#yeah he pan as hell

[nico-sdv-archives]

boykisser

..? Well, yeah? Gender is irrelevant when it comes to who I kiss, everyone can get a smooch if they ask nicely.

[stars-n-kites]

really enjoy the implication that merle is a powerful cleric not because hes particularly devout or even really that good at it but because pan just really loves him specifically. divine nepo baby

[navree]

genuinely would love for some of the "both parties are the same" people to name me a single election in the entirety of the twenty first century where the outcome for the country wouldn't have been better if a democrat had won

[cl-0v3r]

Im going to be really upset if MelJay does break up.

But I'm not worried about the breakup itself, but rather how insufferable THOSE people will be about it.

Considering how much this fandom loathes this ship and acts like it's venom, its safe to say they will be celebrating the breakup like there's no Tomorrow ESPECIALLY if Mel was the one to initiate the breakup, Jayce hate will fly through the roof and Mel will be mischarecterized to the power of 60. And not to mention the toxics will be annoying as fuck to MelJay lovers. Like, there's countless posts defending s1 Meljay right? Talking about how its not problematic and all of that, i know these mofos will come back to rub it all over your face if just the slightest bit of distancing happens between them.

I don't like most of the fandom very much, I've had similar experiences to this over on tiktok and I've seen it happen in twitter (of course) and discord and I wish not to see that again.

I don't want to see MelJay break up, or have relationship issues, because they're literally the loves of my life, my babies I swear. but I won't really deny it if it does happen, its the writers choices and there's going to be a proper reason why (its lowk not looking good for both of them so) i will PROBABLY eat everything up either way, and I won't stop shipping them, like, i can probably just stay focused on the s1 version of them or something.

But the people man, the people scare me so much, I'm not ready to fight for my life like I did s1 ����

So like, If I see the slightest bit of attitude, i'm blocking. Dramatic yes, its a fictional ship, yeah, I know, I don't care.

Also; no I will not be defending either of their actions if they had actually done something horrible (neither should anyone), and if they are toxic or become so, i will not glorify or try to excuse anything. I will try to enjoy whatever is given, a wrong stays a wrong even if I (or you) doesn't like it. I cannot change any outcomes.

[jjkyaoi]

even though i lean more towards gay gojo in any universe (because it js fits more in my mind) i can at least understand him being bisexual. like i get it. however FEM gojo is a completely different story because she has to be a lesbian. like there’s no other sexuality for her in my mind. if gojo satoru was a woman she would be a lesbian and she would RETCH at the thought of beinb with a man

[knicks-knacks]

Ren got a normal little acorn from a tiny squirrel and loved it so much that he just. carries it around everywhere. in his pocket. because it was so cute that he found it soothing. he had no clue it was even important, it was just a tiny acorn gift. he showed it to Kyoko who immediately also loved it so much that she made an adorable little chain and holder so he could carry it more easily. which he then shows off don't tell me to stop yelling

[looney-mooney-studio]

Been playing a lot of Cult of the Lamb lately, here’s an art of my in-game polyamorous genderfucky Butch Wife, Witness Bathin 💜

[sombrathedragon]

Hi me again that anon and um

it's Qibbles.

Qibli.

btw my head canon 4 him is that he's bisexual

To be honest I probably date Qibli if he was a real person

hell I probably date all the Jade winglet if they were all real people

Why have Qinter or Moonbli when you can have Sombli 😈😈😈😈😈😈

[stevethehairington]

OH BOY book announcement. on the one hand im excited because MORE EDDIE HELL YEAH and also ive heard good things about the other books, but on the other hand nO i LOVE the backstory that we as a fandom have created for eddie, i don't want anything else!!! i don't want to see it any other way!!!

and im also hellllllla not looking forward to the upheaval it surely WILL cause when Certain Things do/don't get "confirmed"

[jihef03]

I think I haven't cracked Captain Hook yet. As in "trying to fit Barrie's dark and sinister version from the 1911 book". Every time I try to depict Hook in a serious manner I'm left unsatisfied. Like I made this recently :

And I think it suits Barrie's vision to a degree, but It's just kinda boring to me.

James Barrie made his vision for the character pretty clear in the book and other declarations, but I'm really part of the general audience that appreciates the more capricious takes of the character. Hook to me comes off as more interesting when he's a funny but black hearted- upperclass twit mixed with a murderous intents.

[fighterbound]

“i don’t stand a chance against sasuke, do i?” / FROM SAKURA TO NARUTO u know how it issssss

His heart stutters and trips over itself. All the breath from his lungs is ripped out with that single question. Time seems frozen as that question pounds itself into his head, replaying over and over. Then like clockwork his instincts flare to protect him, working to try and stop the torrent of emotions unleashed from the rooms he shut them in. It's ironic how Sakura's question has tethered itself in his mind while unshackling his own feelings.

Outwardly he shows his teeth, not in threat or warning, but to soothe. A wide happy smile. Happy is safe, happy doesn't have room for problems. Happy doesn't threaten him the way conflict does. Only these instincts are the same ones that have been pushing him away from this very conversation. Telling him to fold away all their previous little talks and underlying jabs and lock them away.

The smile he tries to give life to keeps melting off.

And Sakura given him no room to run this time. It's like she's cornered him. Her question a kunai that met its target. No matter how he spins this, he can't pretend he didn't hear her. Can't laugh his way out of the corner she's pressed him into. Pressing his hands against his side, he fights to keep his fingers relaxed despite the gut wrenching need to curl them into fists. This is Sakura...she...she's not someone that should be receiving this sort of reaction. Defensive and angry.

Yet...as he stares back at her and tries to work out a response a heat bubbles inside him. It's not explosive or abrasive like when facing an annoyin' enemy or arguing with Sai. No this...it's worse because it's been simmering, growing and expanding. Try as he might, it's been cooking too long and refusing to be shoved off the burner. His hands can't handle the heat. He doesn't want to feel like this. Angry. Annoyed. Agitated. Frustrated. None of those emotions ever work well for people. They create problems, drive people away, and they're just not good! So why is he so mad at her question? Why can't he shake it off and pretend like all the other times? It is cause she's got him trapped without an escape? Like...like she's demanding an answer out of him. One he doesn't he want to give, and why should he? Who is she to make him answer such an unfair question? His eyes narrow.

