folds, you lift your hips off the bed and Mingyu groans quietly, gently pushing you back down. Any other time he would have pinned you to the bed and devoured you but this time his touch was gentle; you were floating from it and the feeling of his tongue circling your clit.
It doesn’t take long before your thighs are closed around Mingyu’s head, his groans muffled as his hands grip your hips, holding you close to him until you fall apart on his tongue. When your legs start to tremble, you let out a sob of Mingyu’s name, your fingers running through his hair as you push your hips into the bed, asking for mercy. Smiling against your now swollen folds, Mingyu presses one more kiss on your pussy before pushing himself up on the bed with his left arm to watch you try to catch your breath, coming down from your orgasm.
“Taste so good, baby. I could do that all damn night.” Shaking your head, you reach for Mingyu, whining as he laughs and moves up in bed between your legs. His lips once again find your neck and you try to continue to come down from your orgasm, but when Mingyu nips at your skin, you moan his name, making him smile. “Love hearing my name on your lips so fuckin’ much. Wanna hear it all the time. Can I?”
At first, you aren’t sure if he’s asking for you to say his name again or something else, but his fingers brushing through your sensitive folds before he does the same with the head of his cock makes you understand. He hadn’t asked any other time; why this time? Did it even matter why? It seemed to matter to your heart as your chest tightened when you nodded and whispered out your pleas for him to get inside of you.
Carefully pushing the head of his cock into you, Mingyu closes his eyes and groans to the feeling of your warmth pulling him in. He feels the urge to just bury himself into you in one hard thrust, but instead he prolongs it. Meeting your eyes, he watches your mouth fall open in a moan as slowly, inch by inch, he pushes into your walls, letting them hug him tight. “Holy shit. That’s my girl. Holding me like you don’t wanna let me go, huh?”
You didn’t. You never wanted him to leave you, both in bed and in your life. You loved the way he was looking at you. You loved the way he was kissing you and the way he was making love to you. Every other time he had fucked you, this was making love. Even if he probably wouldn’t admit it, you knew the difference and you knew that he did too.
Mingyu’s forearms rest under your arms, his hands on either of your shoulders as he presses his forehead to yours. Each one of his thrusts is deep, powerful, but slow, as if he wants hours of you in this bed. Nudging his nose against yours, Mingyu smiles, hearing your choked moans as he pushes one of his knees into the mattress, changing the angle of his thrusts so that his cock perfectly rubs against that spot with each movement. “All I want is one more. Just love making you feel good, angel. Love hearing you sing for me, feeling you all over my cock.”
There was dirty talk and then there was Kim Mingyu’s dirty talk. He could be almost lewd at times, but this was completely different. He had made your skin feel like it was on fire—calling you a whore or a slut, but this—loving everything about you, wanting to hear you sing for him, making you feel good? This was pushing you over the edge, possibly even more than the feeling of his cock brushing against your g-spot over and over again.
Scratching at Mingyu’s sides, you tighten your legs around his hips, feeling the pressure that had been building in your abdomen give way. Your orgasm rips through you and Mingyu can barely move with how tightly your walls close around him. Gasping into a groan, he tries to get a full breath and keep himself from losing control.
Trying to pull from you to keep himself from cumming inside of you, Mingyu meets your eyes, sees the pout on your lips and feels your legs hold him tighter. You didn’t want him to pull out. He never came inside of girls. That was another one of his rules, a way to keep himself from catching feelings or any trouble, but with one more deep thrust, Mingyu breaks that rule.
Groaning your name against your lips, Mingyu is the one who feels like he’s losing his mind with how good it feels to be inside you and to feel your warm, soft walls around him as his cums. He loved seeing his cum on you, but this was special. It’s like you were made for him and made to take everything he gave you.
Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you close your eyes, letting him rest his cheek against your shoulder. Both of you slowly come down from your euphoric highs. A smile pulls at your lips when you feel your lips press against your throat and Mingyu’s hands slide from under you so he can carefully pull from you and look down at you.
“Was—is that okay? What happened?” You could see the concern written in Mingyu’s eyes. Lifting your hand, you brush your thumb over his cheek and feel your chest once again tighten as he rests his face in your palm, waiting for you to answer him. “Of course it was. I wanted it. I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t on birth control and sure, Mingyu.”
Taking a deep breath of relief, Mingyu nods before turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. You watch as he slides from the bed and rubs his lips together, glancing around the room before landing on the door to the bathroom. Smiling, you let your eyes follow him as he moves into the ensuite before you hear him turn on the tap in the shower.
Coming back into the bedroom, Mingyu rubs the side of his neck with his right arm as he offers you his left hand. Though you take his hand, sitting up, ready to go with him, you can’t help the way your eyes migrate from his face to the angry stitches on his right arm. Furrowing your brows as you stand, you mutter his name and carefully touch the hot skin around the wound before meeting Mingyu’s eyes.
“I’ll clean it and wrap it after the shower, okay? You have to take better care of this. It’ll get infected, babe.” Letting go of Mingyu’s hand, you don’t see the way his brows furrow and how his breath gets caught in his throat when you call him babe. His eyes follow you into the bathroom as you open a bag on the counter, digging through different pill bottles until you find the one you want and say his name once again.
“I have some antibiotics. They should help… if I can talk to someone here in Seoul, I can get you an actual script.” Looking around for Mingyu in the bathroom, that’s when you realize he’s still standing in the bedroom looking at you, almost dazed. Lifting your hand out for him is what brings him back to you and gets his feet moving.
Sliding his fingers along yours, Mingyu swallows hard and looks at the pills in your hand when you offer him two, ready to tell him to take them after the shower, only to watch him dry swallow them. Scoffing, you shake your head and sigh, knowing you were falling hard for him, as Mingyu simply smiles at you and guides you towards the shower with him.
A week later, you found yourself settling into a routine with Mingyu. It was a confusing existence, but you were happy even if Jun wasn’t. He had cut his own vacation short to see you before you were planning to head back to China, and finding you and Mingyu playing house didn’t sit well with him. It took a lot of convincing and reminding him that you weren’t a child for your brother to let you “make your own mistakes” and let you see this through.
It wasn’t like you could just look at him or Minghao and give them an easy explanation of what was happening. You weren’t even sure. There were no labels for what you and Mingyu had. You wanted to say that you were with him, but were you?
The sex was mind blowing. Mingyu was the best lover you had ever had in your entire life, but more than that, you would fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up to a kiss from him every morning. That bliss would quickly end if you brought up the question of who the two of you were and where he wanted this to go. Mingyu was a great liar and he was good at changing the subject.
You were just happy that the two of you had been happy. The tension in the penthouse had been low and there had been an air of “ignorance is bliss”—at least there was until the night before your flight.
“Baby, does pasta aglio e olio sound good for dinner?” Mingyu’s voice carries through the penthouse from the kitchen as he purses his lips at what ingredients he has on hand. Hearing your muffled answer from down the hall, he smiles, shaking his head before heading towards you. “What did you say? You good with—”
The words get caught in Mingyu’s throat, seeing your suitcase on your bed and your clothes in piles on the bed as you work to pack for the next day. He knew it was coming, but seeing it firsthand was like a stab to his gut.
Glancing up, a sad but thoughtful look on your face, you look over Mingyu’s expression when he stops mid sentence. You had heard his question, but you were trying to get through a task that felt impossible. Packing meant you were actually leaving and it was breaking your heart, but Mingyu hadn’t asked you to stay.
Staying would take work, but if he really wanted you to... if he asked you to do it, you had decided in your mind that you’d figure out how to do it. That was why you had asked him so many times what he wanted from the relationship, what he wanted from you, but every time he avoided it—that told you he wanted you to go home.
“Dinner sounds good, Gyu. Are you okay?” Mingyu could hear the changes in your voice. You didn’t sound like the happy, carefree girl that he had just made love to the night before. The sound of your voice makes his chest feel tight and reminds him that he promised to drive you to the airport. How was he going to do that? How was he going to stand at that gate and watch you walk away?
Mingyu’s mind quickly puts up defenses, doing what it has always done best—it builds walls. Hurt and pain are on the horizon, so a wall goes up and he’s reminded that this is for the best. He’s bad for you. You have an entire life back in China. You have a clinic and patients who rely on you. He’s selfish and pathetic. He’s dangerous. You stitched him up and watched him shatter. He’s going to get you killed or make you miserable.
Shaking his head, Mingyu quickly follows it by scoffing and putting on a fake smirk. “Uh yeah, yeah. I’m good. Uh…” Gesturing towards your bags, Mingyu reaches up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair, something you’ve realized he does when he’s stressed. “When’s your flight again?” He knew what time the flight was. He had looked at the booking hundreds of times but you were looking at him to say something and this was the only thing he knew to say.
Stepping towards Mingyu, you watch as he takes a step backwards and it makes your heart rise towards your throat. You knew what he was doing. You have already done this. That tension was back and Mingyu was pushing you away again. He was afraid, but so were you. “It’s at 1, but you know that. Mingyu, talk to me.”
Taking a sharp breath when you take a step towards him, Mingyu feels the door frame behind him as he looks away from you and laughs. The laugh is hollow and fake. You know that it’s supposed to be painful and it is. It hits right at your heart and makes you feel almost sick as you watch him turn from you and head into the hall, his words carrying back to you. “Just needed the time, Y/N. Finish packing so we don’t have to fuckin’ rush in the morning.”
There it was. Mingyu was purposely trying to be cold and mean again. You had drunk your weight in wine last time; this time you followed him. He didn’t go back to the kitchen; instead, Mingyu turned into his bedroom. Staring at his back, you try to keep the tears at bay, but taking a deep breath, you quickly lose that fight when the first words leave your mouth, anger and sadness coming out in waves.
“No! You don’t get to do this again, Mingyu! Why are you closing me out? Just…” Mingyu closes his eyes, hearing the sobs between your words. “Please? Why can’t you ask me to stay? Huh?”
Tears threaten Mingyu’s eyes at that. He wanted to so badly but that wasn’t fair to you. His brain was repeating it all on loop for him.
You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable…
The words in his mind are so loud that even as you move close to him and push at his back, inching him forward, Mingyu stands still. Your choked sobs are what bring him somewhat back to the present, only for his heart to shatter one more time. “Mingyu! Why can’t you ask me if I love you? Tell me that you love me!”
It takes everything in Mingyu not to turn around, wrap you in his arms and apologize. He isn’t even sure if he wants to apologize for not doing what you’ve asked or for making you feel the way you do. He just doesn’t want you to feel like this anymore, but if you are in this much pain, maybe he can make you hate him. “I don’t love anyone, Y/N.”
