16 Works by cyupids
Listing Works
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There are rules about these things, understood even if they are never said out loud by anyone, that alphas shouldn't look at each other romantically. Biology isn’t built for two storms colliding, no natural give, no soft place to land.
Knowing that doesn’t stop anything. If anything, it makes it worse.
Sungchan is hard to ignore—loud when he wants to be, annoyingly gentle when he isn't, always taking up space like the world collectively agreed and decided to make room for him. It gets under Anton’s skin like an itch he can’t scratch without making it bleed.
Anton is in love with Sungchan. Sungchan is an alpha. Anton is an alpha, too. You can see how this would be a problem.
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Jeno closes the notebook, setting it gently on his lap. “You’re always so mean to him. Why do you even care?”
“He’s bringing down my fucking aura,” Chenle says. “He’s obsessed. He stalks me on every app. He keeps, like—” He stops, unable to say it, unable to come out with what’s been bothering him, the words jamming up behind his teeth. “He keeps asking me to hang out. For no reason. Just to, like, be around me.”
“That’s kind of nice, isn’t it? He wants to spend time with you. Maybe he just thinks you’re cool.”
Series
- Part 2 of momentum
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He’s not supposed to want it, not from Jeno; not from Donghyeok either, but at least with Donghyeok it’s allowed to be ugly. Jaemin pictures it anyway, burying his hands in Donghyeok’s hair and twisting hard enough to hurt, grinding him into the bed until he’s red in the face, until he can’t get words out, just little noises. He thinks of having Jeno like that, for a thrilling second.
“Hey,” Donghyeok says, voice so thin it barely counts as sound.
Jaemin's always been greedy.
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Anton’s mouth opens, then closes. He looks Sohee up and down, gaze sticking on his throat, his jaw, then back to his eyes.
There’s a beat of silence, heavy and pulsing, and then Anton blurts, so fast he almost trips on the consonants: “I can’t knot anymore.”
Sohee, who’d been braced for an awkward confession—maybe a secret crush, maybe some embarrassing group dynamic shit—just stares at him. “What?”
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Sohee’s not obsessed. He’s not even nosy. He’s just got questions that will probably never be answered, and that’s what rankles him the most.
He wants to know if Anton read the manual or just winged it, if he tried it standing or lying down, if he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making noise. He wants to ask if it worked, if it was everything the glossy marketing promised, if it made him come so hard he had to muffle the sound in his sleeve. But he’s not a freak. He’s normal and respectful and he's not going to keep an eye on Anton every time he leaves his room just to see if he emerges looking—different.
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Chenle jerks back, spitting, half-coughing, half-shouting. “What the fuck?” he says, voice pure panic, but before he can really get his bearings, Jisung has his hands up, apologizing, words falling out of his mouth faster than he can shape them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know, I just—fuck, I’m sorry—”
Chenle wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving. He looks furious. He swings a fist at Jisung’s stomach, hard enough to make him double over, and Jisung gasps and drops to his knees, still mumbling apologies, head spinning with the aftershock.
“I’ll kill you,” Chenle says, voice ragged. “I’ll actually fucking kill you.”
Jisung's kind of obsessed with his roommate.
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“Can you cut the shit,” he says, not even trying to keep his voice down, “and just tell me what exactly you want from me?”
Jaemin’s mouth does that little twist, like he’s folding up a secret. “Is it really that complicated?” he says, voice syrupy and quiet.
Donghyeok’s skin goes tight, scalp prickling. “You’re messing with me. You get that, don’t you? You keep pulling this—this psychotic stuff, and then you act like you’re doing me a favor.”
The intern at Donghyeok's work place is causing problems.
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It’s not about dominance, or—not just that. It’s about hunger and curiosity, about the way Chenle’s scent lingers on his skin for hours, about how the memory of Chenle’s laugh at four a.m. tastes almost sweeter than the real thing. Donghyeok wants to ruin him and put him back together, wants to fuck him until the line between them is erased and all that’s left is the tangled aftermath, until they smell so blended that people can’t pick apart their own individual scents anymore.
Most of all, he wants to see what Chenle looks like when he actually loses. When the mask drops and the soft, shivery thing underneath is so raw there’s no hiding it.
