#this was in my drafts so enjoy lol

[ylangelegy]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You—" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[panthermouthh]

And I said, “Hello, Satan

I believe it’s time to go.”

[1caru]

About the Sword of Koholint Island. you know, the level two sword? I like to call it Dream Weaver. the dream world equivalent to the maser sword. the thing is, once someone draws it, it's theirs till death. and i like to imagine traveler with the other links getting ambushed, his sword gets sent flying and he's about to be struck down but then *flash!* a most familiar sword appears in his hands.....a sword that while it saves his life...brings back memories he finds too painful. and suddenly he's telling the gang about Marin, the island, and what he feels is his greatest crime... just to feel less....hurt inside.

does that sound like a thing? like a cool idea?

I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this! You caught me right at the beginning of one of my busiest college semesters yet lol

I love your idea, here's a short fic about it to make up for the wait!

(tw: panic attack)

"Can I get some help over here?!" Legend yelped, narrowly ducking under the swing of a darknut's blade. One of the Rancher's monsters, if he recalled correctly. He could hear the young man dramatically sharing the tale of how he had once faced down four of them at once, light from the campfire dancing excitedly in his eyes as he talked about how thrilling it was to hone his swordsmanship against such highly skilled and armored foes.

Legend had decided that the man was a lunatic.

"Give me a second!" Wind responded from a platform above Legend, "I've got a few more bubbles and floormasters to clear out!"

"No problem, take your time," Legend grumbled, bracing his shield against another heavy blow that made his teeth feel like they were going to rattle out of his skull. He sidestepped the next attack, trying to keep all the darknuts in his line of sight. One was still in full armor with a claymore, the other two had lost most of their armor and were wielding broadswords. Legend narrowed his eyes, focusing on the one that looked the most injured. He could probably take it down in another hit or two, as soon as he found an opening.

The darknut, unfortunately, was smart, and was generally keeping it's distance from him. The other sword-wielding darknut recognized Legend's plan and suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to catch him off guard while his focus was elsewhere.

Fine, guess that one was going down first then.

Legend dodged and quickly struck at the opening as hard as he could, causing the darknut to stumble. He pressed the advantage, raining down blows until the darknut finally collapsed and disappeared in a small cloud of inky smoke.

"Vet, look out!"

The other wounded darknut had closed the distance and attempted to use the smokescreen to help it run Legend through. The Vet simply grinned at the predictable strategy. He readied his sword to fell the monster.

Something bit into his shoulder, and the cold, unnatural sensation of a curse spread from the wound. His sword dropped from his grasp.

Right, Wind had mentioned bubbles.

Legend managed to raise his shield just in time, but the angle of the impact still sent him crashing to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of his tempered sword's orange blade as it spun by him. He scrambled away from the remaining two darknuts and blindly, frantically, felt around for his weapon, praying for the bubble's curse to fade by the time he found it.

One of the Sailor's arrows flew by his head, pinning the bubble to the ground. It's curse lifted from Legend's shoulders.

The darknuts towered over him, their blades raised.

His fingers grazed a hilt, and the Veteran's heart lept.

He snatched up the blade and plunged it into the wounded darknut right as a battle cry sounded from the platform above and the Sailor dropped onto the head of the other darknut, his own sword sliding right into the gap in the monster's armor right by it's neck. Legend rolled out of the way of the darknut he had just slain as Wind jumped off of the remaining darknut, and together the heroes hacked off it's armor before finally taking it down.

They stood there in the now silent room for a moment, catching their breath.

"Well, that sucked," Legend groaned.

Wind had the audacity to giggle in response. "At least we managed to get out relatively unharmed! …You aren't seriously hurt, right?"

"No, just a lot of cuts and bruises, no big deal," Legend responded dryly, "I would like a nap, though."

"Yeah, a nap sounds good," Wind sighed. "Oh, you dropped your weird orange sword by the way, here!"

"Huh?"

Legend turned to find the tempered sword lying in Wind's hands.

"Where did you pull that other sword from anyway? It looked like it just appeared out of thin air!" Wind asked excitedly. "Is it magic?"

"But, I thought I-"

Legend looked down at the sword in his hands.

The very

very

very familiar sword…

Waves crashing on the shore. Seashells and sand between his fingers. Hair as fiery as the setting sun, and a smile just as radiant. A new blade to help him along his journey, the smell of sea salt forever ingrained in the leather handle.

It was a dream.

It was always a dream…

…

…Was this also… a…?

"-et, hey Vet! Link!"

