#but they are only getting a little judged

[ttjisung]

BABY l. jeno

camboy!lee jeno x fem!reader

in which jeno finds it easier to destress himself on stream, that is until you catch him

cw: MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, squirting, another haechan feature cause i want him lowkey, generally inappropriate things lol idk how else to describe it! this wasn't proof read so beware of spelling mistakes (wc: 3k)

If you were to be asked, you’d confidently describe your relationship with Lee Jeno as trustworthy – loyal, even. Yet the truth was that Jeno had a secret he had been keeping for years now, one so outlandish it sounds straight out of a girl’s wet dream. It wasn’t that he thought you’d judge him, he just worried you’d ask him the origins of his secret, and he’d have to explain that it became his channel to take out some stress because of you.

Jeno’s secret was simple and straightforward – for the past year or two, he’d hide out at his apartment every weekend alone, turning on his web-camera and becoming a new identity. He hated calling himself a camboy, seeing it as an impeachment on his own self. Camboy felt too official, he was just a horny young adult looking for a way to let it out. That being said, what complicated the situation was that you were the cause of his need to do so. All of the times you’d compliment him after he’d send a workout selfie, so oblivious to the gym roleplay he’d act out later on, wishing his hand was you in tight shorts and a sports bra. Even something so innocent as saying his hair was cute had him thrusting into his palm and pulling on his own hair in the late hours, acting like it was you in front of him, instead of the hundreds of nameless accounts that would flood his chat. 

Jeno swore he’d get away with his little double-life, knowing you’d be caught in a grave before HotLonelyStuds. That’s why his own world came crashing down on himself during a hangout, when Lee Haechan approached him privately, an evil grin on his obnoxious face. “I have a confession.” The way he stated it seemed genuine, yet the way his eyes glinted towards the older male let him know his intentions were anything but. 

“Go ahead.” “Head? I’m sure that’s what you want, Dr. Lee.” Jeno’s heart dropped at the implication behind the sentence, way too specific to pass as a normal sexual innuendo. It was only when Haechan opened his phone up to his Twitter likes, already flooded with several homemade pornos, pointing out the most recent. Jeno wasn’t even aware that people were reuploading his clips – he swore it was a privacy breach, not allowed on the website he used. He recognized the specific stream, a night where he felt particularly needy. You had told him about a physical you received at your latest doctors’ appointment, and his fantasies ran wild. Admittedly, it wasn’t normal to feel so horny because of something so simple, yet as soon as he imagined himself on top of you, stripping you slowly on a patient’s bed, there was no going back. Albeit weird, he swore there was nothing special about the clip until Haechan clicked on it, of course he did. 

“Fuck… Need you so bad, baby. Let Dr. Lee take care of you.” Jeno’s voice was hoarse, ringing from above as his camera panned down to his cock that was already out of his white dress pants and leaking in his hand. He flicked his wrist gently, agonizingly slow, taking his time and imagining it was your small, delicate hand instead. In his daze, his thumb unconsciously ran over his tip, forcing a gasp out of his throat, alongside an uncontrolled small whisper of your name. The whisper was so light, it could easily be played off as an incoherent moan to anyone else, yet Haechan (who swore up and down that Jeno was in love with you) begged to differ.

“Why did you even watch all of it to find that out, perv.” Jeno’s first response was defense, trying to play it off and even pass the shame onto Haechan. What he should’ve taken into account was that if there was one word to describe the male, it’d be shameless. “Eh, ‘was bored. What matters here is you, Dr. Lee, and your infatuation with a little someone-” 

“Who?” You spoke up behind the two, frowning at the way Haechan jumped up and immediately turned his phone off. “Hey, I wanna see.” You whined, saddened at the fact that you were out of the loop. “It was porn.” Haechan was quick to yell out, patting Jeno on the back and rushing back into the living room. 

“Were you actually watching that stuff, Jen? I don’t care but like… You told me you don’t.” The disdain in your voice assured Jeno about one thing – you could never know the truth. Not only would it freak you out, he felt as though you’d be offended that he’s been lying to you about how truly sexual he is. Being the only two of your friend group that didn’t continuously sleep around, you felt even more connected with him when he’d back you up, telling you it’s normal to be reserved at your age; making you think he relates, when the truth was that as soon as you’d go home and his lights would turn off, his camera would turn on. 

“No, of course not baby. He was just being weird.” The way the familiar nickname rolled out of his mouth smoothly assured you, and you simply nodded with a small grin. “What were you up to before Hyuck flashed you?” You giggled at your own word choice, moving away from Jeno to open the fridge. “Not much, ‘was honestly waiting for you to realize I was gone and look for me.” For some reason, an unusual feeling of unease washed over him at your reaction to his words. You took it lightly, like you take everything. No matter how shamelessly he’d flirt with you, you’d always just smile and look away until the conversation would stray elsewhere. He was sick of acting like it didn’t affect him to see you dismiss him so easily, yet he supposed it was partly his fault, as he never clarified that he meant what he said – you probably just assumed he didn’t. 

“Wanna escape to my place? I’m honestly a bit bored.” Jeno wasn’t bored, he just wanted you all to himself, truthfully. “Sorry, Jen. I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m only halfway done. I was about to head out. Maybe another time?” He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with a shaky breath. Embarrassed from your reoccuring denial, he decided he’d go home anyway.  He had a new idea for a stream anyway, one that projected your relationship as loudly as the rest. It never hurts to do an extra video or two, knowing the pocket change he’d make could serve to take you out for a pastry. 

Tonight, the roles were reversed on HotLonelyStuds, as Jeno’s hand stroked himself quickly, moaning at the sensation. “Take it, fuck. Take it all. Rejecting me when you know you want me? Could’ve been us right now, baby.” His words were muffled, his teeth gritting in an unnaturally stressed way as his other hand reached his throat, pressing harshly. This stream was particularly rough, and although he’d refuse, Jeno knew the true reasoning behind his labored actions. He knew the truth was that he was sick of you ignoring him, when he was always there. Every time you’d complain about your lack of experience, every time you’d cry to him about feeling immature, he wanted to scream in your face that he’s right here! He always has been right there, pliant and willing to help you overcome your inexperience. 

The frustration built more and more, and before Jeno knew it he had come twice, painting his already covered abs white. On his third, he was too immersed to notice the familiar jingle of your spare key – the one he had given you as soon as he moved into his new apartment, letting you know you were welcome any time. 

Clearly, that might’ve not been the case as a loud gasp escaped you. Not bothering to knock on Jeno’s bedroom door, not even having heard his loud groans, you were welcomed with the sight of his heavy dick in his hands, upper body completely bare. Jeno’s eyes were held shut with pleasure until he recognized a stream of light on him that hadn’t been there before, the buzz of his hallway lamp amplifying the already-deafening silence that the two of you shared as you finally made eye contact. In shock, Jeno couldn’t bring himself to cover up. It wasn’t until you shrieked and ran out of the room that he pulled his pants back up, shutting the stream off with no explanation and running after you.

“Baby… I swear it’s not what you think-” “I know what I saw, Jen…” Your frown was making him panic, and he felt tears brimming in his eyes at your words. He was so fucked. “I just… Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t care-” “That’s the problem!” Sick of ignoring the obvious, he moved next to you, holding both your wrists in desperation. “You never care. Fuck, you don’t even care right now that you saw my dick out. Even less, that it was because of you.” His words sparked confusion in you, understanding what he was saying but refusing to believe what he insinuated. Surely, Lee Jeno hadn’t been fucking himself in front of a camera because of you. How would that even work?

“I don’t even care anymore, either, Y/n. Don’t care that you caught me, because maybe at least for those three seconds that you saw me, you might’ve had a small part of you in your head saying it’s hot.” “I don’t get it, Jen.” “Yes, you do.”

It wasn’t until you felt Jeno’s breath on your face that you realized how close he had truly gotten, and it was only when he grabbed your wrists that you realized, maybe it doesn’t feel so bad to be held by him like that.

Against your better judgement, your next action was brash as you cupped his face, pulling him in towards yours. The kiss was messy, Jeno’s teeth biting your lips until they began to feel sore. His arm snaked behind your back, lessening the space between you until there was nothing. “Gonna show you what I’ve been doing, baby. All for you.” “W-wait, Jen.” Before he could even push you onto the couch behind you, you pulled away. With every step you took, Jeno’s heart broke more, and his anger grew. Who were you to kiss him, and then reject him not even a minute later? 

In his fury, Jeno failed to realize what you were truly doing until your hand found his and you led him back to his room. His mind became foggy once he saw you approach his computer, searching for something. “Where is it, Jen?” “Where’s what, baby?” “The camera.” At your words, his eyes widened. There was no way you were really doing what he thought you were doing. There was no way you were going to let him fuck you in front of his viewers. 

Feeling as though the opportunity would pass at any second, Jeno jumped up quickly, gently pushing you aside to open the website and program the webcam to turn on. Soon after, the red flickering light on his computer confirmed the fact that it was on, and his hands were back on you, sliding down towards the back of your thighs and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss grew heavy once more, Jeno so focused that he didn’t even give context to his viewers who had never seen him with another girl before. Had he read the chat though, he’d be pleasantly surprised to see the positive feedback. Maybe he would’ve even seen Haechan’s texts that were flooding his phone. WTF? I TOLD YOU, YOU WHORE, that quickly progressed into encouragement, fuckk dude, lift her shirt up a bit, always wanted to see her pretty tits.

Unknowingly, Jeno fed into Haechan’s perversions as he also grew tired of the fabric holding you back from him. His big hands held onto your waist before lifting you up and turning you around, so you’d be sitting on his lap facing towards the camera instead of him. The light whimpers you’d let out at his every move gained traction from the chat, who were now spamming comments asking Jeno to fuck the shit out of you. Well, who was he to deny his fans?

You felt Jeno’s lips attach to your neck, as well as his long fingers slipping under your shirt, cupping your bare tits. He hated the fact that you never wore a bra near him, leaving little to his imagination when he wasn’t allowed to touch you. A shit-eating grin replaced his focused expression as he heard your breath hitch when he finally pinched your nipple, stopping for a second to effortlessly rip your shirt off over your head. Now exposed and riddled with goosebumps, Jeno sucked harder, leaving blemishes and marks all over your shoulder. His hands tweaked each nipple, pulling harder to draw more reactions from you.

This time, instead of a gasp, you simply grinded down on him out of instinct, the feeling finally pulling a moan from Jeno’s own throat. His chest still bare from when you had walked in on him earlier, pressed against your back as he held you close, pulling your little shorts off alongside your panties in one swift move. 

You were embarrassingly wet, hating yet loving the way Jeno stared at you through the screen of his own computer. He watched you with hunger in his eyes, as if he was going to devour you, and the worst part is that you began to like the idea. 

Your eyes shut close as you felt his fingers run down your slit, wetting them before he bullied two into you at once. You winced from the pain, not having time to recover before Jeno was thrusting in and out of you. His frustrations escaping him in the form of passion as his other hand planted gentle circles to your clit. Your cunt began to clench around him, a pit in your stomach forming as you let out moan after moan. It was only when he added another finger that you squirmed, the pit fully dropping. The shock on Jeno’s face was evident as a clear liquid covered both you and him once you came. Never in his life would he have expected you to squirt. He didn’t let out though, continuing to thrust his fingers in you until you fully rode out your high, clawing at his hands from the overstimulation.

Although he stopped, the breath you were catching got stuck in your throat once you felt something much larger than his fingers prodding at your cunt. He was big – honestly not a shock to you, who always heard him brag to the rest of your friends before he swore celibacy in solidation with you. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tip pulsing in you, or his strong arms wrapping around you to hold your inner thighs, spreading you out to the camera, full pussy on display.

Hearing your gasps, Jeno stopped to let you adjust, yet it didn’t last long as you clenched around him. Albeit slower than he wanted to, he entered inch by inch until his cock was fully enveloped by your heat. You felt so good, how he knew you would. 

“‘Gonna move now, baby. Hold on to me.” You nodded although your eyes were painfully squeezing close. Jeno couldn’t take the slow pace as he thrusted in and out gently, and you granted his wish as you looked up towards his direction. “Y-you can move, Jen.” His moan was loud as he finally bottomed out, not nearly in as much control over his actions as he was before.

As soon as your pained whimpers shifted to soft gasps, he finally sped up, holding onto your thighs with a bruising grip. His moans were muffled as he whined into your neck. You felt every ridge and vein on his cock, stuffed deep inside of your cunt. Looking at the computer’s display, you felt yourself clench even more at the sight. With a clear view of Jeno’s face, the way he bit his lip and shut his eyes, you felt closer than ever. Jeno was close behind, not being able to take the tight squeeze you had around him anymore.

His pace fastened, thrusting up into you, pistoling in and out with desperation. “So good, fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, ‘wanted this as bad as me?” Your fucked out face was evident as you simply nodded your head, eyes rolling up into your head. With one more hard thrust, you came once more, followed quickly by him. The feeling of his spent shooting inside of you fogged your mind up, and you had to clamp a hand to your mouth to silence yourself. 

Regaining his breath, he lifted you until his dick was fully out of you, laying you comfortably aside before standing up and approaching his laptop. Waving with a successful grin on his face, he shut the computer off. Putting on the nearest boxers on his bed, his next destination was the bathroom, where he gathered a warm wet towel to clean you up. 

You weren’t asleep per se, when he came back, yet your refusal to open your eyes accompanied by your lack of speech told Jeno that you were too exhausted to function, so he let you lay down. In truth, he always dreamed of spoiling you, taking care of you after fucking you to sleep. The only indicator that you were still awake was the small squeeze you gave his hand when he laid behind you, swelling his heart with several emotions. The moment was perfect, one that would forever be remembered in his head as heaven, until he picked his phone up to check the time. 

Can’t believe she squirted… screen recorded all that by the way dude, never thought I’d be so turned on watching you both lol

Jeno didn’t think twice before blocking Haechan’s contact, putting his phone down and cuddling back into you.

a/n: haiii guys i just realized i haven't made anything about jeno yet and ugh i was watching the poison track video he looks so goodddd that look is what i had in mind while making this i hope you guys enjoy :3

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “ARMOUR-CLAD HEART” ﾉ MYDEI. HONKAI STAR RAIL

gn reader ﾉ words 0.9k ᯽ mydei teaches you some self-defence. reader is not made for fighting and rather weak. an awkward display of affection from mydei’s side lol ﾉ no proofreading, we die like kremnoans ᯽ FLUFF ﾉ GENERAL CONTENT ᯽

You hear a displeased click of his tongue — nothing surprising given your stance and previous pathetic tries at blocking his fist — and take a step back with your face embarrassingly hot. His fake hit was nowhere near fast nor strong, just a mere presentation of where such an attack would come from and land at the end.

“You’d be dead within a second on the Strife’s battlefield. Or perhaps should I even say that a mere thug would get through your defence with little to no preparation?” Mydei’s gaze moves all over you in a judging way, and it takes your every strength not to look away.

“I’m not made for battle! You wouldn’t see me anywhere near it. It’s just way too hot today to focus.”

Another loud “tch” escapes his lips, now much more annoyed and agitated than before, as if he has already completely given up on any hope for you. A blazing sun over the terrace is no excuse to stop the lesson, or perhaps it’s precisely because of its presence.

“Surely someone with an ill intent would wait for you to be comfortable and well prepared for their arrival, am I correct?” He snickers in a sarcastic tone, leaving a short pause to give you another opportunity to oppose him.

But again, this time not only is his attitude towards you harsh and insulting, but his words make complete sense, and they burn with embarrassment even more than the scorching heat that surrounds both of you.

Maybe you’re simply spineless and will forever be even under his tutoring. You bite your lip, trying not to appear weaker than you already are, knowing very well that there will be absolutely no use in defending yourself anymore. But it doesn’t matter now. What does he plan to do next?

Your body tenses up out of reflex only seconds before his warm palm wraps around your arm, turning you around effortlessly while pressing your back against his own chest. An uncontrolled gasp leaves your mouth as you are left immobilised in an instant and the forced proximity feels even hotter than midday, yet the one behind you pays no mind to it, completely focused on keeping you in place.

“Most people would assume you cannot get out of this hold unless you’re physically stronger than the aggressor.”

You feel every slight breath he makes pressing harder on you. Not to mention how his voice sends pleasant shivers down your spine by being so close to your ear. All the discomfort disappears the second a faint memory reappears in the most unexpected of places. The way he holds you reminds you of something entirely different from sparring.

Curse your mind, it doesn’t help to focus at all and it’s especially shameful when Mydei’s not affected; calm and composed, with a fiery spark running along the red marks on his body.

“You’ll most likely always have a free hand or two. Instead of wriggling them mindlessly, use one to press on the bottom of your opponent’s nose or even punch them. The nose is always sensitive, even under the slightest pressure.” He eases the grip around your body and demonstrates what he just said and although he doesn’t apply force at all when bringing his knuckle above your cupid’s bow, you squirm involuntarily in an attempt to escape.

But since he never lets go of your other arm, there’s nowhere to run.

“Now, try it yourself.” Yet instead of waiting for your move, his hand — armoured in golden claws, a trap for your smaller palm — grabs yours and brings it behind towards his face. You peek over your shoulder, a little afraid.

To add on top of everything, he is as serious about this sparring lesson as ever, not paying attention to the closeness between your bodies. The red lines decorating his chest seem brighter than usual, with sweat glistening along his collarbones and hair dishevelled by the breeze.

Your heart skips a beat in anticipation when you are almost certain he’s about to kiss your fingers instead, but in the last second, he inches away and brushes them against the underside of his nose. “Here. Remember this.”

“I’m sure that my enemy won’t navigate my hand towards their weak spot.” A shaky sigh of disappointment escapes your lips.

He chuckles lowly at your comment, raising the corner of his mouth in a sardonic smile.

“You’d rather aim blindly than focus on where and what to attack? You’ve just earned the disapproval of the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos.” He moves in front of you, abruptly pausing all physical contact. “Be thankful that I’m not only willing to teach you how to defend yourself but also for that I will protect you with my own strength as long as you’re near.”

He pushes a damp strand of hair out of your face, the lightest touch of his bare finger causing more tingles to travel down your spine. At the same time, he flinches when realising what he has done and lets his hand drop to his side; the victorious glint in his golden eyes changes to bewilderment. His armour rattles at the subtle gesture of humanity and betrayal of his emotionless posture.

“We’ll practice again until you gain the approval from me. Do not expect me to be lenient.” The heat spreading on your cheeks becomes a problem only after Mydei finishes the sentence and moves away with haste, surely caused by his discomfort.