Hearing Mingyu speak, you let out one more painful sob and punched at Mingyu’s back, your words weak. “I hate you so much. God, I—why did you make me love you?” Turning to face you and hearing what he wanted, Mingyu closes his fists tightly so he doesn’t reach out to grab on to you. The look on your face shatters him further, but he tries to cover it, even if his eyes give it away. You see the despair written in them, though his mouth stays shut firmly, his jaw is set tightly.
Smacking your hands at his chest weakly, you try to hold on to your anger as you meet Mingyu’s eyes. Shaking your head, you finally lift your hand and start to bring your palm across his cheek when Mingyu finally moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently to finally stop you. “Why can’t you just let me go? Go be happy... Be safe.”
You see the tears in Mingyu’s eyes as he speaks, his voice cracking. Rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inner side of your wrist, Mingyu watches you start to speak, but he shakes his head and sighs. You can hear how tired and desperate he is in his voice as he finally begs you, but not in the way you want. “Just... let me be alone? Let me lie and be miserable on my own. I can’t fuck up your life.”
Shaking your head as you look up at Mingyu, you see him searching your eyes for understanding. You pull your hand free from his and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so your lips can brush over his. Hissing into the light kiss, Mingyu whines your name while trying to keep his hands to himself as he tastes your tears on your lips.
“I can’t let you do that, Mingyu. I love you.” Trying to make him understand, you kiss at the corner of Mingyu’s lips and once again on the fullness of his bottom lip as you whine into your words, fresh tears on your cheeks. “Please, I love you so much. Stop lying and tell me that you love me, baby. Ask me to stay.”
Groaning in mental pain and at how tight his chest feels from hearing your words, Mingyu finally breaks. Hands grip at your waist before he lifts you and walks the few steps to the bed, laying you on your back so he can rest over you. The kiss before had been hesitant and guarded, but now Mingyu was almost bruising your lips as if he were willing you to hear how he was feeling through his passion.
You lift your hand and run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair before walking them along his face to his cheek, feeling his skin damp under your touch. Whispering between kisses, you finally feel a sense of security in being back in Mingyu’s arms as he clings to you as if he’s never going to let you go. “I love you, Mingyu.”
Mingyu’s sigh against your lips almost sounds like a half sob and a laugh. Resting his forehead against yours, he groans softly and keeps his eyes closed, taking in the moment before finally leaning back to look down at you as your fingers wipe away the tears from his cheek. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I hate myself for how much I love you.”
Watching you shake your head, Mingyu can see you are going to argue, but he furrows his brows and kisses your lips gently before continuing. “I’m so fucking scared that I’ll lose you. I’m afraid that ‘cause I love you, that’s gonna get you hurt or worse, baby. I—I’d fuckin’ lose it.”
There had been brief moments of honesty in your short relationship with Mingyu, but this was complete honesty and clarity. It made you think back to what had happened a week ago with the man who had lost his life and you wondered what had been said or done to make Mingyu do what he did… Your mind goes back to Mingyu’s bookshelf and when you had asked him, “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?”
Kim Mingyu was a complicated man, but you were beginning to understand him.
“Gyu, baby… I’ll be okay. You can’t live your life thinking that disaster is waiting for you around every corner. Just... maybe live it with me? Be happy with me?”
Taking a deep breath, Mingyu lets the gravity of your words settle on him before he brushes his lips over yours and then presses another kiss on your jaw before nodding. He had only committed to a few things in his life and none of them had ever been this terrifying, but you were worth it.
Running your fingers through the back of Mingyu’s hair at the nape of his neck, you smile, feeling him nod in agreement. Taking a deep breath, you rest your head back against the bed and let out the breath, finally meeting Mingyu’s eyes once again as his fingers brush along the side of your neck. Smiling, Mingyu’s eyes move along your face before he finally settles back on your eyes.
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#mingyu smut#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#mingyu x reader#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#mingyu angst#mingyu fluff#mingyu toxic#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen toxic#svt angst#svt fluff#svt toxic
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Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think
1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.
Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.
2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?
What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?
3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.
Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.
I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.
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y'all if any of you guys wants to expand upon or use as inspiration anything I've written do so. Also if you guys want me to write more abt something tell me.
Anyways with that out of the way.
Ive been thinking about collage Danny AU but instead of going to Gotham he goes to central city (its in Ohio, and The flash is based there). So im thinking that the population over there has a massive percentile of meta humans compared to other cities, because of the particle accelerator incident plus the multiple flash points. All this to say is that the people in Central City are used to civilians having enhanced strength, uncommon dietary restrictions, random outburst of power act.
So Danny just turned 18 comes in to get his degree in biochemical engineering and astronomy, after finishing school with extra credits. He gets a dorm with 2 other people a meta with speeding problems and a normal dude named Sam.
In Dannys perspective he is a very chill roommate, making sure he washes after himself when using the kitchen. Regularly taking out the trash ect..
In his roomates perspective, they think Danny is a paranoid meta who recently escaped a dysfunctional household where he was discriminated for being a meta.
why they have this assumption simple. Danny is clearly malnourished and refuses to actually make a diet he needs. Only eating small servings of food, and trying to save as much as possible for later. He gets paranoid when using moe strength than a human should posses, almost as if he's scared of getting found out. And third of all Danny glows in the dark, quite literally, its not an annoying or absurd amount. Danny glows the same way glow in the dark stars do.
So yeah Dannys roommates know he is a meta but they don't know how they should breach the subject as its clear that Danny is very paranoid of getting found out.
On the other hand Barry Allen is getting worried about his grandsons(bart) roomate, as its very concerning the demeanor he is displaying. Barry intends to investigate the situation more to make sure this isn't a 'broken phone' type of misunderstanding. And if it isn't he is pulling a Bruce.
Meanwhile Danny's on his dormitory roof enjoying the stars, sure there's light pollution but his enhanced vision allows him to see them as if were a clear sky. Not knowing how his life is going to change in the coming weeks.
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ANOTHER UNDEAD FENTON
Inspiration came from this post by @stars-obsession-pit !
Word count: 1479
Masterpost of Archive Down Fics here.
(I wrote three dp x dc fics based off of prompts I've seen in the last day for reading while the site is getting maintenance. )
There was a high, shrill scream in the Fenton lab.
Maddie bolted for the stairs, abandoning her coffee without a thought. She flung herself down to see Jack bent over a body in front of the portal.
“Is this person a threat?” Maddie prepared to defend her husband, but the body didn't move.
Jack looked up at her. “No, I was just surprised! I think he's hurt, Mads.”
Her bleeding heart husband. She crossed the room and rolled their intruder over to see it was a kid, maybe Danny's age. In his sleep, he had a sweet, soft face. His face and throat were covered in faint scars.
Well. That was one of hers, now. No getting around it. That was a teenage boy on her floor who has obviously been the victim of violence.
“Well, shit,” Maddie said companionably. She blew out air between her teeth. “Dear, would you put clean sheets on in Jazz's room?”
They were running out of space, between the clones and the past evil alternate future children.
Jack saluted her, shouted an affirmation , and bounded away.
Maddie took a moment to wonder if her children would be an infinitely expanding collection and if so, if it would be better to move into Vlad's castle than to build the home addition they had planned for.
She gathered the teenager up in her arms despite him being her size, and laid him out on an exam table. She started checking his vitals.
A hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Maddie said. She redirected her hand to smooth hair behind his ear. He blearily followed the movement, just as obviously intelligent as he was obviously compromised. She didn't know if it was a concussion or drugs or what, but this boy was not well. “It's Friday June 29th, and you're in Amity Park, Illinois. I'm Madeleine Fenton and you're at my house because you fell through a portal. Is there someone I should call for you?”
He stared at her. She could see the moment he decided not to speak to her.
That situation didn't change much all day. The kid walked himself up to bed and peered around at Jazz's old posters. He seemed to want to be alone, but Maddie caught him watching Dani and Dan playing catch in the yard. She made eye contact with him over her book and then looked back at her shrieking kids. Dan was doing flips on the trampoline and launching his sister in the air, catching and tossing her back up in the nick of time between flips.
Their new boy closed his curtains.
“I was thinking about Dante,” Jack said, bringing out a pitcher of iced tea. “Or, how about Jasper! Eh? Eh? You know, like Jazz-per?” Jack belly laughed.
“He probably has his own name,” Maddie said calmly. She'd estimated him at 16 or so, anyway. But whatever. If he wasn't going to give them a name, they did eventually need something to call him. And they needed to sort out accommodation fast, before Jazz got back from her college tour trip.
“Let's go with Jasper until he gives us his real name.” There were enough Ds in her home, honestly.
She lured Jasper out of his room for lunch. He sat at the kitchen table and watched them all warily. He only ate what they ate.
Danny arrived mid-meal. “Mom! Dad!” There was a whumpf as he probably threw himself onto the sofa. “We wanna go to Elmerton, that ok?”
“You should take your brother with you,” Maddie called back. “He needs clothes.”
“What?” Danny clearly pried himself up and came into the kitchen. Maddie silently offered to make him a plate. “No, I ate at Tuck's. Dan, what'd you do to your clothes?”
“Nothing, you pathetic worm,” said Dan, who really was a sensitive boy. “I am not the topic of discussion, you blithering fool.” He jerked a finger at Jasper. “New one.”
Danny stared.
Jasper looked uncomfortable. He gave a sort of hello nod.
“He's, uh, he's not-”
“Not a clone or alternate future version of you, nope,” Maddie agreed. “Though he did come out of the portal. We wondered if he might be a ghost, but it didn't seem necessary to ask.”
Jasper full body flinched at the word “ghost”, but he looked confused.
Danny squinted at his new bother who, it must be said, did look a bit like a Fenton already. “Not a ghost,” he said after a long pause. “But a little undead. Not sure what kind. But yeah, you're walking dead, buddy.” He clapped Jasper on the shoulder.
“You'll fit right in!” Jack cheered. “Dan is half dead! So is Danno! And so is Dani here! And-”
“Thank you, Jack,” Maddie cut him off. “It might be a sensitive subject, don't you think?”
“Nah,” said Danny, stealing food out of the pan despite saying he wasn't hungry. “We aren't that sensitive. Like-” he looked at Jasper and explained: “I got electrocuted to death in the lab two years ago. Dan is from an alternate future where everyone he loved died, so then he killed everyone else on earth. And Dani is a science experiment baby.”
“It's true,” Dani said solemnly. “I'm a work of science.”
“You make me sound so uncool,” Dan complained, stabbing at his spaghetti.