The words that have built on his tongue are all wrong. Terrible, ugly words that could brea--, no they will break them. They will shove a deeper wedge between them. He'd rather swallow his own tongue than speak the nasty truth that is filling his throat. Breaking away from her gaze, he stares down at the ground to reorient himself. Right now he's drowning in the overwhelming reaction of his emotions and thoughts. The only way he knows to break to the surface in these rare times is through his voice. Shouting, reacting, physically getting everything out. However, never have those times had him before a friend, especially one as precious as Sakura. Actually no, Sasuke been on the receiving end but...

Sasuke is different. The bitter truth. Bitter all the way to the core because of what it confirms. Though ain't that the answer she's looking for? It's why she's asking the question, ain't it? She knows. Every talk they've had since that evening in the bar, it comes back to Sasuke. He's grown from being a tiny little thorn between them to wrapping around them like vines. Every shift and twist Sakura and himself have managed to try and escape, have only pressed them deeper against the many thorns, making them bleed over the bastard that chooses the outside world instead of them. Yet...Naruto can't fault him. Can't bring himself to ask for more.

Would he...feel the same if were Sakura? If Sakura were to be swapped with him, would his own feelings be at the intensity they are for Sasuke? The hesitation in his heart tells him the answer he doesn't want to face. The answer Sakura is probably lookin' for. If she's expectin' this answer...should he just say it? Stop letting it simmer between them. His stomach drops just at the thought. But how long are they gunna keep doing this? If he evades now, will she keep comin' at him like this? Pushing more and more until the answer it pulled out of him. Why does she wanna hear this? Is she lookin' for an out or something? Then why ask him? She should be the one to say it.

Not him. He won't bare his neck like that. Running his tongue along the back of his teeth, decides right then and there to fight back. This ain't just gunna be him. He's gunna fight his way out of this corner!

"If you're askin' like that, makes it sound like you already have an answer," he rasps finally, like he's been inhaling smoke for far too long. Maybe he has, choosing to sit in the burning home of their friendship instead of trying to put it out. Every muscle is coiled tight with tension, bracing for whatever reaction he's going to receive. He's got fear pooling into his gut like an endless waterfall and that kicks him into gear. As his fingers dig into his sides, he does what he's worst at.

Waits.

★; addressing the elephant in the room sentence starters. / @fightaers

[rainecreatesstuff]

me and my best friend’s dynamic really is just cringefail gayboy and his lesbian hypeman

[starkeysbunny]

awards season

pairing - drew starkey x interviewer!reader

summary - just bc drew is so fuckin flirty with everyone he talks to including interviewers.. like it looks like he falls in love w them every time. #whenisitmyturn. anyway. so drew being flirty as hell with a sweet interviewer on the oscar’s carpet <33 also i’m a film major and just love film so i got this idea in honor of awards seasonnn

warnings - flirting, lots of innuendoes 😝

“three, two, one.. and action.” the camera man says as he starts rolling. i smile brightly in my baby pink silk gown, my hair cascading down my shoulders, makeup perfectly done for the big night.

“hi vanity fair, i’m y/n and i’m your host tonight for the biggest night in film. welcome to the oscar’s! we had an amazing year in film, leading to a memorable awards season. we saw babygirl, wicked, nosferatu, queer, a complete unknown, the substance, and so many more.” i continue my introduction as the stars start to arrive.

i had been doing publicity and journalism in the film industry for about two years now and i got my first big gig tonight. the oscar’s with vanity fair. i mean, i couldn’t believe it. all the connections i could make tonight, it could be my big break.

but what was really in the back of my mind? the fact that my celebrity crush had been at the forefront of award season this year among many new break out actors.

drew starkey.

and i was scheduled to interview him in just a few minutes. safe to say, i was trying not to freak out.

i start off with an interview with nicole kidman, talking about babygirl. as it wraps up, she walks off to the next interviewer and i turn to the camera.

“okay, now that we just interviewed mother i’m not sure if anything will live up to it!” i gush with a smile. i look down the carpet and see who’s arriving next.

daniel craig and luca gaudagnino.

was i sweating? i think im sweating. shit.

this meant drew wasn’t far behind.

i turn to the camera, plastering a grin on my face. “okay, next we have drew starkey. he started with college student films, leading into small roles in feature films like love simon, then to his breakout netflix debut with the hit show outer banks. and now, he’s here for his first awards season run for his A24 film queer!” i introduce, as the camera pans over to him.

my jaw nearly drops.

he was wearing a navy blue loewe suit with a white button up under, and a navy blue bow tie. his hair was messy, his grown out—almost mullet—style complimented by the scruff on his jaw. he had sunglasses on, and as he approached the paparazzi, he pushed them up into his hair.

fans scream behind the barricade, as he smirks with a menacing grin, waving at a few of them.

he takes photos with the paparazzi, even flirting with a few of them.

i’ve seen his past interviews and you can tell he’s a bit of a flirt. which just makes my nerves peak even more.

i watch as he finishes with the paparazzi. his publicist comes to his side, pointing out me and the camera man next to me.

he grins, nodding slightly at us as he walks over.

“hey.” he says softly, sticking his hand out for me to shake. “i’m drew.” his blue eyes pierce into mine. he didn’t even glance at the camera yet, his focus purely on me.

“h-hi, drew. i’m y/n, and we’re with vanity fair.” i introduce, reaching my hand out to shake his. his much bigger hand enveloped mine, shaking lightly.

he lets go and glances at the camera, quirking a brow. “hey, vanity fair.” he chuckles lowly. he looks back at me, his tongue licking over his lips as he looks over my silk dress, then back up to my eyes.

god.

“so. drew, your first oscar’s!” i begin with a grin as i hand him a microphone for him to speak into. “are you nervous?”

he chuckles lightly as he looks down at the mic. it’s usually the microphone i would use, but we had a malfunction before the carpet and had to switch up the microphones.