A gentle breeze runs through the illuminated terrace and cools your skin. You watch him walk away without turning around (you wish he would). This feeling of shame mixes with admiration and unadulterated curiosity to stir up something completely bizarre in your heart.

A pomegranate-sweet infatuation with the prince.

[mulloey]

unwelcome • pt 2

read part one here

stepdad!mingyu x fem!reader

words: 3.8k

warnings: this is pretty fucked up. stepfather relationship, infidelity, mingyu n u are not good people rly, brat/brat tamer dynamics, mean hard dom!mingyu, daddy kink, dirty talk, punishment, pussy slapping, gyu refers to you as ‘daughter’ and himself as ‘father’ in a sexual context a couple times, not really dubcon but there’s certainly a power imbalance, breeding, pregnancy mention, heavy degradation, choking etc. this is pretty intense.

you’ve been appropriately warned of the content of this fic and are solely responsible for what you consume. don’t like, don’t read. hate is blocked.

-

it’s been a week since the incident in the kitchen— since mingyu had finally snapped, since you felt his firm hands and long fingers restraining and touching you as he pleased. since the event that you thought would have changed everything with your stepfather. except it hasn’t.

mingyu has said nothing about what transpired that day, and neither have you. you tried to, once, but a hand around your neck and whispered warning that “that wasn’t what you thought it was” had shut you down quickly. he’s still strict, but it’s from a distance now— he doesn’t scold or reprimand you, but nor does he praise or really interact with you in any way. you never thought you would, but you miss it. you miss him.

your mother is gone, again. she seems to have picked up on the energy shift in the house over the past week and, like you, doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. so she’s chosen to stay away, assuming that whatever’s going on will resolve itself as it always does. you had hoped it would too— except mingyu won’t let you get near him.

today you’ve been mulling it over; holed up in your room with your blanket around your shoulders. you’d gone down earlier to grab a piece of toast; you’d felt your stepfather’s eyes on you the whole time you were in the kitchen, but you paid him no mind, grabbing your toast and quickly retreating back upstairs without a word. you wish you hadn’t heard his sigh of relief when you walked away.

you can’t live like this anymore, you know that. whatever thick, immobilizing tension is separating you two, pulling at one and pushing at the other, needs to break. and you will break it, even if just to have back the annoying, obnoxious man you used to hate. it’s better than… whatever this is.

you discuss it at length with your best friend, pearl, over drinks at your favourite bar downtown. she’s the only one you could turn to with something like this— the only one you can trust not to judge you. not that you don’t deserve to be judged; you’ve done an awful thing, after all. you’ve allowed your mother’s husband to touch and finger you. you’ve not just helped him to betray your mother, but you’ve betrayed her yourself.

you’re past that now, though. you’ll make it up to her later. and if mingyu’s willing to do that to his own step daughter then clearly he’s not the right man for your mom anyway. it doesn’t make you feel a whole lot better.

but pearl doesn’t judge you; she never does. you’ve known each other since you were babies, for one, but more importantly, she has (to your annoyance), been saying from the start how utterly delectable your new stepfather is. if anything, she’s probably annoyed she didn’t get to fuck him first.

she listens silently and thoughtfully as you run her through the events of last week, tapping her manicured nails against the wood of the table. by the time you finish, a sly, knowing smile has reached her face.

“isn’t it obvious?” she asks.

you hesitate, confused. “isn’t what obvious?”

“what you need to do,” she says. “to fix this.”

“not to me,” you say. “i mean, i need to fuck him, i think. but i can’t do that when he barely even talks to me now.”

she shrugs, twirling the little cocktail umbrella between her fingers. “so make him jealous.”

“what?”

“piss him off, y/n,” she says. “bring someone home and let him see that you’re moving on. i guarantee you he won’t like it.”

you slump back in your seat, thinking for a moment. it’s a good plan— if it goes right. if it goes wrong, well… you doubt anything could be worse than this. “okay,” you say. “i’ll do that.”

it takes two more days to find the nerve to bring home a boy from your campus. you were careful to choose someone you wouldn’t have to interact with after today if it all went catastrophically wrong, which means the TA in your thesis group who makes eyes at you from across the room is off the table (sorry, wonwoo), but who you’ve seen and interacted with enough that it won’t seem weird when you invite them home with you.

you have no real intentions with joshua, but he’s nice enough, around your age and very horny, so you figure he’ll do fine; indeed, he can barely keep his hands off you as you walk into the house and accidentally-on-purpose make your presence known with a loud laugh. his wandering hands only leave you when your stepfather rounds the corner into the lobby.

he’s dressed in his pyjamas still, and he looks tired and irritated until he spots the boy next to you— and the non-existent, certainly non-platonic gap between you. in an instant he’s awake and the irritation is gone, replaced with anger. his palms twitch at his side, desperate to break the calm demeanor that he’s hanging onto by a thread. little slut.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. he tries to keep his voice cool and leveled but the resulting sound is low and dangerous, like a predator about to strike.

joshua swallows and you feel him tensing up nervously beside you. whether it’s to calm him down or to provoke mingyu further, you're not sure, but you grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. joshua relaxes slightly, and mingyu’s eyes narrow.

“hi,” joshua finally says. “i’m jo–”

“i don’t give a rat's ass who you are,” mingyu says sharply. “tell me what you’re doing here and what your hands are doing on my daughter, now.”

joshua’s eyes widen and he seems to shrink further into himself, wishing he was anywhere else. “look, man,” he says, “i don’t want any trouble. we were just gonna hang out.”

“yeah?” mingyu asks. “not anymore. plans changed, i’m afraid. we’re busy this evening.”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “busy with what?”

mingyu says nothing, just raises a cool eyebrow at you with a blank expression. you feel joshua’s gaze flicker between the two of you in confusion and discomfort.

clearly, he wants nothing to do with this. you don’t blame him; and he’s served his purpose anyway. you’ll make it up to him another day. buy him a coffee or something. doesn’t really matter right now.

“i’m just gonna go,” he mutters. he catches your eye as he walks past, face contorted half in sympathy and half in fear— fear for you, it seems. if only he knew that you’re halfway to getting exactly what you wanted.

“see you around, josh,” you say, but your eyes are already locked with your stepfather.

the door slams shut and he’s on you instantly, hand on your neck as you’re shoved harshly against the wall. the impact is so sharp and sudden that it sends the small painting hung up next to you crashing down, but neither of you notice; not when you’re looking at him with such lust and he’s looking at you with such ire. you could cut the tension between you with a knife, but even then, you’re not sure if it would break. the tiny gap between his face and yours and the heavy breathing as he looks you up and down is electrifying like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“min—”

“shut up,” he says. “i’ve had it with you.” his voice is almost shaking with rage and he stares at you for a moment before his large hand impacts the side of your face. you shriek in pain and surprise, reaching to clutch your stinging cheek but he grabs your wrist with the hand that had just slapped you, holding it firmly above your head.

“fucking slut,” he says. “parading your little boy toy through my house as if i wouldn’t know what you’re doing. debasing yourself like a cheap whore. is that what you thought i wanted?”

your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. you both know the answer but you don’t want to say it. he shakes his head, chuckling dryly.

“no, it’s not,” he says. “because you never cared or even thought about what i might want. only ever thought about yourself, didn’t you?”

you feel yourself shrink under his gaze and the venom of his words and he smiles briefly. his eyes roam your body, lingering on your chest that rises and falls with your heavy, panicked breathing. fuck, he’s practically drunk on the power he has over you right now.

his grip on your neck tightens momentarily— just enough to remind you of how small and breakable you are under his grip. “too fucking cock drunk to think about anything else,” he says lowly. “fuck. i should‘ve made your friend stay so i could fuck you in front of him, shouldn’t i? teach you both a lesson.”

his words hit you in the stomach, knots of arousal twisting in your gut. you know he sees the way your thighs clench together at the image. “i…” you trail off; you have nothing to say. he knows it too. he lifts his hand from your neck to stroke your cheek with a surprising tenderness.

“pretty thing,” he mutters. “my little girl.” he’s silent for a moment, eyes raking over your face, so small and fragile in his strong hands. his grip tightens, squeezing your jaw. “apologise,” he says.

you frown, confused. “for what?”

he snorts like it’s obvious. “provoking me, for one,” he says. “using that poor boy to get a rise out of me. and being a rude, bratty little girl simply because i wasn’t giving you enough attention.”

you roll your eyes before you can think it through and he’s quick to react, his hand slapping you again before returning to your neck. “no respect,” he mutters. “you obviously need an attitude adjustment. and that’s exactly what daddy’s gonna give you.”

you bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the name he’s given himself, but it’s no use. your stepfather is far too tuned in, far too in control, to let anything slip past him. his lips curl into a thin, sneering smile. “liked that, did you?” he asks. “you like being fucked by your fucking father?”

“mingyu,” you whine. your face burns at the humiliation of not just his words, but the truth of them— mingyu is your stepfather. he’s married to your mother. and you’d do anything to have your hands on his dick right now.

“no,” he says. “you don’t get to call me that. if you could act like a mature fucking adult then maybe i’d let you but you can’t, can you? you’ve been a little fucking brat since i met you and it’s about time i treated you like one.”

there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen since that day in the kitchen, only now it burns both brighter and darker than before. as he finally releases his grip of you against the wall, only to drag you by the hair through to the living room, you get the feeling you’re about to see mingyu in a way even the episode in the kitchen couldn’t have clued you into.

he shoves you down, watching you stumble to the floor with a surprised shriek. you sit yourself up, leaning on your hands as you stare up at him where he towers above you— tall, imposing, and terrifying.

he’s silent, watching you closely before he sighs and walks over to sit himself down on the couch. “come here.”

your legs are shaking as you struggle to pull yourself up from the floor. his jaw twitches, fists clenching. you’ve never looked so pathetic, never felt so humiliated and you still have all your clothes on. he reaches out to pull you towards him and you stumble forwards until you land on his lap— over his lap. you feel your short skirt flip up over your ass from the sudden motion, exposing your black lace panties. he chuckles, grabbing one of your ass cheeks and squeezing it firmly. your breath hitches.

“mm,” hums appreciatively. “this is how i like to see you, daughter mine. bent over and ready to submit.”

you squirm, thighs clenching at the low timbre of his voice; the deepening of it as he calls you his daughter. jesus. this is so fucked up.

his finger trails the inside of your thigh, stopping just short of your pussy. he fingers at the hem of your panties, right next to your pussy, watching the way you react to his touch as he teases the edge of your underwear like he’s inspecting it. he sees the wetness seeping through the black fabric and chuckles. “that desperate, baby?” he asks.

you say nothing, still processing the situation you find yourself in and he slaps your ass harshly, making you jolt. “answer,” he says darkly. “or i’ll just spank you and send you to bed without release. is that what you want, little girl?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head fervently. you won’t deny it; the idea of being spanked by mingyu, not for sex, not for foreplay, but solely for punishment, is embarrassingly tantalising. but you’ve been waiting too long to have him touch you like this again and if you don’t get to feel his dick inside you tonight you might actually go insane. “no, i don’t,” you say.

he laughs, pinching the sensitive skin of your thigh and rubbing the red mark soothingly. “look at you,” he chuckles. “so bratty and disrespectful but so quick to submit once i use a bit of force. can’t believe i wasted my time on your mother when i had this little kitten here waiting for me.”

his words are like cold water as they wash over you— your mother. this isn’t just your stepfather— this is your mother’s husband. this is the man she loves and relies on, who swore to be hers for the rest of his life. and you’re bent over his lap and trying desperately not to grind against his thick, strong thigh. you’re the worst daughter ever.

and if you weren’t before, you certainly are when you mewl out a desperate, “please, daddy, fuck me.”

“hm,” he says. “such good manners, i’m almost tempted.” his finger trails along your panties before finally sliding over your covered pussy. you gasp, squirming again when he ghosts over your clit. he presses down a little, enough to make you pulse slightly, then lets go. “what a shame you had to be such a brat.”

you make a noise of confusion, craning your head around to see mingyu sliding your panties down to your ankles, exposing you fully to him with your skirt by now halfway up your back. you catch his gaze and he raises an eyebrow. “turn around,” he says. “i’m gonna teach you how to fucking act around me.”

swallowing, you obey, turning around to bury your head in the pillows of the couch. you feel him raise the thigh you’re bent over, giving him easier access. you close your eyes, bracing for the first hit against your ass. you’re ready for it, you think— what you’re not ready for, is for him to suddenly tilt you forwards and start slapping your pussy instead.

the first strike makes you shriek and he gives you no time to recover before continuing. your pussy is far more sensitive than your ass, not to mention dripping, but he hits you with the same brute strength he’d used on your ass and face. the pain is white hot and searing and you hear the impact of each slap; and the wet, squelching sound of his hand against fluid gushing from you. strings of cream are connecting to his hand, following it each time he pulls away to wind up for another hit. you feel him hardening beneath you and adjust yourself a little without realising, trying to grind against his cock subconsciously. he grabs your waist to tug you back into place and delivers an extra hard swat right on your clit.

it’s so painful and so arousing that you don’t even notice when it’s over. not until he’s pulled you off his lap and pressed his leaking cock against his entrance do you finally realise what’s happening. he’s going to fuck you. finally.

he leans over where you’ve found yourself on all fours on the couch, lips pressing against your ear. “ask me to fuck you, baby,” he whispers. you gasp as he rubs himself against you and he chuckles. “c’mon, filthy girl. ask me nicely.”

“p-please,” you stutter. all your nerves are on fire and pushing against your skin, senses heightened as he slowly starts to push into you. “more,” he groans.

“daddy,” you gasp. his hands are on your waist as he guides himself into you, moaning at the way you sob his name. “fuck,” he grunts.

when he finally gets in all the way it’s overwhelming; mingyu is huge, beyond huge, and you’ve never been this full before. you feel him pressing against your cervix even without moving yet there’s none of the pain or discomfort that someone of his size would usually bring. it feels right. like you were made to take him and he was made to take you.

he starts moving without a word; slow thrusts that get faster and harder until he’s completely pounding you, fucking into you desperately like a wild animal. he sounds like one, too; you both do, yelling and grunting as you pushing yourselves deeper into the other. his grip on your waist is bruising but comfortable and you sink into it, lost in pleasure.

you chant his name on repeat — “daddy, daddy, daddy” — the only word that comes to you as he fucks you open. he leans over you, pressing his face into the back of your neck and kissing down the top of your back before straightening up again, angling himself to go deeper.

“you love this, don’t you?” he spits. “love being whored out by your stepfather. is that why you moved back home? to make yourself available to me?”

you groan at his words, clenching around him. you both know that’s not true, but it may as well be— you certainly won’t be moving back out again anytime soon now. you want to stay with him, be available for him— a waiting hole for him to use. fuck, you're depraved, but so is he; he groans when you say it out loud, thrusting harder. “that’s right,” he grunts. “just a hole f’me. just a fuck toy for your daddy, yeah?”

you choke, crying out when he slams into you again. you reach your arms back, trying to touch him and he grabs them, folding them against your back and holding you down.

“i knew it,” he laughs. “knew from the moment i met you that you just needed some dick. knew it had to be mine, fuck.”

“yes,” you gasp. “yours, yours, gyu, has to be yours.” you’re babbling and delirious now and he’s fucking high on it. he presses more of his weight onto you, trapping you beneath him— as if you’d ever want to get away.

“good girl,” he whispers. “i’m gonna fuck you every fucking day. every time that bitch leaves the house you’re gonna come and fucking present yourself to me, understand? gonna come offer up your holes to daddy.”

“yes,” you whine. “always, daddy.”

“i’m never fucking your mother again,” he says. “i’ve got this perfect little pussy now instead and it’s all mine.”

by now the sensations of his dick slamming into you have become a constant rhythm, allowing you to cling to it as you go dumber and dumber on his cock. you could stay like this forever; split open and abused while he spits filth into your ear; but you can tell from the clenching of your pussy and the throbbing of his cock that you’re both close to the edge. he grunts, grabbing your hair to pull your head backwards and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “good girl,” he says, movements speeding up. “i’m gonna cum in you. gonna put a fucking kid in you. you want that?”

you know mingyu knows you’re on birth control; he’s seen the pills you keep in the medicine cabinet and heard you discuss your prescription with your mother. but fuck, the idea of him getting you pregnant, your own stepfather knocking you up, is so twisted and exhilarating that it propels you towards your orgasm. you feel yourself releasing over his dick, drenching the couch and he makes a noise of delight. “didn’t know you squirted, baby,” he moans. “that’s so fucking perfect, god.”

“daddy,” you moan. “mingyu.” you’ve gone limp on his dick now, fucked out and exhausted but you’re smart enough to recognise that this stops when he’s finished. he’s almost there, though, you can tell; his grip on your tightens, moans getting louder until he spits out a “clench, slut,” and releases into you the moment you obey.

he collapses on top of you once he’s done, face pressed into your back. you’re both filthy; covered in sweat and cum and drool but you don’t care. you’ve never felt so satisfied in your fucking life.

mingyu pulls you into his arms and you relax into his hold, breathing deeply against his chest. it’s perfect peace, utter bliss— while it lasts. minutes later he jumps up, looking panicked.

you stare up at him in confusion. “mingyu?”

“your mother’s coming back,” he says. your stomach drops. “in 30 fucking minutes.”

panic takes over and you force yourself to your feet; it’s dizzying and disorients you for a moment, but mingyu is quick to catch you when you stumble, helping you steady yourself before he releases you. mercifully, most of the mess is on the two of you; the couch is pretty much clean. mingyu orders you into the shower and you obey, scrubbing away all the evidence of what you’ve just done. you hear him run past your room a few minutes later, and when you emerge, you’re both clean and in your pyjama. only the way he looks at you as you walk downstairs together gives away what’s happened.

your mother looks tired when she walks through the door, but smiles sweetly when she spots her husband and daughter waiting in the kitchen for her. she plants a long, wet kiss on mingyu’s lips and you feel your stomach twist in envy. looking away, you turn back to see his eyes on you, dark and scrutinising as your mother sits down at the table.

“how are my loves?” she asks. you smile weakly at her, wracked with guilt but at the same time wishing she would just get the fuck out so you can fuck her husband again.

mingyu puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it fondly, but his eyes never leave you as he speaks.

“we’re perfect.”

-

requests open! feedback, reblogs and comments are appreciated. love🖤🖤🖤

taglist open!

[nakylvr]

— CAUGHT!

daniela avanzini x tmasc!reader

summary: in which your girlfriend finds out you, are the vigilante that's been running the streets, when you show up beaten and bruised.