Jasper laughed for the first time. He himself seemed surprised by the sound. It was hoarse but there was promise there.
When the boys were off at the mall in Elmerton with Sam and Tucker, Maddie called up Vlad.
“You want to come here?”
“I’ve got more kids than I have rooms in my house,” she said wryly. “So if the offer is still open…”
“Yes, of course it is,” he assured her. “But- most of the little ones are still in the Ghost Zone, correct?”
“They're not big enough to leave yet,” Maddie agreed. “Which is why I need to be near a portal.” The ghostlings were staying with the LunchLady and Box Ghost, but they needed to be able to be in touch. “But no, I've got another one.”
Glass shattered in the background. “Another- what happened to Daniel this time?”
Maddie laughed at how flustered her old college friend got. “Nothing to do with Danny, actually, this one fell out of the portal. He's some level of partly dead, but we don't think he's a ghost at all.”
Left unsaid was that they needed to do a lot of research to figure out what other possibilities there were. If they could get into contact with Danny's GP, he might be able to get them on the right track.
“Well.” Vlad took a moment to rally. “When will the family be arriving?”
Two months later, all the kids were pretty settled in.
Jasper had never shared a name, but he was happy to let them call him Jay. He was a phenomenal big brother to Dani. He wrestled with Dan. He bullied Danny into doing his homework. It had been something of an administrative nightmare to get Jaspen enrolled in school, but Vlad had pulled off whatever magic trick he'd done for Dani (applied a lot of money to the problem, Maddie supposed) and Jay had settled in very well.
“Your debut in society,” Maddie hummed, making a point of straightening Jay’s tie. He was growing already, she was sure of it! He was going to wind up as tall as Jack.
“I've been to parties before, Mom,” Jay drawled, and then flushed a dark red that meant he didn't want to be asked questions. Maddie tweaked his nose instead of answering.
“But this is the first one where Vlad's introducing you to his business friends!” She said, already dressed up for a fun night. Vlad had flown them all in on his private jet for the day.
“Queen is a family man as well,” Vlad had said the night before, aiming for calculating and coming off soft. “It will put him off his guard or perhaps make him sick with envy that I have brought a higher quality child than he could ever manage to produce.”
They arrived together, Maddie on Jack's arm, keeping her flock of kids within eyesight as Vlad led the pack. She had a perfect view of Oliver Queen seeing them arrive, the smile dropping off his face, and him choking on his drink. He did look very silly, Maddie had to admit.
“Inept,” Vlad hissed, very pleased. “The fool can't even drink. His company will be mine-” he looked at Danny for some reason. Vlad faltered at whatever be saw. “....Through legitimate business practices, such as buying a majority of stocks,” Vlad weakly finished.
Maddie slapped him on the back. “Go get him, tiger.”
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Arkham Prince - Masterlist of Posts
I've linked the major asks below with a preview (edited for length) below, grouped by subject/theme and rough chronological order of how I received them. Additional shorter asks/clarifying questions, as well as shorter bits of commentary are at the very bottom.
The very first post:
I have been thinking about the idea of Bruce going insane without being Batman, about Batman being his coping mechanism, and that reblog that was like "he would definitely have ended up in Arkham if he didnt make Batman." Now I'm thinking of an AU where that is exactly the case, and maybe Clark expands his interest towards Gotham a bit, as much as he doesnt like heroing there, because it is the neighbor city of Metropolis. It's like his backyard. And maybe he wants to understand the problem of Gotham at the root, so he goes as Clark Kent, reporter, to interview the patients at Arkham, and there meets Bruce Wayne. Maybe falls in love. Maybe its angsty as fuck because this Bruce is 10 times less adjusted than the Bruce we're used to, but of course, equally as brilliant. (Maybe he could escape any time he wanted but thinks he would murder people if so. Maybe he doesnt trust his anger.)
Expanding Asks:
the idea of arkham patient bruce wayne has burrowed into the depths of my mind. this is SUCH a fascinating thought and changes so many things…how does the justice league fare without batman? how does alfred? i’d assume alfred is given bruce’s guardianship when he’s institutionalized, and i could even see him taking in the robins – finding and helping these children who remind him so much of his own boy, trying not to fail them as he failed bruce. how bruce himself does in arkham is so interesting to consider…is he kept on the same level of security as the real supervillains? is he moved there after Events?
Clark, realizing the League has a problem, a trap from someone like Lex they don't know how to unknot, something which requires finesse and strategy which is a little beyond them... taking that stroll (flight) down to Gotham, feeling insane himself for seeking advise here of all places... but the Arkham Prince delivers. Clark explains the situation, answers questions that he had no idea related to the issue, and Bruce hands him the solution in the span of 10 minutes, while the League had been brainstorming and going in circles over this for days...
Clark Kent and the Arkham Prince Finding Common Ground:
clark’s first attempt to interview the prince of arkham go about as well as you might expect, given that he’s a reporter with sunshine all but seeping out of his pores. the first time bruce doesn’t even talk to him, too furious at the gall of this metropolitan newshound to interrogate him for the sake of some gruesome, sensationalist op-ed obviously about the tragedy of the family wayne and the irredeemable mire of gotham to do anything more than death-glare at him for the entire length of the meeting. but clark, unsatisfyingly, doesn’t give up after that. if bruce doesn’t talk to him, he sure talks to bruce, and with each subsequent interview the questions…change. no longer trying to establish facts about bruce’s life or his crimes, not asking about his experience in arkham, not even going for the low-hanging fruit of why’d you train for years to kill those people, but seemingly random and unrelated things. he wants bruce’s opinions on emissions policies (need to be stricter and more tightly enforced, especially in gotham, jesus, there’s a reason lung cancer and asthma rates are through the roof) and lex luthor’s keynote speeches (unprintable, wiped from clark’s tape recorder in case luthor somehow finds out) and whether or not clark should buy a new suit (why bother, it won’t be any less tragic than every other polyester abomination he cruelly forces bruce to look at every time he stops by). clark slowly and stubbornly makes himself as much a part of bruce’s routine as visits with alfred and lucius and the doctors, and all the while superman is playing a high-stakes game of mental chess with the sinking suspicion that bruce wayne has already won in more ways than one bruce figures out kent is superman about three hours after the first time big blue gets namedropped during an interview. he commences with a plan that is part honeypot, part campaign of psychological warfare, and part genuine bid to get this midwestern alien who holds the safety of his city in his hands to try and give a damn like a proper gothamite would, like no one but bruce ever seems to.
Clark, whose one of his grestest fears is being constrained, treated as a threat, dissected, studied, as the alien specimen he is. He has to pretend. He had to be so careful. Every day or he won't have a life to live.
Clark asking the Arkham Prince to Consult for the JL:
i would kill to have clark-as-supes get some kind of special dispensation to bring arkham prince bruce to the jl hideout (the watchtower doesn’t to be without batman’s engineering/logistics knowhow and WE funding, at least not until bruce is more formally considered a consultant) for help on one of lex’s more convoluted and immediate threats. it’s just not possible for bruce to solve the problem in isolation without the league’s resources, so instead of bringing league missions to bruce superman has to bring bruce to the league mission. i started imagining the team’s reaction to their unwitting reliance on criminally insane mass murderer bruce wayne and then i remembered oliver exists and now i feel only sadness thinking about that particular reunion
Just wondering how regular JL universe would react to meeting this au, meeting Batman and seeing Bruce Wayne's potential Would they realize that their Bruce is limited by what he can do inside Arkham, but that this Batman is also limited by his own rules and codes. Would Ollie be crushed at what his former friend could have been, thinking maybe if he had stepped up and been a "better friend" Bruce wouldn't be in Arkham, he could of been working beside him instead. Can imagine Batman saying "I don't kill" and Bruce just smiling in what should have been the brucie smile and replying "but I do"
The crossover is so funny in regards to Supes. Like here's Arkham Prince AU Clark, terribly in love with a version of Bruce who is so unavailable to him on so many levels, aching with it every time he dares think about it, staring at Regular Universe Clark in complete and utter disbelief. (expansion of "regular JL universe" ask above)
Your take on Prince of Arkham's level of influence on JL members, at the top being of course Clark. And also: first time he is taken into the JL base, does he hack into their systems?
OMG arkham bruce and clark have gotten closer and maybe clark makes bruce promise not to kill again after bruce gets out of arkham so he can join the jl but then someone is killed and theres evidence it was bruce but bruce swears it wasnt him ( bc it wasn’t him ) but theres so much evidence that even clark is starting to doubt bruces innocence and the jl has to kick him out and hes taken back to Arkham or for interrogation and then ANGST BRUCE BEING TORTURED FOR CONFESSION BUT HE STILL SWEARS HE DIDNT DO IT until its proven that he didnt do it
@bat-chik's Harvey Dent Visits Bruce in Arkham
"We can't even claim self defense," Harvey continued. "You-" "He has cancer." Harvey blinked at the non-sequitur, "What?" Finally, the orphaned Wayne turned and faced him, face blank, unconcerned about how much more this action would add to his sentencing. Unconcerned except for the steel eyes seething yet holding back so much hurt. Harvey remembered once again, with a small pang, why he had gotten a crush on Bruce in their college days. "Nygma. He has cancer. The only way to get medical care in Arkham is by ending up in the hospital wing." Bruce moved with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and sat in the bolted chair across from his lawyer, and life long friend.
Where are the Batkids in This?
pls consider. a dick greyson who gets tossed in arkham after tracking down and torturing then killing killing his parent's murderer. tiny and lost now that what was driving him is done. a bruce wayne who hasnt been in That long yet, not long enough for people to see him as a threat rather than just an oddity, who takes one look at that angry little kid and says "oh. oh that ones mine" and spends as much time with the kid as he can. and bruce Loves gotham, thats his whole drive. but to dick, gotham is nothing but the place his world crumbled. and i think this bruce never sat with his feelings of grief either. i think he always needed a cause. and i think he saw dick having lost his cause and tries to help him find another (id like to put forth escaping as a hobby, managing to get into Any part of arkham that he pleases especially with his athleticism and small size)
It would be funny if in the Arkham Prince AU, since all the kids are in there for being um - gremlins and down with murder - that Jason in this was the pacifist?
Re: Jason being the pacifist: "I will follow you forever because you killed him." Endlessly devoted Jason my beloved. If you give him one (1) positive attention he will light himself on fire to keep you warm. I love him so much. Self destructive king.
Tim committing a crime just to end up in Arkham and study the famed insane Bruce Wayne is actually startlingly in character for him...