“yeah, microphone malfunction, ignore it.” i chuckle softly. “yours is bigger than mine.”

he grins, his tongue poking to the inside of his cheek. “oh yeah?”

my eyes widen and i swallow roughly. a small, nervous chuckle escapes me. i should’ve worded that differently. shit.

he licks his lips and his eyes slightly squint as he notices my nerves at the slip up. “i am nervous. about all this.” he says softly. “terrified actually i- uh..” he trailed off, grinning almost like he was holding back.

i raise my eyebrows. “what is it?” i ask softly.

he looks back at me, “i’m just not sure if i should admit to a pretty girl like you that i called my mom in the hotel to talk me down before i got here.”

my cheeks tinge pink as he calls me pretty. focus. i chuckle softly. “no, hey we all need a little mom encouragement sometimes. it’s my first oscar’s too, so we’ll get through it together.”

he grins. “yeah, i hope so. sounds fun.”

i press my lips together in a giddy smile as i glance down at my cards. “so, you’ve just taken on your first big art house type film, queer. the tabloids have said that many directors had their eyes on you for the 2024 film run. what stuck out to you about this script?”

he smiles softly, his eyes focused in on mine like i hung the stars and moon as i asked the question. “great question, yeah, i mean.. luca.” he chuckles. “luca is someone i’ve wanted to work with as long as i could remember. so, i guess that was definitely the surface level..” he moves his hands as he explains. “.. attraction, i suppose. but, i also love the book, william s burroughs, i just fell in love with the story. playing eugene is something i’ll always remember.”

i grin softly, watching as his eyes light up as he explains. “that’s beautiful.” my hand comes to his bicep over his suit jacket sweetly. “i’m glad that your first big film was such a memorable experience. how has the awards season been, press and everything? was it different from press tours you’ve done in the past?”

it felt like we were having our own conversation. the camera wasn’t right next to us. microphones weren’t right below our lips. flashes and shouts weren’t heard in the background.

“oh yeah,” he nods. “for sure. film festivals were obviously something i’d never done before so that was a big adjustment. then of course, big nights like these. the emmy’s, oscar’s, and so on.. it’s been a journey, for sure.” he chuckles. “but daniel and luca have been so guiding and helpful through my uncertainties, i guess.” he smiles.

his publicist taps him on the shoulder and nods her head forward, signaling it was time to move on to the next interview. he politely smiles and turns to me, handing me the mic. he reaches in and hugs me—which i was not expecting.

i grin as he embraces me and pulls back, his hands resting on my forearm, near my elbow. “hey, i hope to see you inside, yeah? it was really great talking to you, y/n.”

i smile softly. “yeah, you too, drew. good luck tonight!” i wave as he walks off.

he turns over his shoulder and winks as he slips into his next interview. i let out a huff of breath, turning back to the camera. “wow. did anyone else just fall in love with him?” i joke.

not joking, actually.

“next we have..”

the red carpet went on for the next hour, interviewing actors and actresses, directors, and other talent walking the carpet. once the carpet concluded, my camera crew of two and i, were escorted inside the ceremony.

vanity fair was among the few only press outlets allowed inside the actual ceremony of the oscar’s.

we were escorted to the press section of the theatre, a small boxed off area by the stage, to the side of all the seats where the stars sat. we set up our little corner, the cameras arranging themselves as i fix my hair, adjusting my mic.

i look over at the audience as we wait for the show to begin, spotting drew almost immediately. and he was already looking at me.

he grins, standing from his seat and gingerly excusing himself past through the rows of actors. and he walks toward the press box.

our press box.

—

part 2 w… smut possibly ??? 😝😝

[bangytell]

close friends

Summary: Your best friend and roomate who's been keen over you for a long time.

Genre: friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff, nsfw

Rated: +18, mature

Pairing: Jungkook x f! reader

Word Count: 3,015 k

Warnings: mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, oral sex (f! receveing), use of pet names, non idol! au, rough sex, creampie, cuddles.

a/n: Working on this for soo long, enjoy!!

The rumbling noises from across the room had you becoming more and more annoyed by this agreement. Your roommate, being his horny self practically begging, to let him have sex in his dorm. 

“C’mon [name] promise i’ll put on music you won’t even notice.” he said with that stupidly beautiful bambi eyes and that dazzling smile that makes you weak on the knees, how to say no to that. 

You feel the regret soon enough, some girl was shouting, literally leaving her lungs on every shout, not even the music was loud enough. He wasn’t that good, was he? Of course you already knew the answer to that question… but kept your mind out of it.

The next morning, while you were making breakfast, the girl popped into your kitchen, pleading loudly for your roommate's company. She froze right on the spot when she saw you.

“Uhm… excuse me, who are you?” her tone was bitter with her high pitched voice as she held a look of disgust.

“Jungkook’s roommate.” you said, calmly stirring the pan with scrambled eggs.

“I’m making sure that changes.” you scoff as you see her turn around on her toes back to Jungkook.

Jungkook opened his door and made his way to the kitchen, greeting you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I met your lovely and amazing guest.” your tone dripped with sarcasm and he sighs as he runs a hand through his locks.

“What did you say?” his voice is slightly exasperated and you scoff with your gaze down on the pan.

“Why, would you even- “ you stopped your words at his condescending look on you “yeah, fair play, but wasn’t me this time, i swear.” he sighs and heads straight into his room, you hear the whining all the way to the kitchen and scoff.

Once at your office the day goes by with ease, 5 minutes before your leave time, Jungkook sent you a text.

A bright smile lights your temple as your co-worker reaches your desk.

“What puts you in such a good mood?” he asks as you take your bag to leave.

“Oh nothing, I just remembered the hell waiting for me at home.” he chuckled with a slight roll of his eyes.

“Another of your roommate’s flings?” he asked with a sly grin as you both walked out of the office.

“He’s been talking ‘bout this girl for ages, he won’t shut up about her.” he chuckles again and you scoff

“You’re jealous.” you roll your eyes with a defiant look on him.

“Why should I be jealous, I have known him since I was 18.” your friend laughed once more while you both reached the parking lot.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so jealous, you’ve been dying to get under his sheets for God knows how long.” you look at him in despite.

“I'm under the impression you’re not that content at the moment.” you both chuckle as he waves goodbye and shouts. “See you tomorrow!!” He's always so energetic. 

Once at home, you change into your pjs as you hear the door open followed by some muffled voice sounds. 

You hear the way he laughs, and walk out to the living room as the image of him clinging to her makes your heart ache. 

“Hey doll” he greets me when he notices me.

“Oh hey Koo.” I sit on the couch as the girl looks at me with disgust.

“Why do you talk to her like that?” the girl spits out and I look over at her.

“Just a playful banter between each other.” Jungkook whispers and she scoffs.

“Don’t call her that” she commands and I look at him.

“I’m starving.” you take a pizza from the box and take a bite as Jungkook grabs the remote to put a movie.

