coley_merrin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coley_merrin) wrote2014-12-01 02:05 pm
coley_merrin) wrote2014-12-01 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic] Regression
Title: Regression
Pairing: Henry/Donghae, Zhou Mi/Sungmin, Leeteuk/Zhou Mi, Changmin/Zhou Mi, Victoria/Zhou Mi, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Yesung/Siwon, Donghae/Zhou Mi, Yesung/Zhou Mi, Yesung/Ryeowook, Heechul/Zhou Mi, gen
Rating: up to NC-17
Genre: smut, fluff, romance, AU
Summary: Twenty-six random prompts from ask.fm/coleymerrin
***
Prompt: henhae pacific rim au? :)
***
No one saw the videos of kaiju destroying cities, demolishing bridges, places of safety being dissolved, without caring. Donghae hadn’t lost any family, hadn’t seen a kaiju in person before stepping out of the plane on the cliff side and watching with something close to awe as the jaeger was dropped into the bay, the kaiju’s mouth like blue-burning flame. Even from there, even that far away, they could feel the rumbles, hear the shrieks. Seeing it like that, it wasn’t some scary video sending people running from what looked like an imaginary beast.
It was real.
***
The Shatterdome was a cavern, but the Drift was an oasis. In some ways it amplified his fear and disgust and in some ways it destroyed it, letting his mind empty for the neural handshake. Donghae had almost gotten caught once, letting a memory steal him, and he’s learned form that, focused it. He looked tot he side, saw Henry looking back, and together they nodded. They needed no words, as secure in the jaeger as they were anywhere. They were in sync, the giant beast that moved with them like some well-tuned car. For a moment, it was easy to feel invincible, and he felt Henry’s laughter. They’d fought, six times over a succession of weeks as their compatibility was tested. The Marshall said they were too immature to be Rangers, but their dedication in the combat sessions was too much to ignore. They fought each other to test compatibility but they truly fought for knowledge of how to beat the next beast. When the alarm sounded, when they would be tightened into their suits and locked into place. No one knew how it felt, if they hadn’t been there themselves. Maybe they wanted it, maybe they dreamed about it, but it wasn’t the same.
***
The screams and roars of the kaiju, Grapple, had rumbled through them, skittering along nerves as the impacts had shaken and thrown them. They felt invincible and were so vulnerable, and he’d really only felt it when the kaiju had bitten into the jaeger’s left arm and he heard Henry’s shouts in his ears, in his head.
It took cannon blasts to level the kaiju, until they’d been limp and wrung out, waiting for transport.
He still heard the screams.
The water pounding against the back of his neck as an attempt to drown it out, finally in the safety of the Shatterdome. He didn’t want to think, even though he knew they’d be talked to, that the battle would be dissected to see how to improve. The tempered glass door shuddered as it opened, and Donghae looked up, ready to snarl.
All that came out as Henry stepped into the shower with him was, “Do you mind?”
“Yeah, I do,” Henry said.
He didn’t try to move Donghae, didn’t try and talk. His hands squeezed on Donghae’s shoulders, his forehead a steady presence against Donghae’s. They couldn’t hear each other, not like that, but he listened to Henry breathe, and the sound of the water, and let his mind quiet like they were in the Drift.
***
Prompt: Can I ask for another fluff piece where Mi is teaching SJM cheesy lines in Chinese? Almost driving the ever patient teacher to near insanity? Thanks a ton <3
***
It was like trying to wrangle cats, in all honesty. Or maybe ducklings that had a tendency to scatter when approached. When Zhou Mi thought he was in control, he had that illusion quickly scattered when there was a joke by Donghae that sent everyone up in laughter, or when Henry “helped” by repeating what Zhou Mi had just said and trying to imitate him.
“I don’t sound like that!” Zhou Mi protested, and got several disbelieving stares.
Of course a well-meaning direction with how much this would mean to the fans usually got them back on track again. Ryeowook chirped back phrases like a baby bird, Kyuhyun squinting hard and using all his might to try and get the tones right. Donghae. Donghae also tried.
And then Kyuhyun poke them and derailed them from learning how to that everyone was so cute and sweet, they were lucky to have them as fans.
“Okay!” Zhou Mi said, clapping his hands and having flashbacks to one of his first teachers. He’d been six.
“Can we ask them on a date?”
“No.”
“Will you marry me~” Kyuhyun warbled, as Hyukjae held out a hand like he was holding flowers.
Zhou Mi put his head down on the table for all of three seconds, because any longer than that wasn’t safe. Not with them around.
***
Prompt: i have had a rough last few days. can you write me some mimin genderswap (gxg) high school au?
***
She was the cute older girl that almost everyone loved, and that was how she was presented to Zhou Mi. There were the girls in the corner that gave her the evil eye and the guys who declared she was beneath them (but in reality was too good for them, and they knew it).
“Is there anything you can’t do?” Zhou Mi asked, watching Sungmin fold an incredibly complex origami elephant. Zhou Mi was fairly sure if she’s tried that she would have ended up with something that looked more like a badger, if not a giant wadded-up ball of paper.
“Well, yeah,” Sungmin said, and there was something weird about that, until she looked up all fierce and bopped Zhou Mi’s nose with the elephant’s trunk. It tickled. “Don’t listen to what they say about me.”
Zhou Mi grinned, pleased as she stretched out her arms a little further along the table and rested her head on them. “I don’t. I just know.”
And she shrieked as Sungmin goosed her.
***
There was something warm about Sungmin, something inviting, even when she was being serious. And she was serious. She wasn’t just walking cuteness, oozing charm. Though sometimes there was a glitter that she got when Zhou Mi wore heels because Zhou Mi found that cute even as she attempted not to trip over door stops. Zhou Mi preened because of the attention, but sometimes she wished she was more like Sungmin, softer. She took Sungmin with her when she got another piercing in her ears, and Sungmin draped herself over Zhou Mi’s back when she was tired. Sungmin’s lips twitched when Zhou Mi said a word wrong, laughing when Zhou Mi huffed at her. That sparkle became a shine in the most beautiful way. If Zhou Mi hadn’t already been Sungmin’s friend it would have pained her to look Sungmin’s way, afraid she’d be spotted, hoping she would be.
“Let’s go see a movie instead of studying,” Sungmin said, and several pieces of Zhou Mi’s heart agreed. They shared popcorn, lingering in the cool of the theater until they couldn’t, whispering about the movie and emerging grudgingly into the oppressive humidity.
It was like a date but it wasn’t, and Zhou Mi’s heart was light anyway, walking with excitement until Sungmin complained that she was walking too fast. She opened her mouth to prod that Sungmin should walk faster, but she turned around instead.
“Thank you,” Zhou Mi said, and the hug she gave was enveloping, the kind of hug she couldn’t help herself giving.
“For what?”
She didn’t know. Being her friend. Accepting her when she’d been new and strange.
“Everything,” she warbled instead, wriggling as Sungmin poked into her back. And her breath hitched as her shoulders met the cool of the brick building, laughing as Sungmin leaned up as though to whisper a secret.
A secret brushed against Zhou Mi’s lips.
It felt like her brain and her heart puffed out like a dandelion, frozen there with Sungmin’s lips on hers. But then she touched Sungmin’s hair, her neck. She didn’t ask Sungmin why. She didn’t have to.
***
Prompt: Could you write SuJu (and Minho) being all into the World Cup and incredulous that Zhou Mi doesn't care because China's not in it? Feeling the event, but poor SK needs some miracles to get out of group ugh
***
“My country isn’t in it,” he said, and there were a lot of incredulous stares that Zhou Mi met.
“But we’re your adopted country!” Minho declared.
“Are you?” Zhou Mi asked, lips twitching.
“But there are other countries you can care about too,” Hyukjae declared, like it was sacred, or like he wouldn’t throw any country that wasn’t South Korea under the bus at a moment’s notice. “You can just pick one.”
“Just pick one,” Zhou Mi repeated, and got scowled at.
He could just pick one. He could pick one based on uniform design, or because he liked a certain face, or maybe because they seemed destined to win and sometimes it was fun to cheer for someone who would.
Maybe it would’ve helped if he’d had a whole lot of interest in the sport to start with, but he wasn’t going to explain getting hit with the ball or falling over it when he was younger. They would probably have dragged him out to the first grassy patch and tried to indoctrinate him.
Though sometimes he feigned disinterest because it was fun to goad them. Their excitement was infections if he happened to be int he room, laughing at the TV. They’d see who won, in the end. He couldn’t pretend it wouldn’t be interesting getting there.
***
Prompt: angsty sj bandfic but kinda mi-centric, from kyu's pov? (omg hope this isnt too confusing ;A;) Kyu sense that Mi and him, and Mi/SJ isnt as close as before n he pondered why; also he gets to ask to Mi himself one day but gets vague answers... Thanks ><
***
At first, he thought it was just because they didn’t see everyone as much. There was a quiet reserve that sort of gave him a pinch in his belly, but then again sometimes it went away like nothing changed, nothing happened. Asking Zhou Mi about it was trying to get an answer from the Sphinx because he just averted his eyes or changed the subject. Really subtle, sometimes, not so much other times.
“Does Zhou Mi come over and hang out?” Kyuhyun asked.
“Oh yeah, sometimes,” Donghae said, fiddling with his phone.
“Yeah? How long ago?”
Donghae looked up glazed eyes which told Kyuhyun just about everything A long time ago, apparently.
Zhou Mi didn’t joke at him quite as much, like he was worried about Kyuhyun’s reaction, or— Or maybe he didn’t know what to joke about, which was worse.
More or less it was up to him, then. He wasn’t going to give it up, or let it slide, or anything like that. He knew better. He was the one who texted Zhou Mi daily, and the one who dragged him out for food, and the one who sat outside his building util Zhou Mi came down rather bemused so Kyuhyun could drag him back to watch a movie with everyone. Sometimes he looked at Zhou Mi and felt so much pride he just sort of puffed up inside, and he wondered if Zhou Mi knew. One day, he was going to have to tell him.
***
Prompt: Thanks for writing that Qmi in Taiwan fluff. May I request something with Leeteuk x Zhou Mi this time? Anything is fine. Thanks so much <3
***
“Happy birthday,” was probably the first thing most people said to him that day, but Zhou Mi decided to be different. He’d got a gift of course, a couple of shirts he’d actually been saving for the occasion.
Instead, Zhou Mi walked up to Leeteuk with a hug and a shiny wrapped box and said, “Leader.”
The inhale told him everything.
Zhou Mi remember one time, maybe it was months or years, it was hard to tell. There’d been upheaval, anger, too many eyes directed at the intent wondering what fans were thinking, saying, what they wanted or thought they wanted. When Leeteuk had pulled him aside, Zhou Mi had been immersed in determination.
“I’ve told the others this already,” Leeteuk said. “It doesn’t matter who is or isn’t leader or who is named later, I’m here for you, too.”
Even if maybe they couldn’t say it yet, and maybe they had to find a way to make inclusion a reality…? It had meant something then. It had been an out, an ear offered, someone willing to stand up for him even within what they knew.
So it made him smile, all that time later, to be able to give that back.
***
Prompt: Weird prompt sorry :/ Changmin tries to get closer to oblivious Zhou Mi because whenever ChangKyuToria hang out Mi is all Kyu and Vic talk about and Changmin is kind of jealous/feeling left out? Then Kyu and Vic catch on and apologise/become bff-y again, but Mi and Changmin do end up friends too? ~♥
***
They had so many stories and in jokes, Kyuhyun chortling about something Zhou Mi had said while Victoria rolled her eyes with obvious affection. It wasn’t like Changmin didn’t know Zhou Mi, though he just didn’t spend as much time with him as they did. It was like hearing about a stranger almost, someone shared only between them that made Changmin laugh because he thought he should and not because he knew why.
He wasn’t sure who he got Zhou Mi’s number from, exchanging a number of polite and ridiculous text messages. His offer to get together went right over Zhou Mi’s head it seemed, since he agreed enthusiastically - for some unknown future time. It took at least twice doing that before they actually set up a time. He was going to have stories, too,that way, almost jumping when Zhou Mi called his name and smiled.
“Kyuhyun and Victoria talk about you a lot.”
He didn’t expect Zhou Mi to be embarrassed by it, vaguely pleased and affectionate. At least he knew more about who Zhou Mi talked about, trying to drag Kyuhyun away from his keyboard, laughing at Victoria’s stumbles. What they both knew was a bridge together, talking about other things, themselves, concerts, song, travels.
But the last thing he expected when he met up for dinner with the others that Kyuhyun traded a look with Victoria.
“Do we talk about Zhou Mi too much?” Kyuhyun asked.
Changmin blinked at them.
“Zhou Mi said you brought up that you heard about him from us,” Victoria told him. “I guess we were just realizing…?”
Changmin wanted to laugh, because they were oblivious and cute about it. “It’s all right. I’m going to catch a movie with Zhou Mi soon, so.”
Something good had come out of it. And if they were free, they both knew they would be welcome to join them.
***
Prompt: where SJM is cast as toothpaste CF models and Mi is the lead cast (the casting director was.... dazzled? by him :P) and how everyone ask him for "smiling advice"? xD (inspired by cutiepie Mimimi's recent weibo update kekeke. thanks coleycoley!)
***
They weren’t really sure how to audition a smile, but they could 100% say they were not surprised when Zhou Mi got singled out by the director. There were murmurs among them, not really knowing how he did it, not knowing how he went from looking vaguely grumpy to radiating sunbeams. Whatever it was, it worked, the director making sweeping motions with his hands as he showed Zhou Mi a gleaming oversized tube of toothpaste which was the product they’d be promoting. Apparently he was going to carry it around like some kind of weird clutch, lifting it and beaming out his most dazzling smile.