Who was…

"Link, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay?"

Breathe…

His chest hurt.

"In and out, okay?"

He tried to take a breath, and almost immediately choked. He coughed violently, his chest burning.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Just try again, okay Link?"

He managed one tiny breath. Then another.

Still too fast, way too fast, he wasn't doing it right, his heart was fluttering like a bird in a cage-

"You're doing great, buddy, take your time. Breathe like I do, okay?"

Someone was holding him. Their chest rose and fell against his cheek, slow and steady, an anchored ship riding the choppy waves. He held on as tightly as he could and listened to the rhythm.

In, out. In, out…

Slowly but surely, Link's breathing began to even out. He exhaled slowly, the motion shaky but relieved.

"Hey, buddy, you back with us?"

Oh, the Sailor was holding him.

"Y-yeah," Legend answered hoarsely, "Sorry to make you deal with that-"

"Hey, hey, none of that," Wind interrupted, holding Legend tighter, "We've all gone through stuff like that, you know? I'll always be happy to help you."

Tears began to gather in Legend's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Okay," he said softly, "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind hummed happily. "Are you ready to get out of here, away from… well, whatever sword that is?"

Legend froze, suddenly catching sight of the blade that lay on the ground by their feet.

It was still there. He hadn't hallucinated it. Why was it still there?

He broke away from the hug, instead holding Wind by the shoulders so that he could look the boy directly in the eyes. The bright blue tunic was soft beneath his fingers in spite of the fairly thick layer of dust and grime from the battle that covered it. Body heat seeped through the fabric. Worry and confusion swam in Wind's eyes.

Legend braced himself.

"Sailor… this might sound like a weird question, but… are you real?"

"I- what?"

"Please," Legend begged, "Just… tell me. Are you real?"

Wind placed his hands over Legend's. "I believe I am. Why do you think I might not be?"

The Vet glanced back down at the sword, still lying on the ground next to his usual tempered blade. "That sword… it's from one of my adventures. In that adventure, I met and grew close to a lot of people. But… it was all a dream. None of it was real, not the island, not that sword, not a single person except me."

He looked up at Wind, eyes frantic. "That sword shouldn't exist, but it does! You can see it, I can see it, but it was just a dream! It was only ever a dream! So please, tell me, what does that make you?"

Wind simply stared back at him in shock.

Legend's shoulders slumped.

"Please…"

He bowed his head in defeat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.

"Hey, Vet, hold on," Wind said gently. "Don't give up, we don't have proof either way yet."

"Why's that?" Legend croaked.

"Well, you know, I also had an adventure in a dream. Maybe."

Legend's ears flicked in surprise.

"It was the domain of the Ocean King, a kind of whale deity I think."

Legend's head shot up at that, his eyes wide.

"It was a separate place from my own Great Sea, and no time passed while I was there, but you know what? I had a friend there who was able to come with me back to my world, even though he was from the Ocean King's domain. Do you think, maybe, that sword did something similar?"

"I…" Legend trailed off uncertainly, "I don't know. I didn't think that was possible."

Wind thought for a moment. "Oh, do you have some way to check whether you're awake or asleep? And don't say that you stab yourself or something!" he added quickly, "Because I won't allow that!"

Legend nearly laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't do that, too risky." He removed his hands from Wind's shoulders to dig through his item pouch, eventually coming up with a small, worn ocarina. "I have a song that can wake anything, even a deity."

Wind giggled softly. "I guess I should have expected that from you. Well, go ahead and play it!"

Legend hesitated, staring at the ocarina.

"Sailor, if… if we are sleeping, and this song wakes us up… we might never see each other again. We might never see the others again either." His hands shook. "I-I'm not ready for that."

A soft, encouraging smile shone on the boy's face. "Veteran, do you wanna know something? I don't think either of us are asleep. I believe this whole adventure has been real. I believe the Champion's cooking was real, and I believe the Captain's playful banter with you was real, and I believe Sky's excitement when we asked about his wood carvings was real."

He cupped his hands around Legend's, holding the ocarina with him as if he was making a wish on it.

"I believe the Smithy's annoyance when that like-like almost ate his shield was real, and I believe the Old Man's smile when he saw Miss Malon again was real. I believe the magic that the Traveler used when he refused to give up on our Rancher was real, and I believe that the strength that the Rancher showed when he returned from the brink was real. I believe that all the time I spent with you, and all the time you spent with us, all of it was real, Veteran. I believe that with my whole heart."