"How was work today Koo?” you murmur at his way once you swallow the bite.

“The usual stuff prin-... [Name] you know how it gets. "you chuckled softly when you noticed his slipped words.

“You’re not asking me?” the girl chimes in with her high pitched whiny voice as the movie begins. 

“How was your day?” you asked, looking at her.

“It was a great day actually, until I got here thinking I would get to be with my boyfriend alone.” a low chuckle escaped your lips at her snarky comment.

“Sorry to crash your dream.” you turn to look over at Jungkook “But you know what…” you trailed off and stood to walk inside your room, you emerged with a pair black sweatpants and a black jacket “I’ll go drive a little.” you looked over at Jungkook. “Text me when I can come back.” 

“Are you sure [Name]?” you gaze at him and nod as you stand at the door frame.

“Yeah, I kinda need to hop on my bike.” You chuckled slightly and stepped outside as the light breeze hit your face, the bike roared to life between the traffic for an hour until your phone buzzed in the pocket of your sweatpants, the phone ringing, you steer the bike to a corner and take the phone to your ear.

“Hey Koo!” he chuckles softly his voice comes through the phone low and hoarse.

“Hey princess, my guest is gone now… I think we need to talk.” you sighed softly and nodded even though he couldn't see you and responded with an equally low voice.

“Yeah we need to talk, be there in five” you hanged up after your goodbyes and drove to the apartment, you parked the bike at the parking lot and opened the door to see him sitting at the couch.

“Koo.” He looks up at you with a soft smile, a few tears running through his cheeks, at the sight, you kneeled in front of him on the floor. “Hey… what’s wrong, love?” he sobs slightly as your cold hands cup his cheeks.

“We fought and she left… basically dumped me.” you let out a soft sigh and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Was it because of me?” your voice is a low whisper against his ear he sighs and shakes his head on your shoulder.

“No… well a little.” he murmurs with a hoarse voice. “That’s what I need to tell you.” he pulls back to lock gaze with you.

“You can tell me anything” your voice is a low murmur and caresses his face gently.

“She dumped me because…” he trails off, shutting his eyes closed to your gentle strokes. “I've known you almost my whole life, right?” he mutters with a strained voice.

“Basically yeah, what about that?” your voice is a low and intimate whisper.

“She thought that I might have feelings for you” you let out a slight chuckle. 

“That can’t be” I look into his eyes, his features turn serious as he looks at you. “It can’t be, right?” your voice is a low murmur and he nods slowly.

“I do have feelings for you…” he mutters and you feel your breath stuck in your throat.

“Y-... You what?” you mutter in a stutter. “Jungkook uhm… think this through” 

“I have, for the past half hour, she left the first ten minutes, okay?” you look up to his eyes. 

“Go to sleep Koo, i’m sure…”  he grabs your face to catch your attention, your heart pounding heavily on your chest as his doe eyes lock with yours. 

“I’m sure princess, I'm confident of what I just told you.” he murmurs softly and almost lovingly.

“Y-...You must be confused Koo.” you mutter in a stutter and he stands and guides you into his room, she shuts the door behind him and your eyes roam his room, neat and clean.You see a picture of his graduation from college with you in it.

“See that picture?” you simply nod, your mind filled with thoughts. “You gifted it to me, with something written on the back.” he murmurs as he holds the picture in his hands “I’ll be there to follow your dreams, even to just rest on your back, be sure to keep going.” you keep your gaze at him attentively as he recites the inscription by memory. 

“That was like 4 years ago, how can you remember?” you murmured softly.

“I read it when I feel down.” he murmurs and goes to one of his drawers to pull a night light “Remember this one? You gave it to me when we were little.” you nod and a small smile appears on your lips.

“Yeah, you were afraid of the dark so… I gifted it to you, you still keep it?” he nods and places it back on his drawers, he goes to another one and pulls an old pantie of yours, you blushed slightly as he showed them to you.

“Remember this one?” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. 

“Y-...Yeah, it was from our first night here… we got wasted.” you murmured with a deeper shade of red on your cheeks as he grins smugly. 

“We got intimate and I kept it, just as a reminder.” you let out a soft embarrassed chuckle. 

“That was two years ago Koo, and we talked about it.” you murmur softly and avoid his gaze, he walks closer to you leaving the panties on his bed. 

“You’re not getting my point here princess.” he holds your chin in between his fingers to tilt it up so you look up to him and pulls you closer by the waist with his free hand, you’re flushed as a tomato as his warm and taut body press flushed against yours.

“I clearly ain’t.” your voice is a low murmur, your breath almost brushing his face. 

“I kept all those things because I liked you.” you look into his doe eyes, searching for a hint of playfulness but find none, he holds you tightly and secure pressed against him “Like actually sounds a little, I’m in love with you.” you blinked in disbelief and your breath stuck on your throat.

“Y-...You’re i-...in love w-...with me?” you mutter in a stutter and he nods pressing your bodies closer.

“So much it pains me, and I'm sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” you blinked slowly as if that will help to settle the turmoil inside you, he takes a strand of your hair behind your ear with a gentle graze over your skin and you close your eyes to his touch. 

“You’re in love with me…” you repeat in a murmur to try and believe him “I have to go to bed.” you mutter and let go of his arms to lock myself in your room, he stands there with his heart in his hand as you shut the door behind you, he stays inside his own room as you lie down there looking at the ceiling.

Why didn’t you just tell him you liked him back? What are you…? your thoughts trail off as you listen to soft moans and whimpers in the house, You know those moans and whimpers, you stand from the bed and sneak outside to find Jungkook with the old panties against his own member masturbating himself, he looks at the door, as if he expected you come out, he grins when he looks at you, you should move away, walk back to your room but your feet fail you and you remain stiff on his slight open door.

“You’re just watching or want to help me?” he asks in a hoarse and husky voice, you chuckled nervously but decide to step in as he continues “Just watching then?” he murmurs hoarsely and strained as you sit at the edge of the bed, looking attentively to his actions, his throbbing cock dripping my underwear with pre cum as he moans softly. “I like to have you as a spectator.” his voice strained with desire.

“You’re such a tease.” he chuckles huskily and keeps his movements.

“You can always join me princess.” You slowly undress yourself and take the old panties to discharge them to the floor as your body straddles his, you feel his warm and throbbing cock slide in your folds as he introduces himself with ease, his hands gripping your hips tightly with a shaky sigh of comfort and satisfaction. “You feel so good doll” he murmurs looking up at you.