“How do you smile to get picked like that,” Hyukjae asked, cornering him with the others not far behind.
“Think of something happy?” Zhou Mi said. “Or..I don’t actually think sometimes, it just happens. Donghae has a great smile, too!”
Everyone else was a little miffed at not being called out first, and Donghae was puzzled and delighted.
“Right, but he looks like the neighbor’s puppy smiling,” Hyukjae said, dismissing that out of hand. Siwon looked like he was trying to be cool, Ryeowook looked like someone wanted to give him a pinch, and Kyuhyun looked too… Kyuhyun.
“Cheeky?” Zhou Mi wondered, stepping up for him.
“No,” Hyukjae said, and got beat on by pillows. There was only so many pointers Zhou Mi could give, because he thought their smiles were nice anyway. He had his favorites, not that he was going to tell them that. Sometimes seeing a smile just made him happy, so it was easy to give one.
Though he tried to arrange Kyuhyun’s face once, Kyuhyun getting stuck in some unnatural smile while trying to practice at a window.
“Smile like yourself, because that what looks best,” Zhou Mi said. And ah, the smile he got then, that was a real one.
***
Prompt: Prompt: Victoria seducing Zhou Mi while wearing the bobbed wig she has in the Red Light concept photos. smut
***
It changed the angles of her face at first glance, the heavy bangs and hair that angled down along her jaw. But it didn’t change her face. She wore makeup, a little, but not like she wore for the shoots. It enhanced, but she was still Victoria, still Song Qian as she stroked her hands up his bare arms and nibbled against his mouth. Her heels brought her up just to the right height as he curved his hands at her waist and kissed her. All he knew that her breasts were pressed against his chest, her hands teasing, mouth soft against his and hips shifting against his suddenly-interested cock.
“What—“ he started, and his eyes went wide as she kissed up his neck.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Well. A while was one way of putting it. But she— She didn’t say it was just to get him laid, or because she needed to get off, or wanted a body to hold, to kiss, to feel against her. He was hard because of her kisses, because of her rocking hips, because of the looks she sent him from under those straight bangs that urged him to want what he had certainly never expected. It wasn’t sweet or slow, no debate, just kisses he moaned into, stroking over her back, cupping her ass and rocking against her, cupping her face and making her moan.
She was the one who had the condom, who had him breathless, his pants opened as they kissed. He didn’t know how she did it, how she thought, when all he could think of was the ache.
Her arms went around his neck, her leg lifting up high until he could under it, hook under both of them and hitch her up until they were kissing, filthy, braced against a different wall than the one they’d started against. And that was when she let him in, holding him right where she wanted him.
She was so wet around him, moaning, tilting her head as he slid into her. When he’d settled in her, deep as he could go, her lips curved.
“Glad not ever part of you is as skinny as you used to be.” And she gasped, as he pulled out an inch and slid back in. “Oh. Very glad.”
He’d changed from back then, bus so had she. They’d grown up, grown together, grown to the point where he had caught up against him, thrusting into her and caught in moans of his own as she squeezed around him, pulled at him.
“How—“
“Dance,” she panted, gripping the back of his shirt hard and trying to wiggled him deeper with each movement. Or he thought that was what she said. He was too busy lifting his hips and grinding agains her, feeling her clutch around him, her legs tense and mouth parted. He did what felt best to him, tweaked it so that she moaned and that middle ground pleased them both. He didn’t know what had driven her, but it was want that he felt from her as he kissed her throat, taking him every bit as much as he was taking her. That she could do that amazed him, the way she undulated, the way she moved him, squeezed so tight around him.
The way she enjoyed him
“Zhou Mi. Zhou Mi. Oh, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
Only if he’d had to, only if she’d asked could he have as he fought his body’s desire to come because she needed him to focus just a little longer on her. His body was crying for it, shuddering as he thrust into her, rubbed against her. Her little throaty sounds shot straight through him, gasping through clenched teeth as they raged together. She was so tight around him, tighter, and he could barely breathe, begging her, urging her with whimpers and clenching fists. He knew when she came, even before she pushed against the wall, before she started clamping around him. It was the look on her face, pleasure and glory, and his breath was sobbing out of him as he pinned her tight and fucked her through her orgasm, knees trembling as he braced them both against the wall and came in her. His forehead thumped against the wall, chest heaving and body throbbing.
“Oh, good,” she almost whimpered, and it made him laugh, hissing as he pulled out of her and let down her legs.
Oh good, yes.
The wig was who knew where, and he stroked the soft hair that had fallen over her shoulder.
“I’d stay the night, but someone would probably notice if I didn’t go out again,” she said.
It might’ve been nice to cuddle all night in bed. But the hour he got of her pressed up against him on the couch had been worth it, trading sly glances with her as they looked over several magazines he had brought.
“Song Qian,” he said when he hugged her goodbye. He thought that said everything.
***
Prompt: SJM (namely KyuWook) fights over who gets to sit next to Mi on the plane so they could use him as a body pillow? Thanks Coley!
***
Even in the nicer easts, maybe even especially, it was nice to sit next to someone who wasn’t afraid of touching. It wasn’t like each of them could get a side, either, since there were only two seats per side of the plane, nice and roomy, ways to stretch out that they very much appreciated. Donghae had stolen away with Hyukjae, and Siwon had claimed Sungmin. It left Henry on one side, and Zhou Mi on the other. Zhou Mi was ignoring them, but Henry was watching them like they were particularly interesting fish, plus he got the pleasure of tormenting whoever lost.
Zhou Mi wasn’t afraid of spooning while sleeping and Henry had only hopefully showered.
Kyuhyun threw down scissors. And he was met with scissors. Ryeowook scowled.
Rock. Both of them.
Scissors again.
Paper.
“You got to when we flew back,” Ryeowook said, like it would in any way influence Kyuhyun’s decision.
“Different trip,” was Kyuhyun’s decisive answer.
“Do I get a say?” Henry asked.
“No,” they chorused, without even turning.
Scissors. Scissors. Rock.
Ryeowook put up scissors. Kyuhyun stayed with rock, and lifted his fists in the air like he’d just won a wrestling match, cringing into himself and bowing as a flight attendant needed to get past. And Kyuhyun took his place next to Zhou Mi before Ryeowook could think about stealing it and making it impossible to get him out without actually hauling him out bodily and causing a scene.
Zhou Mi’s look to him might have been a bit pitying, but Kyuhyun didn’t care, because he’d won. They’d start all over on the way back.
***
Prompt: Members find it weird how Mi is suddenly so close to so many KPOP idol groups through ITC? Thank you :D
***
They were always trying to peek at his phone which Zhou Mi found particularly hilarious. He’d started naming people weird things only he could know - once he figured out Kyuhyun was looking up different characters to see if he could figure out who was who.
“Do you talk to all of them?”
“Well,” Zhou Mi said, and didn’t manage to avoid it as Hyukjae followed him into the kitchen. “Not all of them. I didn’t ask for all their numbers.”
“But you said someone was cute. Do you talk to them?”
He wasn’t going to tease Hyukjae about clearly watching especially when Ryeowook was peering at him and Donghae was listening from the table.
“Did you see him at the concert? He was getting mobbed!”
“It’s like he’s a celebrity or something,” Kyuhyun intoned while walking past, and ducking out of the way as Hyukjae swatted at his head.
“He had more people dashing for him than Ryeowook.”
Ryeowook blinked, a grin spreading across his face. “Did they tackle him?”
“You were standing there, too!”
“I had my own mob to deal with,” Ryeowook said, sniffing like he was offended even as he caught Zhou Mi’s eye and tried not to laugh.
***
Prompt: hi, may i request for a short eunhae fic? here's the scenario: eunhae just sleeping on the same bed. no kissing, no sex, no words. Just the sound of their relaxed breaths and just the slight touch of their hands, feeling so warm and safe sleeping next to each other. Thanks! (◕‿◕✿)
***
The air itself was cool, which was something to be thankful for, and the blanket had that feeling of being stretched, a little movement as they settled, adjusted into the mattress. They made twin dents on the pillows, necks at different angles and settled in the dark. There was only a sigh as Donghae reached, his fingers sliding over the back of Hyukjae’s hand, sliding over his wrist and down again. Their fingers settled together, a few of his knuckles over Hyukjae’s, feeling the twitch of skin as they settled together there as well.
It wasn’t just to know Hyukjae was there, because he could feel the depression in the mattress, could feel him breathe deep and slow. It wasn’t even like a child ending comfort. But it was a connection, like he could feel a little golden glow between their skin, knowing if he needed he could burrow against Hyukjae’s body and find safety. He had safety there, the blanket radiating perfect warmth back at him and Hyukjae close.
They could have been on a bed three times as big, he thought, and they still would have ended up like that. Because nothing felt as right as having Hyukjae beside him.
***
Prompt: top!kyuhyun/siwon with fierce yesung. smut please. smut
***
It wasn’t hard to yank a shirt out of a waistband, not when Siwon went pliant from kisses, his fingers reaching for Jongwoon’s hips and trying to hold as sought more of Jongwoon’s mouth. They both moaned when he got Siwon’s pants open, shoving at them, baring him, grinding up against him as his pants fell and Siwon gripped him tight.
At some point what Siwon gave was soft, steady, suave.
Jongwoon aimed to push him past that, nipping at Siwon’s lip as he pulled Siwon on top of him. He widened his thighs, rolled his hips, and ate up each of Siwon’s moans as they stacked heat onto heat. Jongwoon shuddered at the press of Siwon’s fingers, curling his tongue around Siwon’s and moaning at the curl, the slide of those long fingers inside him, until he couldn’t stand it any more.
“Fuck me,” he rasped, and his thighs went wide, wider when Siwon grunted and pressed into him.
That. That was what he wanted. Lying back with his fingers digging into Siwon’s shoulders and all he could hear was the slap of flesh and moans and gasping breaths. He jerked himself off watching the desperate pleasure on Siwon’s sweaty face.
And when he came - when he arched, when he bit to moans and gripped Siwon’s shoulders - he was almost too far gone to be pleased when Siwon groaned for him and followed.
Almost.
***
Prompt: Hi you don't know who this is. MiHae. will accept EunHaeMi. MiHae should be a thing though.
***
There was a way Donghae had of sitting himself into Zhou Mi’s lap that made him impossible to turn away. It was and wasn’t like a cat, the way Donghae looped his arms around Zhou Mi’s neck, the way he nuzzled in for a kiss and waited for Zhou Mi to hitch him closer. He did, his hands spreading on Donghae’s thighs and humming against his mouth. What they’d been thinking about for dinner was momentarily forgotten, the little twitches of Donghae’s hips driving him to distraction until Donghae threw his head back and laughed at the sounds Zhou Mi made.
“What?” Zhou Mi asked, pouting and stroking up Donghae’s back. He didn’t think Donghae would make out with him just to get his way with food but it wasn’t like he needed to when Donghae went all innocent eyed on him.
“What do you want more, food or…?”
“Both. Both would be good,” Zhou Mi said. He reached for a brochure, bopping it against Donghae’s nose. “Pick what you want, and I’ll pay.”
Donghae stayed in Zhou Mi’s lap while he picked. It was a good way of getting what he wanted, too, since they liked about the same thing.
In food, and other things.
***
Prompt: "There will always be that silver line between us." angst, bandfic, Zhou Mi/SJ? thanks <3 (and sorry orz I'm the anon who almost always requests angst ;A;)
***
It wasn’t a gulf, a canyon, a trench. There was not an echo between one side or the other, the need to shout or gesture. It was always different, just a little. They were, and yet they weren’t. They walked down the same path, stood on the same stage, and yet the line, that ugly demarcation, stayed. It had faded, at times, until it was tarnished and nearly indistinguishable. It was better than it had been, when it had been bright and new and sharp, like a blade. Some had said it was a protection, a way to keep them from angering anyone. But the protection had been a lie, and the line had cut deeper than they had realized.
It still glowed brighter, like a promise of what it had been when concert pictures emerged and it was as though they didn’t exist. They were other, different. No matter how successful, how included, no matter how much joy they wrought. Maybe not to everyone. No. Some didn’t see the line, or pretended it wasn’t there, and in times like those he envied them. He wished he couldn’t see it, even while knowing that he wore armor in case, one day, it would inevitably hurt him again. Not as deep as the first, never that deep. But he bore the scars, and he used them as strength.
***
Prompt: Yesung x Mi fluff please? Maybe over how much Jongjin fanboys over Mi？ Thank you ＼(^o^)／
***
His brother was a strange person, and he’d known that from the time he was born. And as soon as he said that, Zhou Mi laughed, bumping his shoulder into Jongwoon’s and just chortling away. Sure, he could talk, like he had a brother.
“I have cousins. Believe me, I understand,” Zhou Mi said, his eyes twinkling.
“Do you know how big a fan he is of you?” Jongwoon wanted to know. It was cute, but a little weird, like he actually hauled his laptop out to show Zhou Mi’s performances to their parents. They were interested, too, of course but Jongjin reacted like he was Zhou Mi’s manager or something. Sometimes he stared at Jongwoon and said, really creepily too, that he should do a duet with Zhou Mi.
“He’s cute,” Zhou Mi said, and completely missed the point.
“Maybe he’d like to have you for a brother instead,” Jongwoon complained.
It was with utter loyalty that Zhou Mi said, “Never.”