Legend let out a shaky breath as he met Wind's earnest gaze.

"Trust me," Wind said, "Play it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Slowly, very slowly, the Veteran brought the ocarina to his lips.

"I'm holding you to that promise," he muttered softly, and he began to play.

The Ballad of the Windfish broke the silence of the dungeon, it's notes echoing off the vast stone walls in an utterly beautiful and haunting way. Legend nearly fumbled some of the notes as he felt the song's magic begin to flow, but Wind rested a comforting hand on his leg to steady him.

Trust.

The two heroes closed their eyes as the music washed over them. The notes climbed higher, higher, then…

They stopped.

Silence.

Legend opened his eyes to find Wind smiling back at him.

Nothing had changed.

Legend let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled the boy into an embrace. He buried his face in Wind's shoulder, whispering thanks to the goddesses over and over.

Wind held him just as tightly. "I told you, I told you!" he cheered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement.

The Vet pulled away just enough to give Wind a watery grin. "You did. Thanks, kid. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Hmm, I'll give you a pass on calling me a kid this one time," Wind teased. "Oh, sword's still there, by the way."

"So it is," Legend hummed. "…I think I'm too exhausted to further consider the implications of that right now, though."

"Me too," Wind agreed as he rose to his feet and offered a hand to Legend, "Want to go find the others and leave this problem for future us?"

Legend looked at the two swords for a moment, then carefully ran his fingers over the Koholint sword as if to confirm it was still real. He sighed and sheathed the tempered sword on his back before picking up the Koholint sword. As soon as the thought of where he would store it crossed his mind, it vanished in his hand. He blinked in surprise, then tried willing it back into existence. It reappeared right back in his hand. He vanished it again, and turned to take Wind's hand.

"Yeah, leaving this for later sounds good."

[humming-fly]

Happy to report I have finally started listening to Malevolent and to no one's surprise I am already obsessed (I'm almost done with s2 atm please don't send me spoilers yet sdlkfj)

I'll skip over my usual formality of having one normal art post before diving into shitposts let's not waste anyone's time here

[joyfuladorable]

Fuck it, here's all my favorite Mikey-centric fanfics!!

There's A LOT + personal blurbs, so they're going under the cut (Mostly AO3, but there are some FFN links, too. Also, besides like the first two, there's no favoritism in the order)

2k3:

Pretend That I Never Left by redstringraven(sirimiri) - Complete/Plans for an Epilogue & Sequel!!

Fic that changed my BRAIN?! If my fanart [1 | 2 | 3] for it is any indicator, lol. I'll say for the umpteenth time that if you're looking for an Excellent Mikey fic with Perfect Characterization, this is IT (and you don't need to know ANYTHING about HZD trust me TRUST ME this fic deserves WAY more love) His swift ride-or-die friendship with Aloy will melt your damn heart!

Dragon of the Sun by ForestWhisper3 - Ongoing

My Other TOP favorite Mikey fic!! Again, fanart [1 | 2 | 3] indicator! Slow Burn(ish) Canon Divergence of Mikey unlocking his Mystic Powers as his family looks on in dismay as they struggle to protect him. The Good Shit!!!

Of Darkness And Light by Bayluff - Complete

OOOOOOO THIS ONE! Very good (also drew fanart for it)! Evil creature literally trying to consume Mikey's lifeforce from within as his family scrambles to help

A Chat With The Titan by secreterces5 - Complete

Mikey has a fun one-on-one talk with the supposedly reformed Bishop in Fast Forward. Mikey vaguely threatening Bishop, HEEHEE

A Simple Act Of Kindness by UlisaBarbic - Complete

That feel when you put your worth in what you can DO and the wish to be Acknowledged and the ONE thing you thought you did right was taken away OOGH AGH OOOOGH

Difficulty Breathing by RealityBreakGirl - Complete

Mikey did not come out of Grudge Match unscathed *smile* Truly one of my favorite 03 Mikey prompts to read about (honestly just check the entirety of the Grudge Match tag on AO3 for a fun time)

"A delivery boy! Uh, or turtle." by LollyHolly99 - Complete

Fic that has the distinction of being the first one I ever did fanart for! Gender Feels for Mikey cuz they're just like me FR!!

What Darkness Most Fears by UlisaBarbic - Complete

OOOGH AGH I LOVE THIS ONE!! Mikey has to save his bros from the clutches of an evil spirit while surviving horrifying monsters and battling a wicked fever!