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second-hand smoke by ankabut (cyupids)
Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Fantastic Four
02 Dec 2025
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More importantly, he's naked. Completely, horrifyingly naked. And the body he's looking down at isn't his.
"What—" Peter chokes, and even his voice is wrong—deeper, smoother.
He scrambles out of bed, nearly tripping over his own—no, not his—feet, which are bigger and attached to longer legs than he's used to. The floor beneath him is heated marble, because of course it is. He staggers across the room, drawn to a wall of mirrors that line what appears to be a walk-in closet the size of his entire apartment.
The reflection staring back at him isn't Peter Parker. It's Johnny Storm.
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Donghyeok looks down at her hands, fingers picking at a loose thread on her comforter. "I've given it some thought."
"Someone we both know?" Chenle's heartbeat quickens, a sudden thump-thump-thump against his ribs.
"Yeah." She nods, still not meeting his eyes. "I think it would be easier that way."
"Who?" The single syllable feels like a stone in his throat.
"I was thinking Jisung," she says.
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easy, steady by ankabut (cyupids)
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
06 Oct 2025
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The loss makes Shang Qinghua whimper, but he knows what's coming. He hears the snap of the bottle cap, the slick sounds as Shen Yuan prepares himself. His heart pounds so loudly he's sure Shen Yuan can hear it too.
"Wait, would he use extra lube? Or a condom?" Shen Yuan asks, dropping character again, and Shang Qinghua wants to scream with frustration. “Do they have condoms?”
"Yes! No, no fucking condom, just—please—I'm going to die if you don't—ah!"
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we're the lifers by ankabut (cyupids)
Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Fantastic Four
16 Aug 2025
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"Does kissing friends also go against the best friend code?"
Peter freezes, brain short-circuiting for a beat. In that fraction of hesitation he catches the faint downturn of Johnny’s mouth, the way his gaze flickers away like he’s already bracing for rejection.
"No," Peter blurts, a little too fast, straightening from the wall. "Definitely not. I mean—no rule against it. At all. Zero rules, actually."
Peter Parker is used to unpredictable. What he's not used to is a powerless Johnny Storm crashing on his couch.
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"Put them on," he says, voice low. It's not a request.
Donghyeok's fingers tighten around the fabric, wrinkling it further. Her chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, and a flush spreads across her cheeks. She doesn't move.
"Now," Jaemin adds, stepping closer. There's nowhere for her to go—the wall is at her back, the toilet to her side. "Unless you want to go back to the table without them."
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“Okay,” Mark says, and he grabs his hand. He holds on for a second, sweaty palms connecting, and he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t stand up either. “Jeno. I–”
A mosquito lands on the back of Mark’s hand. With decisiveness, Jeno puts his phone in his pocket and smacks the mosquito. “Ew,” he says, his nose wrinkling. He tugs Mark up, bicep flexing slightly, and offers him another smile. “Sorry about that, hyung. What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” Mark says. He watches their hands, still together. He stares at the squished remains of the mosquito on his hand, a splat of red and black against the warm tan of his skin.
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The next stop brings more passengers. The space around them shrinks until Donghyeok finds himself facing the window, back to the crowd, Jaemin positioned directly behind him. Just like yesterday. Today, though, Jaemin doesn't wait for the pretense of a train jolt. His hand slides deliberately around Donghyeok's hip, fingers splaying across his lower abdomen.
"I thought about you last night," Jaemin murmurs, lips brushing Donghyeok's ear.
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He clenches his jaw, staring down at Jisung, who’s still on the floor like some lovesick idiot. His glasses are still crooked, his stupidly long limbs sprawled out, his eyes wide and waiting. He looks too open, too willing, like he’d let Chenle do just about anything to him if it meant getting to stay close.
It pisses Chenle off.
Not because he’s disgusted—he’s not homophobic, you know—but because it does something weird to him. He’s flattered, to be honest, and although he’s straight, there’s something ego-feeding about knowing someone wants him so bad they’d be willing to take anything he gave them, including something measly and terrible and foot-job-esque.
Series
- Part 1 of momentum