“Were you serious about being in love with me?” you asked in a strained murmur as you begin to grind on his body, his grip on you almost bruising. 

“Of course love, I’m so in love with you…” he murmurs and bites back a moan as you ride him. “You don’t have to say it back.” he murmurs, locking eyes with you. 

“I-...I’m in love with you too.” you mutter under your breath and he lets out a soft growl and pulls your body to a hug and you sigh at the feeling of his sweating and taut chest.

“I really am lovestruck.” he chuckles softly and rests himself on the bed again “I could stay like this all night with you…” he murmurs lovingly and moves his hips to meet your own movements and you moan softly.

“We can do it more than once…” you murmur hoarsely increasing the speed of the movements, a low growl escapes his mouth.

“Y-...You’re killing me princess.” he murmurs hoarsely and lustfully.

Your eyes roam at his tattoo filled arm, his disheveled state with a small smile, your voice is a low whisper.

“Koo…” your hands find their way to cup his face, your eyes full of affection. “Why did you wait so long?”

“I don’t know baby… I never thought you liked me back” he whispered softly with a strained tone.

‘Doesn’t matter now.” he nods at your murmured words and lifts you easily to turn you around, his member leaving the warmness of your folds as he pins your body in all fours against the mattress, your face tilts to the side so you’re able to breathe, his rough hands massaging your bottom, he growls at the sight and leans closer to you to press his chest and whisper softly against your skin, his mouth leaving soft and wet kisses along your spine.

“You’re still on the pill princess?” you can simply nod as a low moan escapes your lips from his hands all over your back, he lets out a soft hum and slowly introduces himself back, he thumps against you hard, loud moans escapes your mouth as his hand holds both your wrist to your back. “You like it like this princess?”.

You let out a soft “Yes” as he continues his movements, a low hum escaping his lips, his hands keeping your body pinned down to the bed. 

He exits from you and shifts his body to rest his back on the headboard as he guides you on top of his face. “Let me eat you out.” his voice is a command, you accommodate yourself in between his body, leaving your cunt on display for him, his hot breath fanning against it as he slowly tilts his head back to dart his tongue along your folds, a low moan escapes your mouth at the feeling, your hands grip his headboard as he skilfully nibs on your cunt.

You’re a breathless moaning mess as he holds you by the hips, he’s never done this to you, but you understand now why all the girls he brought over were shouting about, you feel your orgasm creep in your stomach, your legs quiver as he helps hold you in place, soon with loud moans you ride his face into an orgasm, he continues savoring you with a low growl and slowly helps you down from him, you’re disheveled and he grins smugly at the sight as he graze your cheek.

“I’m nowhere near done with you doll…” he whispers with a hoarse voice as he once again shifts you both to pin you down on the bed. 

You’re again in all fours as he rocks against your body, his warm and throbbing cock inside you, by this your moans are loud, he grabs your ass tightly against his palm, massaging the flesh with a gentle yet possessive touch, he seems unable to control himself any longer to the sound of your whines and moans as he thrust his cum into you with a guttural moan.

With care and slowly he pulls himself back from inside you, his cum dripping down from inside you until it reaches his bed and he chuckle hoarsely with a curse under his breath, he stands and pulls his underwear as he grabs a towel and helps cleaning you, you have your breathless face hidden in the bed as he helps you lie down in your back again.

“How about a shower, gorgeous.” he leans down to press a soft kiss on your temple with a small smile, you nod with a breathless chuckle.

“A needed shower.” you whisper as your eyes find him and you both burst into a hearty laughter. “That no condom thing was quite irresponsible, I don’t know where that girl’s been.”

He chuckles slightly and shifts his body to lie down beside you.

 “Only inside of me, doll.” he winks at you and you smack him playfully.

“Now I'm disgusted.” he laughs heartily and helps you up the bed to the shower, his hand around your waist as you both get to the bathroom.

As you both settle into the warm water he holds his small bunny smile as you leather your hair with shampoo.

“What’s with that smile of yours?” you ask in a soft voice and he chuckles.

“I’m just really happy.” His voice is soft and he keeps that smile you love, he gives you several small kisses along your face, his hand cupping your face.

“You still need to take me on a date.” he nods as he continues to smooch your face under the water, a soft happy giggle escaping your lips, this definitely was the happiest you’ve been.

©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[hoshifighting]

Can you pleaseeee also write staff mingyu x idol reader🥹🥹

staff!mingyu

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive. may be triggering because of; extreme diets, blackout, getting scolded by the choreographer, fingering, a bit of possessive talk, hair pulling, cock riding, devoted mingyu too.

staff!mingyu who you're in one of those tiny-ass dressing rooms with, the ones where you can barely move without smacking into a light fixture or tripping over cables, andhe's , towering over you, big frame almost making the room look even smaller. he’s your stylist-slash-PA-slash-damage-control-for-whatever-stupid-thing-you-say-in-interviews guy, which means he’s there to check every last detail on you, no matter how close he’s gotta get.

it’s day four of this overseas tour—barely halfway in, and you’re already feeling like you’re running on fumes. you’re dodging local food left and right, not ’cause it doesn’t look good, but ‘cause it’s either not on this wild diet they’ve shoved you on or it just doesn’t sit right with your stomach. for real, you didn’t think there’d be a point in your career where you'd be skipping meals, just ‘cause the food doesn’t fit some "ideal look" they cooked up for you.

and staff!mingyu... always there, at the exact moment when your stomach’s about to start an opera of complaints, hands full of grocery bags and this half-smile on his face, like he’s in on some inside joke only the two of you share.

“alright, sit down,” he says, like you’re gonna argue, and starts unloading enough ingredients to feed a small village. he moves around the hotel kitchenette—pots, pans, seasonings, a whole rotation of stuff he’s pulled outta his endless stash. he even managed to drag around a few of those little plastic spice bottles from home, ‘cause apparently, foreign supermarkets don’t stock paprika exactly how he wants it.

“didn’t know your resume included chef duties,” you joke, propping your chin on your hand as you watch him chop veggies with the same focus you’ve seen when he’s backstage, touching up your makeup or fixing your outfits.

he laughs easy. “oh, it doesn’t,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “but you looked like you were about to faint this morning, so i figured i’d make an exception.”