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, spiderman!reader, mild language

rewatched tasm and had to make something...i love superhero!aus

pain. all you felt at the current moment was pain. stumbling down the alleyways of new york, you were breathing shallowly while trying to see through your mask that was essentially torn in half. one of the eyes ripped off showing your bright pupils, and there was a large tear along the side accompanying the bleeding mark on your face. one of your ribs might've been cracked judging by the sharp pain and slight difficulty to breathe. you were limping due to landing on your ankle during the fight, probably fractured or at least sprained. you should've known better than to get into a fight you weren't determined you could win, and yet you did anyway.

glancing around, you find yourself in front of your girlfriend's apartment. you don't entirely remember how you got here, but you continue to walk around the building. staring up at the building, you take a deep breath before planting your hands and feet on the wall, slowly starting to climb up the wall. you can hear your heart beating in your ears, your head pounding as you move and eventually reach the window of her bedroom. removing one of your hands from the wall, you take the remainder of your mask off and look through the window, seeing daniela sitting on her bed reading a book. you knock on the glass a little harder than you anticipated, watching the latina jump and look over.

you can see her say "what the fuck" before she quickly gets up and goes to the window, opening it and seeing you clearly. but, you're in too much pain to notice or even remember that you were still in your outfit. letting her be the first person (excluding your aunt) to know who spiderman was.

"yn? what the fuck?" daniela says, her tone sounding angry but you know she's far from it with the expression on her face. she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, and you land on your back with a dull thud as you hit the ground.

"dani," you choke out, coughing up a bit of blood. the light in the room feels brighter than it is, and you have to close your eyes to keep your head from spinning.

"jesus fuck. what the hell yn?" daniela kneels down next to you, her hands cradling your face to make you look at her, your eyes tiredly opening at the feeling. "what happened? what did you do? why the hell are you wearing a fucking spiderman outfit?"

she's asking the questions so fast you can barely keep up, only really hearing the last one which is the one you most expected. "it's me," you murmur in response.

her eyes widen, looking over your face and then trailing down to see the parts of your suit ripped open with open wounds bleeding. she tries not to think on the fact you're a vigilante for too long, shaking her head and grabbing your arms. "get up," she tells you, pulling your arms.

it takes all your energy to pull yourself up off the ground, and immediately your legs are wobbling and you slouch against daniela, hearing the curse she mutters while wrapping her arm around you to keep you standing. she then guides you to her bathroom, sitting you down on the edge of the bathtub. "stay here," she says before leaving the bathroom.

you close your eyes, focusing on breathing that hurt every time you inhaled causing you to cough and feel an extreme sharp pain in your side. "fuck," you curse quietly. you're not sure how much time passes until you hear footsteps approaching and you slowly open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry but managing to make out daniela with a first aid kit in her hands. "dani..."

"don't talk," she tells you, stopping in front of you and setting the first aid kit down on the sink counter. "how the hell do you get this thing off?" she asks, clearly talking about the suit.

tapping the spider logo on your chest, your suit shrinks into a small trinket off your body, leaving you in just your boxers, causing daniela's eyes to widen and mumble a curse under her breath.

"okay...not going to ask," she murmurs. looking over your body and seeing the different cuts and bruises. "god, yn..." she sighs quietly. "you look like shit." she opens the first aid kit, pulling out a few different things from it.

"feel like it," you mumble, your eyes drooping closed.

"don't close your eyes," daniela tells you, pouring some rubbing alcohol on a pad before pressing it on your cheek.

"fuck!" you gasp at the stinging pain you immediately feel, your eyes shooting open.

there was a silence that filled the room after that as daniela put bandages around your waist and other spots that were bleeding. but it was far from a comfortable silence. you knew she was upset at multiple things, but you didn't know how to talk about it. your aunt was the only one who knew you were spiderman, and she found that out on accident, so you hadn't really prepared for when others would find out.

"i'm sorry," you mumble.

"don't start doing that." daniela shakes her head. she finishes with the last bandage and takes a step back to look at you better, letting out a short sigh. "were you ever going to tell me?"

you look down at the ground at her question. it takes you a moment to respond, both from the throbbing in your head and trying to figure out how to put it. "eventually," you answer.

"eventually?" daniela repeats. "what the hell does that mean?" she crosses her arms over her chest.

"it means i..." you take a shaky breath. "i didn't want you to know and possibly get hurt. i-i didn't want to risk losing you," you answer quietly.

daniela's face softens at your response. she sees you look down at the ground again and she grabs your hand causing you to look at her. "you aren't going to lose me, yn," she says in the same voice. "and while this is definitely not how i would've liked to have found out considering you're completely beaten and bruised, i'm glad you came to me."

"i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks slightly, your breathing coming out in light wheezes from the pain you were feeling. "all-all i could think about was if i-i didn't get away i would die a-and i w-wouldn't see y-you and-"

"hey, hey," daniela interjects, her hands moving up to cup your face and seeing the tears starting to form in your eyes. "breathe, yn. you're okay. everything is okay. i swear." her thumbs wipe away the few tears that fell from your eyes. "i love you, okay? nothing will change that." she presses a soft kiss to your lips.

you can feel your heartbeat finally slowing down to an even pace when she kisses you, sighing softly against her lips as your arms snake around her waist. when she pulls away, she looks down at you with such love in her eyes that it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"i love you too," you say quietly.

"c'mon, let's get you into some clothes. i think there's still some of yours from when you were last here," daniela says. grabbing your hand and gently pulling you up onto your feet.

you follow her back to her bedroom, standing there silently as she finds the clothes of yours and helps you get them on. once you've changed she grabs your hand again, going over to her bed and lying down on it while pulling you along with her.

you lay down on top of her, hearing the quiet gasp that escapes her lips at the sudden weight on her, but she doesn't mind it. you were honestly like a weighted blanket when you did this, and she knew how much pain you were currently in, so she didn't say anything. your head rests on her chest as you close your eyes to try and ignore the throbbing in your head, hearing her heartbeat calm you down so you were breathing correctly again. one of her hands drags its fingers through your hair, playing with the strands causing you to immediately feel the exhaustion seeping through your body.

"thank you," you mumble.

"don't thank me," she whispers. "i'm just glad you're okay."

you nod a little bit, feeling yourself about to fall asleep just by the way she was playing with your hair and her familiar perfume as you put your face in her neck. "i love you."

"i love you too." she presses a small kiss on your head. "get some sleep. i'll be here when you wake up."

a short hum escapes your throat at her words and within the minute you were passed out asleep on top of her. she glances down at you, her eyes wandering across the bruises that were already beginning to form on your skin and the bandages she used to cover the open cuts you had on you. she lets out a quiet sigh before closing her eyes, knowing she'll have to have a long talk with you tomorrow about all of this. but not for now. for now, you were okay, you were safe, and you were in the arms of the girl you cared about the most. and for now, that was enough.

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - two (j.yh); section one

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. one | two (*section one); (section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!

The tour ends in Paris of all places. After weeks of concealing your growing relationship with Yunho from everyone, it feels like the universe is rubbing salt in the wound bringing you to the so-called city of love. 

For weeks as you hopped city to city, a whirlwind of language and culture and food, you found yourself living for the quiet, stolen moments with him. Quick visits to each other’s hotel rooms and even faster kisses, but never a full night. He hugged you briefly in Amsterdam, left a single rose on your station in Rome, bought you a cashmere scarf in London when the weather took a turn. You catalog these moments in your memory, and scribble down musings in your travel journal, and try not to judge yourself for saving every little scrap of your secret relationship down to the gift receipt in the bottom of the bag and one of the rose petals (pressed dry between the pages of your latest read). 

Paris feels different though. Everywhere you look there are couples snuggled close in the winter chill, and though you aren’t necessarily one for public displays of affection, seeing it like this makes your heart ache. You’d at least like the option. But despite his little gifts, you and Yunho have been doing your best to be subtle, mitigating even the smallest glances, and getting to know him over text. It wasn’t enough, but you could cope, until now. Until this city. You weren’t supposed to walk through a city this romantic alone, not when your soulmate was a few blocks away in a hotel room. You were supposed to be with him.

He feels your ache though, and you feel his. 

Besides, it’s almost, almost over. 

In Paris, you all have an extra two days to account for the end of the tour and flights home, and the electric energy of being almost finished and almost home has everyone buzzing. The members are jittery with anticipation but so is the staff, so close to being back home and in the arms of their loved ones and with a belly full of Korean food. 

On the last show, after soundcheck runs perfectly smoothly and the pre-show rituals have all been checked off without a hitch, it goes to shit. Venue delays, an issue outside getting the fans inside, leaving the stadium only half full at the call time. 

It’s not the first time this has happened of course, but it is the first time for this tour and to have it happen on the last day leaves everyone groaning. 

“They couldn’t tell us this twenty minutes ago?” Hongjoong asks one of your production team.

They had been moments away from starting the introduction lights and music, the boys had already gotten up onto their rising platforms when a member of the venue staff had jogged all the way backstage waving her arms and trying to explain in a mix of French and English that they had to wait. 

“They said thirty minutes,” The staff member replies, “we won’t have to make any cuts, but anything over an hour we’ll need to start,” 

“Fuck,” Hongjoong’s jaw tightens, “Sorry, I apologize,” 

The boys are gathered tightly around management and the production staff and you, Iseul, and the other members of makeup and hair step forwards to listen in. 

You can’t quite catch all of the conversation, but then there’s some nodding in the center circle and Sunhee, the head of tour production, turns and addresses everyone as they shuffle into a semi-circle around him, “Alright, we’re running on a thirty delay,” 

Everyone nods.

 “If we hit 60, we’re electing to cut Deja Vu, Silver Light, DLWB, and Eternal Sunshine,” He explains, “We’ll shift Wave into the 8th block behind Dreamy Day, yes?” 

Everyone nods again. 

“That’s a setup we’re already prepared for, correct?” He addresses the sound team who nods, and then looks to every other team who follows suit before he continues, “If we need to cut more, we need to be prepared for a lot of small changes. It’s possible we lose Win and Fireworks, and that’s not something we want to do. Everyone needs to be on strict standby until we get rolling, I don’t want to be looking for anyone in the bathroom or finding out someone stepped out for a smoke, clear?” 

There’s a chorus of responses. 

“If you need a break, do it in the next five. Every ten until lights, we’re right here.” He’s a clear, no nonsense leader, but everyone has their marching orders. 

The group breaks up after that, several staff hurrying off to the bathrooms now and a couple of the BB Trippin dancers slipping out the back access door for a cigarette. 

The members are talking amongst themselves in a tighter circle, planning choreography changes and ment changes to tighten up the time, and you try your best to not look at Yunho for more than a passing glance. His back is to you, and you ache to reach out and see how he’s doing, ease the bubble of stress you feel in your gut, but you can’t. 

Iseul bumps you gently with her hip and nods her head back towards your stations. Dahan and Eunji are back, thankfully, having gotten over Covid fairly quickly and started testing negative, and the four of you huddle up to do your own planning session. 

“This doesn’t change much for us except how fast we work,” Iseul says, “we can make some strategic cuts around the unit stages too, no added eye enhancements, keep the focus on skin, lips, and brows.” 

“Done,” Dahan nods and then settles back into the chair at her station, “I don’t think there’s much more we can do,” 

Iseul nods, “It’s not a makeup heavy set,” 

Eunji collapses into her own chair and pops open an energy drink, “That just means their foundation has to look better,” 

“They look good,” You assure her, “and lord knows we use enough setting spray,” 

Eunji laughs and takes a swig of her drink, her carefully manicured nails clicking against the aluminum can as drops it back down on the table, “Hmm,” her leg bounces nervously, “we should check them again,” 

“They’re fine,” Iseul says, “plus, wardrobe has them.” 

You look back up, and sure enough the wardrobe team is fluttering around them as they talk, taking every opportunity to re-steam a jacket or fix a pant hemline. 

You lean back against the long table of snacks and water bottles along the one white wall and watch the chaos, your fingers drumming restlessly along the lip of the table. 

“Hey!” One of the wardrobe staff leaps forwards and you look up, “Don’t sit on the couch, I’ll just have to press those pants again!”

Wooyoung leaps up from the couch and groans, “Sorry, sorry,” 

“Let me check you,” She inspects his pants with a sharp gaze, “these crease too easily,” 

Wooyoung cracks a joke you don’t hear, but everyone within earshot is laughing and you smile at the scene. You’ve all worked together for so long it really does feel a bit like family. 

Staff starts to gather back up, and Sunhee makes another clear announcement, “Still running on a thirty,” 

Everyone echoes back their understanding. 

Now there’s nothing to do but wait. Chewing the inside of your lip you fish your phone out of your brush belt pocket and idly scroll, flicking through photo after photo on Instagram and barely absorbing any of it. 

A body shifts in your periphery and you look up to see Yunho, leaning on the table next to you but leaving an appropriate amount of space between your bodies. His head is angled away from you, talking animatedly to San about something, and though you know he’s ignoring you on purpose you also know he sat here for a reason. 

Your chest warms, and so does his. 

Feeling him this close feels like you’re standing in a rising tide, the sensation of him filling the space around you so wholly and completely, and you know if you were to just surrender to it would carry you right out to sea. 

San’s eyes flick to yours, “What about you?” 

You blink, “Hmm?” You might have been looking in their direction but not a single word made it into your brain. 

San’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, “That dance challenge with Bada, have you seen it?” 

“Oh,” You nod, realizing what trend they’re talking about on Tiktok, “yeah, for sure, it’s everywhere right now,” 

“I’m trying to get Yunho to do it with me,” He explains, “it’s cool right? I think we’d kill it,” 

Yunho swivels his head to look in your direction and your stomach flips and you fight to keep your face somewhat professional and neutral when you nod, “It’s definitely cool, a lot of idols are doing it, you should,” 

“Well,” He smiles, his expression warm, “I guess I’ll have to,” 

San snorts softly, and you wonder briefly if he involved you in the conversation because he knew Yunho would cave if you said something. 

The moment is short though, when Wooyoung cuts between San and Yunho, “Budge over I need a water,” 

Yunho slides to the side just a few inches, but it’s enough to feel the heat of his body from shoulder to thigh as he gets closer to you and your breath quickens. Even after a few weeks, his proximity still makes you feel a dizzy kind of elation and you swallow tightly to keep your own reactions under wraps. 

“You good?” Yunho’s focused on Wooyoung’s serious expression though. 

“My calf keeps cramping,” He complains, uncapping a water bottle and locating a packet of electrolytes to pour into it. 

“You need to stretch,” San says, “drink that and come here,” 

Wooyoung grumbles something and Yunho chuckles. 

“Yeah, yeah,” San rolls his eyes, “don’t complain when you know I’m right,” 

“Fine,” Wooyoung downs the water bottle, drinking half of it in three thirsty gulps and then spins on his heel to follow San to the far wall that’s empty. 

For a moment, Yunho doesn’t move. 

You stay frozen in place, unsure of exactly what to do, if you should move or if you should let him move, but he makes the decision for you. 

The back of his knuckles brush along yours for just a moment, and then he’s up again and walking towards his members. Your heart flutters, and you’re sure he can feel it with the way he looks at you, just one quick glance back before he starts stretching again with Wooyoung and San. 

You’ll have to add that one to your notes then, he brushed your hand in Paris. 

Blissfully, they announce again that the delay is only going to be thirty minutes. No cuts to the show, no panic. In ten minutes everything will start and you’ll be one step closer to home.

In the wings at the new call time, you prep them again with a final pat of powder, smoothing out any whisper of a pore. When they move past you, Yunho’s hand brushes yours again, and you wonder if he knows he’s doing it. It feels unconscious the way he gravitates towards you, and though he keeps the contact decidedly subtle, you can feel the way his nervousness eases with just a touch of your skin on his. 

You watch him as he jogs out to the stage risers, you can’t quite tear your eyes away. He’s so handsome, so commanding of the stage, so unlike the soft, gentle man you’ve come to know off screen. You’re starting to really love them both, or perhaps you already do, and quietly you send him as much warmth and confidence through the link as you can. 

His eyes flick over to the wings, a flash of a smile on his lips, but then he refocuses and adjusts his in-ears, and the risers lift into the roar of the crowd once again. 

Your eyes track him as he goes up, and sensation bursts through the link from his side, only this time it doesn’t take you down to your knees. You’ve gotten used to it the past few shows, and now it just rings in your body like background noise. 

A hand closes around your forearm and pulls, yanking you out of your dazed thoughts, and you whirl to catch Iseul’s serious expression.

“Come with me,” She murmurs lowly, “right now.” 

Your stomach twists but you keep the panic to a minimum, you can’t do this to him again. Following her to the backstage door, she grabs her coat and tugs it on and throws you yours. She tugs you outside before you can even properly get your arms through the sleeves and you yank your arm back, “What’s going on?” 

“You’re asking me?” She says quietly even though the stage door is shut tight and there’s no one in sight, “Are you kidding?” 

She shoves a hand into her pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes, ones that she usually only smokes after a few drinks, “I started to think in Amsterdam that it was one of them,” 

Your stomach sinks like a stone. 

She sparks the lighter and leans in to light the smoke, “You were watching them differently,” 

“Iseul,” 

“But, I guess it’s Yunho, isn’t it?” She takes a drag and levels you with a serious expression. 

“Please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, she’s your best friend, but the fear of the unknown still crushes your chest, “don’t,” 

“He watches you too,” She says, “I wasn’t sure at first, he’s always been friendly with us, but this is different,” 

“I don’t know what to say,” You manage. 

“How about you don’t lie to your best friend,” She takes another drag, “that would be a good start,” 

“It’s not what you think,” You step closer. 

“I don’t think you know what I think,” 

“Iseul,” You wrap your arms around yourself. 

“Fine,” She tips the ash off the end of the cigarette and pushes her pin straight hair back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell you what I think,” 

You stay silent, stomach tight. 

“You’ve been weird,” She says, “I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy, and I really doubt you just noticed him for the first time, so either you’re an excellent liar or you’re in love with him,” 

You blanch. 

“And if you’re in love with him,” She points out, “so suddenly after years, then there’s more to it. So I started paying attention,” 

She takes a long drag of her cigarette and sighs out the smoke. 

“You’ve been sneaking off,” She points out, “checking your phone constantly,” 

Your eyes flick down to the pavement. 

“But the weirdest part,” She says, “is that you’ve been changing in the bathroom and we’ve been friends for years. I’ve seen your tits like a hundred times,” 

Your head snaps up. 

“You’ve been too happy lately for it to be something bad,” She says, her voice softening a bit, “so it’s something good, something like your mark changing.” 

”Iseul,” Your voice comes out weakly. 

“Fuck,” She looks over your expression, “he’s your soulmate,” 

“We didn’t know,” You stumble through the words, “I swear, we didn’t,” 

“I believe you,” She nods, “I just want to know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m your best friend, I would have helped you, I wouldn’t… I would never tell anyone,” 

“I know,” You reach for her, “I know you wouldn’t do that.” 