And Jongwoon mostly believed it. Jongjin was weird, but he’d been his shadow forever and he didn’t think either of them would change that.
Maybe they were supposed to sing a song together. Zhou Mi just looked curious and clueless when Jongwoon squinted at him. Maybe.
***
Prompt: where zhou mi /despairs/ at SJM's (including Henry's) regression of Chinese language skills, and makes it harder for them during next recording session? like they didnt know Mi was even upset with their chinese skills ~until~ they enter the studio? tq! :)
***
Some of them talked better than others, but he could pretty much see their ability leaking out of their ears. If eh couldn’t hear it, they couldn’t speak it, then he didn’t know how they were going to sing it. And he’d tried really hard to make things simple so they could learn it, so they wouldn’t garble it, so that people wouldn’t make fun of them when they sounded like they were singing nonsense instead of words.
He could actually see their faces start to melt when they listened to his demo, the way their eyes went wide as they stared at the lyrics. They tried to mouth along and the lyrics went streaming by and Zhou Mi sat, smug as the panic started to sink in.
“How—“
“What is this?”
“What did you do?”
He was really, really trying not to laugh when he said, “You’ve been neglecting studying. This isn’t that hard.”
Kyuhyun made some kind of a cawing sound, and Henry was turning the lyrics around like he wasn’t sure which side was right.
“We can’t!”
“You might have to record a hundred and fifty times, but you can.”
“Why didn’t you nag at us instead,” Sungmin muttered.
Zhou Mi lifted his chin. “Do you promise to study hard?”
He got identical promises, some of which he knew would be kept.
And then he passed out a new paper, and turned on the real demo. A little simpler, though not by a whole lot. Maybe they thought they’d been duped, but he was still going to hold them to it.
***
Prompt: Everyone in SJ making a fuss that Mi was the one who got chosen to be on the next season of WGM? Maybe with Teuk/Hee/Kangin/Kyu giving advice? Thanks very much :)
***
The first reaction was a lot of silence, which was mostly just trying to process from what Zhou Mi could tell. There were the ones who wanted to be on the show instead (Hyukjae) and the ones grateful they weren’t chosen (Ryeowook). It was as loud as any announcement ever and Zhou Mi felt like he was in the middle of some whirlpool that they certainly had no control of.
“Is it the international one? Are you going to have a Korean girl? Wait, how is it going to—“
“How many shows are you going to do at once?”
“I wonder if she’ll be cute.”
All the important questions.
“Don’t give her too much attention,” Kyuhyun offered, which gained him a sound round of thumping from everyone within striking distance.
“Get to know her. Maybe they’ll give you someone you can’t talk to,” Heechul said.
Youngwoon had the best offer, “Be her friend. Then it’ll be a lot more fun.”
Their leader had admonitions. Nothing too risqué. Uphold the name! Have fun.
Then the realizations that hey, he was going to be on a show. Who was going to get to be his guests? Zhou Mi sat back and prepared for them to tell him why.
***
Prompt: yewook knotting pls 8D and comeplay? THE DIRTIER THE BETTER HAHAHAHA /not even ashamed and size kink smut
***
If Ryeowook was going to have a knot, he wasn’t going to have a small one. It defeated the purpose of getting filled up and coming with a knot in him if he couldn’t distinguish it from the average toy. There had been any number of alphas that made his cock hard when he got near them, some kind of magnetism about them, but Jongwoon was different. He didn’t just get to spend time around Jongwoon and feel normal, and it didn’t matter what state his hormones were in. He spent most of the time around Jongwoon with his cock tucked up so he didn’t walk around visibly aroused. It could be smelled, no doubt, but the arousal could have been toward anyone - he was an omega, it happened. Though he wondered how many times he could spent a night staring at Jongwoon’s crotch while sending out obvious waves of arousal without Jongwoon catching on. It wasn’t any of the alphas there that got to him, no, just Jongwoon that he wanted to go up to and rub against his leg and beg to be put on his knees so he could worship Jongwoon’s cock in every possible way.
He wasn’t sure what made that night different. His own desperation, the fact that Jongwoon smelled like he was ready to be eaten up or eat someone else up. And Ryeowook wanted it to be him. It was easy to skirt the others, find a way to get closer to Jongwoon in the bar where they’d all gathered. He didn’t just have to sit back and look, having a good time despite wanting desperately. He must have made a sound, nearly close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Jongwoon’s shoulder, because Jongwoon’s head turned, meeting his eyes. His knees locked, his cock pulsing, and he watched Jongwoon inhale, eyes going wider as he abandoned his conversation and turned fully to Ryeowook.
“Kim Ryeowook,” Jongwoon said, and it wasn’t as though they were strangers, Ryeowook angling back his head as though to ask why he was saying his name. Maybe just as a thoughtful thing, an omega putting off very distinctive signs of want. And he proved it by not backing off when Jongwoon stepped right up to him until they were hip against hip, their faces close. They could smell each other, Ryeowook got alpha and man and growing arousal. It took only a little bump forward on Jongwoon’s part to to end the pretend distance between them. His hips moved out of his control, and Jongwoon’s surprised little moan undid him.
“You smell good,” Jongwoon said.
Ryeowook groaned, his hips humping desperately against Jongwoon as his vision blurred, too overcome by Jongwoon’s scent and the feel of his cock through his pants. It was big. He’d known it would be. He knew—
“If you don’t want this all the way,” Jongwoon said, trying to push at Ryeowook’s hips as though to help him keep his senses.
“Please, I want you,” Ryeowook said, waited for Jongwoon to look at him, really look at him, and see. And he parted his lips as Jongwoon kissed him, moaning and meeting his tongue and all but melting against him, grabbing Jongwoon’s hips so he could keep rubbing against Jongwoon’s cock.
“Get a room, you two,” someone said from nearby and Ryeowook moaned in protest of having to let go long enough to. But Jongwoon had one hand cupped on Ryeowook’s neck, and one gripping his ass, and the way he smirked did terrible things to Ryeowook’s cock.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to,” Jongwoon said, though it was very much more said for Ryeowook’s benefit than anyone else’s.
It was the elevator ride that was the worst, worse than checking in to the room, or the walk to it. In the elevator, he had tucked himself under Jongwoon’s arm, smelling against his shirt and staring down at the front of his pants where he could see what he wanted. If he’d had x-ray vision, he could’ve seen Jongwoon’s cock straining against the cloth, but as it was all he could do was imagine and try to hold himself back from pushing Jongwoon back against the elevator wall and having at him.
But the elevator dinged and opened before he could put that thought into motion.
The room itself, not far down the hallway, was plain but functional. There were chairs, one wide bed. On the dresser, a number of lubricants offered for sale, though Ryeowook scoffed at that. As though they would need it, the way he was going to soak through his pants if he was in them much longer.
Jongwoon kissed him, and Ryeowook hummed against his mouth, having varying success as he tugged at the buttons down Jongwoon’s shirt. He didn’t want to just rip it, but on the other hand, the lazier Jongwoon’s kiss got, the more he kind of did.
“Jongwoon.”
He wanted his hands on skin, a lot of it, though none more than the cock he was rocking against.
“I’ll get this,” Jongwoon said, and proved it, starting in on the buttons and leaving Ryeowook’s hands open for other things. Like dropping down onto his knees rubbing his palm against Jongwoon’s cock. All he had was a button, a zipper, and a bit of tugging cloth down, and he was had what he wanted. Jongwoon’s cock had had him impressed just rubbing against him through their pants, but the sight of it, thick and heavy and hard, had him gasping. He wanted to put his mouth on it, so he did, parting his lips over the dark-flushed head and lathing it with his tongue. Pre-come, the tang of it, has his cock throbbing, squirming on his knees as he tried to fit more of Jongwoon’s cock into his mouth. He cursed his straining jaw, wrapping his hands around what he could not take, and moaned as he sucked and inhaled the scent of an alpha. He listened to Jongwoon’s little groans and felt himself dripping. He wanted Jongwoon’s come, wanted to taste it, wanted to feel it all over himself. But most of all, he wanted it inside of himself.
Seeing how little of Jongwoon’s cock he’d been able to wet with his mouth made him dizzy, and he stood, stepping out of his pants and underwear, throwing off his shirt, bare and waiting for Jongwoon to decide what he wanted. If he wanted to fuck Ryeowook’s mouth, fine. If he wanted his ass, Ryeowook was slick and ready.
“How do you want to come?” Jongwoon asked, reaching out and sliding a fingertip up Ryeowook’s aching cock. It twitched as though it wanted to follow that finger back, and Ryeowook swallowed hard. Then it was up to him, and he would show Jongwoon exactly what he wanted.
And Ryeowook crawled onto the bed and stayed knelt, bending over, and lifting his hips. He looked back over his shoulder, ready to beg if he had to. “On your knot.”
“You think it’s going to fit?”
Ryeowook laughed, or tried to, because fuck, what a tease that was, and how smug.
“I want it all,” he said.
He’d wanted it all for too long, and he was so close to getting it. Jongwoon’s knees settled on the outside of his and turned his head back, smiling and relaxing as Jongwoon gripped his ass and got his cock wet and ready. Ryeowook was ready.
“Ohhhh,” Ryeowook moaned, Jongwoon’s cock spreading him open. The stretch of it had him bracing, but he was pushing back for more as Jongwoon tried to rock deeper. He didn’t know what to do, how to focus on anything but getting Jongwoon’s cock inside him. More, the slick press of it, groaning at the sting and at the pressure against his prostate as Jongwoon drew out and pressed in deeper, again, again, until Ryeowook wished he could spread his legs to give Jongwoon more room. But he couldn’t, not trapped as they were between Jongwoon’s. He’d wanted to feel every bit of and he did, crying out as Jongwoon gripped his hips and pushed the rest of the way, sliding in the last thick inches until there was nowhere left to go. He was stretched open, impossibly, Jongwoon’s cock throbbing in him as Jongwoon shifted his hips, experimenting. It felt too good then, and it wasn’t even Jongwoon’s knot, but that was how it was going to feel, Jongwoon’s cock in him, the knot holding it there, tying them.
His long, low moan was luxury, not pain as Jongwoon pulled halfway only to push back just as deep.
“It’s like you’ve never had a cock,” Jongwoon marveled.
Oh he had, he had, but he wouldn’t have bothered with any others if he’d know what Jongwoon’s was like.
“Fuck me, oh, please, Jongwoon.”
It was like Jongwoon hearing his name spurred him, running his hands over Ryeowook’s back and letting his hips taking a slow, deliberate rock. A couple of inches, back and forth, maddening, arousing, a tease when Ryeowook knew he was holding back and not giving him the fucking he’d been wanting. He tried to tighten around Jongwoon, tried to move with him, show him. He was just going to dissolve if Jongwoon didn’t fuck him properly, his cock twitching tight and eager as the sweat of his effort slid down his skin.
“Jongwoon,” he exulted, as Jongwoon began to move, not just a shifting of his hips, but truly beginning to fuck. “Jongwoon!”
“You want this? I had to smell you every time I saw you. Which alphas—“
“None of them,” Ryeowook cried out, rattled by Jongwoon’s thrusts against him, like Jongwoon was trying to erase the imaginary alphas that Ryeowook had been taken by. “I wanted you.”
“Fuck. I’d have knotted you in front of all of them,”Jongwoon said, and grunted as he gripped Ryeowook’s hips and fucked into him quick and hard, their skin slapping together. Ryeowook would have let him. He’d have put on a skirt, done anything if he’d known Jongwoon had been willing. “Who did you have, if none of them?”
“No one,” Ryeowook said. “I went home and rode the biggest toy I owned wishing it was you. But it wasn’t as big as you. Oh.”
Jongwoon’s cock jolted into him and Jongwoon leaned over his back, biting at the curve of his neck and shoulder. “You came thinking of me.”
Ryeowook moaned. “Every— every time.”
Sure he had alphas sniffing around, wanting him, but he’d been waiting for a cock worthy of being knotted by, an alpha able to cover him up and take him like he needed. And fuck, Jongwoon was all of that, fucking him as he imagined Ryeowook coming all over himself as he’d wished for Jongwoon’s cock. And if Jongwoon didn’t come soon, Ryeowook was going to get there before he did.
“Going to knot you,” Jongwoon promised. “Going to come in you. Going to make you come.”
Promises. But Jongwoon was braced over him, fucking the air right out him as his cock seemed to only grow thicker, longer, feeling the struggle as flesh thickened and Jongwoon cried out, gripping Ryeowook’s hips and shoving his cock deep, shoving his hips against Ryeowook’s ass harder, faster, not pulling out but trying to get deeper and Ryeowook gasped as the knot spread him open inside, swelling like it was never going to stop as Jongwoon shuddered and tried to stab deeper.
“Ryeowook,” Jongwoon moaned, and the knot, his cock, began to pulse, coming in him with every jerk of Jongwoon’s body. It made his own cock drip, listening to Jongwoon come, feeling the knot continuing to swell though it seemed impossible. They would going to be tied forever, and the thought made him moan. Jongwoon’s pleased grunts sent sparks of pleasure through him.
“So hot,” Jongwoon said, his breathing more even and his knot pulsing tight. “Do you scream when you…?”
Ryeowook’s body seized when Jongwoon’s hand closed around his cock. Jongwoon laughed above him as Ryeowook tightened desperately around the knot, Jongwoon’s fingers jerking so knowingly on his cock until Ryeowook was babbling with the orgasm trembling in him.