Clarifying Asks:
when do you see him as getting committed? was he already batman? did he already have any of his kids? if not, what *happened* to those kids who never had bruce to fight for them?
Okay, but since Bruce is the Prince of Arkham, whats stopping his kids from being in there with him?
Oh I am sooooooooo curious about what Clark thinks about Arkham Bruce having a gaggle of prison murder children.…you ever think he’s asked Dick to give Clark flowers during one of his escapes????? Or is that too corny for them.
I've seen some Arkham Prince asks and responses referring to Bruce still being rich, but would he still be?
Additional Thoughts:
i am torn between the other Inmates Hating bruce (hes the picture of those who hurt them. a rich man who is just like them but gets Way less pain for it) and adoring him
Picture this, Alfred goes to see Haly's, sees another black haired blue eyed child losing his parents at just about the same age. Another feral child with murder in his eyes.
it’s extremely important to me to consider arkham prince bruce with longer, shaggy hair and a perpetual three-day beard
The smut in the Arkham Prince AU would be INSANE.
This Arkham Prince AU has folks in a choke hold but ya'll forget one thing. The Joker and Harley Quinn.
god i am just exploding thinking about bruce and sex in the arkham prince au. there is absolutely no way he’s not accustomed to exchanging sex for favors, information, anything he wants or needs. (additional thoughts on how Clark fits into this/Superbat)
Okay hi so my main source of Arkham knowledge is the Penguin show so I’m gonna ramble a bit about factions and divides and stuff. (Sofia Falcone expansion)
continuing my thoughts on Sofia Falcone coming off your great opinions to my last ask.
There is a parallel thread between Bruce and Sofia
#arkham prince#arkham prince au#batman#bruce wayne#dc#asks#anon#batfamily#clark kent#superman#superbat#jl#justice league#fic ideas#fic outline
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♛Within Reach♛
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bb8b35173a7d488fb40640cbb0d6d12b/fbdb387c92eb19b7-c8/s540x810/ec35ac7d5dd3cdd3168c7ed53363c4dcc6bb890a.jpg)
Expanding on the "Within Reach" Memoria, with smut at the end >:) (This is written from a first person point of view, with an AFAB and femme main character.)
Word Count: 6.5k
MINORS DNI! The following writing contains the following: smut, public sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, Evol used during sex, mirror sex, half plot/half smut, jealousy on Sylus' end, mutual pining, he is possessive (in the hot way, ofc), kinda rough sex.
My fingers run across the fabric of the dress, the silk material sliding beneath my fingertips gracefully. “This is from our spring collection. I don’t know if you saw, but a few celebrities wore dresses from that collection to the Linkon Gala when it first came out,” the saleswoman says, her smile a bit too wide not to be fake.
I nod, reveling in the wine-red color of the fabric. My hands skim along the sides until they reach a price tag hanging from the collar. When I notice the price, a grimace spreads across my face. I hang the dress back up on the wall, a sigh leaving my frowning lips. The saleswoman notices this, tutting lightly under her breath.
“On second thought, why don’t you just browse over here in the clearance section while I finish stocking over here,” she says, her wide grin not leaving her face. Ouch. I just nod in response as she prances away, my eyes skimming the racks in the clearance section. Even these are a bit too expensive…
The pressure is on for this shopping trip. I have to make sure I look good for Romero’s party, especially considering that Sylus is going to be accompanying me. I didn’t technically invite him, but he took the initiative and invited himself. Honestly, I’m kind of glad he did. I can be a bit bad at that stuff sometimes.
As if thinking about Sylus had summoned him, I hear a crow’s caw come from my pocket. I take it out to find that Sylus is calling me, his face now illuminating my screen. Asshole must have changed my ringtone. I press the answer button, my mood brightening involuntarily as I place the phone against my ear.
“Did you change my ringtone?” I ask, a smile flitting across my face. I hear a dark chuckle from the other end, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter rampantly. I have got to get this crush under control.
“I thought this one was so much more interesting. Now you’ll think of me no matter who calls,” he drawls, and I can hear the grin in his voice. God damn it, he’s not even here and I’m blushing. “Listen, I’m at the boutique by your work, on the top floor.”
I feel like my heart has stopped. “Wait, you’re here too? Did you do that on purpose?” I ask, a slight panic lining my voice. Sylus seems to pick up on this, another chuckle emanating from my phone’s speaker. “You totally did this on purpose,” I whine.
“See you in ten minutes, sweetie,” he insists, before hanging up and leaving me with a shiver down my spine. That asshole.
✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛
The elevator finally slows to a stop, the door opening with a ding to reveal the top floor. I enter a waiting room of sorts, with a white and impeccably shiny tiled floor and several plush couches lining the walls. The room is empty save for two men, who are lounging on the sofas like they own the place.
“Luke, Kieran! Those couches are white! Get your feet off of them before you cover them in soot,” I nag, waving my hands in an annoying motion to get them to sit up properly. “The poor cleaners… Who knows where you two have been.”
“Oh, look. Mom’s here,” Luke jokes, and I turn to him with a fake frown on my face. He puts up his hands defensively, finally sitting up normally in his chair. Despite the mask, I can tell that a grin is spread across his face.
“I’m only a year older than you, asshole,” I mutter, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I flip him off, which only coaxes a giggle out of Luke. I shake my head at him, trying to fight the smile threatening to ruin my composure.
“If you keep it up, Luke, then I’m gonna take over as mom's favorite,” Kieran jokes back. I turn to him, reaching a hand down and rubbing it against his hair in an affectionate manner.
“You sure are buddy,” I say, leaning into the whole “mom” thing with a sigh. These two are idiots, but they’re so sweet that I can’t help but love them.
“Careful, you two. Sylus might rip you a new one if he sees you guys near each other,” Luke teases, and my hand immediately leaves Kieran’s hair. Besides Jenna, who has been on the receiving end of my ranting many times, these two are the only ones to know about how I feel towards Sylus. I didn’t actually tell them, but they have made it very apparent that they have figured it out.
“That’s it. Neither of you are my favorite anymore. Mephisto is in 1st place,” I mutter, moving towards the door at the end of the hall.
“Nice job, Luke. Now we’re losing to a fucking crow,” Kieran whines. Luke just throws a joking glare at him, resuming his lounging on the couch as he browses one of the many magazines on the table in front of him.
I just chuckle lightly beneath my breath before opening the door in front of me and closing it behind me with a click. The room I enter is quite large, with several changing rooms lining the walls. There is a table covered in different fabrics, several of them glittering under the fluorescent light above me. My eyes finally land on Sylus, who is standing in front of a large, floor-length mirror in the center of the room.
“Long time, no see,” he announces, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. He smiles, and my heart begins its palpitations again.
“It really hasn’t been that long,” I mutter, slowly walking closer to him as I take the room in.
“And yet why does it feel like an eternity? Does time fly when you’re around?” he asks, turning to face me finally. Shit. He has to know what he’s doing. A blush creeps onto my cheeks, and there is no way Sylus hasn’t noticed.
I don’t know what to say, simply standing there and staring at him like a statue. He doesn’t break eye contact, instead holding up two ties. He holds a solid red tie in one hand, the other clutching a light blue striped tie. “Which one?” he asks, holding each up to his neck in turn.
I walk up to him, barely thinking before wrapping the red one around his neck. My fingers work slowly, tying it in an intricate knot and pulling it tight around his neck. His gaze never leaves my face, his eyes burning holes in my skin. I can’t bring myself to look at him, knowing that one glance at him will surely bring me to a puddle beneath his feet.
I fiddle with the silk material of the tie, finally working up the courage to meet his gaze. “The red. It matches your eyes,” I mutter, before stepping back and distracting myself with the table of assorted fabrics. He chuckles, following me closely and examining some of the fabrics himself.
“I’ll have to pick a suit to match the tie, then. Wouldn’t want me to take you to that party with a mismatched outfit, now would we?” he asks, his fingers finding a black fabric and rubbing his thumb over it lightly.
“This is for Romero’s party?” I ask, stunned at the idea that he is buying an entirely new outfit just for me. No, not just for me. For the party. Don’t be delusional. He nods, taking the fabric and setting it aside.
“I wouldn’t want you to attend the party with me when I’m not looking my best. Not that I don’t always look my best, I just don’t want to take any chances,” he teases, setting the fabric on an empty table beside him. He takes off the tie, resting it neatly next to the fabric.
“Where’s all the staff? I figured you would have someone helping you pick things out,” I ask, my eyes scanning the empty boutique for any other signs of life.
“I sent everyone away. I don’t like to be bothered, and they do what I say since I’m a VIP. They should be sending in a tailor to take my measurements, though,” he boasts, never afraid to flex his wealth in front of me. He’s such an asshole. I want him so bad.
“Sylus, how did you know I would be here?” I ask, picking up a nearby object to fiddle with. If I don’t do something with my hands, the nervousness will show on my face. And I cannot have him knowing how nervous he makes me.
“I have Mephisto watch the entrance of every building I’m in, in case of an ambush. He spotted you when you walked in and came squawking to me immediately, the loyal bird,” he smiles, running a hand through his silvery hair. So, I have Mephisto to blame for this.
“I asked for the tailor 30 minutes ago, and he’s still a no-show. What kind of store treats its VIP guests this way?” he huffs, clearly growing impatient.
“How dare they? Don’t they know who you are?” I tease, finding any excuse I can to make fun of the spoiled brat in front of me. He gives me a dark look, making me stop in my tracks. My fidgeting stops, and he looks down at the item in my hands.
“Oh, perfect. Glad to see we have a volunteer to tailor me today,” he grins, and I look down to see that the item I was fiddling with was, in fact, measuring tape. Shit, how am I this stupid?
“But I don’t know how to tailor-” I begin, but he interrupts me by grabbing the tape from my hands and wrapping it around his bicep.
“You just measure the different sizes of my body, see? Anyone can do it,” he explains, taking the tape off of his bicep and showing me the measurement. I try to stay calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, I am screaming. “See, I’ve already got one measurement done for you,” he says, a smirk playing across his lips.
“How generous,” I mutter, snatching the measuring tape from his hands. I sigh, looking from the tape to his sturdy form in front of me. I can do this.
“C’mon. It’ll save time,” Sylus insists, and I see a small glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“Fine. If you insist, your outfit will be made according to the measurements I take. And no matter how it turns out, you have to wear it to the party. Deal?” I ask, hoping that this will scare him off. If I have to get up close and measure him, I might melt.