“what, you gonna make a whole buffet?” you tease, but the moment he sets that first plate down, you’re quiet. it’s nothing fancy, but it smells like heaven—garlic, spices, veggies mixed with something hearty, real food for the first time in days.

“look, you eat this, or i swear i’m shoving it down your throat myself,” he says, crossing his arms, and even though he’s joking, there’s this serious fringe in his eyes. like, he won’t let you get away with just picking at the food.

“alright, alright.” you dig in, taking that first bite, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed—warm, filling, like someone wrapped you in a blanket from the inside out. you’re not even halfway done, and he’s already cleaning up, telling you about how he once had to do this for himself, back when he was training and could barely afford takeout, let alone proper meals.

“so, yeah, i’ve been cooking for years,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and it hits you then, this guy, who’s supposed to be here to make sure your eyeliner doesn’t smudge, is actually going out of his way to make sure you’re not just a shell of yourself on stage.

“you know, if this whole career thing falls through, you’d make a damn good chef,” you say, and he just shakes his head, laughing.

“nah,” he says, “i think i like this job better. get to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t faint halfway through a song.”

staff!mingyu who notices everything, who noticed how you walked into the practice room that day looking like... hell, honestly. there were bags under your eyes so dark they could’ve been bruises, and your skin was that shade of pale that came from days of no sleep, maybe a crazy diet, who knows what else. mingyu was hanging out with a bunch of the other staff in the corner, narrowly paying attention at first, but then he caught sight of you—really looked at you—and yeah, it wasn’t just fatigue. he knew what he was seeing; it was that same look he’d seen too many times in trainees and idols back in the day. the look that meant you’d been pushing way too far for way too long.

by the time you got through the first set of counts, your choreographer was already on your case, his tone sharp as knives. “again,” he snapped, crossing his arms, and you could practically hear his frustration from across the room. “you’re not even hitting the moves properly. what is this?” he scoffed, giving you that disappointed stare that always made you feel about two inches tall. “do you even want to be here right now?”

mingyu’s fists clenched a little. he’d seen you pull off that choreography a hundred times before, and he knew damn well it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was that you literally didn’t have anything left in the tank, and this guy was still going in on you like you were some slacker.

but you didn’t argue back, didn’t defend yourself, nothing. just bowed your head, muttering, “i’m sorry,” in this tiny, defeated voice. mingyu could see the exhaustion written all over you, the way your shoulders slumped, how you couldn’t even lift your head all the way back up after bowing. you just stayed there, bent over in that apologetic pose, like maybe that was the last bit of strength you could pull together.

but then, as he watched, you didn’t straighten up at all. in fact, you didn’t move for a solid couple of seconds. and then, like you were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, you dropped. one second, you were still standing, and the next, your knees buckled, and you collapsed right there on the damn floor.

for a split second, no one reacted; it was like the room had frozen.

but then mingyu snapped out of it, his heart racing as he lunged forward. the rest of the staff started moving too, voices rising in panic, but mingyu was already at your side, leaning down and calling your name, voice barely hiding the worry.

“hey! hey, can you hear me?” he said, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. you were breathing, but it was shallow, and your face had gone even paler than before, if that was possible. mingyu felt this pang in his chest seeing you like that. you’d been pushing so hard that your own body just gave up on you.

someone behind him was calling for water, another person was getting the choreographer to back the hell off.

jobs in general weren’t easy, he knew that. but for mingyu, there was nothing worse than watching idols, the people he was supposed to support and protect, get wrecked like this—shoving themselves into diets, swallowing the criticism like it was part of the gig, sacrificing sleep and health just to fit into a pair of jeans or to mold into some industry standard that kept shifting.

he’d been in this job for years, and he’d seen it all before. too many nights spent watching trainees lose more weight than was healthy, idols pushing themselves until they’d practically faded away. sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it’d be worth leaving, finding a path where he didn’t have to witness it all so up close. he’d think about it on those long nights when he was running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee, wondering what the hell he was doing here when he could be somewhere else, not dealing with the cycle of pushing and breaking and then pushing even harder.

but then there was you. you, with your stubborn smile and that relentless drive he couldn’t help but admire. maybe it was that same drive that had you here, running yourself down like you’d forgotten how to stop. but mingyu had felt that pang deep in his chest at the thought of not being around you—of not being there to see you through the highs and lows, to make sure you had someone who cared about more than just your stage presence.

it was that thought, that tiny, persistent ache, that kept him rooted here every damn day. even if he had to watch you crash sometimes, even if it drained him dry just trying to keep up, he’d stay. he’d be right there, whether you knew it or not, making sure that someone in your corner would be looking out for you, whether you wanted it or needed it, or not.

staff!mingyu who’d quietly made it his side mission to keep you fed, like he’d added it to his job description without anyone even asking. it started small, maybe just a little sandwich he’d stash in his bag for you after seeing you collapse that one time. but then it became routine, almost sacred, the way he’d show up like clockwork with that lunch pack in hand, looking half like your bodyguard in his all-black staff gear, half like your own personal chef with a menu that he swore changed every time he showed up.

“mingyu, what’d you make me today?” you’d ask, bouncing into the dressing room after each performance, all amped up and practically beaming because, let’s face it, you’d come to love his little surprise meals more than you’d admit.

and mingyu, with that smug but bashful little smile, would act all nonchalant. “oh, nothing much… just a little chicken and veggie stir-fry,” he’d say, but it was always something next level—some five-star recipe he’d learned just for you. and the best part? he’d make it seem like it was nothing, just a side gig he’d taken up on the fly, when really he’d been researching recipes, planning, and even practicing to make sure it came out perfect.

he’d hand you the lunch pack like he was passing off something top secret, keeping a close eye as you took that first bite, watching for any sign you didn’t like it. but, of course, you always loved it. because mingyu wasn’t just making food—he was making damn art. you’d take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation, and he’d try to hold back that grin but always failed, shoulders relaxing like he’d just won something.