“Then why?” She pulls her wrist from your touch and ashes her cigarette again, “Because it really hurts that you couldn’t trust me with this.” 

“It’s not that,” You press, and it pours out of you, “we don’t even know what we’re doing. It’s really overwhelming, everything I’m feeling and he’s feeling, and then there’s the contracts and the job and the fucking public, and I just… I don’t know what to do, we don’t know what to do. We decided to wait until we got back to Korea to figure it out properly,” 

She nods. 

“I was going to tell you as soon as I got the nerve up,” You promise, “I haven’t even called Hana,” 

Her eyes widen at the confession that you haven’t told your sister after weeks, “Babe,” 

“If you know,” You manage, “and she knows, then it’s happening, and I,” 

Iseul flicks her cigarette to the curb and throws her arms around you, tugging you close for a hug, “Oh, you nervous idiot,” 

“I promise,” You hug her back, “I was going to tell you,” 

“Don’t you want it to be real?” She murmurs the question, “It’s your soulmate,” 

“I do,” You nod, “I want him, it’s just,” 

She rubs your back as you sigh.

”It could be easier,” You finally admit, “if he wasn’t who he is, then it would be simple.” 

She nods and pulls back from the hug, giving you a final squeeze, “Simple’s for fairytales,” 

“I guess,” 

“We’ll work it out,” She nods, “I’ll help.”

“I should have told you weeks ago,” You confess. 

“Probably,” She nods, “I would have helped cover for you at least,” 

You smile, “Yeah?” 

“Totally,” She nods. 

You sigh into the cold air, your breath making a cloud of vapor. 

She pushes her hands into her coat pockets and then stops, “Who else knows?” 

“San, he saw it when we touched,” You tell her and her eyes widen, “and Seonghwa… he found us in bed that morning in Berlin,” 

“I’ll be mad about them knowing before me later,” Her nose crinkles, “but that’s good, let’s keep the circle small for now.” 

“Definitely,” You nod, “we want to tell people, but just not… it’s better at home,” 

She chews the inside of her lip, sighing and pulling out another cigarette, “You haven’t slept together?” 

“Not yet,” 

As she lights the second cigarette her eyebrow quirks up, “So you’re just tormenting yourselves for fun, or?” 

Iseul was, without a doubt, the biggest believer in soulmates you’ve ever met. Everyone in her family was lucky enough to have found their match young, from her parents to her siblings, but she’s been waiting. Out of anyone without a soulmate though, she knew exactly how difficult the time between initial touch and fulfillment of the bond was. 

“We nearly did,” 

“And?” She takes a drag.

“He wanted to do it right,” You explain, your cheeks heating.

She nods, “He seems like that type,” 

Your gut tightens and you exhale, “I was also a little terrified,” 

“You and relationships,” 

“This is different,” You cross your arms.

 Iseul smirks at your sudden defensiveness, “I know it is,” she says, “but it’s still freaking you out, obviously,” 

“It was,” You admit, “maybe it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.” The logistics have you stressed beyond belief, but him? Those fears have been fading fast since that first night.

 “So, you do love him,” She smiles, flicking away her half smoked cigarette.

All you can do is nod. 

Iseul softens at that, after so many years of friendship and watching each other try relationships on for size. Every almost match that withered into nothing, every missed connection, every late night wondering. 

“I’m happy for you both,” She says earnestly, reaching for the door and clearing her throat to shove away the emotion there, “but I swear if you lie to me again,” 

You laugh, “Got it.” 

She punches in the key code to the door and twists the handle when it goes green, but then she stops short, “Listen, we’ll talk about the rest later, but you’ve got to tone it down with him in there. No more longing looks, no more little touches, if I saw you someone else will too.” 

Your stomach twists, “Fuck,” 

“It’s fine,” She says, “I was looking for it, but eventually someone’s going to notice.” 

“Okay, you’re right” You nod. 

“Let’s get back in there,” She pulls the door back open and you stumble inside. 

Everyone is gathering up again for the first costume change, and you do your best to shake off the conversation. Iseul squeezes your shoulder once, and then slips back to her station like nothing ever happened. 

You don’t look at him again the rest of the show. 

Iseul’s warning lives in your mind and you try to keep some distance. You give him the same polite congratulations on the tour that you give to every member, ignoring the little crease between his brows when he realizes you’re being funny. 

At the team dinner, you keep to the far side of the table and keep the soju to a minimum. 

You ignore the buzzing phone in your pocket and his quick glances. 

Iseul keeps you busy, keeps you steady.

You don’t let yourself look at the text messages on your phone until you’re back in your hotel room and able to finally relax. A string of texts from him make your heart twist. 

everything alright?

you seem tense, did something happen during the show?

alright now i know you’re avoiding me….. jagi, what did i do? tell me so i can fix whatever it is

you look so beautiful tonight, i wish i was across the table from you. i wish we didn’t have to hide this. i wish you’d tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better. 

let me know you get to your room safely. 

“You good?” Iseul asks as she flops back on her bed, “You look freaked,” 

“Yunho,” You pass her the phone so she can see for herself. 

She skims the messages quietly, one eyebrow raising, “Girl,” she looks up at you, “I said be subtle, not emotionally terrify your new boyfriend,” 

Your cheeks heat, “He’s not my boyfriend,” 

“Yeah he is,” Iseul rolls her eyes and tosses your phone back, “and the sooner you accept that this is good for you, the sooner you can get a handle on this with him and actually make a plan,” 

Chewing the inside of your lip you sink down onto the edge of your own bed, “I keep fucking this up,” 

She shakes her head, “You’re fine, but you’re also wound so tight some strings are bound to break. Call him,” 

“He’s probably so pissed at me,” You breathe.

 “He’s probably worried,” She counters, “but babe, he’s not any of your shitty exes. At some point you have to stop being scared that every guy is going to break your heart, especially this one.” 

“Ouch,” You grimace at her words. 

“Am I wrong?” 

You sigh heavily and run a hand through your hair, of course she wasn’t wrong. Iseul had watched you couple up time and time again only for it to be another failed attempt at not being alone. That combined with your only significant relationship being littered with gaslighting, cheating, and a truly terrible sex life meant she wouldn’t let you settle, or let a good thing pass you by just because of your anxiety and less than stellar history with the opposite sex. 

“Call him,” She interrupts your thoughts again. 

You swallow tightly, but at her unwavering gaze you finally look down and press the call button next to his contact picture, pressing the phone to your ear, your fingers drumming nervously on your knee. 

Yunho picks up on the second ring, “Baby?” 

He doesn’t sound mad at all, all you hear is relief in his voice and your shoulders drop, “Hey,” 

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” You hear the rustle of sheets on his side as he sits up. 

“Nothing,” You let out the air trapped in your chest, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” 

He’s quiet for a second, but then he speaks up, “I can feel your stress, y/n,” 

You wonder how heavily it’s pouring out of you for him to feel it so clearly through the link. 

He takes a slow breath and then continues, “If it’s something I did, I’d like to know so we can talk about it. If it’s something else, I’m here,” 

There’s a brush of warmth against your mark, and all your tension starts to melt, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yunho, I promise.”

“Okay,” He murmurs, letting you know he’s listening, waiting for more. 

You look up and meet Iseul’s gaze. She nods at you, waving her hand towards you in a ‘get on with it’ motion, silently pushing you through this. 

“Iseul knows about us,” You tell him in a nervous exhale, “she noticed we were being familiar, that there was something going on,” 

Sheets rustle again and Yunho clears his throat, “Oh,” he says, “I mean, you’re friends aren’t you? Is she upset?”

You open your mouth to say more, but Iseul groans and pushes herself off the bed, snatching the phone from your ear and taking over the call. You jump up to grab it back, but she holds you back with one arm outstretched and a growing smile on her face.

 “Yunho?” She says, “It’s Iseul,” 

You hear a short response from Yunho, but you can’t make out the individual words he says.

 “Of course I’m not upset,” Iseul says, “I’m honestly really, really happy for you both, even if I had to figure it out myself,” 

You watch as Iseul listens to his reply and she laughs sharply. 

“Yeah, you two giving each other puppy eyes for the last few weeks was not subtle, no,”

Another beat, and you nudge her side, whispering, “Iseul,” 

“No, no,” She shakes her head and steps away from you to keep talking to him, “I told y/n this, but I was looking for it. She was acting weird so I knew something was up, but I just wanted you both to be careful in front of everyone,” 

Yunho says something you can’t hear and Iseul nods to herself.

”She’s okay,” Iseul looks back to you, a soft expression in her eyes now, “you’ll learn this, but she’s a little skittish.” 

“Iseul!” 

She rolls her eyes at you, but listens to him and nods again, “Listen,” she finally says, “I’m going to give the phone back to your girl, but before I do I just want to remind you that she’s my best friend. I think you’re a good guy, Yunho, but if you so much as make her cry, I’ll kill you. Clear?” 

His reply is short and she laughs.

 “Good,” Iseul grins, “she deserves someone good, and I know you can be that person for her.”

You reach out your hand for the phone again, needing to talk to him and pull your best friend back from whatever emotional speech she might let loose next. 

“I’m glad,” Iseul says, “now let me put y/n back on, I think she’s about to have an aneurism.” 

You can hear Yunho’s laugh as she passes back the phone and you take it eagerly, “Hi, god, I’m so sorry about that,” 

Iseul laughs and walks towards the bathroom to wind down and do her skincare and give you a brief moment of privacy, and you spin and walk towards the far end of the room near the window. 

“It’s fine,” Yunho sounds warm and not at all upset, “I’m glad you have a friend like her,” 

“Still,” You curl up into the armchair, “I didn’t mean to act so weird today or to corner you like this after such a long show,” 

“Don’t apologize,” He soothes you, “I know this is a lot, and Iseul’s right, we need to be careful if we want to do this the right way,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “still, I could have texted you and told you. I just got nervous,” 

“I know,” He murmurs, “but in the future, you don’t have to be alone in that. I’m your guy.” 

A smile tugs at your lips, “You are?” 

“Mhm,” He says softly, “you don’t have to handle anything alone anymore, jagi.”

Tightness sinks into your throat and you nod, pushing back the telltale sign of tears, “I’d like that,” 

“Good,” He murmurs, “now are you up for doing me a favor?” 

“A favor?” Your brow furrows, “What’s wrong?” 

“Not wrong,” He sounds so relaxed, so comfortable, and it puts you at ease, “but get your coat and map yourself to the location I’m sending you,” 

“What?” You laugh, feeling your phone buzz as his text comes through. 

“We’ll keep our distance,” He assures you, “but sweetheart, it’s snowing, and I am not missing the first snow with my soulmate in Paris,” he emphasizes, “so bundle up and get out here.” 

You pull the curtain to the side, and sure enough there’s snow swirling in the air, falling in soft fluffy flakes.

“Oh, wow,” You breathe, taking in how a white blanket has already started to thicken up on the streets outside. 

“Call me back when you get there,” He says, “okay?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, soft warmth spreading through your body, “I’m on my way,” 

You’re a whirlwind as you tug your coat back on, lacing up your boots and searching your bag for a pair of gloves. Iseul gives you one look when she sees you getting ready, but she smiles, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” 

“I won’t be long, I’m sure,” 

She shrugs, “Be safe,” 

“I will,” 

She searches for something on the side table and tosses it to you, a small black piece of fabric, “Mask, don’t forget,” 

“Got it,” You nod, affixing the mask to your face. The likelihood of you being photographed in Paris during a snowstorm when you weren’t even going to be next to Yunho was close to zero, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it. 

“Go get your man,” She arches her brow suggestively and you groan, rolling your eyes and darting out of the hotel room before she can embarrass you anymore. 

As quickly as you can, you map yourself to the pinned spot he sent and start walking. It’s hard to tell from the map, but as you get closer to the spot a few streets up from your hotel on the far side of the Seine you realize this is all it is, a street corner by the edge of the bridge. 

There’s barely anyone around, especially with the weather, and you can’t see Yunho anywhere. 

Tucking your coat closed around you, you find your phone and follow Yunho’s instructions. 

He picks up your call immediately, “You there?” he asks, his voice sounding a little muffled. 

“Yeah,” You breathe, looking around to see if you can spot him now, “Are you coming?” 

“I’m already here,” He says, “look up, across the river under the light by the steps,”

You step close to the stone railing at the edge of the river, and sure enough under the street lamp directly opposite your corner, Yunho stands unmistakably tall under the light. You can’t make out the details of him from this far away, the river is wide enough that he could be just about anyone at this distance, but then the figure waves. 

You can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice when he says, “Hi, baby,” 

“Hey,” You relax into the railing, your stomach flipping pleasantly. You’re still not used to the way he’s tender with you, his pet names and how easily he sunk into being soulmates, but you trust him. It doesn’t matter how fast or how hard you’re falling, despite those fluttering nerves, you know he’s going to catch you, you feel it. 

He hums pleasantly through the phone and you imagine him smiling, “Take a walk with me?” he asks brightly.

“Love to,” You murmur. 

“I have a surprise for you,” He says, “it’s just around the bend of the river,” 

“How did you have time to do anything? We just got to Paris last night,” The figure across the river starts to walk and so you follow, slowly making your way up the length of the river by the stone railing. 

“Don’t get too excited,” He laughs softly, “I didn’t do anything,” 

“Mhm,” The air is crisp and sharp, and you take in a deep breath, “I love snow,” 

“Me too,” 

“People always say I’m crazy, but I prefer winter over summer,” 

“I do too,” He says, and you can almost picture him smiling, “I hate the heat,” 

There’s a natural lull, a gentle pause in conversation, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You feel his presence with you as if he were walking right at your side, and it keeps you warmer than any scarf or padded coat. 

Finally, Yunho breaks the companionable silence, “I always try to take a long walk in a new city,” 

“Late night, like this?” You ask.

“It’s usually the only time I have,” He sighs, “I’m getting used to exploring places by street lamp,” 

“I’d like to actually explore here during the day,” You say, “I’ve always wanted to come here,” 

“Where else have you always wanted to go?” 

You step around a couple nestled close together near the wall and continue on, boots crunching on the layer of snow ahead of you, “Everywhere,” you admit, “but I don’t know, there’s more of America to see, and I’ve never been to Australia. Vietnam maybe, or, oh, Iceland, I’d like to see the northern lights.” 

“I’d love to take you there someday,” 

“Take another long walk in the snow,” You offer, glancing across the river. It takes you a moment to find him as you both pass through a busier spot, but you see him pass under another street lamp and your heart is back at ease. 

“y/n,” Yunho says after a beat, “are you sure you’re alright with Iseul knowing about us?” 

You swap your phone to your opposite hand, tucking your frozen fingers into your pocket and nod even though he can’t really see that from this far away, “I am, she’s my best friend, I should have just told her.” 

“I don’t think either one of us knows what we’re doing,” He reminds you, “and that’s okay.” 

“Mm,” You sigh, a heavy cloud of vapor blooming in the icy air, “I do know one thing,” 

“What’s that?” 

Your stomach flutters nervously, but you press on, “I haven’t felt this happy or this cared for in a long time,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear his breath, “I feel the same way,” 

“I just want to be on the plane now,” You admit, “at least then we’d be almost home,” 

“Well,” He says, “don’t wish for it too soon,” 

“What do you,” You start to say but he swiftly cuts back in. 

“Look to your left, sweetheart,” He says warmly.

Your head snaps up, and you turn only to have the breath knocked out of you by this city yet again. There, across the river and beyond a large bridge in the distance is the Eiffel Tower, standing golden against the night sky. 

“Oh,” You breathe. 

“Wait for it,” He murmurs.

“What did you do?” You can’t stop yourself from grinning like a fool, but you expect that’s a common experience for tourists in love in this city. 

“I didn’t do anything,” He laughs, “I just got the timing right, just wait,” 

You step closer to the wide bridge, ornate with golden statues and arched to offer ferry boats passage underneath. All the while you keep your eyes locked to the tower, and blink away the dust of snow collecting on your eyelashes. 

“Yunho,” 

“Just,” He starts to say, his voice getting far away as if he moved the phone, “another minute,” 

You tuck your scarf up around your face and wait, and then it starts to glitter. Blocks away but still standing tall before you in the distance, the golden monument starts to sparkle with the fast flicker of silvery lights.

“Oh,” You breathe, “I didn’t think I’d see it,” 

“Mhm,” He murmurs, “you might have mentioned it in London,” 

“Did I?” You can’t tear your eyes away. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take you there properly,” He confesses, “or anywhere properly yet, but, someday I will,” 

The glittering stops and you finally look away to try and find him again across the bridge, only he’s closer now and walking directly along your side of the bridge towards you. Your feet are moving before you can convince yourself otherwise, a magnetic pull straight to him. 

The bridge is thankfully quiet, barely anyone on either side, and you both stop in the middle, both of your phones tucked into your respective pockets. 

“Hi,” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles beneath his mask. 

“Hey,” You sigh, “should we be doing this?” 

“No one’s here,” He says, stepping closer, “just one minute,” 

You nod, “One minute,” 

“Listen,” He says, his hand brushing against yours again, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too,” 

Your heartbeat quickens.

“But we are almost home,” He says, “and once we’re there, we will make a plan. We will make this work, and I promise you, I’m more afraid of losing you than of losing all this,” he gestures towards the city around you. 

“There’s got to be a way, other people who have done this,” You nod. 

“We’ll find out,” He assures you, “just please, don’t pull away from me when things get hard or if you’re afraid. You can rely on me, you can trust me, I swear to you, y/n.” 

You can feel the nervous knot in his chest, and you step close, resting a hand where you know his soulmark loops on his chest. When you let yourself feel him, focus on him, it’s clear to you just how anxious about your growing relationship he’s been. Soulmates or not you still have to walk the path together, and of the two of you, you’ve been less clear. His gestures, his gifts, the way he’s tried his best over the past few weeks to show you his true feelings and intentions, but you haven’t given him enough back to soothe that knot in his chest. 

“Baby,” The endearment slips out and you feel him soften under your touch, “I’m here, I’m with you. I’m so fucking terrified, but not of you or of this.” 

Snow sticks to his lashes, swirls in the air around you, but his exhale of ragged breath isn’t the cold, it’s relief. 

“I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up somehow, of what will happen when people find out,” You confess, “and I’m so scared you’ll wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth the mess,” 

“y/n,” He shakes his head, reaching for your cheek. 

“I know, I know,” You catch his hand against your face, press a fast kiss to his palm through the fabric of your mask, “it’s just a fear, I just want you to understand where my head has been,” 

He nods, a little crease between his brows. 