Michelangelo by ForestWhisper3 - Complete

Mikey through the eyes of his family and how much they respect him and know him UwU

Mikey's Jigsaw by SailorSaysAhoy - Complete

Another awesome gender Mikey fic HOOHAA

Train-Wreck of Thought by halogalopaghost - Complete

When you're so talented you learn how to astral project but you start using it for pranks instead of understanding the drawbacks of said power and that bites you majorly in the ass big time (very good my stomach turned while reading this /pos)

A Brother's Bond by SuperKat - Complete

Mikey gets Real Sick and the fam can't help but remember last time one of them got so ill. OH MAN heartstrings WILL be pulled in this one!!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by moogsthewriter - Complete

Why can't Mikey ever catch a break during Christmas! A short fic that I enjoy Immensely for Mikey being stubbornly heroic and his family desperately trying to play catch up to help him

Questioning Choices by Mystic Medjai - Complete

Fun day at the beach goes catastrophically bad and the fam has to make difficult decisions to keep Mikey alive. THIS THIS THIS!! If I could pour this into my veins for the perfectly paced plot and characterization...

When It Counts by Kallasilya - Complete

Short fic of Mikey stubbornly and bitterly proving his brothers wrong (+ Don being a good brother)

Favourite Disease by devirnis - Complete

Mikey is forced to save his brothers as his body gradually falls apart from the inside. SO GOOD UGH Mikey being forced to deal with situations on his own always show how far he can Shine!

Nowhere Boy by taizi - Complete

OOOH I dunno how I can summarize this without giving the plot away but just know Mikey pulls through by thinking of his family

To Fit the Crime by T33la - Complete

AHHH AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHHHH!! Mikey is accused of Murder and receives his sentence before his brothers can even jump to his defense! Oh the twists and turns of this murder mystery!!

you want to know why i sit and sigh (the night is so young it hurts) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete

Angel and Mikey bonding over comics and unsupportive brothers So Cute)

imma be real with you (cause i started being real with me) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete

Leo and Usagi being supportive of Mikey as he struggles to train for the upcoming Battle Nexus fight (and also maybe they flirt with each other a teensy bit)

just a hop, skip, and a jump away by baba_buoy - Complete

Mikey sick fic. Heart melting amounts of comfort UwU

Weak Link by yellowhollyhock - Complete

Sweet fic of Mikey feeling insecure about his place on the team, and Leo going through great lengths to prove him wrong like a good older brother :')

'Cause you are the sun, he is your moon/And though he can't speak, he will thank you soon by naivesilver - Complete

Post-Grudge Match Mikey waking up in the middle of the night bitter and sore and gods damn why's Raph awake, too?

Hunted by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete

Mikey wandering the woods alone in the middle of the night and having a VERY unfortunate encounter with hunters

Flipbook by T33la - Complete

Heartfelt moment between Mikey and Don concerning SAINW that makes me want to smash a cinder block against my head /pos

Dramaturgy by Completely_Unaware - Ongoing

Mind the tags! Mikey deals with a Battle Nexus loss in an unhealthy way (UmU)

The Red Means I Love You (Work) by AnonymousCritter - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS! AU of Fast Forward. Mikey isn't saved from the traffickers in time and things spiral from there

The So-Called "Champion of the Battle Nexus" by 0ozero0 - Ongoing

Grudge Match canon divergence where Mikey gets hurt a little more seriously than in canon (but still wins)

2012:

Devil took your hand by moogsthewriter & taizi - Complete

Mikey mind controlled by the Shredder moment!! *laughs through my pain and tears and screaming*

walk with open hands by taizi - Complete

Mikey gets his hands on one of Renet's watches and things go topsy turvy from there (and it HURTS ME)

(un)reality by SpectrumWriting - Complete

Mind the Tags! Dimension X AU where Mikey is captured by the Kraang and is put through the wringer in more ways than one (OWIE)

evermore (Dimension X AU) series by coffeejellyenthusiast - Complete?