“you don’t get it, mingyu,” you’d say, mouth full but smiling like a kid on christmas. “i think you’re the reason my performance’s getting better. you’re, like, my actual secret weapon.”

and he’d laugh, pretending to brush it off, but inside? he was proud. because knowing you were hitting the stage with a full belly, with energy to burn and that spark back in your eyes—that meant everything. it was his way of giving back to you, even if you never asked for it, even if you didn’t realize how much he cared.

staff!mingyu who somehow became the world’s best photographer without ever meaning to, taking these casual, almost-too-good photos of you that drove your fans insane. you’d be walking through some cobblestone street in italy or leaning out of a coffee shop in tokyo, and he’d be there, catching that perfect shot with his phone. no fancy equipment, no staged poses—just mingyu, with his natural eye for what made you shine, snapping photos that were somehow intimate and made you look like everyone’s dream. fans called them “girlfriend pics,” and if only they knew the man behind the lens.

you had to admit it—he was stealing your heart a little more with every click. at first, you brushed it off as some harmless crush, a side effect of him being so damn good at his job. but then he’d do something small, like bring you soup when you were sick, or drape his coat over your shoulders when you got cold during a late-night rehearsal, and it’d hit you all over again. mingyu, with that goofy smile, the biggest heart, and hands that somehow felt gentle and grounding as he adjusted your hair or let you lean on him during those endless backstage waiting times.

it was easy to fall for him. too easy, really. and the way he cared? the way he was there for you, always? how could you not? he had this way of making you feel seen, like no matter how chaotic things got, he was your solid ground, always steady, always there to keep you safe and keep you going.

but, of course, staff!mingyu was a catch to more than just you. you’d see the way the other staff members watched him, the way some of them giggled and whispered, eyes lingering a little too long. and mingyu, ever the nice guy, didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t really care. he’d give his number when they asked, smile back when they flirted, just being his usual, friendly self. you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but the truth was, it was like a little ache in your chest every time.

after a show one night, you and the whole team went out to celebrate, and mingyu was right there, laughing, clinking glasses with everyone, in his element. when it got late, exhaustion finally started to settle in, and you decided to call it a night. you told everyone you were heading back to the hotel, hoping he’d maybe do the same.

but mingyu didn’t. he stayed behind, still chatting and laughing with a few of the girls from the staff, and you could feel it—that twinge of jealousy, the frustration, knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night with him, hanging on his every word, maybe more.

as you looked back one last time, watching him, it hit you like a punch in the gut. maybe to him, all this was just work—a job. you were part of that, someone he cared about, but just someone in his care. and the pang of that realization stung. maybe you weren’t so special after all.

what you were about to do wasn’t right. hell, it felt downright selfish. you sat in the bathtub, hot water swirling around you, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that told you to just let it go, that this was a bad idea. but you couldn’t shake it off—every thought twisted into a knot in your stomach. you felt almost sick, like you had this strange, heavy weight pressing down on your chest, something that felt more like heartbreak than anything else.

“god, what am i doing?” you muttered to yourself, scrubbing at your skin like it might wash away the confusion. you knew mingyu was just doing his job, that he was sweet and caring and everything you admired. but watching him flirt with those girls, knowing they’d likely take him away for the night, made you feel like you were going to hurl.

“ugh, this is so dumb,” you groaned, splashing water around, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. “why can’t i just be normal about this? it’s not like i’m his girlfriend or anything.”

but then the truth hit you again, a sharp stab of clarity amidst the chaos. you wanted to be.

after a few more minutes of spiraling, you said “fuck it,” feeling a rush of determination surge through you. you fished your phone out of your towel, thumb hovering over his name. your heart raced as you typed out the message.

“hey, mingyu. i know you’re probably busy, but i just wanted to say... i’m not feeling great. kind of sick, actually. do you think you could come by?”

you hit send, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter as you leaned back against the tub. was this too much? but then again, maybe it was time to stop hiding how you felt, to admit you needed him without a million excuses holding you back. it was either that or let him slip away for good, and you weren’t ready for that.

mingyu came in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for your text the entire time. you barely had time to wrap yourself in a towel before he was at your door, knocking frantically. “y/n! are you okay? open up!”

you opened the door, and the sight of him—hair a little messy, eyes wide with worry—made your heart race. “yeah, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered slightly. you didn’t want to come off as dramatic or needy.

he touched your forehead and you leaned into his touch without even realizing it, closing your eyes for a brief second “you don’t have a fever at all,” he said, confsed.

you pulled back abruptly, the warmth fading as reality crashed back in. clutching your towel tight around your body, you walked over to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the view outside. the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“y/n?” mingyu called, confusion clear in his voice. “what’s going on?”

you couldn’t believe you took one of his rare moments of lounge because of being selfish. mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “y/n, you were perfectly fine just a few hours ago. what’s really going on?” he asked, the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“i told you, it’s just a little... off,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. the guilt gnawed at your insides, knowing you were lying, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to come clean.

“off?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the best you can come up with? you don’t just go from fine to ‘i need my staff member to check on me’ for no reason.” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’re not actually sick, are you? what’s up?”

you shifted uncomfortably, the towel clinging to you. “seriously, mingyu, it’s nothing. maybe just a little headache or something,” you said, hoping the casual tone would brush off his concern.

he let out a huff of disbelief. “a headache? so bad that you needed me to rush in here? that doesn’t add up.” he studied you, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “just tell me the truth. are you really feeling sick, or is there something else bothering you?”

“i just thought maybe you could... keep me um... company, you know? just for a bit.”

“keep you company?” he repeated, tone incredulous. “so you fake being sick just to get me in here? you could’ve just asked! you know i’m always down to hang out.”

“mingyu—” you started.

but he cut you off, his voice firm, the playful light fading from his eyes.

“why would you do that? this isn’t some joke, y/n. my job isn’t a game. it’s serious.”

you pressed your lips together at his louder tone, the shock of it stinging more than you expected. you hadn’t meant for things to escalate this badly, and as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, it hit you like a ton of bricks: you never thought mingyu would raise his voice at you. it felt so out of place, so foreign, and your heart sank.

“hey, hey, i’m sorry,” he said, the anger melting away as he noticed your expression. he stepped closer, the care flooding back into his eyes.

you quickly wiped your eyes before the tears could fall, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “you know what? i hate it,! you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “i hate when they’re all over you, mingyu! it makes me sick to my stomach!”

his brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. “wait, what? you hate it when who’s all over me?”

“those girls! the staff!” you said, your voice rising with every word. “the way they throw themselves at you like you’re some kind of trophy. and you smile back at them, like it’s all just a joke or something. it drives me insane!”

mingyu looked stunned, blinking at you as if he were trying to process what you were saying. “y/n, are you—are you... jealous?”