He chuckles, stretching out a hand to shake mine. “Deal,” he says, wrapping the hand around mine and giving it a gentle shake. He rifles through a drawer in the table next to him, producing a pen and paper from inside. “You can write the measurements in here. You’ll need my waist and chest for the shirt, and I have already done the arms for you. Then, for pants, you need my inseam, the outside length, and the thigh. Oh, and my ass,” he adds with a wink, only strengthening the redness in my face.
“God, you’re so lucky I’m such a good…” I freeze, struggling to find the word. “Friend,” I finish, trying to pull myself together. A flicker of something flits across his face, but I can’t tell exactly what. He hands me the pen and paper, leading me over to the mirror.
“Let’s start with the chest, then,” he offers, pulling his shirt up to reveal his sculpted abdomen. He doesn’t take his shirt all the way off, instead letting it rest just above his pecs.
I can't help it- I start to stare. It takes all of my strength not to rub my hands along his torso, the defined abs rippling along his stomach calling to me like a siren song. This isn't the first time I've seen him shirtless, but it will be the first time I've ever gotten this close.
"Like what you see?" He asks, and my attention snaps back up to him. Shit, how long was I staring? I clear my throat, walking closer to him and resting the pen and paper on a nearby chair.
"Just... trying to decide where to start," I mumble, trying my hardest to brush past my obviousness. He chuckles but doesn't say anything else. There's no way that worked.
With my hands now free of everything but the measuring tape, I begin assessing his body for real this time. "I think I'll start at the chest," I tell him. That way, you can put your shirt down faster. And I can stop feeling like I'm going to explode.
"Whenever you're ready," he practically purrs, looking down at me expectedly. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, inching closer to him as I hold up the measuring tape. I try my best not to touch him, my hands struggling to reach around his torso.
"Don't be nervous. The closer you are, the more accurate," he tells me, placing a hand on the small of my back and pushing me closer to him. Calm down. The quicker you do this, the sooner it's over.
But what if I don't want it to be over?
I exhale, finally working up the courage to get closer to him. My hands wrap around his torso, his warm skin burning against my bare arms. I thread the tape around his back, coming forward to meet me in the front.
My fingers graze his skin lightly, and I hear him inhale sharply. I panic, looking up at him for the first time since I started measuring him. There is a look in his eyes that I have never seen from him before, and I'm unable to place exactly what emotion it is.
"Sorry," I mumble, worried I've upset him. I take the tape off and go to write the measurement down in the notebook.
"No, it's just... your hands are so cold," he mutters, his hands brushing where mine had just touched him. A smile graces his face, which makes me pause. Is he... enjoying this?
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. He's just messing with me. I move back over to where he is standing, my hands a bit more steady as I go to measure his waist. If he wants to mess with me, then I'll mess with him back.
I don't shy away from touching him now, my hands grazing along the sides of his hips as I thread the tape around his back once again. I watch as goosebumps rise on his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up ever so slightly.
I take the measurement, turning away to write it down in my book once again. I don't look at him, afraid that his gaze will take away the newfound confidence I've gained. Now, to move lower.
I get down on my knees in front of him, gulping slightly as I measure the circumference of his lower half. This time, I make sure not to touch him, my hands hovering slightly as they move around his backside. It's a shame. His ass is one of his best assets.
When I've taken that measurement, I move to the outside of his legs. Luckily, his tight jeans act as a barrier between me and his skin. That makes me feel a bit better about touching him, actually.
Finally, I move to the inseam. I start at his ankle, moving the tape up slowly along the length of his leg. When I finally look up, I realize how close my hand is getting to his crotch. I freeze for a moment, my face turning red.
"The closer you are, the more accurate." The memory of his words from earlier rings in my ear. I sigh, moving as high up as I can without straight up fondling him. My eyes finally rake up towards where the tape ends, his crotch directly in front of my face.
Is he hard right now, or is it just always straining against his jeans? No, stop. Friends don't think that way about friends. I take away the tape, hurriedly standing up and writing down the final measurement in my notebook.
I still cannot bring myself to make eye contact with him, the deep embarrassment leaving splotches of red along my face. "Okay, w-well, now we can get back to looking at fabrics," I say, trying to hide the embarrassment in my voice as I move to turn away from him.
He stops me, his hand gripping my wrist tightly. I drop the notebook in surprise, and he takes that moment to tilt my face up to look at him for the first time since I started measuring him.
"Wait," he begins, seeming to be searching for the right words. "We’re attending the party together. Our outfits should match," He tells me, his eyes still staring down at me with that same mystery twinkle in them.
"Well, I figure I can just pick out a red dress or something," I mumble, my head still resting in his hand. He tuts, releasing me to pick up the notebook and tape I dropped on the ground.
"No, we need to fully match. That way, no one will question who your date is for the night." He places the notebook carefully down on the chair, twirling the measuring tape intricately between his fingers.
"Oh," I nearly whisper, finally catching on to what he's implying. "I can't really afford to get something specially made... I'll just get one of the premade dresses."
"It's my treat, since I invited myself to this party," he smiles, giving me a look that screams "You don't have a choice in the matter." I nod, lost for words as he raises one of my arms. I gulp, the short sleeves of my dress making skin touch skin as his fingers run lightly up my arms.
He works painfully slow, his fingers tracing along my skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. I can't help the shudder that racks my body, which makes a small smirk play across Sylus' face.
I start to feel a small pool begin beneath my legs, and I have to bite my lip to keep from cursing myself out. Damn it, pull yourself together. He moves to my chest, his fingers not touching my breasts but getting so close that one slip would put his hand against me.
I hold my breath, and the prick keeps moving as painfully slow as he has been the entire time. "God, you're so slow with the measuring tape. I was nearly done by now when I was doing it," I mutter, and his eyes flick up to meet mine.
"I'm just trying to be precise, sweetie," he breathes, looking back down to get the measurement of my chest. He finally releases the measuring tape, an anxious breath quickly leaving my lungs as he moves to write down the data.
I shake my head again, trying to snap myself out of whatever trance he has put me in. The heat is still pooling beneath my legs, a blush spreading across my cheeks. Does he know what he's doing, or is he just an oblivious guy trying to be nice?
He resumes his work, wrapping the tape around my waist and jotting down the numbers. It is then that he gets on his knees, looking up at me from the ground with that same twinkle in his eyes.
It takes all my energy not to squeak from panic. Him on his knees in front of me... I stare down at him, the pool beneath my legs more akin to a river.
"I have to do your inseam now. You're wearing a dress, so I need your permission to put my hands under it."
My eyes widen, my breath halting yet again. The more embarrassed side of me is begging for me to stop him, but the rest of me is practically screaming for him to continue.
"Go ahead," I nearly whisper, and I flinch as his hand touches my skin yet again. He starts at my ankle, running the tape along the inside of my leg agonizingly slow. His fingers lightly drag along my skin, and a breath hitches in my throat.
"You're doing great," he murmurs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. His hand finally reaches my knees, which is where my dress ends. He slides his hand under it, moving upwards towards my thighs.
I'm suddenly aware of the heat radiating off of my body, the warmth pooling between my legs, and his fingers moving further up into my dress. If you had told me earlier that this is where I would end up, I would've laughed in your face.
He finally reaches the top of my thigh, his thumb pressing down roughly on the tape.
And directly into the pool of my desire that has started to soak through my underwear.
His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes closing as he lets out a curse under his breath. I'm almost frozen in shock, my world seeming to crash down around me. He knows.
"I'm so sorry, I don't know what-" I begin, but he grips my thigh with his hands, and the words die in my throat. His eyes flutter open, locking with mine in the mirror next to us.
"Is this all for me?" He asks, and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. What the fuck does that mean, Sylus?
"No. Yes. I'm so sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," I begin, anxiety bubbling in my stomach. "It's just a crush, and I'll get over it, I promise. I know you don't feel that way-"
"Are you dense?" He asks, his grip loosening on my thigh ever so slightly.
"Excuse me?" I ask, looking down at him in shock.
"Have you not noticed the way I look at you? Have you not, for one second, thought about why I would invite myself to a birthday party for someone I have never met?"
I just shake my head, trying and failing to wrap my head around everything that is happening.
"It's because I cannot bear to sit alone at home while you go to that party. The idea of you all dolled up for another man? The thought of you smiling at him, laughing at his jokes..." he trails off, but the look in his eyes is distant. His grip tightens on my thigh yet again, this time from a desperate need.
"How long have you felt this way?" I ask, whispering as I look down at his face.
"Since the beginning. There is not one moment that I have not spent thinking about you, not one night that I have not been lying awake and picturing you. Your touch, your smell, how you must taste," he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on my upper thigh, my excitement now coating his finger.
I can't help the moan that escapes from me, my legs feeling weak as he continues rubbing rough circles on my thigh. I finally recognize the twinkle of emotion that has been dotting his eyes.
It's hunger.
"I've felt e-exactly the same," I manage to squeak out. "God, I feel so s-stupid-" I begin, but he cuts me off with a rough grab of my thigh.
"Don't you dare. You're not stupid, just careful. That's one of the reasons I feel so strongly about you," he murmurs, looking up at me with a frown. The sparkle in his eyes is now a fire, threatening to burn me to ashes with just a look.
"You're perfect," he purrs, his thumb leaving from under my dress and entering his mouth. I fall to my knees in front of him, feeling weak as I watch him feast on my excitement.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this? To taste you?" He asks, his thumb finally leaving his mouth. I curse under my breath, taking his head in my hands.
I pull him towards me, our lips meeting in a fiery clash after months of anticipation. He lifts me onto his lap, my legs straddling him as I run my fingers through his silvery hair. I moan, and he takes the opportunity to bite my bottom lip.
He moves a hand to my waist, the other finding its way to the back of my head as he grips my hair. I groan, pushing him backward until he is lying on the shag carpet below us. I'm straddling his body now, lying on top of him and rubbing my hands under his shirt to feel his toned torso.
"Is it how you thought it would feel?" He asks, breaking the kiss to look up at me. I'm sure I look a mess, with swollen lips and ruined hair. But he looks at me like I'm the only person alive that he wants to be with.
"Better," I tell him, my lips finding his again. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him as he slips his tongue into my mouth, exploring it like it would be the last time he ever would.
He grinds himself against me, his erection fighting against his tight jeans as it rubs into my pussy. I let out another moan, breaking the kiss, as I try to stifle the noise by biting his shirt.
"Stop that," he murmurs, pulling his shirt out of my mouth. "I want to hear you."
"We're in public, Sylus. What if another shopper comes in?" I ask, still fighting moans as he continues to grind himself against me.
"I rented the floor for the next hour. No one should be anywhere near us," he murmurs, moving his hands under my dress. I grab his hands, pinning them on the floor next to his head.