Mind the Tags! Mikey was in Dimension X for over a year and he's NOT OKAY

Gravitational Collapse series by Writing_In_Denial - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS!! An Incredible it gets worse before it gets better series of Mikey being unintentionally abandoned by his brothers post-series and dealing with some Major Isolation and OOOGH IT HURTS ME SO MUCH BUT I WILL KEEP READING FOR THE EVENTUAL COMFORT

traveling so far to get there by taizi - Complete

Mikey and Raph getting stuck in an empty, post-apocalyptic world and struggling to survive (their BOND IN THIS IS SO SWEET WEH)

Rise:

nice, nice by postergirlsprank - Complete

Short fic of Casey Sr and Mikey bonding after an unfortunate encounter while on a snack run (Hey if you want more context for how this author writes Casey, go read his fic Imperfect Animals too heehoo)

either way, we're not alone by sinaesthesis - Complete

Mikey throughout the years of the Kraang Apocalypse (Lots of Loss and Hurt and Badassery)

going under by redhairedmuses - Complete

Mikey almost drowns during a fight with a mutant

Hyperactive Hypothermia by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete

After Mikey's winter wear accidentally goes in flames and a villain-enduced avalanche, Donnie struggles to keep his baby brother warm

that’s where the blood’s supposed to be! by Dragon_Scales_and_Fairy_Tales - Complete

With Raph and Leo constantly bickering, Mikey ignores a very serious injury after a fight with Meat Sweats

Clever Little Dino! by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete

Mikey trying to keep a robot pet a secret and suffering the consequences

Vs The World by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete

The aftermath of the Kraang strains the family's bonds, and Mikey feels hopelessly alone (and definitely isn't dealing with his trauma properly)

Empathy Amplified by Filsamek - Complete

When you accidentally use your powers to connect with your brothers' emotions then purposefully use them to ease their pain

Sunshine in the Rain by Carnati0n_bl00m - Complete

Probably the first fic I read after watching the Rise movie cuz I wanted to find something Mikey-centric involving Bishop and BOY does it deliver with the additional bonus of Leatherhead!! (also hey look fanart)

A Mystic Connection by rytheoneandonly - Complete

Mikey's mystic powers manifesting and evolving in ways he could never predict (aka Long Fic of Mikey stumbling to figure out why he wakes up exhausted and hurt every night)

The whole world in your corner series by GibbousLunation - Complete

Two fics of Mikey being Mikey and his bros being protective

Better Check Twice by Marz_Zero - Ongoing

Bishop captures a turtle with a bear trap (OW) and is an absolute bastard about it

Come Home Soon by Sherlock_Brolmes - Ongoing

With his brothers unavailable, Mikey (with the help of a former enemy) uncovers a massive conspiracy involving New York and the Hidden City. I LOVE THIS I LOVE SOLO DUO TEAM-UPS!!!! *PUNCHES THE AIR 13 TIMES*

Mikey's Artistic Guide to Dealing with Trauma and Fame by Origami_Nami - Ongoing

Mikey using graffiti as an outlet and accidentally becoming famous

Rook by unorthodoxx - Ongoing

Another Bishop fic of him outwitting the turtles to abduct one of them (Mikey)

Multi/Other:

Mystic Malfunction by VanillaVengeance - Ongoing

Rise Mikey accidentally portals himself to the 2012 Universe and struggles to survive and avoid this other version of his family (with mixed success). The progression of familial bonds in this is just *Chef's Kiss*

The Gauntlet by T33la - Complete

A mix of IDW & 03, a wonderful showcase of how Donnie and Mikey support each other (also, a cool invention and a big rocket and a terrifying near-death experience are involved)

I Get Knocked Down (But I Get Up Again) by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS!!! Set in its own original iteration, Mikey has been immortal for as long as he can remember, and he's used to his occasional deaths (and revivals). But then his brothers find out... (AGH AGH THIS ALSO HURTS MEEEEE BUT OOGH the comfort and hope of the later chapters is so Worth It)

Whumptober 2023 series by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing?

Collection of Mikey-centric one-shots from different iterations and feeling the HURT (Personal favorites are If Only the World Could Stop Spinning..., Just a Flesh Wound, and Not the Best of Days)

To Know Peace (You Gotta Let Go) by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing (technically)

The Last Ronin Spoilers!! Mikey survives and whisks the new turtle tots away to live on a farm instead of being raised as soldiers. (AUUUUUU THE FEELS!! THE TOTS! MIKEYYYY!!!)