“But I do trust you,” You tell him, “more than anyone, and I’ve been alone a long time, so I’m learning how to let myself rely on you, but I’ve never doubted you. Not before and definitely not now,” 

“Come here,” He tucks your bodies together and tugs his mask down, “kiss me,” 

You pull yours away, and you press up on your tiptoes to meet his eager mouth.

His nose is cold, and his fingers are icy against your cheek, but his lips are warm and soft and his broad body blocks the gust of wind and snow. 

The knot of anxiety in his chest starts to ease, and you brush your fingers over his mark to seal your own promise back to him. 

“Sweetheart, I,” He sighs, kissing you once more, letting his words fade on his tongue, “thank you.” 

“I’m sorry I haven’t said it like that before,” You say, “but I’m here,” 

He nods, a soft smile on his mouth, and he leans over to kiss you once more in the snowy Paris street, the golden glow of the Eiffel tower still in your periphery. 

When he pulls back, he rights his mask and you follow his lead, “It’s cold, let’s get back inside,” he says. 

You can barely feel it, but you nod, “Okay,” 

“Call me again,” He squeezes your hand once and then lets it drop, “I’ll walk you back,” 

You smile, finding your phone and dialing him. 

Yunho pulls his phone out, and starts to walk back across the bridge, but then he picks up, “Hello?” 

“Hey, again,” You walk backwards slowly, watching him as he tucks the phone closer to his ear. 

“Hi,” He says warmly, and then he turns to catch sight of you when he says, “I just met the prettiest girl in Paris,” 

Butterflies roll through you, “Oh, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He murmurs, “I think I’m falling for her,” 

Easy warmth spreads through your chest despite the chill, “That’s so funny,” you tell him as you turn to round the corner of the bridge again, “I just met this guy,” 

He laughs, and slowly you make your way back to the hotel. The conversation comes more easily now, the lingering threads of any tension dissipating with the wind. You talk about everything and nothing, how to tell the members and what you’re planning to have for coffee in the morning, and by the time you’re at the hotel the snow has slowed to a stop and the streets are empty except for you both, two long-distance lovers across the Seine. 

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The final day in Paris passes by in a blur just like the plane home. It’s always like this after a tour, the absolute exhaustion after weeks of adrenaline and travel, but this time all you want is to be home and it feels like you’re doing the epitome of just going through the motions to get there. 

Yunho had texted you to sleep well on the flight, and you did, only to be shaken awake hours and hours later by Iseul when you were preparing to land. You had only woken up for one of the flight meals and a quick bathroom break, but now as you descend into Incheon you’re itching to get out of the seat more than you normally would be.

 Home. 

You can see it out the window, but you can feel it too.

Up until this moment, everything with you and Yunho had been on a delay, the reality of what you were to each other only something to fully reckon with after the tour, and now here you were. 

Your fingers start to nervously drum against your knee as you prepare for landing, your heart picking up as you touch down, your leg bouncing in anticipation while the plane takes its time taxing to the gate. 

Iseul gives your hand a squeeze when you finally make it off the plane and into the interior of the airport, only this time it’s not to calm your nerves, it's to remind you that you have a role to play. Today the crowd is thick, rows and rows of screaming, clawing girls and you feel your heart rate pick up immediately. They’re not here for you, they could honestly care less about you, but you still have to make your way through them as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

The support staff is always split, half in front of the boys and half behind, an extra layer of bodies between them and the hands that so badly want to touch them. Girls that want their one moment, a quick press of skin on skin, seeking a confirmation of the bond they’re so convinced exists between them and their bias. It’s never bothered you before, just a hazard of being famous, but now you can’t help but feel like they know. One look at you and they can see right through all the careful lies, they can see your tattoo and his, a string knotted from your ribs to his, and you think they might kill you for it. It wouldn’t be the first time a deranged fan took things too far, and your stomach churns with every step as you leave the relative safety of the main gate. 

Getting from the plane to the cars is a well oiled production. You’re used to sticking close to your team and a set of the support staff, head down, hat low, moving swiftly. There’s not much you can do about it unless you happen to be on a different flight, which has happened a time or two while you’ve been working with Ateez but it’s rare. 

For weeks since you first felt the link between you and Yunho, you’ve been able to feel some echo of his emotions through the connection, but as you file off the plane and group up to start working through the crowd, the sensation of him goes quiet. You’ve seen the members as they walk, a crafted persona of friendliness over the full disassociation, but you never expected to feel some shadow of that yourself. Your nerves are swirling, but you take a few slow and steadying breaths, and alongside Iseul and the rest of your coworkers, you start walking. 

It should be quick, it should be painless, but it isn’t. 

Halfway to the doors, a body breaks through the guards to your side, making a desperate beeline for one of the boys behind you, the girl’s face streaked with tears and hands outstretched, her shoulder checking yours hard as she pushes her way through into the interior circle. 

You stumble hard, footing unsure on the slick linoleum, your heart pounding suddenly in your chest. 

You make a tight noise of surprise, hand outstretched to brace your fall as you collapse hard onto your left knee. Bodies bump into you on all sides, stumbling to not knock you over and trample you, but you still struggle to get your feet under you. 

It’s loud in here, the sudden sound of fans and bodyguards, but you feel a spike of alarm shoot through your gut as he comes back online and reacts to your fall. You can’t turn around, but you feel him, and then all at once there’s hands hooking under your arms and you’re stumbling back up to your feet. 

Yunho’s several paces back behind you, layers of bodies away, but despite that he lurches forwards, forgetting himself in the fray. There’s no cameras, no crowd, no thought of familiarity in his mind, only the singular truth that his soulmark is hurt and the need to get to you is all encompassing. A hard hand locks down on his bicep, another on his opposite shoulder. He has half a mind to throw whoever has him off, and then reality clicks back into place.

He watches as Iseul and one of the other managers hauls you back up to your feet while the bodyguards close ranks and remove the cloying girl. 

San, his hand still locked around Yunho’s arm, leans in tight to his ear, “She’s fine, don’t.” 

“You don’t,” Yunho starts to say but Seonghwa claps him on the shoulder again, squeezing him and trying to silently remind him the stakes here. 

“Look,” San urges him as they keep moving, “she’s up, use your head.” 

He focuses, and he watches the way you walk. Iseul is still pinned to your side but you’re not injured, just keeping your head down. He takes a tight breath and focuses on the feeling of the link, searching for your emotions under the bubbling rush of his own. 

Seonghwa’s hand falls away as the group makes it closer to the door, but San stays steady bracing Yunho’s bicep.

Yunho blinks and focuses, and then he feels you. Your own heart is beating fast, a blanket of anxiety mixed with discomfort and blushing embarrassment. There’s no fear though, no pain, and he shudders a sigh in relief. 

This kind of connection with another person is so singular and so maddening. He’s always cared for you, he would have wanted to help even if you weren’t his soulmate, but knowing that you are and feeling it all has him ready to tear the world apart for your smallest needs. He can understand now with perfect clarity why companies are so protective of skin on skin contact with their artists, why there’s no room for exceptions until positions are far more established. A young man with a soulmarked bond would ruin every scrap of his own career if it meant he could touch her, hold her, have her for just a moment. 

“Breathe,” San bids him, “you’re staring,” 

Yunho rips his eyes away from your back and looks to San, “It’s too much,” 

San gives him a wide, idol smile and shakes his head, “Cameras, Yunho,” 

He blinks and refocuses, finding his own photogenic smile and nodding towards the crowd. He waves, he nods, he does all the things a good little idol would do. 

Warmth brushes over his chest, the feeling of your fingers along the loops of your tattoo and the tight fist around his heart loosens, breath finally filling his lungs the right way. Silently, you’ve told him you’re safe, you’re well. He can breathe. 

You’re in separate cars though, and as you climb into the SUV with the rest of the makeup and hair staff, your hands start to shake. 

“You okay?” Iseul finally asks as the doors close. 

“Mm,” You sigh, leaning back into the soft seat, “I hate those crowds,” 

She nods, “Security should have never let that girl get through,” 

“She just pushed me aside,” You rub your tired eyes, “I can’t even believe someone would be that unhinged,” 

“Mhm,” Iseul rolls her eyes, “well, when it’s her one chance to see if her precious Yunho-ya is her star crossed soulmate,” 

A flicker of jealous anger sparks in your gut, “Is that who she was after?”

“Yeah,” A look of disgust passes over her face, “as if fate would actually match up an idol and a saesang, get real.” 

You laugh, and someone else makes a comment about how cruel it would be if that actually happened, but you and Iseul are sharing a private look. Of course none of those girls are his soulmark, not when you’re sitting right here. 

You shiver, you can’t stop thinking about the girl’s tear streaked face as she shoved you to the side. What would a fan like that think about you being her bias’s soulmate? You don’t even want to know. 

The car pulls away, and you feel your phone start to buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and keep it close so no one next to you can see the screen. 

Your body melts at the message. 

Are you hurt, jagiya? 

You tap out a quick reply, needing to not keep him waiting - I’m alright, it just startled me. 

Bubbles pop up immediately as he types - I’ll have a talk with security, there’s no reason for staff to be that close to the fans like that. Too risky. 

You’re in love with him already, it’s impossible not to be when he talks like this. You smile and write back - Don’t, we shouldn’t draw any attention. But it means a lot that you were worried about me. 

Of course I worry - His first message flies in, and then another - I felt you fall, I nearly ran to get to you. 

I’m glad you didn’t. We really can’t give anyone a reason to question things. 

I know. But I wanted to, I never want anything to keep me from you when you need me. 

Jeong Yunho…. - You write back, butterflies in your belly at his words - Are you trying to make me like you?

I thought we covered this, you don’t already like me? - You feel his warmth through the bond and you know he’s teasing. 

You know I do. - If you said more you’d probably reveal how far in this you already are after a few weeks of a bond. 

It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does your cheeks heat - I’ll have to work harder then, to make sure you feel as strongly as I do.

Your mark warms, a punctuated touch of his heart to yours. 

Before you can reply he sends another message - You promise you’re not hurt at all? 

Embarrassed mostly, and my knee hurts a little, but I promise it’s nothing serious, I wouldn’t lie to you. - You reply, touching your mark gently with your fingers to send back the same warmth, the same truth of your words. 

When can I see you? I don’t think I can go days until our next schedule. 

Tonight? You can’t help yourself. 

Where? 

Your stomach flutters at the thought of being alone with him again - My place? I live alone in Seongsu. It’s nothing special, but it’s private and it’s home. 

Text me the address, I’ll find a way over. 

You tap out your address and send it through - Please don’t get in trouble trying to come by.

I won’t - He replies instantly.

  Iseul’s hand gently touches your knee and you look back up at her, “What’s up?” 

“You want a ride home from the office?” She asks, eyes flicking down at your phone briefly. 

“You don’t mind?” You ask. 

She shakes her head, “You’re on the way,” 

You nod, pulling your phone back out to send him a message - Iseul’s driving me home when we get to the office. Are you going to your apartment now?

Yes - He replies - Yeosang keeps yawning, when our managers leave and he goes to bed I’ll come by.

Aren’t you tired too? - You ask him. 

I slept on the plane - He replies, and then another message comes through - If you’re tired you can sleep, I just need to be with you right now.

I slept too - You assure him - I’ll be up. Just message me when you’re close.

I will - He says. 

You send him one last bit of instruction, a little safer if he can let himself into your place just in case anyone sees him coming by - It’s apartment 26B, Door Code is 10824*

He sends a heart in reply, and you tuck your phone back into your lap. 

Soon, you’d finally be alone. After weeks and weeks of waiting, the ache in your chest would finally be soothed.  

Even after Iseul drops you off at home, it takes him hours. By the time you get a message that he’s on his way you’ve nervously cleaned your tiny apartment three times over and ordered far too much take out just to be sure he has something to eat if he hasn’t gotten anything already. 

When you hear him keying your door code in, your heart starts to beat double time. 

He slips in quietly, dressed in a dark gray long coat, black ball cap, and black face mask, and if you didn’t know him just from the cut of his shoulders you could have easily mistaken him for just about anyone in a crowd. 

“Hey,” You feel at ease immediately, and he looks up at the sound of your voice. 

Your apartment amounts to a double wide hallway, your lofted bed above the entryway and bathroom, a small galley kitchenette along one wall, built-in storage and a desk, and then an extremely modest living space. The sight of him in your apartment is strange, he’s so tall he seems to fill up the space of the entryway, a surreal sight now that you’re home and not in random hotel rooms. 

He kicks off his shoes to leave them by the door, and then he steps up into your apartment as he pulls his mask off, crossing the room in three easy strides to get to you. 

“Hey,” He replies, his cold hands cupping your cheeks as he gets close, “there you are,” 

“Here I am,” You smile, stepping closer to him and relaxing into his touch.

 “I,” He shakes his head and his words falter a little, “I know you said you’re fine, I just… it’s nice to see for myself, I couldn’t shake that feeling,” 

You soften at that, “Oh, Yunho, I’m okay,” 

“I know,” He sighs, “I’m sorry it took me so long,” 

“It’s alright,” You slide your hands into his jacket and rest your hands on his chest, “you’re here now,” 

He folds you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you properly and cupping the back of your head with his broad hand, “I’m so glad to be home,” 

Your heart flutters, “The tour felt like years,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Mm,” He sighs, his body melting around you, “our managers wanted to talk about the upcoming week, and Hongjoong had schedule changes, and then Yeosang wouldn’t go to bed, he kept sitting in the living room, I thought I was going to scream,” 

”It’s fine,” You smile against his sweater, “do you have a schedule tomorrow, then?” 

“No,” He unfolds himself from around you, pulling his cap free and running a hand through his messy locks, “I’m off, I don’t have anywhere to be.” 

Warmth fills you, “For how many days?” 

“Three,” He grins. 

“Me too,”  

“Any plans?” He drops his hat and mask down onto your side table where your own keys and gloves are and steps close again.

”None,” You murmur, “sleeping,” 

“Want some company?” He wraps his hand around yours. 

“For three days?” Your eyes widen, “There’s no way you can get away for that long,” 

“I worked it out,” He says, “waiting for Yeosang to get tired,” 

“Okay,” You don’t want to let yourself be excited too soon. 

“I’ll have to go back and pick up a few things,” He tells you, “but I told my manager that my brother might be coming up to town to see me after tour,” 

“Okay,” 

”And that I might drive down to Gwangju with him,” He smiles wider, “and that he could drop me back off before schedules pick back up.” 

“Really?” Your hand tightens on his.

”Really,” He nods, “if you want me here, I’m here.” 

For a split second you feel like you could cry, relief washing through you, and you dive forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “Stay, please, stay,” 

He bends to accommodate your height difference, and ends up wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you in the air, “Good,” he sighs, “I hoped you’d say that,” 

“Yunho, thank you,” You pull back enough to find his face, “god, I missed you,” 

“Me too,” He confesses, “seeing you everyday but not really seeing you, I don’t want to do that again,” 

“It’s so much harder than I thought it would be,” 

He nods and gives you a soft smile, “We made it, though,” 

“Yeah,” 

He dips in and presses his lips to yours, and the last threads of tension unravel, everything else forgotten with his body so close to yours. Yunho sighs pleasantly, pressing close lipped, familiar kisses to your lips, before setting you back down on your feet and straightening back up to his full height. 

Your hearts feel like they’re in sync. 

He smiles at you again, and then finally glances around to take in the space around him, “Oh,” he says as he takes it in, “I like your place,” 

“It’s small,” You shrug, “but it works for me,” 

“That view,” He nods towards your floor to ceiling glass window, truly the only selling point of the apartment, “that’s something.” 

You follow his eyes to the glittering city outside and nod, “It really is,” 

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the view, and then he sighs and looks back to you, “It feels nice to not have to rush away,” 

You nod, “I know,” 

You’re dancing around each other again, now that there’s no deadline hanging over your heads or threat that someone might walk by. You can simply exist. 

“I’ve got takeout,” You offer, making the first move, “if you’re hungry, but if not it’ll keep,” 

He smiles, “In a bit,” 

“Let me take your coat at least,” You stretch out a hand, “get comfortable,” 

He slides it off his shoulders and folds it as he hands it to you, “Thanks,” 

You find a home for his coat in the entryway nestled on a hook next to yours, his shoes already placed neatly side by side with your sneakers. It looks so right, your life against his, and you let your fingers skate down over the back of his coat as you take it in, a smile pulling at your lips. He belongs here, in every way, and for the next three days you’d pretend his presence in your apartment was permanent, solid and immutable in the way it feels in your heart. 

His coat, his shoes, and in a flash you see it all, flickers of a real life together. Toothbrushes, coffee cups, letters in the mail, his keys kissing yours in a dish by the door, books slotted together on the shelf, clothes tangled up in the laundry basket. 

Your chest aches with need, but he just walked into your apartment for the first time, so you shake off those thoughts and turn to him, “What did you have in mind for tonight?” 

“Honestly,” He grins, “being able to talk to you face to face is as far as I let myself get,” 

“Way better than texting,” You smile back, “you want a drink? Beer? Wine?” 

“Sure,” He nods, “Beer?” 

You nod and take the two steps into the kitchenette to locate glasses and two cans of beer, calling over your shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, are you sure you’re not hungry?”

”I’m okay,” You hear him settle onto the couch and it occurs to you that you’ve never had a man in your apartment, at least in the sense of a romantic partner. For years you were going to their places, strangely protective of your own little haven between these four walls, and yet with Yunho you feel comfortable enough already not just to let him inside, but to give him your door code without a thought.  

You blink at the realization, almost letting his glass overflow onto the countertop as you pour. How strange the last few weeks have been, how different you already are. 

“How long have you lived here?” Yunho asks, and you let the thoughts about what it all means fade into the background as you turn towards him. 

“Um,” You do the math in your head, “a few years? Almost four now,” 

“It’s a great place,” He says again. 

You leave the two empty cans on the counter and cross the room towards him, “Yeah,” you nod, “It’s small, but it’s nice and accessible, and in this area anyways I really can’t beat the rent,” 

“Mm,” He nods, “I wish I could say I know what you mean, but idol life is strange.” 

“That’s right,” You nod, “you don’t pay for your place?” 

You settle onto the small couch next to him as he answers, “It’s part of our contract so it’s provided, but if we were to leave the group before contracts are up we’d owe the money back,” 

You grimace, “That’s terrible,” 

He nods but it’s with a slight shrug, “Some companies are worse, KQ being small has its benefits in other areas so that’s never been much of a concern for us,” 

“That’s good at least,” You nod, “and they treat us pretty well, all things considered.” 

“Did you ever work anywhere else?” Yunho takes a sip of beer and makes a noise of satisfaction at the flavor. 