"Shouldn't we just go home?" I ask, and he smirks up at me. I feel something moving beneath my dress and look to see that he is using his tendrils of black smoke. They curl around my thighs, sparking pleasure through my body.
"I need you now," he nearly growls, his Evol pulling down my underwear in one fell swoop. I gasp in shock, and he uses my moment of weakness to flip us over. His hands are planted firmly on the ground beside my head, using his Evol to lift the bottom of my dress and expose my naked lower half.
The chill of the air conditioning blows across my exposed cunt, a shiver crawling up my spine in anticipation. Sylus moves one of his hands down to my thighs, dragging his fingers up and down lightly like he did before.
"Sylus, please," I moan, and he smiles devilishly down at me. His fingers finally make it up to my entrance, teasing me slowly by dragging them around the folds. I moan yet again, out of both pleasure and frustration.
He finally reaches the bundle of nerves at the top of my heat, circling his thumb around it slowly. My back arches, attempting to push myself even closer to him. He pulls away, tutting under his breath.
"Patience isn't your strong suit, is it?" He asks, his warm breath dancing along my face.
"I have been patient for months. I can't be patient anymore," I whine, moving a hand down to grasp his. I move his hand back to my clit, and he chuckles deeply as he resumes his ministrations.
I moan as he begins to rub faster, my back arching upwards involuntarily. His mouth finds my neck, kissing and sucking along the outside with care. He finally reaches his desired spot, nibbling on it lightly before sucking roughly on it and leaving his mark.
He moves his hand from my clit, and I almost begin to complain before something else replaces it. His smoke is now curling around it, taking over his work as he moves two fingers towards my entrance.
"Fuck, Syl-" I am cut off by him thrusting his fingers into me, a yelp of pleasure leaving my lips. He rubs against my walls aggressively, exploring my insides while his Evol rubs circles around my clit. He licks the spot he has been sucking, moving his mouth further down my neck and towards my breasts.
He suddenly stops, the complete lack of stimulation leaving me almost empty. "Sylus!" I whine, looking up at him with a pout on my face.
"I want this off," he mutters, tugging at the material of my dress. I stop him, staring him down defiantly. He raises an eyebrow at me, the question asking itself. "What could you possibly want?"
"Take yours off, too," I whine, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Without warning, my dress is lifted in the air by his Evol, the clothing falling onto the floor and leaving me completely bare in front of him.
I begin to argue, but he does the same for his shirt, leaving his sculpted upper half bare in front of me in all its glory. I can't help but run my hands along his body, and he groans at the feeling of my cold hands against his warm skin.
He pulls over a chair, knocking the notebook and measuring tape onto the ground as he goes to sit down. He beckons me over, and when I do not move fast enough, he wraps his Evol around me and pulls me over there himself.
I'm now sitting on his lap, my back against his naked torso. We are facing the floor-length mirror, my body on full display as I rest on top of him. He kisses the inside of my neck, his hands moving up to massage my breasts.
I moan, my head leaning back against him as I writhe in pleasure. I feel his Evol wrap around my head, tilting it back down until I am looking at myself in the mirror.
"No, I want you to watch. I want you to watch as I take what's mine," he purrs, his other hand moving down to resume its work in my pussy. He thrusts his fingers into me, his other hand tweaking my nipple between his fingers.
I let out a yelp of pleasure, fighting the urge to throw my head back again. Instead, I look at myself in the mirror, watching as his fingers pump in and out of my leaking cunt. It's orgasmic, the way he completely ruins me.
I look up to find that he is watching me in the mirror, his eyes now locking with mine as he fucks me with his fingers. I feel my stomach tighten, already on the verge of an orgasm.
While maintaining eye contact, I run my hand down towards his cock, palming him through his jeans. He lets out a groan, a dangerous look now shining in his eyes.
"Don't start what you can't finish, sweetie," he groans, his hand gripping my breast tighter. I continue rubbing against him through his jeans, his erection fighting against the tight zipper.
I feel a strong sensation of pleasure and look down to see that he has started rubbing against my clit as well, the Evol now taking over the working of my breasts.
I moan again, finally reaching my orgasm as I fall apart beneath his fingers. He lets my head fall back as I pant, my body shaking as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out of me.
When I finally come down from my high, he takes his fingers out of me, bringing them up to his lips and licking them hungrily. I stand up, my hands moving to his jeans as I fight to get them off. He helps me take them off, pulling down his boxers and letting his erection spring up towards me.
I kneel, my hands rubbing along the sides of his shaft sensually. "Do you know how you made me feel when you kneeled in front of me earlier? Do you know how close I was to taking you right there?" He asks, tilting my head up with his hand so that I am looking directly into his eyes.
I don't hesitate, maintaining eye contact with him as I take the tip of his cock in my mouth. He groans, running a hand through my hair and grabbing it roughly. I inch slowly down his shaft, making him suffer like how he made me suffer earlier.
"Fuck, you're such a brat," he groans, using his grip on my hair to push himself further into my mouth. I take him in eagerly, my tongue swirling around him as he moves in and out of my mouth. He curses under his breath, and I feel his cock twitch inside me.
I moan, the vibration against his cock sending him reeling. He pulls out of my mouth, panting. I begin to protest, but he puts a hand over my mouth. "You're getting me too close. There's more I want to do to you," he breathes, practically picking me up off the ground and leading me over to the chair.
He sits down, his cock standing at attention as he keeps me raised above him. "Are you ready?" He asks, his voice dripping in need. I nod, practically begging, and he lines himself up with my entrance.
"Hold on," he says, and I grip his shoulders tightly as he pushes himself into me. Something close to a scream escapes my throat, his entire length sheathed into me in one hard push. "You okay?" He asks, pausing to make sure I am not in pain.
"More. Please," I manage to whimper out. This is all the permission he needs, thrusting in and out of me at inhumane speeds as he groans into my neck.
He begins kissing my skin again, this time more sloppy as he licks up and down the column of my neck. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, his cock hitting the deepest point of my pussy over and over again.
I bite into his neck, my hands still gripping tightly onto his shoulders as he lifts me up and down on his cock. He groans, his dick twitching inside of me eagerly.
"They should be just inside here," I hear Kieran's voice say from behind the door, his footsteps approaching closer.
"Shit," Sylus mutters, practically leaping up from the chair we are sitting on. Like lightning, he pulls us into one of the dressing rooms, his Evol grabbing our pile of clothes and bringing it in with us.
The door opens as soon as we are inside, barely seconds after we had made it to safety.
"Mr. Sylus? The tailor his here to see you," Kieran announces, before leaving the room. We sit in silence for a moment, before the tailor clears his throat.
"Sir?" He asks the empty room, "Trying something on?"
"Yes, just trying out one of the vests from the Fall Collection," Sylus says, his voice surprisingly even. It's then that his Evol lifts me into the air, his dick finding its way back to the entrance of my pussy.
"Syl-" I begin, but he covers my mouth with his hand as he thrusts back inside of me. I whimper, his hand muffling the sound as he continues to thrust in and out of me.
"Well, sir, I am here to take your measurements whenever you are done," the man says, oblivious to what his happening inside of his changing room.
"We have already taken care of that for you. Now, please leave us be," Sylus tells the man authoritatively, his finger moving to my clit as he continues to utterly destroy me. It takes everything in my power not to scream into his hand out of sheer pleasure.
"You've taken your own measurements?" The man asks, bewildered. "I must insist you let me do them. That way we can assure they are as accurate as can-"
"I assure you, they are accurate. Right, sweetie?" He asks me, uncovering my mouth as he continues to pound into me. I look at him with wide eyes, but he just raises an eyebrow, prompting me to answer the man.
"Y-yes. Everything i-is...great," I tell him, in the most even tone I can manage. Sylus has not stopped, his Evol dancing around my body and leaving goosebumps along my skin.
"You hear that? We're doing great. Now, wait for us downstairs, and don't bother us again."
The man apologizes before shuffling out, the door closing behind him. Sylus uncovers my mouth, only pounding harder into me. "Sylus! What if he- fuck- had h-heard us?"
Sylus just looks down at me, pressing down on my stomach to compress my walls even further. "Would you have liked that? If he had found me fucking you like this?" he asks, his cock twitching as if close to release.
"Fuck, Sylus," I moan, my own orgasm nearing closer. The many sensations- his finger on my clit, his dick pounding into me, his Evol around my tits- it's too much to bear.
"Please- Please, let me finish inside you," he groans, sweat dripping down his toned chest as he continues fucking me. He looks at me expectantly, and I just nod in response. He growls, his orgasm finally reaching the edge.
Mine arrives first, my legs shaking as my pussy pulsates around him. My nails scrape along his back, leaving long claw marks along his toned muscles. This sensation drags out his orgasm, his hot strands shooting into me and coating the walls he had spent so long destroying.
He continues moving as we both ride out our orgasms, his lips meeting mine and gently swirling his tongue in my mouth. When I finally stop writhing beneath him, he stops his movement, keeping his cock inside me.
He stops kissing me, choosing instead to look down at me fondly. He runs his thumb along my lips, letting it drag along my bottom lip slowly. I'm panting, my hair sticking to my forehead as I heave out a breath.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs, wiping away a tear that had run down my face from pure pleasure. "Why don't we give them our measurements over the phone? I think we should head back to my place and relax for the rest of the day."
I just nod, pulling him in for a kiss that makes the butterflies in my stomach resume their fluttering. He sighs into my mouth, kissing me back softly and pulling me closer to his warm body.
✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛
Thanks for reading! As always, my asks are open (and anonymous) if anyone would like to request anything :)
-Robyn <3
#love and deepspace#smut#lads smut#love and deepspace smut#lads sylus#sylus smut#sylus lnd#sylus x reader#lnds#lnds smut
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Futuristic Settings and the Erasure of Disabilities
The common theme in a lot of futuristic, sci-fi or not, settings, is the abundance of cure tropes that are thrown in there. Disabled people either don't exist, or aren't actually disabled - they get a magical device that undoes their injury, or get a mech suit that basically does the same thing.
Often the setting is treated like an excuse that can't be rebutted in any way: “but my story is set in the future where medicine is better!”
So: is that true? Does better medicine actually mean less disabled people?
Historical Accuracy
[large text: Historical Accuracy]
In 1900, the life expectancy of a person born with Down syndrome was 9 years. Try putting yourself there and imagining that 2024 is the Future - better medicine, basically sci-fi in comparison to what they had back there. In that future, what is true?
a) There's no people with Down syndrome.
b) People with Down syndrome live to be 60 years old on average.