“Jongwoon, Jongwoon, Jong—“
He came on a near-silent keen, feeling Jongwoon’s palm cupped under Ryeowook’s cock, catching all of his come. He was trembling, high from the orgasm and unable to collapse because of the knot and the way he was still trapped between Jongwoon’s legs. His body kept going tight, exploring the knot and what it could do, how good it felt, how dazed it made him.
He felt fingers tracing wet against his skin.
“What are you doing?” Ryeowook asked, his cock still throbbing and hard.
“Writing my name on you. Next time anyone sees you, they’ll smell me on you, but we’ll both know you have me written all over you.”
On his back, on his belly, between his nipples, on his thighs, along his neck, he felt Jongwoon’s fingers trace and swirl. He wondered if Jongwoon actually wrote anything but it didn’t matter because Ryeowook felt every stroke of Jongwoon’s name on him, claiming him, stating that Jongwoon had been there, had pleased him, and hadn’t stopped. And Ryeowook gasped as Jongwoon didn’t just wipe his hand clean, but the come he hadn’t used to write and claim, Jongwoon smeared it all over his cock and began to jerk him off without mercy as Ryeowook cried out and clutched around his knot and tried to fuck into Jongwoon’s hand.
Ryeowook arched his back, exclaiming as he came into Jongwoon’s palm a second time. But Jongwoon didn’t spread it onto his cock and keep stroking, he lifted his hand and cupped it againstRyeowook’s mouth and spoke low into his ear.
“Lick it clean. Eat it all up. Pretend it’s mine.”
But Jongwoon wasn’t patient, rubbing his hand all over Ryeowook’s lips, his chin, his cheeks, smearing Ryeowook’s come all over his face as Ryeowook desperately licked at Jongwoon’s palm. He’d smell of his own come, of Jongwoon’s inside him, and Jongwoon wasn’t through with him yet, lifting his hips with the knot straining in him and forcing his knees wide so that Jongwoon settled above him, with Ryeowook groaning, flat on the bed beneath him. He didn’t know why, not until Jongwoon began to rock against his ass, and Ryeowook gasped as the knot inside him ground against his prostate even as the motion of Jongwoon’s body forced his cock to rub against the damp sheets.
Ryeowook moaned and writhed, indignant sounds of pleasure leaving him as Jongwoon scratched along his skin, burrowing his hands to pinch at Ryeowook’s nipples and leaning to kiss against his neck, breathing there so heavily as Ryeowook was surrounded by him. Ryeowook wailed as he spilled against the sheets and Jongwoon only rocked against him faster, the wet making it easier as his balls ached and tightened.
“You sound amazing when you come,” Jongwoon said, and it had him moaning, trying to prepare himself for the onslaught because he knew Jongwoon wasn’t satisfied.
“Jongwoon,” he gasped, and he gripped the sheets and for a moment, a surfeit of pleasure dancing behind his eyes, knew the length of Jongwoon’s cock in him, the whole of it, and Jongwoon’s knot had him coming against the sheets again.
Ryeowook was whimpering, his heart thundering against the mattress and his belly wet, but Jongwoon was mostly still, braced above him and kissing against his skin. Licking against the come he’d smeared there maybe, and that caused a different kind of sound, involuntarily tightening around Jongwoon’s knot.
It had him grinning in exhausted satisfaction, not caring if Jongwoon saw and hoping he did, because he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and was already thinking of having Jongwoon again. For then, he was content to drift with Jongwoon still in him, breathing against him, holding him.
***
Prompt: catboy!henry going in heat. his owner is either hae or wook smut
***
Henry woke in a sweat, and it was a growl that left him, not a purr when he rolled onto his belly and trapped his hard cock against the mattress. He wiggled his underwear down, all he was wearing, and the cool of the sheet helped for only a moment. He was wet, the slick apparent as he moved, an ache in his balls, an ache to be filled and a bed suspiciously empty of a human to help him. He wriggled out of his underwear slowly, moaning at the friction on his cock, and he drew his knees up under himself, widening them and moaning as he left a place so he could be filled and covered.
“Donghae!” A shout. A groan maybe. Whatever it was, he heard footsteps, he knew when Donghae was there, when he saw. “Please.”
He wiggled his hips, so obvious what he needed.
“So soon,” Donghae said, and Henry wanted to laugh. Yeah, it’d been a week, maybe, since the last time, but that didn’t make him want less. Or make Donghae want less, as he listened to Donghae breathing hard as he got up on the bed behind him. He whimpered as Donghae rubbed his hands over his back, his sides, his thighs. Two fingers rubbed through the wet, testing, and Henry moaned because it wasn’t enough.
But Donghae’s cock was, like a live wire pressed against him, getting harder by the second as Henry rocked back against him and tried to get Donghae inside him.
“Are you going to fuck me or just rub me until I come,” Henry pouted, grumbling, swaying. He’d been so blissed out the last time, on his back with Donghae all hot between his thighs, and Donghae’s fingers rubbing his ears. Donghae did it just to make him purr, he knew it.
“Can you come like that?” Donghae asked, almost sounding intrigued.
“I don’t want to find out right now,” Henry said, and lifted his hips in demand.
He got hands, warm hands, that gripped his hips, after Donghae’s cock was pressed against him. And those hands pulled his hips back as Donghae’s hard cock slid into him. Henry gurgled as every deeper press had his cock jerking against his belly, dripping and so close. Donghae nudged in. Further. Wiggling hips and little jolts until he couldn’t move further - and it took one stroke of Donghae’s hand along Henry’s cock before he was bucking and clutching and coming in Donghae’s hand. He was groaning, angry, and Donghae fucked him through it, laughing, bastard, gripping Henry’s cock that was still hard, still ready,
“So wet,” Donghae admired, and Henry wanted to bite him. A cat in heat, who knew, and Donghae wasn’t getting him off like he—
Henry gasped as Donghae’s hand took three quick jerks along his cock and he was moaning into the pillow all over again.
“How many times are you going to come before your heat breaks this time?” Donghae asked. Henry shook his head, not knowing. “Well, that’s two.”
He did purr when Donghae leaned all the way across his back and nuzzled against his cheek. And a minute later, it was three.
***
Prompt: Welcome back! Hope you're doing well. I missed reading your work these days. Can I request a prompt where SJ thinks Mi's muscles are just for show and challenge him to arm wrestling contest but all ended up loosing? Thank you ~
***
“All show, no substance.”
Zhou Mi chuckled, the sound lazy as he looked over his adversaries. Oh. Well, if they wanted to think that, sure. They hadn’t been in the gym with him, hadn’t seen the things he did to get those showpieces. But unlike something gilt, he had the real deal underneath.
“I’ll go first,” Kyuhyun said, not waiting for anyone else to make up their mind. Good choice. Comparable arm length, hands. Kyuhyun’s face was set as Donghae hovered over them like some kind of referee.
And Zhou Mi had Kyuhyun’s hand on the table in less than two seconds, bending it down like a dandelion stem.
“Ow!” Kyuhyun said, and danced up off the chair, shaking his hand. Zhou Mi smirked, and harder when it was clear it was Kyuhyun’s pride that was hurt. Hyukjae slid across from him next, eyebrows waggling as they clasped hands. Clash of the 86 line. Hyukjae’s face twisted as they started. He grunted. He cawed. His knuckles hit the table and Zhou Mi was victorious.
Zhou mi shook out his arm, looking to see who else wanted to try.
Everyone oohed and ached as Youngwoon sat across from him. A worthy opponent. They stared at each other over their hands, the light of battle in their eyes. At first, oh, at first he felt the give, mustering his strength and using that momentum to throw Youngwoon off, to make him waver, to hover halfway down as Zhou Mi wheezed—
And the whole room erupted when Zhou Mi won.
They crowned him with an empty box and fed him a cookie. Just for show indeed.
***
Prompt: SJM raiding Mi's closet for airport fashion? Thank you!!!
***
It was all well and good when they were let loose in his clothes collection, but while there were a very limited number of up front restriction, he reserved the right to veto some selections. To a one when he did so they questioned his fashion choices, and Zhou Mi had to point out that they were standing in his closet, one of them, so they could hardly talk. But most of it was just fn. Seeing how they mauled through it, holding up hangers, examining hats, pushing things against each other’s chest or posing in front of the mirror to see what looked good.
“Did you make this?” Kyuhyun asked, sly, seeing some fringe on the edge of a shirt.
“No, I bought it like that,” Zhou Mi asked. And then, h wondered if it looked bad enough for Kyuhyun to ask. “Why?”
Kyuhyun shook his head very innocently, and put it back, opting instead for something that was…striped.
And Henry had four hats on his head, one of Zhou Mi’s scarves draped around his neck and over his arms like some kind of snake. Zhou Mi wasn’t even going to say anything.
Donghae had pulled something with a lion on it. Not bad. Sungmin’s had little flecks of metal sewn into it. One of his favorites. A great find. Hyukjae had actually pulled one of Zhou Mi’s self-decorated shirts and Zhou Mi stared, daring Kyuhyun to say even one word.
Hyukjae seemed satisfied, so there was that. And they were all going to look wonderful for their trip. Zhou Mi settled back, pleased.
***
Prompt: where SJ/M all had to practice running in heels before debut? (and heechul RULES in them? xD) thanks!
***
Back and forth. And then back again. And forth. And so forth.
Luckily the heels weren’t all that tall, and people kept joking that it wasn’t all that bad because they were used to shoe lifts. But shoe lifts were at least wide and the shoe under that determined the stability. It felt like their ankles were wobbly, the found under their feet unsteady. It wasn’t as bad as stilts or some kind of unicycle. Though when everyone else was wobbling around or trying to lumber and slink along, Heechul was stomping up and down the room like he was walking in boots instead of heels.
Hyukjae was trying to stride along, and even with that, Heechul passed him, sneering. “You have to figure out how to move,” Heechul said. “Balance. Move!”
It got no better when they had to run, a big hulking group of men either trying to come down hard on the heel or tiptoe along. Siwon looked like he was a comic book villain and Donghae went straddle legged like he thought that was going to bring him balance.
There was no one in the room who normally wore heels, so there was that. At least they could suffer their embarrassment in— in the relative silence of Heechul’s laughter.
***
Prompt: Can I ask for something where the members are commenting on Mi's performance on Dream Team? (I just finished watching the second episode and I'm so full of feels rn). Thank you T^T
***
“Next time we get together in winter, we should get a sleigh so you can pull us around,” was the first thing Zhou Mi heard. But it was Heechul. So if he’d have had anything other than a balled up sock he’d have thrown it, but instead he laughed and tried to imagine that. They could have all the reindeer. Heechul would probably insist on being Santa. Though that left the elves.
“I just want to play in the pool. You did okay,” Kyuhyun said. High praise as Zhou Mi lifted an eyebrow at him. “Though the best part was you waking up—“
“Kyuhyun started laughing asking where your shirt was,” Donghae put in, earning him a solid slap and jeers as Kyuhyun started waving his hands like he’d been misunderstood.
“One night and—“
“You’re a beast,” Youngwoon said, totally ignoring Kyuhyun trying to save himself and patting Zhou Mi’s shoulder.
Well. He was just going to stay with Youngwoon then, leaning back next to him and preening.
“Did you see all the comments after? You totally won them over.”
He was just glad to be in a place where he didn’t have to win over anyone. He was just with people where he could be himself.
***
Prompt: MiMin based on this http://mingteukies.tumblr.com/post/80705557619/precious-mimi-watching-over-tired-ming? Please and Thank You :)
***
None of them, on little sleep, were particularly paragons of self care. It was be upright, but not necessarily having a lot of steering, or face control. Face masks helped. Sunglasses. Leashes. Zhou Mi had seen Donghae careen right over a chair one time, rubbing at his eyes one moment and nearly faceplanting the next. Sungmin nestled up against his side like an unsteady penguin, and Zhou Mi wrapped an arm around him. He passed along warmth, stability, and maybe a reminder that Sungmin wasn’t the only one up and moving at such an ungodly time of the day.
“Why do you look so cheerful,” Sungmin grumbled, and Zhou Mi swallowed the laugh, tipping down his sunglasses and letting Sungmin see just how cheerful he looked.
“Illusion,” he whispered, and for some reason that perked Sungmin up a little, sharing their misery while everyone got their stuff settled and tried to get themselves arranged so they could head into the airport together. They’d already played a round of who got to sit by the member of their choice, or rather, who got to sleep by the person they wanted to sleep on was more like it. If anyone was awake through the whole trip, he’d be surprised.
But by the time they went across, Sungmin had gotten his bearings, and Zhou Mi was happy to walk alongside him.
***
Prompt: A prompt... girl!Heechul and Zhou Mi? Please?
***
It was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t that Heechul had watched the movie a few dozen times, because Zhou Mi had really only seen her watching it a couple of times. Then again, she wore headphones so who knew. The songs were everywhere, of course, some kind of fascination with them that Zhou Mi acknowledged, accepted, occasionally hummed along to. He’d seen the movie in the theater once, because he was a good boyfriend. Occasionally a long-suffering one, but then again, Heechul put up with a lot too, so they gave and took.
Still, when he came home and a Disney princess was occupying the kitchen instead of his girlfriend, Zhou Mi completely paused and shut down.
“Heechul?” Zhou Mi inquired, and when Heechul preened a little bit, Zhou Mi continued, “Or…Anna?”
Heechul actually laughed, twirling in her new dress. “Great, right?”
“Are you going to watch the movie dressed like that?” Zhou Mi asked.
They were going out to dinner, so his real question was: Are you going on a date with me dressed like that?
“Should I get you a—“
“Unless you want to dress me up as a reindeer, probably not,” Zhou Mi quipped.
Then again. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that because she went a bit thoughtful.
