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“Slutty,” Jeongin forces out. It comes out rough, but Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind. He just grins. The boyishness of it, a delicious contrast to everything else going on. He looks down at himself nonchalantly and shrugs, “wait ’til you see the other two.”
Well, of course, Felix and Jisung were going to dress up slutty. That was a given. He just hadn’t expected Seungmin to … to …
Seungmin is leaning against the kitchen island opposite him, watching him. There’s even fake blood splattered from his neck to his cheekbone, Jeongin notices. He swallows dry.
“What about you, father?” he asks before Jeongin can come up a response of his own.
For a moment, he blanks, before he remembers his own costume and tries to ignore the way his stomach lurches at that word on Seungmin’s lips.
it's halloween. jeongin's dressed as a priest. seungmin is dressed like a demon. and he acts like one, too.
OR when you're so in love that you forget about your already half-assed priest and devil roleplay halfway through
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It’s only him, Felix and one of their managers in the car when it happens.
When the random person in a non-descript brown hoodie walks past the cracked window of the car as it idles at a stoplight and the whole car suddenly fills with the sickly, sticky scent of flowers.
The smell is pungent—so much so that it makes manager Jinwoo cough and Felix retch and exclaim a ragged "fucking hell" in English. Their manager rolls down all the windows, and it feels like a relief, despite the smoggy Seoul air. It clears the worst of the scent out of the confined space of the car, but it still lingers in Chan’s nose, covering the back of his throat. Even twenty minutes later, when they finally roll into the garage of Felix's dorm, he can still taste it, like it’s sitting right under his tongue, coats his teeth, makes his saliva feel sticky and sweet.
OR
chan and felix get sex pollened. chan, who's been sick with yearning for felix for so many years, doesn't even notice a difference - until changbin, hyunjin and jisung come to get him because felix will not let anyone help him but chan.
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“Are you not going home?”
“Nah,” Jeongin throws back easily. Jisung cracks an eye open, watches as he stretches lazily, collapsing with his arms sticking awkwardly over the back of the crate-and-cushion construction they cobbled together a year and a half ago and have since lovingly been calling their patio set. None of them will be able to take it with them, and really, realistically, none of them would want. The cheap wood is getting warped, the cushions are sun-bleached. But still … Jisung traces the frayed edges under his fingertips, pokes his finger into a little hole. He wonders if the people moving into their place after them will lie here on summer nights just like they did. If it will all feel the same for them. Or if they were special. “I’m just gonna stick it out here, I think. Nothing for me to go back to," Jeongin continues.
Hyunjin hums. He takes a swig of his beer. Jisung’s little toe itches.
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He's at a table with his friends. They're sitting there and drinking and talking and Jisung's legs are spread, and his cock is hard, straining and twitching against his jeans where he had tucked it up and to the side to be less conspicuous. He can see it. It's right there. Under his eyes, it twitches. He rocks his hips. Nobody notices. He keeps going. Small, barely noticeable movements, but it's enough to make the toy slip in and out of himself. God. Fuck. He's fucking himself. He's looking at his own hard cock as he's fucking himself. In a bar. In front of everyone. A helpless whimper bubbles out of his throat. Not loud enough to be heard over the thumping of the music, but loud enough for Minho to hear, for his head to snap up.
OR
when jisung comes in his pants in front of all his friends - and likes it
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"Can I call you later?"
In his defense, he does look apologetic. And some other day this might have worked, been enough to make Seungmin happy, a vague promise of later enough for a normal amount of horniness or frustration—but not today. Changbin doesn’t know that today is different.
Seungmin shakes his head. He instinctively moves forward, his body wanting to close the gap to Changbin’s, but he thinks better of it at the last second, pressing himself back against the door. Changbin likes it when he’s good, and right now, he needs Changbin to want him, or he might die. Changbin watches him, his eyes widening a fraction. Seungmin’s dick presses against the zipper of his jeans.
“C-can’t wait,” Seungmin somehow manages. He shifts from one foot to the other, his hands flex where they’re still trapped behind him. “I need it. Really bad … please.”
That last word … it makes Changbin’s eyebrows shoot up so high it’s almost annoying. He doesn’t have to make that big of a deal out of it, dammit.
OR
seungmin wants changbin's dick and he wants it NOW.
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“I can never wait when it comes to you,” Minho responds.
“Not true,” Jisung says with a laugh. It’s the flustered kind. Minho can see it, painted onto the back of his eyelids when he blinks. “You waited. Isn’t that how this…” he pauses for effect, emphasising the words left unsaid, the kind of words Jisung uses when he’s feeling particularly romantic (which is, of course, all the time. Minho’s boy has a diet built on sweet treats and romance)—we, us, our relationship, our love, our star-crossed story—“…lasted?”
OR: Minho and Jisung take the scenic route to forever.
Bookmarked by skzms
14 Jan 2026
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“It helps me focus,” Chan explained when Felix made him talk about it. It had been weeks at that point of Felix getting off and Chan brushing him away with a little smile when he reached for him, distracting Felix with a kiss or a change in subject as if anything could detract Felix from the cloying reminder of Chan’s pleasure still sitting out of reach.
“It helps you focus,” Felix repeated, not entirely sure what he was saying.
or: Chan engages in long-term, self-inflicted blueballing. Felix is a willing, somewhat enthusiastic participant.
Bookmarked by skzms
06 Jan 2026
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Vanilla pierced the air. This time, Jisung could scarcely trace any of its familiar elements. It was too bitter, overpowering in all the worst ways, and Jisung's heart plunged into his stomach. Acid ate away at the organ, but Jisung could still feel it roaring in his ears, his throat.
He gulped, and a mouthful of rancid vanilla coursed through him. Jisung's scent flared in response. A deep inquietude embedded its talons into him, submerging deep enough to rile Jisung's omega. It thrashed inside—a trapped wolf prepared to gnaw through a limb to escape.
Minho. Have to find Minho.
or five times jisung notices the shifts in minho's scent and the one time it makes him go feral
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Bookmarked by skzms
06 Jan 2026
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“This year,” Jisung shakes his leg for a second, before pushing out of the chair entirely to stand. “This year, Esquire told me they want something new. Something avant garde, something that has never been seen before. They want a moment that shocks people, and they want to do it in a 16 picture spread.”
A 16 picture spread is massive - Minho was expecting maybe five, and he can see Mija’s shock out of the corner of his eye. Jisung smirks and rests his weight on his hands against the edge of the table.
“I told them I wanted to choose my model and set my own timeline. I’ve got the budget and connections, I just need the perfect muse. That’s where you come in, Minho-ssi.”
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Bookmarked by skzms
06 Jan 2026
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Acclaimed television director Bang Chan’s newest drama is billed as a romance; his first foray into the genre.
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Bookmarked by skzms
06 Jan 2026