“i — well— hell yeah, i’m jealous!” you shot back, frustration spilling over. “you’re so kind and caring, and they see that. they want you, and it feels like they think they can just waltz in and take you away from me. it’s infuriating!”

“but it’s just… it’s just me being friendly,” he stammered, “i’m not trying to lead anyone on. you know that, right?”

“i know, but it doesn’t change how it makes me feel,” you replied. “it’s like you’re this perfect guy, and they all want a piece of you. and here i am, just trying to keep my head above water, feeling like i have to compete for your attention.”

mingyu shook his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face despite the tension. “you don’t have to compete for anything. you’re… you’re the one who has my heart. all those girls? they’re just… coworkers.”

you pause, processing his words, and mingyu scoffs lightly, a teasing grin on his face.

“oh please, it’s true. you think i’m not bothered when i see those idols shoving their numbers on your sandwiches?”

you blink at him, completely taken aback. “wait, sandwiches? what are you talking about? i only eat the ones that you make for me.”

he interrupts you with that signature smile of his, one that always makes your heart race a little faster. “yeah, exactly. that’s ‘cause i always give those sandwiches to someone else.”

“mingyu, what the hell?”

“y/n, what the hell?” mingyu mocks, raising an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “you seriously thought you could pull this off? lying about being sick? that’s low, even for you.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance. “i wasn’t lying, i just—”

“sure, sure,” he cuts you off. “and is wearing just a towel part of your grand scheme too? because if it is, you’re gonna need to step it up a bit.”

“and what if i just want you to come over… in a towel?”

“then i’ll take that as a personal invite,” he grins, his gaze flickering to your towel before meeting your eyes again. “just know, if you’re gonna pull this kind of stunt, you better be prepared for me to take advantage of the situation.”

staff!mingyu who wastes no time, pressing forward until you’re caught between his solid frame and the cold glass, as his body pins you in place.

“you really went all out for this hm?” his fingers trailing down to the knot of your towel.

staff!mingyu who tugs the fabric free, letting it drop to the floor, leaving you fully naked. his hands spreading wide over your back, fingers firm as he turns you around to face the glass. your chest presses against the cool surface making you gasp as mingyu’s hand trails up your spine, steadying you.

staff!mingyu who grips your hips, pressing you forward, and then trails his hands up over your sides, his fingers brushing along your curves until he reaches your shoulders, leaving no part of you untouched, as though he’s marking every inch of your skin as his.

staff!mingyu who leans down, one hand sneaking around to splay across your stomach, pulling you closer to him, making you feel his hard erection on you.

staff!mingyu who lets his hand slip lower, teasing over the sensitive skin of your thigh before slipping higher, his fingers skillfully finding your pussy as he watches you through the reflection, face contorting in pleasure, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“don’t look away.” he instructs, his tone a command softened by that grin of his.

staff!mingyu who keeps one hand firm on your hip, controlling your every move as he slips his fingers inside you, “all this just because you couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else, huh?” he curls the fingers, trying to pull a response form you. “admit it,” he coaxes as he presses you harder against the glass, his fingers never relenting. “tell me you wanted this—wanted me.”

staff!mingyu who doesn’t stop until he feels you melt against him, a soft, teasing chuckle escaping as he takes in your breathless state. “next time,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “just say the word. i’ll come running.”

staff!mingyu who yanks your hair, tipping your head back to meet his lips as you twist in his grip. it’s a little clumsy, the angle throwing you off, but he holds you steady, his mouth hot and insistent on yours. you’re all melting into him, trusting the way his hands keep you secure, letting him take control as his grip on you tightens.

staff!mingyu who, somehow, maneuvers you both towards the bedd, he scoops you up with ease, laying you back as he hovers over you, he presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, caging you in as he dips down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down to your shoulder, and back up to your jaw.

staff!mingyu who takes his time, exploring every part of you with slow touches, like he’s determined to map out every reaction, to memorize every place that makes you moan.

staff!mingyu who, even in bed, is all about making sure you’re comfortable, arranging the pillows just so, adjusting the blankets if they’re too rough, whispering “is this okay?” and “tell me what you need” like he’s got all the time in the world. his hands are warm, grounding you, and he never rushes, taking the time to check in, to make sure you’re exactly where you want to be, that he’s giving you what you want, down to the smallest detail.

staff!mingyu who lets you wrap yourself around him however you want, all limbs and tangled sheets, whispering soft reassurances in your ear as his hands trace your back, making sure you feel safe. he’s patient, careful, coaxing you with soft, murmured words, taking his time until you’re both lost in it, every sensation heightened.

staff!mingyu who surprises you by pulling back, catching his breath, and suddenly flipping the roles—guiding your hands to explore him, encouraging you to take control. “i’m yours too, you know,” he murmurs, watching you with that familiar smile, the one that’s equal parts playful and sincere, as he lets you explore, giving you the chance to take the lead.

staff!mingyu who’s all breathless and desperate under you from the moment you take the lead FORREAL and ride him, his hands gripping your hips, trying to guide you even when he’s struggling to keep up. soft, wet sounds filling the room as you roll your hips in slow circles, making him whine. his head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, but you bring a hand to his cheek, making him look up at you.

“tell me,” you murmur, lips brushing just against his ear, “tell me you’re mine, mingyu. that none of these hoes matter.” he looks up, his eyes hazy but still so focused on you, like he’s trying to pour everything into that gaze.

“i’m yours—yours, only yours,” he chokes out, his voice rough and pleading, like he needs you to believe it. he’s babbling now, his grip tightening on you, thumbs pressing into your skin, anchoring himself as you move, each drag pulling another whimper from his lips. “none of them—none of them mean anything,” he gasps, desperate, brows knitted together. “just you. only want you.”

staff!mingyu who’s practically begging at this point, his hands sliding up to your waist, trying to pull you down, closer, as if he could somehow get more of you. “please.” he whispers, his eyes filled with so much want it makes your heart pound.

“you’re mine, mingyu. no one else. got it?” and the way he shudders, that choked, relieved sound he lets out, is everything. he nods frantically, hands gripping you tighter as he starts to lose control, bucking up into you.

staff!mingyu who’s wholly ruined beneath you, lost in every kiss, every whispered word, clutching onto you as if he’s scared you might sneak off, even when you’re right there, telling him over and over again—“all mine.”