You smile and tuck your legs under you, angling towards him on the couch, “After cosmetology school I worked at SM for about a year,” 

“And?” He asks. 

“Awful,” You groan, “The pay was terrible, and the schedules were worse. It felt like being an intern,” 

“And then you came to KQ?” 

You sip your beer, nodding as you do, “Iseul and I went to school together, she got me in as soon as a position opened up, really vouched for me considering I had a smaller portfolio than she did at the time,” 

“I’m glad she did,” He smiles warmly.

 “What about you?” You ask, “Was KQ your first choice?” 

He turns towards you on the couch, his knees pressed against yours and he rests one arm on the back of your couch, “Not initially,” he admits, “but I had two other competing offers, and something just didn’t feel right about either. Then I met Hongjoong, and I guess you know, that’s it,” 

“A little bit of fate,” You smile. 

“Mm,” He nods, “fate, maybe luck, I don’t care what it was, I’m just happy to be with you now,” 

Your cheeks heat a little, and you look down at the popping bubbles on the surface of your drink.

”I just wish it happened sooner,” He admits, his hand sliding over the cushions to touch your forearm. 

You nod and look back up, “I know what you mean, but, maybe that’s another thing fate got right, maybe we’re finally ready for each other now.” 

He laughs, “What was the word Iseul used? Skittish?” 

You sigh, “Yeah, she’s not totally wrong. I used to have terrible taste in guys, or maybe I wasn’t comfortable opening up, I don’t know, but,” 

Yunho gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “I get it,” 

You cock your head, asking him a silent question. 

“I’ve dated a bit,” He explains, “and I always thought maybe it was me, but no matter how nice or compatible someone was on paper it was just…” 

“Dull?” You offer. 

He nods, “Like I was sleepwalking through it,” 

Your stomach bubbles with a nervous thrill, your chest constricting with anticipation, “And with me?” 

His mouth turns up in a small smile, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I’m more than awake with you.” 

“Me too,” You confess.

It’s quiet for a moment, Yunho’s thumb sweeping a soft line over the veins in your wrist, and then he exhales and drops his glass off on the table.

“Yun?” 

He smiles at the abbreviation of his name and takes your glass away too, “As much as I want to talk all night, and I do, I think I might actually die if I’m not touching you after all these weeks,” 

He reaches for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you over to his half of the couch. You squeak in surprise, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest and another on the cushions, but you end up pressed up against him and almost laying across his chest. Your body relaxes into him instantly, and Yunho lets out a relieved sigh. This, this is what you had been waiting weeks and weeks to feel again, the sureness of his body under your fingertips, the way your heart seems to slow and soothe with every touch. 

 “Anyways,” His voice cracks a little, a soft smile on his face, “you were saying,” 

You’re nearly nose to nose, close enough to hear his breath, to feel the thump of his heart under your palm. His eyes flick over your face, his lips part, pupils dilating wider with every passing moment. 

You try to remember where you were in the conversation, but with him so close and his hot hands on you, it’s all like a distant memory and you laugh lightly, “I have no idea,” 

He grins, his hand brushing your face, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheekbone, and then without a single conscious thought you’re surging forwards to press your lips to his. 

Yunho groans, hands tightening on your back, and when he starts to kiss you back it’s like the catch of a match under your skin, a crackle of need through every nerve ending. He kisses you with unmasked urgency, pulling little pants and moans from your lips every time you break for a breath. 

His hands slide down, cupping your backside, and you hitch a leg over his as you push yourself higher on the couch, desperately seeking more of his hot mouth. 

“Baby,” He breathes between kisses, his tongue flicking against yours as your mouth opens to him.

 Your body rolls on instinct, pressing your clothed core against his thigh. 

He groans again, pulling your body tighter against him and shifting the position of his leg so that his foot is flat on the floor, providing a hard, stable straddle for you. 

You wish so badly in this moment you weren’t wearing jeans, uncomfortably stiff denim that doesn’t let you properly feel the heat of him, but that doesn’t stop you from rocking your body once, twice, and again as you pant against his mouth.

 His fingertips slip under the waistband of your jeans, resting on your lower back while his free hand wanders around to your front, sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb ghosting over your pebbled nipple. 

You feel dizzy, and you press back from his mouth to take a sharp inhale, “Ah, Yunho,” 

He shudders, cupping your neck and pulling you back to his mouth. Mumbled against your lips he offers, “We can talk more,” 

You shake your head, “You really want to talk, right now?” You smile, pushing yourself further onto his lap, nearly straddling him now as you dive back in for another heated kiss. 

He groans, his hands flexing as they find anchor points on your hips, and he tugs you right into place with your pelvis slotted right over his. One of his hands skims up the back of your shirt, hot skin on skin, and you moan pleasantly into his mouth. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He pants between wet kisses, “you’re killing me here,” 

“Yeah?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies. 

He hums a yes, tongue dipping into your mouth to catch on yours. 

You can’t stop the little whine that leaves your lips, “Oh,” you roll your hips, “Yunho,” 

His hips twitch under you, and you can feel the start of his erection as it hardens under your ass. 

“Please,” You kiss him again, pushing your hips down and clinging onto his shoulders. 

His hand snakes up higher under your shirt, and his fingers deftly close over the clasp of your bra. In a second he slides the fabric in just the right way to open the clasp, and you feel the support release as his hand slides up and down the bare expanse of your back. 

“Fuck,” He shudders, “I’m sorry, I should have asked,” 

“Shut up,” You dive back in, your fingers tugging at his sweater, “take this off,” 

He kisses you hard once more and then pulls back, and you lean away still perched on his lap while he awkwardly tugs off the sweater, tossing it to the other side of your couch. 

“Can I,” His hands slide under your shirt, circling your bare waist, his eyes tracking the way your shirt slides up, “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” 

“Off,” You raise your arms and he slides his hands up, pushing the shirt up and over your head until he’s discarding it on the floor. 

When you look back down it nearly knocks the breath out of you. He’s staring at you like you’re a marvel, like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, and it draws your frantic pace to a blinding halt. He smiles softly, and his eyes skate down your body. Your bare neck, black bra straps loosely held on either shoulder, tattoos stretching down over your upper arms, over your elbows, stopping at mid forearm. The sheer mesh of your bra loosely cupping your breasts, nipples standing hard at attention through the fabric and the center of the underwire covering the top half of your red, looping soulmark. 

He reaches for you slowly this time, one hand sliding to the back of your neck while the other skims up and down your arm, “Can I?” He asks again, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your bra. 

You nod, breathless. 

He hooks his fingers under one side and pulls, letting the strap drop and the mesh cup falls slack. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and slowly he loosens the other strap, your bra falling away and landing in your laps. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest now, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his crisp white t-shirt. 

“So beautiful, baby,” He sighs, looking back up to your eyes, “you’re so perfect,” 

You can’t find any words, the way he looks at you and touches you has you rooted to the spot. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He slides his hands over your skin, still stroking your back and sides. 

That snaps you back into reality, and you dip forwards to crash your mouth to his. 

His arms wrap around you as yours knot into his hair, both of you a panting mess as you cling to each other on your sofa. Your bodies move in sync, his hands pressing just right as you roll your hips, only this time you can feel the hot press of his cock on your cunt through layers of fabric and you both moan at the contact. 

“Yunho,” You exhale sharply, rocking again to try and catch more sensation. 

“Jesus,” He pants, his hands locking down harder. 

You shudder at the contact, and you’re about two seconds away from begging him to take you right here on the couch when he puts the brakes back on. 

His hand slides up to catch your cheek, pushing your hair back and drawing your face away from his so he can look up at you, “y/n,” he says, voice a little hoarse, “that time on the phone,” 

You nearly moan at the memory of your silent orgasm, his voice in your ear, but you manage to nod. 

“DId you,” He starts and then backtracks, “I mean, you didn’t mind, or I guess what I’m asking is you weren’t, you know, uncomfortable,” 

His cheeks are turning pink as he talks, and you have half a mind to let him muddle through the thought, but you want his mouth on yours again and you cut him off, “You mean the best orgasm I’ve had in years?” 

He blushes properly then, his ears a frighteningly dark shade of pink and he clears his throat, “So you liked it?” 

Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile, leaning closer to him, your fingers tangling into his hair again, “Yunho,” you murmur, “are you asking if you can boss me around a little?” 

You’re nose to nose again, and his eyes search yours, “A little,” he concedes. 

“Boss away,” You grin, pressing your lips back to his, but he shakes his head. 

“Slow down,” He catches your hands in his and closes them together, pulling you back from him. 

Your brow knits together, “I’m getting mixed messages,” you glance down at your bare chest.  

His eyes flick to your breasts and back up and he huffs a soft laugh, “Sorry,” he manages, “I just meant we should talk,” 

“So much talk with you,” You tease him lightly, “I think I liked the kissing,” 

“Think?” His eyebrow quirks but then he shakes his head, “You’re a flirt, you do a hell of a job distracting me,” 

“Distracting you from what?” 

He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips, “Stop pouting,” he says, “I’m trying to be respectful, here,” 

“I’m feeling pretty respected,” You slip one hand out of his grip and tug at his t-shirt, “kiss me again, let’s double check.” 

He laughs properly this time, shaking his head, “I don’t know if it’s a soulmate thing or a you thing, but God, you know all my buttons, already, don’t you?” 

“I’m confused,” You relax in his lap a little, arms folding over your chest to cover yourself, “we were making out and it was perfect and now,” 

He nods, “I know, let me explain,” 

You wait for him to say more, the soft silence his opening. 

“We know each other,” He finally says, “but I don’t know what you like in bed,” 

“Oh,” Your shoulders relax a little, “well, traditionally we would have sex and figure that out,”

He rolls his eyes at you a little, a smile still on his lips, “y/n,” 

“Sorry, sorry, go on,” 

His hands settle over your thighs, “Every time we touch it feels like a fire,” he confesses, “and I’m trying not to lose my mind before we have a chance to talk about any of the important things, I don’t want to cross a line, I don’t want you to feel rushed or uncomfortable with anything,” 

You sigh, about to say more but he shakes his head and continues. 

“Without talking I won’t know what you don’t want,” He says, “or even if you want tonight to be the night, if you’re on birth control or if we should use condoms,” 

The thought of that sparks a clarity in you like no other and you realize he’s right, you were both so close to losing yourselves you could have made a mistake of the whole night. You blink, nodding this time. 

“And I’m afraid if we keep going like this,” He continues, “if we go upstairs without talking, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away without fucking you and making you mine tonight.” 

Your heart thumps in your chest. You’ve never been held like this, talked to like this, no one in your life has ever searched for your boundaries on their own quite like this, with sex or otherwise and you know suddenly with perfect truth what this night is going to be. 

You nod, and then you smile, “Can I talk now?” 

 “Please,” 

“I’m on birth control,” You start off with the easiest answer, “and I’ve been tested since my last partner, so as long as you have too we can go without condoms,” 

“I have,” He nods immediately, “it’s been a while and that’s part of our regular health screenings,” 

“Good,” You let your arms relax now, resting your hands on his shoulders as you keep going, “so that’s one thing cleared up,” 

He smiles. 

“As for the rest,” You hold his gaze, “I liked how you talked to me on the phone very much,” 

He swallows hard. 

“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re asking,” You let your thumb rub over the pulse point in his neck, “so let me be clear, I like that. I like that you want to take control, and I like that you want to tell me what to do. Very much.” 

He nods, “And,” 

“I’m not the type to do something I don’t want to,” You promise him, knowing it’s as much of a promise to yourself after everything you’ve experienced in past relationships, “if something isn’t right for me, I’ll say it.” 

His shoulders relax under your touch, “Good,” 

“My guess though,” You nudge him, “is that we’re pretty compatible if the universe thinks so too,” 

“I thought so,” He murmurs appreciatively. 

You lean a little closer to him, and his arms slide around your back to hold you as you muster up the courage for the next part of answers to his questions, “For what I like,” you start, “let’s figure out the details together.” 

He nods. 

“For what I don’t like,” You tell him softly, “um,” your voice cracks a little with nerves and discomfort, a tone you were hoping to conceal at least for tonight. 

He watches you fumble over the words, a little crease between his brows as he tries to parse out what’s behind your tone, his thumb dragging a comforting line over your vertebrae. 

You sigh heavily and tell him your boundaries in a rushed breath, “Don’t pull my hair too hard, and if I’m ever using my mouth on you, just tell me before you move, alright? We can figure the rest out as we go,” 

His expression smooths, and his eyes study yours with the start of a question. You didn’t want to go here, not for a while, but something about your connection with him or maybe even just his earnestness makes you tell him more than you ever normally would.

 Again, as he always seems to, he senses the sudden tension in your chest and simply nods before touching your cheek gently, “Anything else?” 

You shake your head. 

He watches you carefully, his touch soft, and then with easy comfort he finds a question, “Do you want to tell me?”

There’s no demand in it, no insistence, only the offer of an outstretched hand, a listening ear. The momentary tightness relaxes inside you and you shake your head, “Not tonight,” 

He wants to ask more, you can see it, but your past sexual experiences no matter how clumsy or good or borderline traumatic should have no space in your night here with him. He’s worried though, you can see that too. 

It’s quiet for a beat as you take that in, and he nudges you gently, “You okay?” 

“Mhm,” You nod, “I promise, but let’s not talk about it tonight,” 

“Alright,” He draws you close, a soft kiss to your lips. 

You return the kiss warmly, pressing the promise of later honesty into your intention and he nods, reading you with ease. 

“Yunho,” You murmur as you part, “I do want it to be tonight,” 

“You do?” He confirms, hand sliding up and down your bare back. 

“I want this,” You cup his cheek, “I want us, and I don’t want to wait anymore,” 

“Say that again,” He lets your words from a moment ago fade, focusing on what you’re telling him now. 

“I want this,” You pull at his t-shirt again, restless energy creeping its way back into your body. 

“Not that,” He dismisses, “the other thing,” 

You know just what he wants to hear, but you play dumb for just a moment, “I don’t want to wait anymore?” 

His hand tightens on your backside, “y/n,” 

“Us,” You smile, “I said I want us,” 

“That’s it,” He kisses your smile, “I like the sound of that,” 

“I want us.” You repeat for him, lips to his, “Now, please, will you take me to bed and make me yours? Or do I have to beg?” 

He groans, “Let’s go to bed,” 

“So easy,” You tease him, sliding off his lap and reaching for him. 

He pushes himself off the couch but slides his hand into yours and tugs you close again, “I’ll make you beg another time,” 

Your stomach flip flops, arousal spiking through you and he smirks at your dazed expression. 

“Cute,” He taps your nose and steps towards the stairs, “you’re sure?” 

You’re about to protest again, a heavy sigh brewing in your gut, but he clears his throat and continues. 

“On tour,” His eyes shift to the floor for a moment, “I know you were anxious about us, and we talked about waiting. I’ll… I know I want you, and I’m going to keep wanting you. I can wait if that’s what you need, we can date,” 

The one good thing about the tour and all your sleepless nights was how long you had to think about this, about him. Your initial panic and fear over logistics and what-ifs had faded in days. He’s here, standing in your apartment, so you trust your gut, and you trust fate, and decide for once in your life to let someone in. 

You step close and pull him towards you, “Yunho, I don’t want to date,” 

His eyes flick to yours, his irises dark, “You don’t,” 

“I said I want us,” You take his hands in yours and direct them to your hips, “I know what that means,” 

His eyes study yours for a moment, and then he sighs, “Good,” he pulls you up into his hold and crashes your lips together. 

This time there’s nothing between you, no schedules or secrets, no indecision or questions keeping you from letting go. With both eyes open you’re diving into each other, and nothing in the world could stop you from tying yourself to him tonight, body and soul. 

You feel him shift on the landing as you kiss, and you pant a single word against his mouth, “Bed,” 

He nods, stumbling up a few steps without breaking your lips apart, one of his hands secure on the railing to guide him upwards. 

You giggle as he tips to the side and rights himself, leaning back and looking down to see how far up he managed to get you both, “Let me down,” 

He eases you to your own step. 

“Get up here,” You tug his hand and take the familiar steps to your loft bed as quickly as you can, dragging him behind you the whole way. 

Once you hit the landing you take your hand back and start unbuttoning your jeans, but you stop at the sound of a soft thump and Yunho’s soft curse under his breath. 

Turning you realize the issue, he’s too tall for your landing’s slanted ceiling, and he must have bumped his head on the way up to your bedroom. You laugh sharply, covering your lips to stifle the sound, “Sorry,” you grin, “are you okay?” 

“Fine,” He rubs the spot, but shakes it off. 

You turn back to the bed and tug the downy comforter open, “You’re too tall, when we get our own place we’ll get high ceilings,”

Something warm floods your chest and then he’s on you again. Yunho spins you around and dips to kiss you, only this time there’s an edge to it, a neediness. He walks you back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and then he wraps his arms around you and pushes you down in one smooth motion. 

Yunho slots himself between your thighs, and you hitch your legs onto his hips as he presses you into the mattress with hungrier and hungrier kisses. 

His lips travel over your jaw, your throat, “You said when,” 

“Hmm?” Your brain feels cottony and light already and you turn your head just a little to hear him again. 

His hand drags down to the top of your jeans, tugging at the zipper, “You said when, not if,” 

“Yunho,” You smile, gasping as his teeth nip at your throat, “we’re about to tie ourselves together for life, did you think I haven’t thought about living with you?” 

He groans, “You’re perfect,” 

You thread your fingers through his hair, “So are you,” 

He tugs artlessly at the top of your pants and sighs, “Need these off,” 

“Take them off me,” You relax your legs, and he shifts back to stand, looping his thumbs in your belt loops so that when he tugs your jeans, they slide off in one smooth motion and drop to the floor. 

“Oh,” He says softly, getting a good look at your now bare legs and the lines of ink that cover so many inches of your skin, “wow,” 

You’ve never been self conscious about your tattoos before, not like this, and you find yourself letting your legs fall closed, “Oh?” 

”I didn’t realize you had more,” He comments but his expression softens into a smile, “they suit you,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm,” His hands slide up and down the plush curve of your thighs, “later you can tell me all about them,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly. 

“Right now though,” He pushes your legs back open and drops back over you, slotting your bodies together and capturing your lips. 

You sigh pleasantly against his lips, wrapping your limbs around him and drawing him closer, and when his hips drop just enough for your core to press firmly against the front of his jeans you moan. 

Yunho groans, his hands wandering. 

You roll your hips, pressing yourself more firmly against the hard bulge of his clothed cock, “S-shirt off,” you pant, tugging at the fabric. 

He reaches back with one hand and grabs the back of his t-shirt and tugs, yanking it free with ease with only the briefest interruptions to your locked lips. When he presses closer to you this time, your bare chest is pressed against his. 