Answer: B. The only countries with fewer people with Down syndromes are the ones engaging in widespread eugenics, which is a topic I will not be getting into in this post, but I'm mentioning because the only places without disabled people are eugenicist.
The “better medicine” of the future didn't make Down syndrome curable, it made people with it survive longer. 50% of people born with it today will live to be over 60 years old. In the future, there will be retirees with Down syndrome. In the past, 50% of them wouldn't have made it into their teens.
Why does that matter?
[large text: Why does that matter?]
Future medicine won't make disabilities disappear. It will make them more manageable. Less deadly. Easier to survive.
If you base your knowledge and perception of disability throughout the times on sci-fi novels by able-bodied writers, you're going to hate how it actually works in real life.
Have we magically- technologically gotten rid of diabetes? No, 11% of Americans have it. 103 years ago, diabetes were lethal. There aren't fewer diabetics compared to the past. They live longer. You probably know or heard of someone who has diabetes.
You need to expand your understanding on how disability and medicine work, because “future = no disability” is genuine nonsense. It doesn't work like that, and it really frustrates me how writers dead-set on “logic” in their setting fail to see this.
Are paralyzed people walking around in various mechs, or are they using better wheelchairs than those from 100 years ago? Wheelchairs that make it easier to be independent? That help with symptoms of their disabilities by preventing pressure sores, or providing alternative methods of maneuvering?
In the future, why would there suddenly be those futuristic transplant* spines instead of wheelchairs that can be used with one's brain or eyes, for those who can't move their hands, mouth, or head? Why wouldn't there be wheelbeds for those who are currently bed-bound because they can't manage being upright in any way?
*Also, how are all of these magic disability-fixing transplants never actual transplants? Receiving a transplant basically always ends up in being immunocompromised because of the very way the body works. If you're writing about humans, this isn't going to change.
Things like sign language or wheelchairs have been used for thousands of years, they're not going away anytime soon or not-so-soon.
Future = More Disabled People?
[large text: Future = More Disabled People?]
We already discussed that there are presently common disabilities that used to be lethal a century ago or even less. If we use this fact for a futuristic setting, you suddenly have a myriad of new possibilities.
There's vastly better medicine? A lot of people deal with post-rabies syndrome because it's finally survivable, but it leaves people with the effects of the meningitis that rabies cause. There's way more quadriplegic people because the survival rates are much higher. Cancer survivors are more common because people live longer. Physical therapy for people who had prion diseases because they aren't fatal anymore but cause severe disability. Head trauma is more treatable, so there's more people with TBIs and fewer people dying in vehicular accidents.
The technology is super advanced? People with locked-in syndrome can operate an AAC device with their eyes, fully customize its voice to their liking, and not have to worry about battery life of their powerchair because it has sonar panels. Canes that can fold themselves with the click of a button so that they can fit in one's pocket.
There could be so many more adapted sports. Tools and technology that can adapt a house exactly to one's needs. Wheelchairs that are actually affordable. A portable pocket sized device that makes ableds behave normally around disabled people.
The point of this post isn't to completely shit on sci-fi settings, but instead to urge abled writers to think a bit more and try to be creative in the way they go about speculative fiction. Write. Something. New. There's one billion stories about how impossible it is for disabled people to exist in the future, and it's upsetting at best to read that constantly when you're disabled. As long as there are people, there will be disabled people.
mod Sasza
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Wrote some pointless thirst. I know this is OOC because nothing official has been released😚 He's so hot... I can't control myself...
cw: dub-con, yandere
Capitano is super cool!!! He has his face covered 24/7. I would hazard a guess that there is a long and deep scar from the war on Capitano's face, or that there are many healed scars on his tightly wrapped chest and abdominal muscles. He held his chin as he relaxed, his long hair hanging down his back. Wrapped in dark fabric were thick muscles and thin nipples.
Capitano has the concept of "absolute righteousness". He requires you to comply with HIS norms, and he requires himself to comply with the ethics of the strong. "No, this is wrong." You murmured. And he argued with you in a commanding tone. He respects your right to express your opinion, but he doesn't want to see you siding with the enemy. In fact, he did not appreciate some of Fatui's actions in various countries. He'll appreciate it if you stop fighting him. While fighting for the Queen and Gnosis, he hopes he can protect you at the same time. He felt a crack in his stoic heart once he thought that you were too weak for the entire jungle and might be destroyed in the unconscious night.
Capitano's palms have some calluses over the years, and he is used to grabbing weapons and condensing ice and snow. He faced many enemies without even using weapons. His palms cupped the soft flesh of your buttocks, and his fingers dug slightly between your thighs through the fabric. Lift your whole body up and place it on his arms. (No matter what size you are,) it's as easy for him as picking up a piece of paper or lifting a kitten. Your eyes widened and you had to put your hands on his neck for balance. This is his way of moving you anywhere quickly. As your hands caressed his chest and applied ointment, he looked at you through the mask, then closed his eyes. He felt sorry for his thoughts that gave rise to indulgence and immorality.
Once Capitano returns from a fight, he lays you on the bed. gently. He pulled the soft fabric of your lower body and spread your legs, staring at the private part between your thighs. No matter how much you try to close your legs and change the subject, it doesn't work until you say a frustrated "…yes." His body will cover you, the long night will cover you, and that monster cock rubs you for a long time until you are so wet that it becomes a puddle and mud. He drove forward, controlling the lightest intensity.
"Too-too big…!! This is impossible!!" As he gradually advances and expands, the panic chases the pleasure and entangles your heart. Capitano doesn't understand. He felt that he was of normal size and nothing "impossible" would happen. Are you making too much of a fuss? He gritted his teeth and explored the deepest area more slowly but surely. Your eyes reflected "❤", and the sound of water responded to his desire, followed by a slow and deep push in and out. Gradually increase the speed until your waist bounces and your toes curl, forming an orgasm.
After you were too tired and fell asleep on the pillow, Capitano took off his gloves and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. The sound of your sleeping breath and chest rising and falling. With his other hand, he tried to remove the mask, but stopped. The kiss was too soft and intimate for him now. He needs to complete his mission of taking away Gnosis from the gods and protecting the world from Heavenly principles first.
Capitano <3<3
#yandere capitano x reader#capitano x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin x reader
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I think I've figured out a good way to articulate one of the reasons Human Domestication Guide is hitting for me in a way really not much else has done for a long time.
HDG is an inverse fandom.
Whereas a lot of fanfiction (maybe just for the sake of the pun we can expand outwards, wink, and call them "transformative works") takes at the core of its nature a specific character or group of characters, and then transplants (sorry, I had to) those characters into Alternate Universes in order to keep telling altered, revised, and original stories with those CHARACTERS, while changing everything else, HDG does the opposite.
It takes the SETTING as the core defining feature, and creates original CHARACTERS in order to tell original stories.
And that's really cool for reasons that, of course, ended up becoming another gigantic one of Amy's Patented Infodump Posts.
Most fanfiction gets to appeal to its audience because of the associations and attachments readers have for the CHARACTERS, and then create a new story from there without having to spend time setting up WHO THE STORY IS ABOUT for you. I don't say this as a bad thing, that's just the attraction. The readers bring their attachment to the characters WITH them before they start reading.
HDG gets to assume you understand the SETTING as a basic premise, and then tell new stories with original characters without having to hold your hand through as much of the set up work, because you already know the SETTING going in.
So instead of discovering how the characters you know relate to a world you don't (and to each other within that context), you get stories where you get to discover who the characters ARE, in the context of a world you already understand.
It's not "what does a different setting do to these characters." It's "how do different people navigate this setting."
You get to meet and learn and identify with the CHARACTERS because you see how they as unique people react to a set premise.
So much of what I've read so far has done exceptional work establishing who the characters are, even making MINOR characters within the story feel like fleshed out people.
You'd think in a setting that takes at face value the premise of humanity being subjugated and doted on by a species that uses mind control drugs to turn them into docile, obedient pets, the stories would struggle a bit with sameness as the individuality of the characters failed to shine through or were inevitably suppressed over the course of the plot.
In practice, it seems like almost the OPPOSITE is true.
The Affini always win. But every character chooses to lose to them in a different way that speaks to who they are as people.
Getting to explore these unique stories through the eyes of unique characters seems like it's making it EASIER to latch on to what makes THESE characters the focus of the stories being told.
And so far the stories being told are fucking great, and have such a huge range to them.
The original story for the setting is a VERY non consensual medfet/drug play subjugation story where Elvira (captain of a ship for the Free Terran feralist rebellion) is ABSOLUTELY brought into domestication by force (at first), and we get to see the PROCESS of her being broken down and becoming something new over the course of (what we later learn has been ONLY) about three weeks. She's not the same person she was at the start of the story. At all. She's been utterly replaced by a new identity and personality that the old version of her would never have accepted. (Also it's kinda hot that it's actually good for her, and that she very much DOES end up happier for it. She's still Elvira. But she's safe, and she's loved.)
That's a pretty specific vibe for a story.
But the next story I read in the setting takes place over the course of several hours in-universe, and basically follows a dysfunctional, clearly neurodivergent woman stagnating in the limbo of having been failed by capitalism (or in her mind, failing at it) and having mixed feelings about the staggeringly powerful alien civilization that is currently part way through conquering her planet and its people.
The story starts off when she's so hungry after scraping through what scant, nutritionless garbage she was able to find in the capitalist dystopia that it finally overrides her fear, and she goes to the border of Affini-controlled territory in her city. She figures, they're going to do whatever they're going to do to the rest of the city within a few days anyway, so there's no sense pretending whatever outcome she's walking into wasn't inevitable, and even if it's not as good as the Affini promise, at least it's not what she's been stuck in. Fear of sameness finally becomes more traumatic than fear of change.
She proceeds to go on an adorable lesbian grocery date with a 10 foot tall plant that gently flirts with her while remaining very firm that all of this human's needs CAN and SHOULD and WILL be taken care of FOR her from now on, and it's OKAY that she has trouble focusing because it's OKAY that some people need more help than others.
She spends several chapters experiencing repeated Lesbian Bluescreens because of this sweet, doting alien who insists it's no trouble at all and she's happy to help. Then said alien takes her back to her apartment on the human side to make sure she feels safe getting there through the anti-Affini protests, and then in a matter of minutes she has cleaned this girl's entire disaster of an apartment and promised to cook her a nice Terran pizza.