He really did go to the next costume party they went to with sparkly horns on his head.
***
Pairing: Henry/Donghae, Zhou Mi/Sungmin, Leeteuk/Zhou Mi, Changmin/Zhou Mi, Victoria/Zhou Mi, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Yesung/Siwon, Donghae/Zhou Mi, Yesung/Zhou Mi, Yesung/Ryeowook, Heechul/Zhou Mi, gen
Rating: up to NC-17
Genre: smut, fluff, romance, AU
Summary: Twenty-six random prompts from ask.fm/coleymerrin
***
Prompt: henhae pacific rim au? :)
***
No one saw the videos of kaiju destroying cities, demolishing bridges, places of safety being dissolved, without caring. Donghae hadn’t lost any family, hadn’t seen a kaiju in person before stepping out of the plane on the cliff side and watching with something close to awe as the jaeger was dropped into the bay, the kaiju’s mouth like blue-burning flame. Even from there, even that far away, they could feel the rumbles, hear the shrieks. Seeing it like that, it wasn’t some scary video sending people running from what looked like an imaginary beast.
It was real.
***
The Shatterdome was a cavern, but the Drift was an oasis. In some ways it amplified his fear and disgust and in some ways it destroyed it, letting his mind empty for the neural handshake. Donghae had almost gotten caught once, letting a memory steal him, and he’s learned form that, focused it. He looked tot he side, saw Henry looking back, and together they nodded. They needed no words, as secure in the jaeger as they were anywhere. They were in sync, the giant beast that moved with them like some well-tuned car. For a moment, it was easy to feel invincible, and he felt Henry’s laughter. They’d fought, six times over a succession of weeks as their compatibility was tested. The Marshall said they were too immature to be Rangers, but their dedication in the combat sessions was too much to ignore. They fought each other to test compatibility but they truly fought for knowledge of how to beat the next beast. When the alarm sounded, when they would be tightened into their suits and locked into place. No one knew how it felt, if they hadn’t been there themselves. Maybe they wanted it, maybe they dreamed about it, but it wasn’t the same.
***
The screams and roars of the kaiju, Grapple, had rumbled through them, skittering along nerves as the impacts had shaken and thrown them. They felt invincible and were so vulnerable, and he’d really only felt it when the kaiju had bitten into the jaeger’s left arm and he heard Henry’s shouts in his ears, in his head.
It took cannon blasts to level the kaiju, until they’d been limp and wrung out, waiting for transport.
He still heard the screams.
The water pounding against the back of his neck as an attempt to drown it out, finally in the safety of the Shatterdome. He didn’t want to think, even though he knew they’d be talked to, that the battle would be dissected to see how to improve. The tempered glass door shuddered as it opened, and Donghae looked up, ready to snarl.
All that came out as Henry stepped into the shower with him was, “Do you mind?”
“Yeah, I do,” Henry said.
He didn’t try to move Donghae, didn’t try and talk. His hands squeezed on Donghae’s shoulders, his forehead a steady presence against Donghae’s. They couldn’t hear each other, not like that, but he listened to Henry breathe, and the sound of the water, and let his mind quiet like they were in the Drift.
***
Prompt: Can I ask for another fluff piece where Mi is teaching SJM cheesy lines in Chinese? Almost driving the ever patient teacher to near insanity? Thanks a ton <3
***
It was like trying to wrangle cats, in all honesty. Or maybe ducklings that had a tendency to scatter when approached. When Zhou Mi thought he was in control, he had that illusion quickly scattered when there was a joke by Donghae that sent everyone up in laughter, or when Henry “helped” by repeating what Zhou Mi had just said and trying to imitate him.
“I don’t sound like that!” Zhou Mi protested, and got several disbelieving stares.
Of course a well-meaning direction with how much this would mean to the fans usually got them back on track again. Ryeowook chirped back phrases like a baby bird, Kyuhyun squinting hard and using all his might to try and get the tones right. Donghae. Donghae also tried.
And then Kyuhyun poke them and derailed them from learning how to that everyone was so cute and sweet, they were lucky to have them as fans.
“Okay!” Zhou Mi said, clapping his hands and having flashbacks to one of his first teachers. He’d been six.
“Can we ask them on a date?”
“No.”
“Will you marry me~” Kyuhyun warbled, as Hyukjae held out a hand like he was holding flowers.
Zhou Mi put his head down on the table for all of three seconds, because any longer than that wasn’t safe. Not with them around.
***
Prompt: i have had a rough last few days. can you write me some mimin genderswap (gxg) high school au?
***
She was the cute older girl that almost everyone loved, and that was how she was presented to Zhou Mi. There were the girls in the corner that gave her the evil eye and the guys who declared she was beneath them (but in reality was too good for them, and they knew it).
“Is there anything you can’t do?” Zhou Mi asked, watching Sungmin fold an incredibly complex origami elephant. Zhou Mi was fairly sure if she’s tried that she would have ended up with something that looked more like a badger, if not a giant wadded-up ball of paper.
“Well, yeah,” Sungmin said, and there was something weird about that, until she looked up all fierce and bopped Zhou Mi’s nose with the elephant’s trunk. It tickled. “Don’t listen to what they say about me.”
Zhou Mi grinned, pleased as she stretched out her arms a little further along the table and rested her head on them. “I don’t. I just know.”
And she shrieked as Sungmin goosed her.
***
There was something warm about Sungmin, something inviting, even when she was being serious. And she was serious. She wasn’t just walking cuteness, oozing charm. Though sometimes there was a glitter that she got when Zhou Mi wore heels because Zhou Mi found that cute even as she attempted not to trip over door stops. Zhou Mi preened because of the attention, but sometimes she wished she was more like Sungmin, softer. She took Sungmin with her when she got another piercing in her ears, and Sungmin draped herself over Zhou Mi’s back when she was tired. Sungmin’s lips twitched when Zhou Mi said a word wrong, laughing when Zhou Mi huffed at her. That sparkle became a shine in the most beautiful way. If Zhou Mi hadn’t already been Sungmin’s friend it would have pained her to look Sungmin’s way, afraid she’d be spotted, hoping she would be.
“Let’s go see a movie instead of studying,” Sungmin said, and several pieces of Zhou Mi’s heart agreed. They shared popcorn, lingering in the cool of the theater until they couldn’t, whispering about the movie and emerging grudgingly into the oppressive humidity.
It was like a date but it wasn’t, and Zhou Mi’s heart was light anyway, walking with excitement until Sungmin complained that she was walking too fast. She opened her mouth to prod that Sungmin should walk faster, but she turned around instead.
“Thank you,” Zhou Mi said, and the hug she gave was enveloping, the kind of hug she couldn’t help herself giving.
“For what?”
She didn’t know. Being her friend. Accepting her when she’d been new and strange.
“Everything,” she warbled instead, wriggling as Sungmin poked into her back. And her breath hitched as her shoulders met the cool of the brick building, laughing as Sungmin leaned up as though to whisper a secret.
A secret brushed against Zhou Mi’s lips.
It felt like her brain and her heart puffed out like a dandelion, frozen there with Sungmin’s lips on hers. But then she touched Sungmin’s hair, her neck. She didn’t ask Sungmin why. She didn’t have to.
***
Prompt: Could you write SuJu (and Minho) being all into the World Cup and incredulous that Zhou Mi doesn't care because China's not in it? Feeling the event, but poor SK needs some miracles to get out of group ugh
***
“My country isn’t in it,” he said, and there were a lot of incredulous stares that Zhou Mi met.
“But we’re your adopted country!” Minho declared.
“Are you?” Zhou Mi asked, lips twitching.
“But there are other countries you can care about too,” Hyukjae declared, like it was sacred, or like he wouldn’t throw any country that wasn’t South Korea under the bus at a moment’s notice. “You can just pick one.”
“Just pick one,” Zhou Mi repeated, and got scowled at.
He could just pick one. He could pick one based on uniform design, or because he liked a certain face, or maybe because they seemed destined to win and sometimes it was fun to cheer for someone who would.
Maybe it would’ve helped if he’d had a whole lot of interest in the sport to start with, but he wasn’t going to explain getting hit with the ball or falling over it when he was younger. They would probably have dragged him out to the first grassy patch and tried to indoctrinate him.
Though sometimes he feigned disinterest because it was fun to goad them. Their excitement was infections if he happened to be int he room, laughing at the TV. They’d see who won, in the end. He couldn’t pretend it wouldn’t be interesting getting there.
***
Prompt: angsty sj bandfic but kinda mi-centric, from kyu's pov? (omg hope this isnt too confusing ;A;) Kyu sense that Mi and him, and Mi/SJ isnt as close as before n he pondered why; also he gets to ask to Mi himself one day but gets vague answers... Thanks ><
***
At first, he thought it was just because they didn’t see everyone as much. There was a quiet reserve that sort of gave him a pinch in his belly, but then again sometimes it went away like nothing changed, nothing happened. Asking Zhou Mi about it was trying to get an answer from the Sphinx because he just averted his eyes or changed the subject. Really subtle, sometimes, not so much other times.
“Does Zhou Mi come over and hang out?” Kyuhyun asked.
“Oh yeah, sometimes,” Donghae said, fiddling with his phone.
“Yeah? How long ago?”
Donghae looked up glazed eyes which told Kyuhyun just about everything A long time ago, apparently.
Zhou Mi didn’t joke at him quite as much, like he was worried about Kyuhyun’s reaction, or— Or maybe he didn’t know what to joke about, which was worse.
More or less it was up to him, then. He wasn’t going to give it up, or let it slide, or anything like that. He knew better. He was the one who texted Zhou Mi daily, and the one who dragged him out for food, and the one who sat outside his building util Zhou Mi came down rather bemused so Kyuhyun could drag him back to watch a movie with everyone. Sometimes he looked at Zhou Mi and felt so much pride he just sort of puffed up inside, and he wondered if Zhou Mi knew. One day, he was going to have to tell him.
***
Prompt: Thanks for writing that Qmi in Taiwan fluff. May I request something with Leeteuk x Zhou Mi this time? Anything is fine. Thanks so much <3
***
“Happy birthday,” was probably the first thing most people said to him that day, but Zhou Mi decided to be different. He’d got a gift of course, a couple of shirts he’d actually been saving for the occasion.
Instead, Zhou Mi walked up to Leeteuk with a hug and a shiny wrapped box and said, “Leader.”
The inhale told him everything.
Zhou Mi remember one time, maybe it was months or years, it was hard to tell. There’d been upheaval, anger, too many eyes directed at the intent wondering what fans were thinking, saying, what they wanted or thought they wanted. When Leeteuk had pulled him aside, Zhou Mi had been immersed in determination.
“I’ve told the others this already,” Leeteuk said. “It doesn’t matter who is or isn’t leader or who is named later, I’m here for you, too.”
Even if maybe they couldn’t say it yet, and maybe they had to find a way to make inclusion a reality…? It had meant something then. It had been an out, an ear offered, someone willing to stand up for him even within what they knew.
So it made him smile, all that time later, to be able to give that back.
***
Prompt: Weird prompt sorry :/ Changmin tries to get closer to oblivious Zhou Mi because whenever ChangKyuToria hang out Mi is all Kyu and Vic talk about and Changmin is kind of jealous/feeling left out? Then Kyu and Vic catch on and apologise/become bff-y again, but Mi and Changmin do end up friends too? ~♥
***
They had so many stories and in jokes, Kyuhyun chortling about something Zhou Mi had said while Victoria rolled her eyes with obvious affection. It wasn’t like Changmin didn’t know Zhou Mi, though he just didn’t spend as much time with him as they did. It was like hearing about a stranger almost, someone shared only between them that made Changmin laugh because he thought he should and not because he knew why.
He wasn’t sure who he got Zhou Mi’s number from, exchanging a number of polite and ridiculous text messages. His offer to get together went right over Zhou Mi’s head it seemed, since he agreed enthusiastically - for some unknown future time. It took at least twice doing that before they actually set up a time. He was going to have stories, too,that way, almost jumping when Zhou Mi called his name and smiled.
“Kyuhyun and Victoria talk about you a lot.”
He didn’t expect Zhou Mi to be embarrassed by it, vaguely pleased and affectionate. At least he knew more about who Zhou Mi talked about, trying to drag Kyuhyun away from his keyboard, laughing at Victoria’s stumbles. What they both knew was a bridge together, talking about other things, themselves, concerts, song, travels.
But the last thing he expected when he met up for dinner with the others that Kyuhyun traded a look with Victoria.
“Do we talk about Zhou Mi too much?” Kyuhyun asked.
Changmin blinked at them.
“Zhou Mi said you brought up that you heard about him from us,” Victoria told him. “I guess we were just realizing…?”
Changmin wanted to laugh, because they were oblivious and cute about it. “It’s all right. I’m going to catch a movie with Zhou Mi soon, so.”
Something good had come out of it. And if they were free, they both knew they would be welcome to join them.
***
Prompt: where SJM is cast as toothpaste CF models and Mi is the lead cast (the casting director was.... dazzled? by him :P) and how everyone ask him for "smiling advice"? xD (inspired by cutiepie Mimimi's recent weibo update kekeke. thanks coleycoley!)
***
They weren’t really sure how to audition a smile, but they could 100% say they were not surprised when Zhou Mi got singled out by the director. There were murmurs among them, not really knowing how he did it, not knowing how he went from looking vaguely grumpy to radiating sunbeams. Whatever it was, it worked, the director making sweeping motions with his hands as he showed Zhou Mi a gleaming oversized tube of toothpaste which was the product they’d be promoting. Apparently he was going to carry it around like some kind of weird clutch, lifting it and beaming out his most dazzling smile.