Your brain feels like dizzy stars, like someone picked you up and turned you around in endless circles until you couldn’t help but stagger in his direction, falling over yourself to hold onto him. His hips thrust gently, pushing his hardness insistently at your cunt and you moan into his mouth, your hot breath mingling together in panting sighs. 

“Yunho,” You whine, your core pulsating with need. 

“Yes, pretty girl?” He smiles against your lips, his hand skimming over the curve of your breast, down your side to anchor on your hip. 

You can’t wait anymore, if you do you might combust, and you reach between your bodies to tug at his belt buckle. 

He huffs a laugh, “Yeah?” 

“Please,” You work the leather loop free, “I’m way more naked than you,” 

“Patience,” He nips at your lip. 

His button is open with a frantic tug of your fingers, then his zipper, “I’ve been patient,” you push at his jeans, “baby, please, I need you,” 

“I need you too,” He balances himself on one hand braced on the bed, shimmying out of his pants, and you hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxer briefs to push at those too. 

“Please,” You find yourself begging so easily at the thought of this man pushing inside you. 

“Relax,” He kisses your forehead, tapping your hand out of the way so he can take off his own underwear, “I got it,” 

You ease back on the bed, but between the space of your bodies you watch him. Your mouth runs dry when he’s finally bare for you, and your heartbeat starts to pick up. 

The size of him is intimidating to say the least. He’s long, at least nine or ten inches if you were guessing, but what’s more is how thick he is. His cock is heavy, the kind you’d see in porn and wonder how the women on screen could take it. You can see every vein, the way it stands perfectly straight, the velvety mushroom head already dark pink and slick with the first few beads of precum. 

Yunho settles back above you, his hot, thick length resting on the top of your pubic mound, only the thin cotton of your panties keeping you from feeling him fully. 

”God,” You breathe, still taking him in, “I hope you’re good at foreplay,” 

He squeezes your hip, “We’ll take it slow,” 

You nod, still fixated on the sight of him between your legs, and you try not to think about how far up your stomach his cock comes and what that means for when he tries to put it inside you. Instead you focus on the fact that he’s yours, “We were made for each other right?” You joke softly, “I can take you,” 

He smooths your hair back and tilts your head up, finding your eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he reiterates, “have you ever been with someone my size? Or used any toys like that?” 

For all the sex you’ve had, his question makes you feel a bit like a blushing virgin and you shake your head. 

Something flashes in his eyes, and you feel the twitch of his cock against you. 

“You like that?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from teasing him too much. 

He brushes past your question, “Let me warm you up,” 

Easy relief blooms in your chest, your muscles starting to relax, and he settles his body over you properly to take you right back into a tender kiss. You can feel him hard and present between you, but he distracts you with open mouthed kisses, his hands exploring you slowly until your hips are twitching on their own. 

You’re dripping wet, there’s no way you’re not soaking through the thin fabric of your panties, but his kisses continue like that’s the last thought in his mind. He makes his way across your jaw, sliding lower down your body as he lavishes attention on your neck, over the jut of your collarbones, across the smooth plane of your chest and tops of your breasts. 

“Oh, yes,” Your voice is breathy as he slides even lower in the bed between your thighs, his mouth skimming over the swell of your tits, ghosting past your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, hands cupping your chest and drawing your breasts together, his teeth sink into his lower lip at the sight. 

“Y-yeah?” Your hips arch beneath him, “You like me?” 

A smile tugs at his lips, one hand sliding up to your cheek as he looks up, “I more than like you, y/n,” 

Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart quickening in your chest. 

Yunho smiles a little at that, feeling the echo of your emotions himself, and then he dips his face to kiss your chest again. This time his lips travel in a smooth, reverent line down your sternum until you feel his breath against your looped tattoo. 

Pleasure sparks inside you and you moan softly, one of your hands threading into the back of his hair. 

He hums pleasantly, and then kisses your mark. 

“Yunho,” You sigh, heat flooding your body. 

He kisses you again, pressing a peck to each of the four corners of the knotted diamond, before centering another again and pouring every ounce of his feeling into it through the link. This time, he murmurs what you already know against your skin, “I love you,” 

Tears gather in your eyes, the feeling spilling over into you so all encompassing that it fells you. You tremble in his arms, your eyes locked to the white ceiling above you as you try desperately to steady yourself in the wave of emotion and sensation. 

His kisses start to travel lower, and your fingers card through his hair, “Y-Yunho, I,” 

“Shh,” He shakes his head, lips moving down over your belly as he shifts lower, “just relax,” 

A little piece of you wants to protest, wants to tell him that you love him too, but he settles between your thighs and slides your legs open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, and every coherent thought flutters right out of your brain. 

Yunho kisses your inner thigh, easing himself into the perfect position, and then he wraps his arms around your hips under your splayed thighs, one hand braced on your rib cage and the other closing over your abdomen. 

His nose gently, gently nuzzles against your clothed mound and you hear him breathe you in. 

You shudder, moaning softly, your hand finding his hair once again. 

“I’ll take good care of you,” He murmurs low, kissing your cunt, “I love you so much,” 

“Oh,” Your breath catches as he tastes you through the fabric of you underwear, “p-please,” 

His hand on your abdomen shifts, and he reaches between your thighs to tug your underwear to one side, hooking it under his thumb to hold it in place. You gasp as his warm breath caresses your slit, your hand sliding to brace his shoulder. 

“I got you,” He soothes you, his free hand sliding up and down on your ribs, “I promise,” 

A needy sound stutters from your throat. 

At the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, Yunho groans and you start to tremble properly in his hold. It feels like liquid fire, better than any touch you’ve ever felt, partner, toy, or or own fingers. Yunho’s lips, his tongue, each little brush of his fingers, every bit of him feels like it was divined for you, and you won’t last a minute. 

“Feel good?” He checks, sliding his tongue through your lower lips again. 

“Incredible,” You pant, your hips canting to try and catch more sensation, “I, I c-can’t,” 

He chuckles, the vibrations running straight up your body, “You taste like heaven, baby,” 

Moaning, you grip down on his shoulder. 

“Mm,” He dives in properly, nestling close and all but kissing your cunt, “god,” 

His tongue drives any coherent thoughts out of your head as he gets the feel for your body, the firm tip sliding over your clit and making you jolt under his hands. 

“Y-yes,” You manage, nodding into the pillows. 

“Here?” He breathes, flicking your swollen clit again. 

“Oh, yes, god,” You grip the sheets. 

He hums, his hands tightening on your skin, and then he closes his lips over your bud and sucks. 

“Oh!” You arch back, hand flying up to catch his head and brace yourself, “Fuck, fuck,” 

He stays steady this time, sucking and lapping at you in a perfect rhythm, holding you in place as he finds the perfect combination to have you scrambling in the sheets. 

“Baby,” You moan, the word turning into a heady whine. 

He groans against you, dragging you tighter to his mouth with a flex of his arms. Your head spins as you slide down the mattress, a bubble of taut pleasure building inside you fast and hot. 

“Please,” You moan, your back arching as he delivers a sharp suck. 

His broad hand slides up from its place anchored on your side to cup your breast, and you look down to watch him move. His fingers deftly find your nipple, twisting and pinching gently, and as he takes a breath between licks and sucks to your dripping cunt, his eyes flash up and meet yours. 

A smile flicks across his wet face, and your eyes roll as you collapse back into the bedding to let him work. 

“That’s it,” He huffs as he sucks in another breath, tongue diving back inside you, pulsing and thrusting. 

Your thighs start to shake, your body jerks on its own, and he finds the perfect tempo to take you through - his thumb swiping sharply over your nipple back and forth, his mouth working you up higher and higher with a sustained pressure. 

The bubble of pleasure arcs up your spine and then settles back down, low in your belly, and you gasp sharply, “God, oh, god,” 

He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t change a single thing, he stays steady and that brings you right up to the very edge. 

“I’m,” Your eyes snap shut, your body shuddering, “I’m, c-coming, Yunho, I’m… baby, I’m,” 

He moans through your babbled pleas, and then you break apart beneath him. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wall of heat, and your body wrenches up tight into fits and starts, legs snapping shut around his ears, fingers knotted in his hair, your free hand braced on the wall behind you as your body jerks itself in rolling grinds against his eager mouth. 

He eases you through it, transitioning from sucks to lazy licks with the flat of his tongue, until you’re boneless and melted under him, your legs falling slack open as your eyes stay unfocused on the ceiling. 

“Okay,” His low voice comes back to you, and you feel his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, a kiss to your knee, “that’s it,” 

A shiver runs through you, your body suddenly cold at the lack of contact and you take in a sharp breath. 

“I got you,” He shifts over your legs, crawling up the bed so he can collapse along your one side, and he wraps you up in his arm. 

His cheeks are pleasantly pink, hair a chaotic haystack, his mouth is still glistening from your slick wetness, and he grins down at you breathlessly, “Hey,” 

“H-hi,” You sigh. 

“Feeling good?” He cups your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. 

You nod, relaxing into his touch, “Mhm,” 

“Good,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead and draws you into him to let you recover. 

You melt into his touch, cheek to chest. 

Yunho brushes his fingers up and down your spine and gets his own breath back. 

After a few more moments, you sigh, shaking out the post-orgasm haze and kiss his skin, “I’d say I’m warmed up now,” 

He huffs a laugh into your hair, “Eager,” 

“Aren’t you?” Your hand slides over his bare side. 

“I am,” He squeezes you.

Feeling starts to come back into your body and you smile, wriggling in his arms until you’re in a better position and able to follow his earlier lead. You nip gently at his chest and pepper him with kisses, and you smile when you hear his contented sigh and pleased hum. His fingers slide up and down your back as you try to give him a taste of every sensation he gave to you. 

At his mark, you follow his kisses exactly, and you feel him twitch, his hard length pressing into your belly where you have his cock trapped between your bodies. 

You linger here a moment, “You feel that?” 

At your punctuated kiss against his soul mark he sighs, “I can feel you,” 

You nod, nuzzling into him, “You’re mine,” 

“Completely,” 

“I’m yours,” You murmur, promising him the same. 

“Mine,” He breathes. 

Your kisses travel lower as you work your way down the smooth plane of his abdomen, his muscles twitching under your lips, but as you settle yourself over his hips and work your mouth closer and closer to the base of his cock he shifts under you. 

“Hey,” He catches your hands, closing them in his own, “I’m fine,” 

“I want to,” You smile, a tender kiss to the underside of his shaft before you let your tongue trace up the seam of his thick member. 

He gasps, hips twitching, but he shakes his head, “Wait, wait,” 

You pull back immediately and look up, a swirl of feelings knotting in your gut, “What?” 

He swallows hard and slides his hands up your arms, hooking under your upper arms so he can tug you back up to lie next to him eye to eye, “Not tonight,” 

“I want to make you feel good,” Your hand snakes between you, searching for him. 

“You do,” He sighs as your hand closes around him, “you are, but after what you said,” 

It feels like a bucket of cold water and your hand falls away from his cock. You hate your ex so much for being anywhere near your head at this moment with this man, but he is. He never hurt you, but the way he pressured you and pushed you into things you weren’t ready for has been an ever present shadow in your sex life even now, years and multiple partners later. 

Yunho kisses your lips and tries to keep his tone light, “Another time,” he tells you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“It’s not,” You fumble over your words again, “it’s not bad, I’m alright, I want to,” 

He smiles and shakes his head, “I’d be more comfortable,” 

That takes the wind right out of your sails, and you sink into him, “Oh,” 

“You want to make me feel good?” He asks. 

You nod. 

His hand slides down your arm, drawing your own hand to his aching cock, and he closes your fingers around it, “Touch me, then, we’ll have time for the rest later,” 

He’s hot in your hand and you take in the weight of him as you slide your fist up and down to explore him. 

He groans, “Again,” 

You pump your hand once more, base to tip, rolling your wrist experimentally this time as you work his tip. Leaving any thoughts of the past behind, you focus on him entirely. 

“You’re s-so good at this already,” He sighs, “just like that,” 

Your bodies shift to accommodate, he cuddles you closer with one arm wrapped around you and your legs tangled together, and slowly you start to learn his body too. The way he twitches as your fist drops down to the base and squeezes, his gasp when your knuckle brushes up over the seam of his cockhead. His eyes blow wide when your thumb collects a bead of precum to rub up and down his shaft, and he moans when your fingers tighten and release. 

His free hand snakes between your bodies, finding your slippery center again like he’s been touching you for years. 

“Oh, Yunho,” You part your thighs. 

He groans, eyes slipping closed for a moment, “You’re so wet,” 

You moan as he slides his fingers lower, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. 

“Needy,” He murmurs. 

You do your best to focus on him, but the pressure of his fingers at your wet opening has you jerking your hips. Your hand tightens on his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath, nodding. His cock feels so right in your hand, thick and pulsing, and you shiver, “I should have known you’d be huge,” you giggle against his shoulder. 

He smirks, “Yeah?” 

“You’re tall,” You start. 

He pulls his fingers back away from your pussy, dragging the pads of his fingertips over your clit as he does and you moan, a whiny needy sound from the center of your throat. 

“Not all tall guys,” He starts to say but you pump your hand just right and he curses. 

“Mm,” You slide closer to him if at all possible, “but you’re big everywhere,” 

You punctuate your words with a gentle tease of his cockhead, the pad of your thumb rubbing a circle into the seam that made him pant before, and he twitches, his eyes rolling. 

He swallows tightly and smiles, “Am I?” 

“Mhm,” You nip his chest lightly with your teeth, pumping your hand again nice and slow, “big feet, big hands…” 

“Been thinking a lot about my hands, sweetheart?” He teases, dragging his nails lightly up and down your thigh. 

“Shut up,” You duck your face, planning to double down your efforts on his cock, but he pushes your hand away and rolls you smoothly onto your back. You drop back with a squeak, your eyes flying up to his. 

“You have,” He teases, sliding his palm down your body, a slow and torturous pace on the path to your cunt once again. 

“Maybe,” 

”Fantasizing about my fingers?” His voice is low, warm in his chest, and he slowly presses his middle finger over your clit. 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head drops back, eyes finding the ceiling once again only this time Yunho makes a soft noise, his tongue against his teeth and he shakes his head. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He murmurs, his fingers rocking gently over your swollen bud. 

You are a little, but there’s something in his tone that tells you he likes it and you think about the way his eyes flashed at the idea of being your first partner his size. With every little touch you’ve been figuring him out, and this suddenly feels like he’s allowing himself to want you in the way he needs. If he wasn’t so good at pressing all your buttons you’d try to tease him again, but when you meet his eyes and see the heat behind them, all you can do is melt. 

His next words leave you breathless, “I fantasize about you,” 

“Y-you do?” 

“All the time,” He nods, his hand between your thighs getting bolder as he explores your wet folds. 

“Please,” Your hips arch as the tips of his fingers pass over your entrance again. 

“Oh baby,” He groans, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your thigh, “you need it?” 

You nod, reaching down to find his wrist, tugging him to communicate while your head feels so full of fuzzy pleasure. 

“Fuck it,” He bites his lip as he looks down at you squirming in the sheets, “I’ll tease you later,” 

“Thank g-,” The words die on your lips, punched out of you when he slides two of his impossibly long fingers deep into your cunt in one push. 

He doesn’t wait for you to beg this time, with his eyes glued to your every expression, he reads your pleasure and starts to pulse his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering core with strong, steady strokes. 

“Yes, yes,” Your legs widen, and you collapse into his shoulder, “oh my god,” 

His fingers feel thick and warm in your cunt, crooked just right to reach spots you could only hit with toys, and even then the feeling of those pale in comparison to him. 

“I knew you’d feel good,” He pushes your legs open wide with his free hand, “can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” 

Pleasure arcs up your spine and you moan, your hand flying to his bicep and gripping down hard, “Fuck,” 

He presses a kiss to your shoulder as he adjusts his position and in torturously slow pumps of his hand, he starts to work you open. He scissors his fingers wide as draws them out, and when you feel him push in a third finger as deep as he can go, you shudder against the sheets. 

“So tight,” He murmurs, the words sounding like praise on his lips, “you’re squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches in response and he chuckles. 

“Exactly like that,” He smiles and thrusts his fingers in and out again, increasing his pace as your breath starts to quicken. 

“Y-Yunho,” You jerk against him, the bubble of a building orgasm once again gathering low in your gut and you scramble in the sheets until you’re legs are open as wide as possible, one leg hitched over his. You can’t stop watching him now, the lean muscle of his arm, the way the tendons in his forearm twitch with his movements. Pushing up on your forearms you catch sight of his index, middle, and ring fingers gathered tightly together, glistening with your wetness as they plunge in and out of your fluttering cunt. 

“So beautiful,” He groans, kissing your temple and wrapping his free arm around your back to adjust to the position change, giving his arm enough leverage that he can keep thrusting in and out. 

You moan at the heady sensation of his fingers at your g-spot, hips pushing down into his hand. 

“Want you to come again,” He says hotly against your hair.

 You nod, heels digging into the mattress as your body jerks, needily meeting each stroke of his fingers with your hips. 

“Tell me,” He says. 

“H-harder,” You beg him, sensation cascading through you, “harder, baby, please,” 

“God, yes,” He adjusts, and suddenly you’re pinned back to the mattress flat on your back, one of Yunho’s broad hands stretched wide on your sternum to pin you in place as he fucks you open with the other. 

Perfect, almost painful pleasure has your eyes slamming shut and a desperate whine on your lips, “Oh, oh, oh,” each push in of his fingers punches out a breathy moan, your pussy fluttering as he draws you up to the peak. 

“Tell me you’re close,” He pants, “I want to hear it,” 

Your nerve endings light up, your body arching under the hard press of his hand, “I’m so close, I’m so f-fucking close,” 

“Come for me, baby,” 

Your nails dig into his thigh, the pressure mounting inside you, “Again,” you manage, begging for more. 

His fingers curl, just a little more, “Come,” he says it again, only this time his tone is sharper, deeper and more direct. It’s not a question, not a wish or a hope, it’s a command. 

Your free hand claps over your mouth, stifling a moan and you bite down on the fleshy heel of your hand to keep from screaming. 

“Come,” He holds you steady, “that’s it, let go, let it all go, baby,” 

Your body erupts into ecstatic shakes, pleasure rolling through in wave after wave, but all you can do is let it. 

“Just like that,” He groans, “fuck yes,” 

This time, as your orgasm starts to abate, he doesn’t kiss you tenderly or wrap you up for a cuddle, this time he’s just as frantic as you are. 