How to accidentally kidnap yourself several times over by Camildeni - Ongoing

Rise Mikey gets captured and accidentally summons other iterations (03, 12, and Bay) of himself trying to get out! They do NOT have a good time!! (but at least they have each other)

the dad diaries by angelmichelangelo - Ongoing

More TLR Mikey being a Dad (and dealing with his trauma sorta kinda)

The neighboring cell by SaltyYagi - Ongoing

2012 Mikey and Rise Leo trying to escape Dimension X together (and bonding)

Bonus Non-Mikey-centric:

Weathered Strings, Tethered Wings by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing

(2003) SAINW AU!!! With the possibility of Don being alive dangled in front of them, the remaining turtles begrudgingly reunite to save him. Drew a cover for this with more art to come! LOVING the slow burn of reconciliation between these bitter old turtles UwU (Bitter Old Mikey my poor Bestie)

Mutant Nightmare by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete

(2003) The immediate aftermath of Worlds Collide

Hanging By A Turtle by CamsthiSky - Complete

(Rise) Literally the turtles struggling to get out of a deep pit they're hanging over

Shell Game by T33la - Complete

(2003) OKAY OKAY SO!!! OOGH Don encounters something Impossible while prepping a tracking device (for himself) and it snowballs into another Renet-involved time adventure (AND UMMM lots of existential contemplation and a surprise historical guest who's Very Cool)

Turtle Power by halogalopaghost - Complete

(2003) Immediate aftermath of the star ship reactor explosion in Exodus

Disposable by orphan_account (kudos to you wherever you are, author) - Complete

(2003) Bishop captures Don and Mikey and gives them a terrible choice

Dissection by AmevelloBlue - Complete

(2003) So much Comfort after the trauma of Worlds Collide (ie Don's interrogation and Mikey almost getting sliced open)

Find the Road by SillySocks - Complete

(2003) Perfect encapsulation of the family as they cope with Leo's absence while he trains with the Ancient One

Handle with Care by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete

(2003) April is seriously injured during a mission and has to deal with the turtles distancing themselves from her as she recovers

mind-body problem by hiraethseok - Complete

(2003) April and the Turtles Being Siblings the Fic

Healing in Tandem by Eggstasy - Complete

(2003) Canon divergence of Worlds Collide where Splinter is just a little too late to intervene before Bishop starts sawing into Mikey's shell

Let's Take Ibuprofen Together by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing

(2003) The turtles swap body and have learn to cope with each other's chronic pain

Not the Face I Know by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing

(2003) Mikey accidentally makes a wish that changes his family's lives forever (THEY'RE HUMAN THEY BECOME HUMAN AND THE PLOT IS COOL AND ALSO QUEER THEMES MY BELOVED)

The Great Skittle Heist of 2105 by AmevelloBlue - Ongoing

(2003) AU of Fast Forward where the Dark Turtles are babies instead and are very swiftly adopted by the Fam

The Labyrinth by HALFnHALF1 - Ongoing

(Mix of IDW/03) The Turtles wake up separated in a labyrinth with only a mysterious voice in their heads to guide them (and manipulate them)

“You didn’t tell me your extended family was in town!” by BoStaffsAreCool - Ongoing

Post-Turtles Forever. The 03 fam is Just beginning to wind down after the events of the movie and look who's knocking at April's door (the 87 turtles)

[vynnyal]

This is a pretty good point in the wip to share this, methinks :]

Map part for the hole dwelling map, starring... Not my ocs! I wanted to use ocs, but I don't have any-- so I just used the characters from a fic I was reading at the time 😂

Turns out, the symbolism was so much fun to twist into the 11 seconds I had to work with, I ended up going way more complex than I meant to. If you wanna read the fic this was based on, please do!! And tell the author I said hi! :D

[cashmere-caveman]

apparently ive had this in my drafts long enough that trouba isnt even a ranger anymore so time to exorcise this

[catzgam3rz]

"Goop this one up Motherfucker"

[bimboothefool]

Briar in Other Universes✨

Huge Disclaimer a majority of these VN’s are intended/made for those who are 18+ & up! Minors don’t play/interact with these games, respect these creators wishes.

[hauntingofhouses]

yeah taimizu IS toxic and off putting actually ‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

EDIT: TO BE CLEAR THIS IS A POST IN FAVOUR OF TAIMIZU!!! I AM A DIRTY TAIMIZU SHIPPER!!!!!

[jazzy-a]

Think about Destiny being the literal know-it-all older brother of the Endless family.

He is the ULTIMATE "I told you so"-er, and I imagine it pisses his siblings off lol.

...

Dream: Calliope and I are finished!

Destiny: Oh no, who could have seen THAT coming???

Dream: (-`_´-)... Sarcasm doesn't suit you, brother.

...

Death: Did you hear that Lucifer tried to ENSLAVE Dream!?

Destiny, casually flipping pages: Mmm-hm.

Death: (¬`^´¬)

...

Delirium: And then there were little fish swimming everywhere without their arms! But the fire got too hot, and the bones didn't like it, so they left. With the bubbles! Dark bubbles...