“How do you smile to get picked like that,” Hyukjae asked, cornering him with the others not far behind.
“Think of something happy?” Zhou Mi said. “Or..I don’t actually think sometimes, it just happens. Donghae has a great smile, too!”
Everyone else was a little miffed at not being called out first, and Donghae was puzzled and delighted.
“Right, but he looks like the neighbor’s puppy smiling,” Hyukjae said, dismissing that out of hand. Siwon looked like he was trying to be cool, Ryeowook looked like someone wanted to give him a pinch, and Kyuhyun looked too… Kyuhyun.
“Cheeky?” Zhou Mi wondered, stepping up for him.
“No,” Hyukjae said, and got beat on by pillows. There was only so many pointers Zhou Mi could give, because he thought their smiles were nice anyway. He had his favorites, not that he was going to tell them that. Sometimes seeing a smile just made him happy, so it was easy to give one.
Though he tried to arrange Kyuhyun’s face once, Kyuhyun getting stuck in some unnatural smile while trying to practice at a window.
“Smile like yourself, because that what looks best,” Zhou Mi said. And ah, the smile he got then, that was a real one.
***
Prompt: Prompt: Victoria seducing Zhou Mi while wearing the bobbed wig she has in the Red Light concept photos. smut
***
It changed the angles of her face at first glance, the heavy bangs and hair that angled down along her jaw. But it didn’t change her face. She wore makeup, a little, but not like she wore for the shoots. It enhanced, but she was still Victoria, still Song Qian as she stroked her hands up his bare arms and nibbled against his mouth. Her heels brought her up just to the right height as he curved his hands at her waist and kissed her. All he knew that her breasts were pressed against his chest, her hands teasing, mouth soft against his and hips shifting against his suddenly-interested cock.
“What—“ he started, and his eyes went wide as she kissed up his neck.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Well. A while was one way of putting it. But she— She didn’t say it was just to get him laid, or because she needed to get off, or wanted a body to hold, to kiss, to feel against her. He was hard because of her kisses, because of her rocking hips, because of the looks she sent him from under those straight bangs that urged him to want what he had certainly never expected. It wasn’t sweet or slow, no debate, just kisses he moaned into, stroking over her back, cupping her ass and rocking against her, cupping her face and making her moan.
She was the one who had the condom, who had him breathless, his pants opened as they kissed. He didn’t know how she did it, how she thought, when all he could think of was the ache.
Her arms went around his neck, her leg lifting up high until he could under it, hook under both of them and hitch her up until they were kissing, filthy, braced against a different wall than the one they’d started against. And that was when she let him in, holding him right where she wanted him.
She was so wet around him, moaning, tilting her head as he slid into her. When he’d settled in her, deep as he could go, her lips curved.
“Glad not ever part of you is as skinny as you used to be.” And she gasped, as he pulled out an inch and slid back in. “Oh. Very glad.”
He’d changed from back then, bus so had she. They’d grown up, grown together, grown to the point where he had caught up against him, thrusting into her and caught in moans of his own as she squeezed around him, pulled at him.
“How—“
“Dance,” she panted, gripping the back of his shirt hard and trying to wiggled him deeper with each movement. Or he thought that was what she said. He was too busy lifting his hips and grinding agains her, feeling her clutch around him, her legs tense and mouth parted. He did what felt best to him, tweaked it so that she moaned and that middle ground pleased them both. He didn’t know what had driven her, but it was want that he felt from her as he kissed her throat, taking him every bit as much as he was taking her. That she could do that amazed him, the way she undulated, the way she moved him, squeezed so tight around him.
The way she enjoyed him
“Zhou Mi. Zhou Mi. Oh, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
Only if he’d had to, only if she’d asked could he have as he fought his body’s desire to come because she needed him to focus just a little longer on her. His body was crying for it, shuddering as he thrust into her, rubbed against her. Her little throaty sounds shot straight through him, gasping through clenched teeth as they raged together. She was so tight around him, tighter, and he could barely breathe, begging her, urging her with whimpers and clenching fists. He knew when she came, even before she pushed against the wall, before she started clamping around him. It was the look on her face, pleasure and glory, and his breath was sobbing out of him as he pinned her tight and fucked her through her orgasm, knees trembling as he braced them both against the wall and came in her. His forehead thumped against the wall, chest heaving and body throbbing.
“Oh, good,” she almost whimpered, and it made him laugh, hissing as he pulled out of her and let down her legs.
Oh good, yes.
The wig was who knew where, and he stroked the soft hair that had fallen over her shoulder.
“I’d stay the night, but someone would probably notice if I didn’t go out again,” she said.
It might’ve been nice to cuddle all night in bed. But the hour he got of her pressed up against him on the couch had been worth it, trading sly glances with her as they looked over several magazines he had brought.
“Song Qian,” he said when he hugged her goodbye. He thought that said everything.
***
Prompt: SJM (namely KyuWook) fights over who gets to sit next to Mi on the plane so they could use him as a body pillow? Thanks Coley!
***
Even in the nicer easts, maybe even especially, it was nice to sit next to someone who wasn’t afraid of touching. It wasn’t like each of them could get a side, either, since there were only two seats per side of the plane, nice and roomy, ways to stretch out that they very much appreciated. Donghae had stolen away with Hyukjae, and Siwon had claimed Sungmin. It left Henry on one side, and Zhou Mi on the other. Zhou Mi was ignoring them, but Henry was watching them like they were particularly interesting fish, plus he got the pleasure of tormenting whoever lost.
Zhou Mi wasn’t afraid of spooning while sleeping and Henry had only hopefully showered.
Kyuhyun threw down scissors. And he was met with scissors. Ryeowook scowled.
Rock. Both of them.
Scissors again.
Paper.
“You got to when we flew back,” Ryeowook said, like it would in any way influence Kyuhyun’s decision.
“Different trip,” was Kyuhyun’s decisive answer.
“Do I get a say?” Henry asked.
“No,” they chorused, without even turning.
Scissors. Scissors. Rock.
Ryeowook put up scissors. Kyuhyun stayed with rock, and lifted his fists in the air like he’d just won a wrestling match, cringing into himself and bowing as a flight attendant needed to get past. And Kyuhyun took his place next to Zhou Mi before Ryeowook could think about stealing it and making it impossible to get him out without actually hauling him out bodily and causing a scene.
Zhou Mi’s look to him might have been a bit pitying, but Kyuhyun didn’t care, because he’d won. They’d start all over on the way back.
***
Prompt: Members find it weird how Mi is suddenly so close to so many KPOP idol groups through ITC? Thank you :D
***
They were always trying to peek at his phone which Zhou Mi found particularly hilarious. He’d started naming people weird things only he could know - once he figured out Kyuhyun was looking up different characters to see if he could figure out who was who.
“Do you talk to all of them?”
“Well,” Zhou Mi said, and didn’t manage to avoid it as Hyukjae followed him into the kitchen. “Not all of them. I didn’t ask for all their numbers.”
“But you said someone was cute. Do you talk to them?”
He wasn’t going to tease Hyukjae about clearly watching especially when Ryeowook was peering at him and Donghae was listening from the table.
“Did you see him at the concert? He was getting mobbed!”
“It’s like he’s a celebrity or something,” Kyuhyun intoned while walking past, and ducking out of the way as Hyukjae swatted at his head.
“He had more people dashing for him than Ryeowook.”
Ryeowook blinked, a grin spreading across his face. “Did they tackle him?”
“You were standing there, too!”
“I had my own mob to deal with,” Ryeowook said, sniffing like he was offended even as he caught Zhou Mi’s eye and tried not to laugh.
***
Prompt: hi, may i request for a short eunhae fic? here's the scenario: eunhae just sleeping on the same bed. no kissing, no sex, no words. Just the sound of their relaxed breaths and just the slight touch of their hands, feeling so warm and safe sleeping next to each other. Thanks! (◕‿◕✿)
***
The air itself was cool, which was something to be thankful for, and the blanket had that feeling of being stretched, a little movement as they settled, adjusted into the mattress. They made twin dents on the pillows, necks at different angles and settled in the dark. There was only a sigh as Donghae reached, his fingers sliding over the back of Hyukjae’s hand, sliding over his wrist and down again. Their fingers settled together, a few of his knuckles over Hyukjae’s, feeling the twitch of skin as they settled together there as well.
It wasn’t just to know Hyukjae was there, because he could feel the depression in the mattress, could feel him breathe deep and slow. It wasn’t even like a child ending comfort. But it was a connection, like he could feel a little golden glow between their skin, knowing if he needed he could burrow against Hyukjae’s body and find safety. He had safety there, the blanket radiating perfect warmth back at him and Hyukjae close.
They could have been on a bed three times as big, he thought, and they still would have ended up like that. Because nothing felt as right as having Hyukjae beside him.
***
Prompt: top!kyuhyun/siwon with fierce yesung. smut please. smut
***
It wasn’t hard to yank a shirt out of a waistband, not when Siwon went pliant from kisses, his fingers reaching for Jongwoon’s hips and trying to hold as sought more of Jongwoon’s mouth. They both moaned when he got Siwon’s pants open, shoving at them, baring him, grinding up against him as his pants fell and Siwon gripped him tight.
At some point what Siwon gave was soft, steady, suave.
Jongwoon aimed to push him past that, nipping at Siwon’s lip as he pulled Siwon on top of him. He widened his thighs, rolled his hips, and ate up each of Siwon’s moans as they stacked heat onto heat. Jongwoon shuddered at the press of Siwon’s fingers, curling his tongue around Siwon’s and moaning at the curl, the slide of those long fingers inside him, until he couldn’t stand it any more.
“Fuck me,” he rasped, and his thighs went wide, wider when Siwon grunted and pressed into him.
That. That was what he wanted. Lying back with his fingers digging into Siwon’s shoulders and all he could hear was the slap of flesh and moans and gasping breaths. He jerked himself off watching the desperate pleasure on Siwon’s sweaty face.
And when he came - when he arched, when he bit to moans and gripped Siwon’s shoulders - he was almost too far gone to be pleased when Siwon groaned for him and followed.
Almost.
***
Prompt: Hi you don't know who this is. MiHae. will accept EunHaeMi. MiHae should be a thing though.
***
There was a way Donghae had of sitting himself into Zhou Mi’s lap that made him impossible to turn away. It was and wasn’t like a cat, the way Donghae looped his arms around Zhou Mi’s neck, the way he nuzzled in for a kiss and waited for Zhou Mi to hitch him closer. He did, his hands spreading on Donghae’s thighs and humming against his mouth. What they’d been thinking about for dinner was momentarily forgotten, the little twitches of Donghae’s hips driving him to distraction until Donghae threw his head back and laughed at the sounds Zhou Mi made.
“What?” Zhou Mi asked, pouting and stroking up Donghae’s back. He didn’t think Donghae would make out with him just to get his way with food but it wasn’t like he needed to when Donghae went all innocent eyed on him.
“What do you want more, food or…?”
“Both. Both would be good,” Zhou Mi said. He reached for a brochure, bopping it against Donghae’s nose. “Pick what you want, and I’ll pay.”
Donghae stayed in Zhou Mi’s lap while he picked. It was a good way of getting what he wanted, too, since they liked about the same thing.
In food, and other things.
***
Prompt: "There will always be that silver line between us." angst, bandfic, Zhou Mi/SJ? thanks <3 (and sorry orz I'm the anon who almost always requests angst ;A;)
***
It wasn’t a gulf, a canyon, a trench. There was not an echo between one side or the other, the need to shout or gesture. It was always different, just a little. They were, and yet they weren’t. They walked down the same path, stood on the same stage, and yet the line, that ugly demarcation, stayed. It had faded, at times, until it was tarnished and nearly indistinguishable. It was better than it had been, when it had been bright and new and sharp, like a blade. Some had said it was a protection, a way to keep them from angering anyone. But the protection had been a lie, and the line had cut deeper than they had realized.
It still glowed brighter, like a promise of what it had been when concert pictures emerged and it was as though they didn’t exist. They were other, different. No matter how successful, how included, no matter how much joy they wrought. Maybe not to everyone. No. Some didn’t see the line, or pretended it wasn’t there, and in times like those he envied them. He wished he couldn’t see it, even while knowing that he wore armor in case, one day, it would inevitably hurt him again. Not as deep as the first, never that deep. But he bore the scars, and he used them as strength.
***
Prompt: Yesung x Mi fluff please? Maybe over how much Jongjin fanboys over Mi？ Thank you ＼(^o^)／
***
His brother was a strange person, and he’d known that from the time he was born. And as soon as he said that, Zhou Mi laughed, bumping his shoulder into Jongwoon’s and just chortling away. Sure, he could talk, like he had a brother.
“I have cousins. Believe me, I understand,” Zhou Mi said, his eyes twinkling.
“Do you know how big a fan he is of you?” Jongwoon wanted to know. It was cute, but a little weird, like he actually hauled his laptop out to show Zhou Mi’s performances to their parents. They were interested, too, of course but Jongjin reacted like he was Zhou Mi’s manager or something. Sometimes he stared at Jongwoon and said, really creepily too, that he should do a duet with Zhou Mi.
“He’s cute,” Zhou Mi said, and completely missed the point.
“Maybe he’d like to have you for a brother instead,” Jongwoon complained.
It was with utter loyalty that Zhou Mi said, “Never.”
And Jongwoon mostly believed it. Jongjin was weird, but he’d been his shadow forever and he didn’t think either of them would change that.