Then the girl has a lesbian panic attack while coming to terms with how much misery she didn't have to be living with, and whether this future isn't exactly what she always hoped for and more, so the alien offers to give her some alien drugs to calm her down, and her now fuzzy brain accidentally crumbles under the weight of all the secret petplay fantasies that have been turning her face red all morning and she accidentally calls the alien "Mistress", and then she goes home to THEIR place back in Affini territory with her new owner and gets absolutely spoiled until she falls asleep feeling safe and loved for the first time in her life.
COMPLETE tonal shift from the original story, but the LOGIC of the story is fully consistent with the setting. It's just a different character responding to that setting in a different way.
The range of what's possible is ENORMOUS.
I went from there to "two humans captured at different times struggle to find their way back to each other and end up with neural implants plugged into each other's brains by their shared Mistress, and the feedback loop helps them domesticate EACH OTHER" and then from there to a mostly historical context story about an Affini who lived for almost 300,000 years and how she feels about the Compact's role in everything they've done to the universe.
And then I got to read "I have to pretend to be a good little floret maid at an Affini Compact hotel because that's my Genius Spy Cover WHOOPS it turns out being a maid means getting teased and played with a lot WHOOPS, OHHhhh NOOOoo~ I'VE BEEN TURNED INTO A FREE USE HYPNO DOLL because EVERYONE KNEW I WAS A SPY THE WHOLE TIME, I'm going to resolve my mixed feelings by erotically betraying my co-conspirator so we can be floret girlfriends together," which was cute, funny, and INCREDIBLY hot.
Seriously, chapter 10 of that story. Holy FUCK. I think my brain has turned fully inside out. I had a DREAM kinda like it afterwards that I wish I could remember more of.
I guess my point is HDG is less like a fandom and more like DND.
It's a shared universe of collaborative storytelling, even if any individual work within it was made by one person.
You get to play within a core set of rules for how the setting works, but the stories that can come out of playing by those rules are so incredible and diverse and interesting, and I'm really enjoying getting to explore all of that within the context of a basic premise that has absolutely grabbed most of my kinks by the throat, stared menacingly into my eyes, and smirked knowingly.
Also it's INCREDIBLY queer and very obviously made specifically for gay autistic trans women who take progesterone, so I guess just like the rest of the little Terrans, I never stood a chance.
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by the grit of sandpaper {masterlist}
Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader
Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.
Word Count: 57.8k - finished
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little mean in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, arguing, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), jealousy, more to be added as the story develops!
A/N: now finished! this fic means so much to me, it's allowed to bare a bit of my soul with y'all and it's been received so well. thank you, from the bottom of my heart for the continued interaction with this, i love y'all
ao3 link || main masterlist || ko-fi
fic teaser || fic teaser no.2 || olive's song || artwork of olive and joel *NEW
the conversations we have -pre-series one shots:
sweetening the deal || how we pass the time || weather permitting
main series:
chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7
epilogue || honor me - a post series timestamp
#dev writes#fic: by the grit of sandpaper#tlou#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#jackson! joel miller#joel miller series#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#carpenter joel miller#artisan joel miller#woodworker joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#angst#pining#unrequited feelings#hurt and comfort#jackson era#jackson era joel#patrol partnership#ao3 link#ao3 fic
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my gendered experience growing up as an intersex person was overwhelmingly defined by my responses and resistance to everything that got me labeled as a failure: failure to quickly get a gender assigned at birth, failure to go through a normal puberty and grow up into a woman, failure at meeting the standards for "complete womanhood" because of my intersex sex traits, and yet simultaneously failing to ever be acknowledged as a "real man" and being treated as a threat when I expressed I wanted to transition.
before i realized i was a man and came out as trans, the ways that girlhood was denied to me was very often humiliating and painful. locker rooms filled with other girls were a frequent source of shame. there were many big and small ways that i was told that my intersex body made me insufficient, incomplete, broken. i was forced onto estrogen, forced into shaving my body hair, and was constantly being told to change myself to better fit this mystical idea of a "normal woman." and even though I ultimately ended up becoming a man, the denial of girlhood was painful.
but i think that these things would have been even more difficult to navigate as an intersex girl if on top of everything I already said, i was having to cope with the denial of my girlhood while i was forced into boys locker rooms. if my doctors were forcing me onto testosterone hrt and refusing to even discuss estrogen, if all my legal paperwork had "M" on it and was a logistical nightmare to change, if every support group for my intersex variation labeled it as a "men's support group," if the LGBTQ community spaces i tried to join were misogynistic towards me often to the point of exile, if my self determination as an intersex girl was denied in most spaces of my life, and on and on and on. while listing all these things out i also don't want to make it seem like it's all about suffering and pain--so much of transition for me has been about joy in my self determination and how much it feels like a reclamation of autonomy to decide what I want my body and self to be like--i know this is an experience i share with so many of my trans intersex friends.
as an person who was AFAB, although there were many ways that trying to grow up as an intersex girl were a painful, logistical nightmare, many times and places that i was excluded from woman's spaces, etc. however, there was a simultaneous affirmation that i was right to strive for that in the first place. which is logic rooted in some fucked up compulsory dyadism, but also which would have made some things slightly easier or even possible at all if i had wanted to embrace being an intersex girl within this fucked up system.
pretty much every time i've seen people on tumblr talking about "afab transfems" in an intersex context, people seem happy to collapse these experiences and act like there's no meaningful distinction or point in distinguishing between different types of intersex embodiment. it seems incredibly extractive, to be perfectly honest with you--taking terms already used by a community to make meaning of their experiences and to expand and dilute that term enough that it means something pretty different than the original.
it's making me think about the concept of epistemic injustice, which is a term coined by Miranda Fricker to describe oppression related to knowledge, communication, and making meaning of the world. There's two subtypes of epistemic injustice: testimonial injustice and hermeneutical injustice. Testimonial injustice refers to the dynamic where marginalized people are labeled as not credible, excluded from conversations, and their testimony and knowledge is labeled as unreliable, even when they're the ones who are experts and have first hand experience of what people are talking about. (this is why i probably won't make this post rebloggable--i've noticed this pattern on tumblr many times where trans men speaking about transmisogyny get lots of notes and are given a lot of grace, where trans women are silenced, attacked for not having perfect wording, and otherwise delegitimized.)
the second type is called hermeneutical injustice. it describes how marginalized people are denied the right to make sense of the experiences in their own lives. this can look like preventing people from building community, terminology, a political understanding of themselves, and the interpretive resources needed to process how you live in the world.
this is a form of injustice that I think almost all intersex people are very familiar with--we are denied community and interpretive resources to the point that we're told we don't even exist, that intersex isn't a real word, and so many more examples that leave us isolated and with very few options for understanding what we're collectively experiencing. as an intersex person i really intimately understand how frustrating, confusing, and painful it is to not have words for your experiences, your identity, your life.
so it makes me really sad and pissed off when it seems like intersex people seem to be replicating this exact same type of epistemic injustice towards transfems and specifically towards intersex transfems. pretty much every time recently i see people talking about "afab transfems" they're doing so in a way that seems to deny that trans women even have the right to make sense of their own experiences in the world. there seems to be this mindset that these political frameworks, these interpretive resources that transfems have built up are just up for grabs for anyone. and then on top of that has come with it a lot of cruel, hateful language and direct attacks towards many intersex transfems who are facing so much harassment right now.
an important value to me is this idea of reciprocity as a foundation for solidarity. to me reciprocity means that we're prioritizing the ways we care for each other, we're thinking about how we can uplift each other, and we're watching out for extractive or exploitative patterns where one group is constantly expected to be in "solidarity" with another group without getting the same respect and care back toward them. i think that there could be so many ways that intersex people of all genders could share our overlapping experiences and actually be in true, meaningful solidarity with each other, but i barely ever actually see that happen on tumblr. and that pisses me off, because i do think that there's so much we have in common that we could celebrate and support each other with. i feel so much kinship with so, so many of my trans intersex friends, and ways where i see our lives converge. but i don't think that can happen in an environment where there's no acknowledgment of the ways that our experiences will sometimes (often) differ from each other, and the ways that we have unique needs.
another frustration i've had based on this most recent couple months of transmisogynistic intersex posting on tumblr is how intersex people have been mostly ignoring intersex community resources and devaluing the existing intersex terminology that people created to try to meet our needs. so much of what i've seen people describing on tumblr seems to really line up with the term ipsogender. Ipsogender is a term coined by an intersex sociologist Cary Gabriel Costello, and is used to describe intersex people whose gender matches the gender they were medically assigned at birth, but who might not feel like cis or trans fits them, might experience dysphoria, and who might feel like they've ended up transitioning medically or socially in some ways. this is a word that exists that an intersex person put time into coining because they wanted other intersex people to feel seen, embraced, and have ways of understanding themselves and communicating to others, and that's something that's super meaningful to me! and yet, i've rarely seen anyone reference it, and also seen multiple people making fun of it in other spaces online.
there's also intergender, which is another intersex specific gender term used to describe when your gender is inseparable from your intersex traits, and that your intersex identity is intertwined with your gender identity in some way. some people just identify as intergender, others use it as an adjective and exist as an intergender man or woman. intersex terminology like this is really important to me, especially because we're so often denied the right to make sense of our own experiences.
i think ultimately what i wanted to say with this post is just that when i think about intersex community, some of the most important values of intersex community for me are solidarity, care for each other, and affirming our right to define our own existence. and i don't think that can happen in a community where people are acting in extractive ways, harassing and attacking their fellow community members, and being dismissive of the realities of other intersex people's lives.
#personal#actuallyintersex#intersex#actually intersex#transmisogyny tw#this post is not going to be rebloggable for now but if any intersex mutuals want to reblog it i might turn reblogs on#this just feels like an intersex conversation in a way i would prefer not to do with an audience of spectators.#also a tangent: i do understand that agab is not a body descriptor. i think that agabs are a form of curative violence perpetuated onto us#this is something i've been consistent about expressing for years. if you go back to old posts you'll see that there's many times i've said#over the years that agab is messy. that i know people who were assigned one gender at birth and another gender as a toddler#who identify as cis and trans and a million other things. i understand that and im not interested in denying their existence#so. don't take this as a universal statement from me about every single instance of “amab transman” or “afab transfem.” but rather in the#context of the current dynamic i'm seeing on tumblr of widespread transmisogynistic harassment#that i think much of the way people are talking about this is exploitative and harmful#also i've made many posts before talking about how like. many things would change and become intelligble in a less compulsorly dyadic world#but we aren't there yet. and so there are many terms that are still meaningful and relevant for us right now#and as always: i am one intersex person with one perspective i like to hear from other intersex people including intersex people#who think differently from me
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