Endless siblings, watching Destiny:

(_/° _ °\_)

Destiny: I already knew about the volcano in Thailand.

Everyone: \_(O` [v = v] ´O) _/ A#!&ST&#$!DSJJ!! *screaming and throwing furniture*

[bigtomo]

A POST OF MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE THAT I LOVE SO MUCH EEEIRUEIRUERIUREUIEUIRIUERAUIERUI ERIR EWIURPOIEDSURFPIOER SOBS SOBS SOBSSSSS

[10kiaoi]

Time slip AU (2-8/9)

Time Slip AU (1/9)

[norringtondeservestheworld]

“I’ve never slept with a knight before.”

“I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

[shieldedreams]

a little dream come true (e.u.)

summary ⇾ eggsy remembers just how he met you–be it chance, be it fate–and remembering it every now and then brings a smile to his face (yours too) details ⇾ 1,715 words / eggsy unwin x data-analyst!reader / gn!reader / 🌸 fluff / merlin being the biggest shipper of you two (we do not talk about the golden circle...)

the kingsman headquarters grow quiet in the thick of the night, as it always does. eggsy finds himself down one of the hallways, making his way towards a specific office to find his favorite person. he slows down when he passes by a door that looks familiar. backtracking a couple of steps, he looks through the small window and the sight refreshes his memory. his memory of when he first met you.

heavy breathing. loud ringing in eggsy’s ears. he can’t hear or think straight. he’s about to lose his god damned mind from all this intense training but he knows he’s got to get a grip. he’s made it this far–top two–there’s no fucking way he’s stopping now. he came so close to being ran over by a train; if he can pass that, he can surely pass this.

he finds himself in a small room with nothing but a person tied to a bomb. there’s no door, no window, nothing. he’s torn in this situation, unsure of how to go about this when it seems like there’s only one path to doing what’s right. he’s gone as far as to make sure you’re safe but the only thing left is the bomb to diffuse. as far as his prior background experience goes, he’s only got thirty seconds to spare. there’s no way out, no form of help apart from his conscience and the bag over your head to cover your whimpers.

he manages to grip onto your shoulders, telling you to find your way out as soon as the bomb goes off and that it wasn’t your fault. none of this was. though he knows you can’t comprehend it with the onslaught of tears and whimpering, eggsy’s said his piece. he throws himself with the bomb as far away from you as possible despite the lack of space to begin with.

with his eyes clenched shut and quivering lips along with the image of his mother and baby sister in his mind as his fading thoughts, the impact... comes in a form of a sweet voice cooing him from his imagination. he flinches when the bomb stops ticking and instead of exploding him to bits, it... shuts down? he blinks a couple of times to make sure he isn’t dreaming but when he comes face to face with you, the bag now off of your head, eggsy sucks in a breath.

“congratulations, eggsy unwin. you’ve passed the test.”

his brows are furrowed, accepting your hand up to his feet as he blinks at you, “w-what?”

a doorway suddenly appears, the simulation-like room disappears to a simple bedroom with wooden walls... as they remain contained in a glass cube. it clicks in eggsy’s mind that everything wasn’t real, though his heart giving out just may be it.

he still doesn’t know what to say, how to react. a part of him thinks this isn’t real but when you lure him out of the glass box, towards the bed, he immediately flops down to take a seat. with a small smile, you offer him a cup of water he accepts, still confused but he knows an explanation is coming as you take a seat next to him. 

he appreciates how you allow him to take a couple of breaths first. though, he’s uncertain if it’s because of what he just went through that’s making his heart somersault like this or if it’s the proximity between the pair of you. it doesn’t help that he’s able to look at you up-close, watching you watch him. it’s... a weird feeling. comforting, yet it’s making him nervous.

“as a kingsman, it’s important to put others before yourself. in that moment, when you decided to take the bomb with you and step away as far from me as possible, you’ve passed the test.” 

eggsy chugs down the water, eyeing the bag on the glass floor he’s certain was over your head. you chuckle when you match his line of sight. “oh, that’s transparent, by the way. i could see everything.” you reach to take his emptied cup when he looks like he’s done with it. your fingers brush over his gently, almost electrifying his body upon contact that he tries not to flinch. he’s obviously failed when you snort.