Maybe they were supposed to sing a song together. Zhou Mi just looked curious and clueless when Jongwoon squinted at him. Maybe.
***
Prompt: where zhou mi /despairs/ at SJM's (including Henry's) regression of Chinese language skills, and makes it harder for them during next recording session? like they didnt know Mi was even upset with their chinese skills ~until~ they enter the studio? tq! :)
***
Some of them talked better than others, but he could pretty much see their ability leaking out of their ears. If eh couldn’t hear it, they couldn’t speak it, then he didn’t know how they were going to sing it. And he’d tried really hard to make things simple so they could learn it, so they wouldn’t garble it, so that people wouldn’t make fun of them when they sounded like they were singing nonsense instead of words.
He could actually see their faces start to melt when they listened to his demo, the way their eyes went wide as they stared at the lyrics. They tried to mouth along and the lyrics went streaming by and Zhou Mi sat, smug as the panic started to sink in.
“How—“
“What is this?”
“What did you do?”
He was really, really trying not to laugh when he said, “You’ve been neglecting studying. This isn’t that hard.”
Kyuhyun made some kind of a cawing sound, and Henry was turning the lyrics around like he wasn’t sure which side was right.
“We can’t!”
“You might have to record a hundred and fifty times, but you can.”
“Why didn’t you nag at us instead,” Sungmin muttered.
Zhou Mi lifted his chin. “Do you promise to study hard?”
He got identical promises, some of which he knew would be kept.
And then he passed out a new paper, and turned on the real demo. A little simpler, though not by a whole lot. Maybe they thought they’d been duped, but he was still going to hold them to it.
***
Prompt: Everyone in SJ making a fuss that Mi was the one who got chosen to be on the next season of WGM? Maybe with Teuk/Hee/Kangin/Kyu giving advice? Thanks very much :)
***
The first reaction was a lot of silence, which was mostly just trying to process from what Zhou Mi could tell. There were the ones who wanted to be on the show instead (Hyukjae) and the ones grateful they weren’t chosen (Ryeowook). It was as loud as any announcement ever and Zhou Mi felt like he was in the middle of some whirlpool that they certainly had no control of.
“Is it the international one? Are you going to have a Korean girl? Wait, how is it going to—“
“How many shows are you going to do at once?”
“I wonder if she’ll be cute.”
All the important questions.
“Don’t give her too much attention,” Kyuhyun offered, which gained him a sound round of thumping from everyone within striking distance.
“Get to know her. Maybe they’ll give you someone you can’t talk to,” Heechul said.
Youngwoon had the best offer, “Be her friend. Then it’ll be a lot more fun.”
Their leader had admonitions. Nothing too risqué. Uphold the name! Have fun.
Then the realizations that hey, he was going to be on a show. Who was going to get to be his guests? Zhou Mi sat back and prepared for them to tell him why.
***
Prompt: yewook knotting pls 8D and comeplay? THE DIRTIER THE BETTER HAHAHAHA /not even ashamed and size kink smut
***
If Ryeowook was going to have a knot, he wasn’t going to have a small one. It defeated the purpose of getting filled up and coming with a knot in him if he couldn’t distinguish it from the average toy. There had been any number of alphas that made his cock hard when he got near them, some kind of magnetism about them, but Jongwoon was different. He didn’t just get to spend time around Jongwoon and feel normal, and it didn’t matter what state his hormones were in. He spent most of the time around Jongwoon with his cock tucked up so he didn’t walk around visibly aroused. It could be smelled, no doubt, but the arousal could have been toward anyone - he was an omega, it happened. Though he wondered how many times he could spent a night staring at Jongwoon’s crotch while sending out obvious waves of arousal without Jongwoon catching on. It wasn’t any of the alphas there that got to him, no, just Jongwoon that he wanted to go up to and rub against his leg and beg to be put on his knees so he could worship Jongwoon’s cock in every possible way.
He wasn’t sure what made that night different. His own desperation, the fact that Jongwoon smelled like he was ready to be eaten up or eat someone else up. And Ryeowook wanted it to be him. It was easy to skirt the others, find a way to get closer to Jongwoon in the bar where they’d all gathered. He didn’t just have to sit back and look, having a good time despite wanting desperately. He must have made a sound, nearly close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Jongwoon’s shoulder, because Jongwoon’s head turned, meeting his eyes. His knees locked, his cock pulsing, and he watched Jongwoon inhale, eyes going wider as he abandoned his conversation and turned fully to Ryeowook.
“Kim Ryeowook,” Jongwoon said, and it wasn’t as though they were strangers, Ryeowook angling back his head as though to ask why he was saying his name. Maybe just as a thoughtful thing, an omega putting off very distinctive signs of want. And he proved it by not backing off when Jongwoon stepped right up to him until they were hip against hip, their faces close. They could smell each other, Ryeowook got alpha and man and growing arousal. It took only a little bump forward on Jongwoon’s part to to end the pretend distance between them. His hips moved out of his control, and Jongwoon’s surprised little moan undid him.
“You smell good,” Jongwoon said.
Ryeowook groaned, his hips humping desperately against Jongwoon as his vision blurred, too overcome by Jongwoon’s scent and the feel of his cock through his pants. It was big. He’d known it would be. He knew—
“If you don’t want this all the way,” Jongwoon said, trying to push at Ryeowook’s hips as though to help him keep his senses.
“Please, I want you,” Ryeowook said, waited for Jongwoon to look at him, really look at him, and see. And he parted his lips as Jongwoon kissed him, moaning and meeting his tongue and all but melting against him, grabbing Jongwoon’s hips so he could keep rubbing against Jongwoon’s cock.
“Get a room, you two,” someone said from nearby and Ryeowook moaned in protest of having to let go long enough to. But Jongwoon had one hand cupped on Ryeowook’s neck, and one gripping his ass, and the way he smirked did terrible things to Ryeowook’s cock.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to,” Jongwoon said, though it was very much more said for Ryeowook’s benefit than anyone else’s.
It was the elevator ride that was the worst, worse than checking in to the room, or the walk to it. In the elevator, he had tucked himself under Jongwoon’s arm, smelling against his shirt and staring down at the front of his pants where he could see what he wanted. If he’d had x-ray vision, he could’ve seen Jongwoon’s cock straining against the cloth, but as it was all he could do was imagine and try to hold himself back from pushing Jongwoon back against the elevator wall and having at him.
But the elevator dinged and opened before he could put that thought into motion.
The room itself, not far down the hallway, was plain but functional. There were chairs, one wide bed. On the dresser, a number of lubricants offered for sale, though Ryeowook scoffed at that. As though they would need it, the way he was going to soak through his pants if he was in them much longer.
Jongwoon kissed him, and Ryeowook hummed against his mouth, having varying success as he tugged at the buttons down Jongwoon’s shirt. He didn’t want to just rip it, but on the other hand, the lazier Jongwoon’s kiss got, the more he kind of did.
“Jongwoon.”
He wanted his hands on skin, a lot of it, though none more than the cock he was rocking against.
“I’ll get this,” Jongwoon said, and proved it, starting in on the buttons and leaving Ryeowook’s hands open for other things. Like dropping down onto his knees rubbing his palm against Jongwoon’s cock. All he had was a button, a zipper, and a bit of tugging cloth down, and he was had what he wanted. Jongwoon’s cock had had him impressed just rubbing against him through their pants, but the sight of it, thick and heavy and hard, had him gasping. He wanted to put his mouth on it, so he did, parting his lips over the dark-flushed head and lathing it with his tongue. Pre-come, the tang of it, has his cock throbbing, squirming on his knees as he tried to fit more of Jongwoon’s cock into his mouth. He cursed his straining jaw, wrapping his hands around what he could not take, and moaned as he sucked and inhaled the scent of an alpha. He listened to Jongwoon’s little groans and felt himself dripping. He wanted Jongwoon’s come, wanted to taste it, wanted to feel it all over himself. But most of all, he wanted it inside of himself.
Seeing how little of Jongwoon’s cock he’d been able to wet with his mouth made him dizzy, and he stood, stepping out of his pants and underwear, throwing off his shirt, bare and waiting for Jongwoon to decide what he wanted. If he wanted to fuck Ryeowook’s mouth, fine. If he wanted his ass, Ryeowook was slick and ready.
“How do you want to come?” Jongwoon asked, reaching out and sliding a fingertip up Ryeowook’s aching cock. It twitched as though it wanted to follow that finger back, and Ryeowook swallowed hard. Then it was up to him, and he would show Jongwoon exactly what he wanted.
And Ryeowook crawled onto the bed and stayed knelt, bending over, and lifting his hips. He looked back over his shoulder, ready to beg if he had to. “On your knot.”
“You think it’s going to fit?”
Ryeowook laughed, or tried to, because fuck, what a tease that was, and how smug.
“I want it all,” he said.
He’d wanted it all for too long, and he was so close to getting it. Jongwoon’s knees settled on the outside of his and turned his head back, smiling and relaxing as Jongwoon gripped his ass and got his cock wet and ready. Ryeowook was ready.
“Ohhhh,” Ryeowook moaned, Jongwoon’s cock spreading him open. The stretch of it had him bracing, but he was pushing back for more as Jongwoon tried to rock deeper. He didn’t know what to do, how to focus on anything but getting Jongwoon’s cock inside him. More, the slick press of it, groaning at the sting and at the pressure against his prostate as Jongwoon drew out and pressed in deeper, again, again, until Ryeowook wished he could spread his legs to give Jongwoon more room. But he couldn’t, not trapped as they were between Jongwoon’s. He’d wanted to feel every bit of and he did, crying out as Jongwoon gripped his hips and pushed the rest of the way, sliding in the last thick inches until there was nowhere left to go. He was stretched open, impossibly, Jongwoon’s cock throbbing in him as Jongwoon shifted his hips, experimenting. It felt too good then, and it wasn’t even Jongwoon’s knot, but that was how it was going to feel, Jongwoon’s cock in him, the knot holding it there, tying them.
His long, low moan was luxury, not pain as Jongwoon pulled halfway only to push back just as deep.
“It’s like you’ve never had a cock,” Jongwoon marveled.
Oh he had, he had, but he wouldn’t have bothered with any others if he’d know what Jongwoon’s was like.
“Fuck me, oh, please, Jongwoon.”
It was like Jongwoon hearing his name spurred him, running his hands over Ryeowook’s back and letting his hips taking a slow, deliberate rock. A couple of inches, back and forth, maddening, arousing, a tease when Ryeowook knew he was holding back and not giving him the fucking he’d been wanting. He tried to tighten around Jongwoon, tried to move with him, show him. He was just going to dissolve if Jongwoon didn’t fuck him properly, his cock twitching tight and eager as the sweat of his effort slid down his skin.
“Jongwoon,” he exulted, as Jongwoon began to move, not just a shifting of his hips, but truly beginning to fuck. “Jongwoon!”
“You want this? I had to smell you every time I saw you. Which alphas—“
“None of them,” Ryeowook cried out, rattled by Jongwoon’s thrusts against him, like Jongwoon was trying to erase the imaginary alphas that Ryeowook had been taken by. “I wanted you.”
“Fuck. I’d have knotted you in front of all of them,”Jongwoon said, and grunted as he gripped Ryeowook’s hips and fucked into him quick and hard, their skin slapping together. Ryeowook would have let him. He’d have put on a skirt, done anything if he’d known Jongwoon had been willing. “Who did you have, if none of them?”
“No one,” Ryeowook said. “I went home and rode the biggest toy I owned wishing it was you. But it wasn’t as big as you. Oh.”
Jongwoon’s cock jolted into him and Jongwoon leaned over his back, biting at the curve of his neck and shoulder. “You came thinking of me.”
Ryeowook moaned. “Every— every time.”
Sure he had alphas sniffing around, wanting him, but he’d been waiting for a cock worthy of being knotted by, an alpha able to cover him up and take him like he needed. And fuck, Jongwoon was all of that, fucking him as he imagined Ryeowook coming all over himself as he’d wished for Jongwoon’s cock. And if Jongwoon didn’t come soon, Ryeowook was going to get there before he did.
“Going to knot you,” Jongwoon promised. “Going to come in you. Going to make you come.”
Promises. But Jongwoon was braced over him, fucking the air right out him as his cock seemed to only grow thicker, longer, feeling the struggle as flesh thickened and Jongwoon cried out, gripping Ryeowook’s hips and shoving his cock deep, shoving his hips against Ryeowook’s ass harder, faster, not pulling out but trying to get deeper and Ryeowook gasped as the knot spread him open inside, swelling like it was never going to stop as Jongwoon shuddered and tried to stab deeper.
“Ryeowook,” Jongwoon moaned, and the knot, his cock, began to pulse, coming in him with every jerk of Jongwoon’s body. It made his own cock drip, listening to Jongwoon come, feeling the knot continuing to swell though it seemed impossible. They would going to be tied forever, and the thought made him moan. Jongwoon’s pleased grunts sent sparks of pleasure through him.
“So hot,” Jongwoon said, his breathing more even and his knot pulsing tight. “Do you scream when you…?”
Ryeowook’s body seized when Jongwoon’s hand closed around his cock. Jongwoon laughed above him as Ryeowook tightened desperately around the knot, Jongwoon’s fingers jerking so knowingly on his cock until Ryeowook was babbling with the orgasm trembling in him.
“Jongwoon, Jongwoon, Jong—“
He came on a near-silent keen, feeling Jongwoon’s palm cupped under Ryeowook’s cock, catching all of his come. He was trembling, high from the orgasm and unable to collapse because of the knot and the way he was still trapped between Jongwoon’s legs. His body kept going tight, exploring the knot and what it could do, how good it felt, how dazed it made him.