“i’m sure merlin will give you brownie points for positive reassurance. not many would know how to comfort another right before their demise.” you rise to your feet. “he’ll be here in–”the door cracks open and it changes the course of your intended sentence–”right now, as it seems,”

“there’s my favorite member of staff,” merlin greets, stepping in just as you turn to face him, “y’know, i’m sensing a little bias here.”

merlin gasps, “me? biased? no, can’t be.” the two of you laugh it off, leaving eggsy very confused but he doesn’t interrupt just yet.

“i’ll be off then. congratulations again, eggsy.” you raise the cup at–”merlin,”

he salutes you playfully, “y/n.”

when the door closes along with your leave, that’s when merlin notices how quiet eggsy has been. merlin carefully sits next to the young man, patting his shoulder, “you alright there? not quite like you to be stumped over something like this when you were more than ready to get run over by a train.”

the first thing that eggsy asks is: “who was that?”

merlin chuckles, pulling his hand back from eggsy’s shoulder, “that’s y/n. they’re one of our top data analysts but they’ve got some experience from field. they saved me once, hence, the reason why they’re my favorite but don’t tell no one, alright?”

eggsy nods quietly, still staring at the direction you left. he notices he’s quiet when merlin has this shit-eating grin on his face, clearly understanding that you left an impression on him.

“if you say anything about this, i will personally chop your balls off, merlin.”

“oh, i wonder why would you do that when i could give you a reason to see them?”

“...merlin, if you’re serious i will love you forever.”

merlin was indeed serious. that day was the first unofficial date you went on with eggsy merely minutes after meeting him for the first time. eggsy still remembers it like it was yesterday despite it being a couple of years ago. the fond memory lives in his mind and–”best have someone familiar in your mind when you look through that specific window.”

it seems you’ve snapped him out of his reverie when his shoulders flinch just a bit. he turns to you, that cheeky smile forming from a small one, to a wide grin as he makes the move to walk towards you. despite being in public, eggsy has never shied away from showing you his affection.

his hands almost immediately reach for your waist, even if you try to swat them away with we’re in public! his response is always nah, don’t really care, and you feel the security wrapped around your waist and the adoration kissing the side of your head as eggsy hugs you. although it’s late in the kingsman headquarters, it doesn’t mean that it’s completely empty. there’s a potential risk of someone coming by (even though the entire bloody corporation knows by now) and it still makes you shy every now and then.

you’re about to succumb into his embrace, until a peek over eggsy’s shoulder allows you to meet with–oh–”not in the hallways, kids. pack it up and move somewhere private.”

with a muffled huff, you’re about to push eggsy away but he remains firm, locking his arms around you as he calls off to merlin who promptly walks past, “oh piss off, merlin. don’t act like you weren’t rooting for us in the beginning.”

merlin looks like he’s about to let it go, but he backtracks so that he can get a glimpse of you, “oh yeah, forgot to tell ya, lover boy over here has been head over heels since day one. and i’m not talking about the first date.”

merlin only sticks around enough for it to hit you, and then he’s winking at eggsy before he’s off. when it’s just you and eggsy again, you turn to face him and he’s effectively avoiding eye contact, arms shifting around your waist.

“is he talking about your test? that’s the first time?”

you watch as eggsy’s mouth open and close a couple of times, before he musters up: “l-look, merlin’s just talking straight out of his arse–”the slight raise of your brow and small pout is all it takes for eggsy to crack”–and–oh for fuck’s sake, yes. that’s the first time!” you press your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, it’s harder when eggsy pulls away with a scoff.

“might’ve been gassed out of my mind but i know a pretty thing like you when i see one. just so happens it’s one that makes me feel all sorts of things even before i get to know them.”

patiently, you wait until he’s done with his little rant and he notices you’re waiting. oh, how polite. he looks at you with a sigh, “go on, make fun of me already. call me a hopeless romantic and all that bullsh...”

eggsy only processes what had happened when you’re a couple of steps away. sure, the two of you have kissed and gotten intimate plenty of times already since getting together but it’s the small moments like these that truly create an uproar in the butterflies in his stomach. your hushed giggle, the soft yet urgent kiss planted to his cheek, that giddy buzz that surrounds you as you quickly pull away. it’s... the smallest things that rile him up the most, and it’s working.

“again...” he says, now walking towards you as you walk away, “again! come back here!”

you squeal as you try to make a run for it, eggsy hot on your trail as he chases you back towards your office. merlin scoffs a laugh as he’s waiting for his coffee from the machine nearby, shaking his head but well-aware he’s the reason for all of this to begin with. he’s mighty proud when he gets his drink, making his way towards his office and notices the happiness radiating from both eggsy and you down the hall.