He felt fingers tracing wet against his skin.
“What are you doing?” Ryeowook asked, his cock still throbbing and hard.
“Writing my name on you. Next time anyone sees you, they’ll smell me on you, but we’ll both know you have me written all over you.”
On his back, on his belly, between his nipples, on his thighs, along his neck, he felt Jongwoon’s fingers trace and swirl. He wondered if Jongwoon actually wrote anything but it didn’t matter because Ryeowook felt every stroke of Jongwoon’s name on him, claiming him, stating that Jongwoon had been there, had pleased him, and hadn’t stopped. And Ryeowook gasped as Jongwoon didn’t just wipe his hand clean, but the come he hadn’t used to write and claim, Jongwoon smeared it all over his cock and began to jerk him off without mercy as Ryeowook cried out and clutched around his knot and tried to fuck into Jongwoon’s hand.
Ryeowook arched his back, exclaiming as he came into Jongwoon’s palm a second time. But Jongwoon didn’t spread it onto his cock and keep stroking, he lifted his hand and cupped it againstRyeowook’s mouth and spoke low into his ear.
“Lick it clean. Eat it all up. Pretend it’s mine.”
But Jongwoon wasn’t patient, rubbing his hand all over Ryeowook’s lips, his chin, his cheeks, smearing Ryeowook’s come all over his face as Ryeowook desperately licked at Jongwoon’s palm. He’d smell of his own come, of Jongwoon’s inside him, and Jongwoon wasn’t through with him yet, lifting his hips with the knot straining in him and forcing his knees wide so that Jongwoon settled above him, with Ryeowook groaning, flat on the bed beneath him. He didn’t know why, not until Jongwoon began to rock against his ass, and Ryeowook gasped as the knot inside him ground against his prostate even as the motion of Jongwoon’s body forced his cock to rub against the damp sheets.
Ryeowook moaned and writhed, indignant sounds of pleasure leaving him as Jongwoon scratched along his skin, burrowing his hands to pinch at Ryeowook’s nipples and leaning to kiss against his neck, breathing there so heavily as Ryeowook was surrounded by him. Ryeowook wailed as he spilled against the sheets and Jongwoon only rocked against him faster, the wet making it easier as his balls ached and tightened.
“You sound amazing when you come,” Jongwoon said, and it had him moaning, trying to prepare himself for the onslaught because he knew Jongwoon wasn’t satisfied.
“Jongwoon,” he gasped, and he gripped the sheets and for a moment, a surfeit of pleasure dancing behind his eyes, knew the length of Jongwoon’s cock in him, the whole of it, and Jongwoon’s knot had him coming against the sheets again.
Ryeowook was whimpering, his heart thundering against the mattress and his belly wet, but Jongwoon was mostly still, braced above him and kissing against his skin. Licking against the come he’d smeared there maybe, and that caused a different kind of sound, involuntarily tightening around Jongwoon’s knot.
It had him grinning in exhausted satisfaction, not caring if Jongwoon saw and hoping he did, because he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and was already thinking of having Jongwoon again. For then, he was content to drift with Jongwoon still in him, breathing against him, holding him.
***
Prompt: catboy!henry going in heat. his owner is either hae or wook smut
***
Henry woke in a sweat, and it was a growl that left him, not a purr when he rolled onto his belly and trapped his hard cock against the mattress. He wiggled his underwear down, all he was wearing, and the cool of the sheet helped for only a moment. He was wet, the slick apparent as he moved, an ache in his balls, an ache to be filled and a bed suspiciously empty of a human to help him. He wriggled out of his underwear slowly, moaning at the friction on his cock, and he drew his knees up under himself, widening them and moaning as he left a place so he could be filled and covered.
“Donghae!” A shout. A groan maybe. Whatever it was, he heard footsteps, he knew when Donghae was there, when he saw. “Please.”
He wiggled his hips, so obvious what he needed.
“So soon,” Donghae said, and Henry wanted to laugh. Yeah, it’d been a week, maybe, since the last time, but that didn’t make him want less. Or make Donghae want less, as he listened to Donghae breathing hard as he got up on the bed behind him. He whimpered as Donghae rubbed his hands over his back, his sides, his thighs. Two fingers rubbed through the wet, testing, and Henry moaned because it wasn’t enough.
But Donghae’s cock was, like a live wire pressed against him, getting harder by the second as Henry rocked back against him and tried to get Donghae inside him.
“Are you going to fuck me or just rub me until I come,” Henry pouted, grumbling, swaying. He’d been so blissed out the last time, on his back with Donghae all hot between his thighs, and Donghae’s fingers rubbing his ears. Donghae did it just to make him purr, he knew it.
“Can you come like that?” Donghae asked, almost sounding intrigued.
“I don’t want to find out right now,” Henry said, and lifted his hips in demand.
He got hands, warm hands, that gripped his hips, after Donghae’s cock was pressed against him. And those hands pulled his hips back as Donghae’s hard cock slid into him. Henry gurgled as every deeper press had his cock jerking against his belly, dripping and so close. Donghae nudged in. Further. Wiggling hips and little jolts until he couldn’t move further - and it took one stroke of Donghae’s hand along Henry’s cock before he was bucking and clutching and coming in Donghae’s hand. He was groaning, angry, and Donghae fucked him through it, laughing, bastard, gripping Henry’s cock that was still hard, still ready,
“So wet,” Donghae admired, and Henry wanted to bite him. A cat in heat, who knew, and Donghae wasn’t getting him off like he—
Henry gasped as Donghae’s hand took three quick jerks along his cock and he was moaning into the pillow all over again.
“How many times are you going to come before your heat breaks this time?” Donghae asked. Henry shook his head, not knowing. “Well, that’s two.”
He did purr when Donghae leaned all the way across his back and nuzzled against his cheek. And a minute later, it was three.
***
Prompt: Welcome back! Hope you're doing well. I missed reading your work these days. Can I request a prompt where SJ thinks Mi's muscles are just for show and challenge him to arm wrestling contest but all ended up loosing? Thank you ~
***
“All show, no substance.”
Zhou Mi chuckled, the sound lazy as he looked over his adversaries. Oh. Well, if they wanted to think that, sure. They hadn’t been in the gym with him, hadn’t seen the things he did to get those showpieces. But unlike something gilt, he had the real deal underneath.
“I’ll go first,” Kyuhyun said, not waiting for anyone else to make up their mind. Good choice. Comparable arm length, hands. Kyuhyun’s face was set as Donghae hovered over them like some kind of referee.
And Zhou Mi had Kyuhyun’s hand on the table in less than two seconds, bending it down like a dandelion stem.
“Ow!” Kyuhyun said, and danced up off the chair, shaking his hand. Zhou Mi smirked, and harder when it was clear it was Kyuhyun’s pride that was hurt. Hyukjae slid across from him next, eyebrows waggling as they clasped hands. Clash of the 86 line. Hyukjae’s face twisted as they started. He grunted. He cawed. His knuckles hit the table and Zhou Mi was victorious.
Zhou mi shook out his arm, looking to see who else wanted to try.
Everyone oohed and ached as Youngwoon sat across from him. A worthy opponent. They stared at each other over their hands, the light of battle in their eyes. At first, oh, at first he felt the give, mustering his strength and using that momentum to throw Youngwoon off, to make him waver, to hover halfway down as Zhou Mi wheezed—
And the whole room erupted when Zhou Mi won.
They crowned him with an empty box and fed him a cookie. Just for show indeed.
***
Prompt: SJM raiding Mi's closet for airport fashion? Thank you!!!
***
It was all well and good when they were let loose in his clothes collection, but while there were a very limited number of up front restriction, he reserved the right to veto some selections. To a one when he did so they questioned his fashion choices, and Zhou Mi had to point out that they were standing in his closet, one of them, so they could hardly talk. But most of it was just fn. Seeing how they mauled through it, holding up hangers, examining hats, pushing things against each other’s chest or posing in front of the mirror to see what looked good.
“Did you make this?” Kyuhyun asked, sly, seeing some fringe on the edge of a shirt.
“No, I bought it like that,” Zhou Mi asked. And then, h wondered if it looked bad enough for Kyuhyun to ask. “Why?”
Kyuhyun shook his head very innocently, and put it back, opting instead for something that was…striped.
And Henry had four hats on his head, one of Zhou Mi’s scarves draped around his neck and over his arms like some kind of snake. Zhou Mi wasn’t even going to say anything.
Donghae had pulled something with a lion on it. Not bad. Sungmin’s had little flecks of metal sewn into it. One of his favorites. A great find. Hyukjae had actually pulled one of Zhou Mi’s self-decorated shirts and Zhou Mi stared, daring Kyuhyun to say even one word.
Hyukjae seemed satisfied, so there was that. And they were all going to look wonderful for their trip. Zhou Mi settled back, pleased.
***
Prompt: where SJ/M all had to practice running in heels before debut? (and heechul RULES in them? xD) thanks!
***
Back and forth. And then back again. And forth. And so forth.
Luckily the heels weren’t all that tall, and people kept joking that it wasn’t all that bad because they were used to shoe lifts. But shoe lifts were at least wide and the shoe under that determined the stability. It felt like their ankles were wobbly, the found under their feet unsteady. It wasn’t as bad as stilts or some kind of unicycle. Though when everyone else was wobbling around or trying to lumber and slink along, Heechul was stomping up and down the room like he was walking in boots instead of heels.
Hyukjae was trying to stride along, and even with that, Heechul passed him, sneering. “You have to figure out how to move,” Heechul said. “Balance. Move!”
It got no better when they had to run, a big hulking group of men either trying to come down hard on the heel or tiptoe along. Siwon looked like he was a comic book villain and Donghae went straddle legged like he thought that was going to bring him balance.
There was no one in the room who normally wore heels, so there was that. At least they could suffer their embarrassment in— in the relative silence of Heechul’s laughter.
***
Prompt: Can I ask for something where the members are commenting on Mi's performance on Dream Team? (I just finished watching the second episode and I'm so full of feels rn). Thank you T^T
***
“Next time we get together in winter, we should get a sleigh so you can pull us around,” was the first thing Zhou Mi heard. But it was Heechul. So if he’d have had anything other than a balled up sock he’d have thrown it, but instead he laughed and tried to imagine that. They could have all the reindeer. Heechul would probably insist on being Santa. Though that left the elves.
“I just want to play in the pool. You did okay,” Kyuhyun said. High praise as Zhou Mi lifted an eyebrow at him. “Though the best part was you waking up—“
“Kyuhyun started laughing asking where your shirt was,” Donghae put in, earning him a solid slap and jeers as Kyuhyun started waving his hands like he’d been misunderstood.
“One night and—“
“You’re a beast,” Youngwoon said, totally ignoring Kyuhyun trying to save himself and patting Zhou Mi’s shoulder.
Well. He was just going to stay with Youngwoon then, leaning back next to him and preening.
“Did you see all the comments after? You totally won them over.”
He was just glad to be in a place where he didn’t have to win over anyone. He was just with people where he could be himself.
***
Prompt: MiMin based on this http://mingteukies.tumblr.com/post/80705557619/precious-mimi-watching-over-tired-ming? Please and Thank You :)
***
None of them, on little sleep, were particularly paragons of self care. It was be upright, but not necessarily having a lot of steering, or face control. Face masks helped. Sunglasses. Leashes. Zhou Mi had seen Donghae careen right over a chair one time, rubbing at his eyes one moment and nearly faceplanting the next. Sungmin nestled up against his side like an unsteady penguin, and Zhou Mi wrapped an arm around him. He passed along warmth, stability, and maybe a reminder that Sungmin wasn’t the only one up and moving at such an ungodly time of the day.
“Why do you look so cheerful,” Sungmin grumbled, and Zhou Mi swallowed the laugh, tipping down his sunglasses and letting Sungmin see just how cheerful he looked.
“Illusion,” he whispered, and for some reason that perked Sungmin up a little, sharing their misery while everyone got their stuff settled and tried to get themselves arranged so they could head into the airport together. They’d already played a round of who got to sit by the member of their choice, or rather, who got to sleep by the person they wanted to sleep on was more like it. If anyone was awake through the whole trip, he’d be surprised.
But by the time they went across, Sungmin had gotten his bearings, and Zhou Mi was happy to walk alongside him.
***
Prompt: A prompt... girl!Heechul and Zhou Mi? Please?
***
It was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t that Heechul had watched the movie a few dozen times, because Zhou Mi had really only seen her watching it a couple of times. Then again, she wore headphones so who knew. The songs were everywhere, of course, some kind of fascination with them that Zhou Mi acknowledged, accepted, occasionally hummed along to. He’d seen the movie in the theater once, because he was a good boyfriend. Occasionally a long-suffering one, but then again, Heechul put up with a lot too, so they gave and took.
Still, when he came home and a Disney princess was occupying the kitchen instead of his girlfriend, Zhou Mi completely paused and shut down.
“Heechul?” Zhou Mi inquired, and when Heechul preened a little bit, Zhou Mi continued, “Or…Anna?”
Heechul actually laughed, twirling in her new dress. “Great, right?”
“Are you going to watch the movie dressed like that?” Zhou Mi asked.
They were going out to dinner, so his real question was: Are you going on a date with me dressed like that?
“Should I get you a—“
“Unless you want to dress me up as a reindeer, probably not,” Zhou Mi quipped.
Then again. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that because she went a bit thoughtful.
He really did go to the next costume party they went to with sparkly horns on his head.
***