“I need you,” He pants, his body over top of yours once again, “y/n, fuck,” 

You blink hard, still a trembling mess, and you see his own desperate expression. His cheeks are pink, brow slick with sweat, pupils dilated with desire as he opens your legs and crowds you with his body. 

“T-talk to me,” He manages, his hand directing his weeping cock to your throbbing entrance, “tell me you still want this,” 

“I want this,” You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer, “I want you,” 

“God,” He’s shaking, his body taut like a rubber band about to snap, and somewhere inside you you can feel the amount of self control he’s exhibiting just to go slowly. 

You moan sharply when his tip drags over your throbbing clit. 

“You’re so wet,” He pants, watching between your bodies as he slicks the head of his cock between your folds. 

“For you,” You breathe, your head feeling cottony. 

“So pretty,” The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and you shiver. 

Need sparks through you, “Please,” you tug at his hip, just a little and he smiles. 

“Tell me if I need to stop,” He manages, his weight collapsing a little as he slowly starts to push his hips forwards. 

You gasp as you start to feel him, your cunt still swollen and pulsing from two back to back orgasms, and his eyes snap up. 

Yunho watches your face carefully as he moves, his body strung tight as he tries to hold onto a thread of composure. It feels normal at the start, but as he pushes in past the head, you feel yourself start to stretch wide in a way you’ve never experienced and your breath starts to quicken. 

“Oh, fuck,” You look between your bodies, watching his slow sink into your wet heat, and swallow tightly at just how much of him is left to take. 

“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.

“Uh-huh,” You manage, “I can feel everything, but god, don't stop,”

He hisses, gripping your thigh with his free hand, fingers still slick with your juices, fighting the urge to lose himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes flicking over the expression of tight pleasure on your face.  

“Don’t you dare pull out,” You grip down on his shoulders and roll your hips roll a bit, taking him in another inch, “you feel so good,” 

He lets out a heady breath, and moves in just a bit more, “Yeah?” 

“Never felt anything this good,” You moan as he pushes in further, your walls fluttering and clamping around his hot length. 

He rolls his hips this time, just a little experiment to drag himself in and out without fucking into you fully, and he moans when your muscles lock pleasantly around him, “God, you really were made for me,” 

“Yours,” You say it like a vow, and in a strange way somewhere in the back of your mind you know it is. A dizzy promise in an almost marriage bed as your bodies sink together. 

His breath hitches, cock shifting inside you, his head dropping so that you’re forehead to forehead, “And yours,” he agrees softly. 

Your body feels hot suddenly, hotter than before, everything a hazy glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom. You feel all at once like you’re in the moments before a wave, the sudden suck back of the water with all the sand slipping away from underneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and sinking into the earth. Your ears catch with a dull ring. 

Your breath is comes quickly now, warmth flushing your chest and cheeks, and your nails tighten on his skin, “Yunho,” 

He adjusts to meet your gaze, and you realize he’s feeling exactly what you are, the thrumming sensation of it all but swirling around you in the air. He blinks hard, “I’m.. I need,” 

You understand him without words, you know exactly what he needs because you need it too. Through the fog of sensation, you pull lightly on his shoulders and hitch your calves on his hips, drawing him in deeper, “Please,” 

His hips drop, seating himself just a little more and you moan at the stretching sensation. He’s holding himself back, clinging to the one clear thought that he promised he’d take care of you, but his resolve is crumbing apart before your eyes. 

“Yunho,” You cup his cheek, begging him with your expression to let go, “I need you,” 

He swallows hard, his chest flushed red, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. 

The words flood out of you, a whispered confession just for him, “I love you, please,” 

He exhales in a rush, a wide smile breaking across his face, his eyes shining, and without any more hesitation he thrusts forwards and sinks his full length inside you. 

You moan sharply, wrapping your arms around him as he drops his body down on yours, sweat slick skin pressed flush together. The hot dizziness grows, and he finds your lips, moaning against your mouth as he kisses you hard. Your bodies start to move in sync, a tandem push and pull as he rolls into the cradle of your hips, your breath tangled together as you rock in the sheets. 

Yunho leans his forehead against yours, pumping his hips slow and firm, “I love you,” 

The sensation grows, filling the air around you and a chill rushes up your spine, the hair on your arms standing up at attention, the magnetic pull between your bodies so forceful you don’t think a single thing in the world could drag you away from him. Emotion rocks through the link, and then all at once you feel it snap into place. 

Your tattoo burns, the brand igniting just like when you touched his cheek for the first time, and you suck in a sharp breath. Yunho’s hips stutter in pace, sinking himself deep until your bodies are nestled together with every inch of him buried inside you. 

He’s breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around you, hands trembling, “I can feel you,” he leans up an inch, smoothing your hair back from your face, “you’re,” 

His words die on his lips but he touches his chest and you nod, you feel him too. One single heartbeat, one breath. The link before was nothing, a mere echo of this, a blurry photograph now sharply in focus, and you reach up to brush your fingers along his cheek, his lips, a ghost of the sensation along your own face. 

“How is this real?” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve seen the movies, read the books, you’ve talked to people who have found their soulmates before, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You feel him inside you as if he were a part of you, his skin your skin, his emotions, even the shape of his thoughts.  

You understand all at once why people say it’s possible to die of a broken heart. If you ever lost him, lost this… 

“I’m here,” He interrupts your internal spiral, dipping to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere,” 

“How did you,” You shake your head in strange awe of the feeling, “what is this?” 

“I don’t know,” He kisses you again, “I just knew, I felt it,” 

Tears spill over, snaking back into your hairline, and you press your palm to his chest, sliding down over his tattoo. Words fail you, all you can feel is the overwhelming breadth of your souls together. How could anyone live without this, how could anyone believe this isn’t real?

“Don’t cry,” He soothes, wiping the tears from your temples with his thumb. 

“I’m happy,” You manage, finding his eyes again, “Yunho, I’m so happy,” 

He grins, his breath catching in his throat as he lets his forehead rest on yours again and he nods, “Me too,” 

His love thrums through you, tangible and solid, a truth you didn’t know you could have. You’re grinning too now, an elated laugh on your lips as you wrap your arms around him, “Fuck,” you thread your fingers in his hair, nuzzling into him, “you love me,” 

“So much,” He confesses quietly, “I didn’t know I could love someone like this,” 

“Me too,” You press your lips to his, sighing into him, “I love you too,” 

The kisses feel like his love actualized, nothing more true than his mouth, his need, and yours reflected back in the mirror of his desire. You moan as another wave of heat floods through you, and Yunho shudders.

For a moment, there’s nothing more to say, tangled together in your bed in the middle of Seoul, time seemingly standing still just for you. Tightly locked together, you both start to move again. Each slow pump of his hips down is met with an upward roll of yours, his cock slowly stroking in and out of your pulsing center, your arms wrapped around each other as you pant and moan. 

You crumble apart together, still deep beneath the dizzy waves, his mouth hot against your ear as he releases inside you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him, drawing him in, holding him inside.

**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!

[hellsslibrary]

Can I request what rin, sae and hiori would do on the reader's birthday (you know nsfw stuff ♡)

Happy Birthday to Me or How I Lost the Ability to Walk Even Though I'm a Top (This is a quote from some manga I can't remember the name of but it fits here).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I have absolutely nothing to say but if anyone is reading this on their birthday then happy birthday to you sweeties!!

!!Warnings: male!top!reader, bottom!characters, they're all sub but Sae is a little bit of a dom (I'm just a sucker for the "pathetic" top trope or something, you don't get it), Hiori's scenario is very funny and weird, very. In Sae's mentions clothes (you know), in Hiori's mentions video games (yeah), Rin is nothing special, he's the most normal one in this scenario I swear. Otherwise just praise, a little teasing and a very enthusiastic reader here.

Hiori Yo

"Is this...? What is this, Yo?" you ask in incomprehension, staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out what you actually see here.

Well, more precisely, you understood what you were seeing, but you clearly didn't understand why he was showing it.

"This is us, in Sims 4... Having sex. What is unclear?" he answers by tilting his head to the side with a slight blush coloring his cheeks, looking first at the screen and then at you.

"So my gift is watching porn with us, or rather with toy models of us?" you laugh when two people who look like you change their positions in a game that looks very good... unrealistic, but who really cares.

"No," Hiori shakes his head slowly, removing the headphones around his neck and placing them on the table, then poking you in the chest. "They can do it on any surface and in any position... If you like a certain pose, then we'll try it in reality."

You just blink like an owl, not understanding anything at all, but taking the mouse from him and poking it on the countertop, choosing random poses from the list, watching how sim of Hiori literally bends in different poses, which looks pretty hot, even if stupid.

It takes about fifteen minutes while you're pointing at various pieces of furniture and looking at all sorts of poses from different angles, sometimes you both giggle at some strange animations until one catches your eye.

"It," comes out of your mouth, and Hiori stares at the screen, watching his sim sit on the table while the life is practically being fucked out of him, judging by the pace of the thrusting.

"Really? Dear, it's a little..." the word doesn't come out of his mouth when he bites his lip in embarrassment, but after hesitating for a couple of seconds, he gets up from his chair, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and sitting on the edge of the table. "I'm already prepared, so you can just slide inside."

You immediately smile like a child who has received the most coveted sweet, and you almost frantically undo your belt, which is not particularly possible because of the trembling in your fingers. So you just unbutton your fly and take out your dick.

"Really? Can I do it raw?" Hiori hums in response to this question, and then shrugs his shoulder vaguely, spreading his legs as an answer, and squeaks when you squeeze his hips right there.

Hiori's back arches when he feels your cock sliding in at a much more gentle pace than your sims, who continue to fuck behind Hiori's back. His fingers grip the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as his feet lightly scratch the table.

"Wrap your legs around me, please?"

Yo silently obeys, grabbing your shoulders instead, absolutely spoiling the pose, but neither of you really care anymore. After all, today is your day, and if that's what you want, then Hiyori wants to obey.

He moans softly into your neck as his legs lock over your tailbone and an intermittent whimper escapes his lips when your cock finally touches the right spot inside him. A point that makes him see the stars and the moon, which only you can bring.

The blue-eyed man feels his cock twitching against his stomach, and his orgasm is approaching embarrassingly fast, he just wants to cum. Why is it so fast? Who knows... But obviously not from the disgusting sounds of the game in the background.

"Cum for me, come on," you whisper, sliding your lips over his neck, making him tilt his head back in bliss.

Your teeth outline his adam's apple, causing his breathing to stop and his nails to dig into you this time. He bubbles something unintelligible when he feels your hand on his cock, rubbing its current tip, making him cum almost at the same second, which makes you slow down the thrusts slightly, making them deeper to prolong his pleasure for a couple of seconds.

"... More, go on," Hiori mutters after a dozen seconds, licking his dry lips and lifting his half-closed eyes at you and exhaling. "I'm all yours today, so keep going... I'll tell you when I'm at the very edge."

Sae Itoshi

"Are you going to stare at me with that expression for a long time? At least close your mouth," Sae says, looking at your surprised face in the doorway while you stare at him for about a minute, still trying to figure out what's sitting in front of you.

"That's... you... wow..." something inarticulate weakly escapes from your lips until you finally leave the doorway, closing the door and approaching Itoshi.

Of course, nothing too surprising was sitting on the bed. It was just Sae. In your usual T-shirt. In regular shorts. With a normal expression on his face. With damn attractive thigh-high stockings that accentuated his thick and muscular legs too well. Yes, you know, the usual Tuesday of any person.

"Do you like it that much?" Sae asks when a slight smirk blooms on his lips, watching you sit down in front of him, spreading and sliding his legs as you please.

"Yes, it suits you damn well, it's simple gorgeous... Strangle me with them," you whisper, squeezing his hips and exhaling contentedly, feeling the elastic muscles under your fingers.

Sae's fingers lift your chin and he gives you a light peck on the forehead before kissing you on the lips. His kiss is slow, almost savoring, as he weaves your tongues together, tugging at your shirt to get you up.

You lower Sae to the bed, continuing to kiss him, and then pulling away, lowering your lips lower, kissing and occasionally sucking on the delicate skin of his neck, causing a soft sigh to escape his lips before he stopped you at the edge of the T-shirt.

"Too fast. Don't go any further than the neck... Today is your day, but you have to earn it," the Japanese man whispers against your lips and then you feel his fingers slide into your pants while his other hand unbuttons your fly and releases your cock.

Your breath catches when you feel his fingers wrap around your heated flesh, and your face immediately finds itself in the curve of his shoulder, causing him to briefly pat you on the head.

"I'll give you what you want anyway. Just wait."

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering when Sae's thumb runs over your slit, and images of what he might let you do to him when the time comes are already spinning in your head.

Your hands are clutching the sheets on either side of his face, and his lips are lazily sliding over your neck, sucking on your skin, forcing you to push into his hand, which he freely allows.

"Sae... I will cum now, please," you exhale and feel only the nod of his head at your side as he speeds up his hand movements a little, making you come embarrassingly quickly with a groan.

Sae kisses you on the temple, removing his hand after a couple of seconds, when the buzz finally subsides and gently pushes you to your side, sitting up straight and taking napkins from the table, wiping his hand and your penis from the sperm.

"Good boy. Take a break and let's continue... There's a lot more under my clothes," Sae whispers, turning away to the trash can and deliberately bending over too much, exposing a thin strip of panties under his shorts, which makes your soft cock twitch in anticipation of the next round.

Rin Itoshi

"Is that really all you want? You can ask for more, you know," Rin whispers, leaning over you, shaking his head slightly and taking your condom-wrapped cock in his palm, stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes! Definitely, that's it. Please? I just want you to do this," you whisper, making Rin sigh, but nod and lower himself onto your cock slowly.

He exhales sharply as he takes you completely and places his hands next to your head, considering that he's almost lying on top of you and looking up at you with his turquoise eyes.

You just smile and kiss him on the cheek, which makes him frown slightly but blush, and he begins to gently move his hips. Of course, it's not very convenient in this position, but he promised.

"You're wonderful from this angle, otherworldly, Rinnie," Rin just tightening around you from the compliment, leaning in even lower and gagging you with a kiss, but hey, you're not complaining.

You put your hands on his cheeks, knowing full well that he's going to scold you, because he wants to take at least one round without your support, so you're not taking any chances.

Your tongues slide against each other, and then he pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his forehead on yours, maintaining his slow rhythm, looking down at where you connect.

"You're very deep, I want more," he whispers breathlessly, closing his eyes and focusing on his movements, trying not to rush too much, but to make it pleasant for both of you and not cum faster than you, not this time.

"Then take more, I don't mind," you close your eyes too, feeling his eyelashes lightly brush your forehead as his face slides forward a little and you squeeze his biceps, absolutely enjoying him.

"I love you. Happy birthday again," Rin says, forcing you to open your eyes and you are met with a surprisingly soft smile, albeit almost imperceptible on his face but fuck.... "...Did you just cum?"

"Uh..." You laugh shyly, grabbing Rin's hips to stop his movements, when they get a little painful from your sensitivity. "I love you too."

"The gods... Fuck me already, you're pathetic when I ride you," the younger Itoshi mutters, although there's no real mockery in his words, he just sighs when you flip you over, switching places and wrapping his legs around your waist.

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ hell-bound ! ” :

﹙ top demon lord x bttm angel fem reader﹚. 𖹭 ݁

. . . valerius ariti x fem angel reader !! 🍓:﹙ demon ˖ hex rhytaari character ﹚

you lose a bet to a demon-lord and find yourself at the foot of his throne. what do you do when the price is to be paid in your body? an angel like yourself, corrupted by a demon

﹙ cws﹚: explicit content ˖ dubcon ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ riding ˖ degradation ˖ creampie ˖ bet making ˖ corruption kink ˖ virginity loss | wc :1.0k

﹙ receipts﹚: people be sleeping on vale a bit too much like aahhhh this man is SOO

꒰other treats: guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who lost a bet not only to a demon — but the most formidable Lord of the Abhorration. What a fool you were. A silly little pigeon fresh out of the divine realms. Fluttering your new pair of wings and flaunting your newborn freedom. Fly away, little bird. Fly right into the demon’s clutched. His clawed hands will welcome you greedily. With sweet smiles and sinister stares. Here you are, knelt before his throne. Quivering. Feathers flutter to the ground with your tremble. You can barely look upon him. “Poor little bird. . .” “Wh-What do you want from me?” “What I want? Or what I crave?”

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who the Lord of Hex’s has taken quite an interest in. You didn’t expect the tender touch across your face. He rose from his throne to caress you like a frightened, wounded woodland creature. One of the purer critters that trotted through these vast, cursed lands. He tilts your head up so that you are met with his bronze face. The sheer magnificence of his androgynous features adorned with long rivers of gold flowing from his head. Compliments to the gilted chains dangling from all around. Why must a being of malice look so mesmerising? Was a demon or a siren? Even his voice lured you in. Poor little bird indeed, fluttering to the maw of a beast. “I have always pondered how an angel must feel . . . like zenith? Perhaps I should not judge a book by cover. Might you be dirtier than the pits from which we crawl?” His grin speaks his thoughts. Even still, you cannot bring yourself to withdraw from the claws wrapped around your jaw. If anything, you melt. Like an angel in heat. What a disgrace.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who becomes the perfect fucktoy for such a cruel being. Sprawled out on his lap as he leans back into his throne. You worship his cock with the way you bounce upon it. Even if you struggle. Even if your walls clamp and weep around his large girth. All you’ll receive is a clawed clap to the ass. A squeeze of the fat and a crooned voice in your ear. “Is this how you treat a Lord? Pitiful.” Yet still he’s rubbing at your clit with a sly thumb. In slow, tight circles that echo your sobs through his temple. You’re dripping all over him with every orgasm. Staining the base of his dick in a perfect ring of cream. Oh, how he throbs within you.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who is made to face forward while he pounds up into you. Shakes your sacred body like a covenant shattering. He cares not for his servant’s curious eyes. To the demons that stare upon you with just as much greed. But they know not to touch. Valerius does enough of that with his hands of heat trailing all over you skin. Mapping out the divine flesh that is all his. Squeezing at your bouncing breasts. Yanking you back so that your spin arches. Ass flushed into his lap as he delivers a series of fast, rough fucks up into your sweetspot.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who gets creamed full of a demon’s cum. Shouldn’t you be ashamed? Instead you’re spilling whorish moans and pleading for more. Grinding your hips down into his pathetically. Even daring to try and grip at his arms for support. He’ll let it go this time. Your fucked-out face and drooling countenance earns all of his forgiveness. “Oh? Does the pretty little bird want more?” His lower set of arms snatches your waist and slams you all the way down. So that you are forced to take his behemoth of a length. Your cries are like prayers, your squeezing, pink walls like praise. “Tell me, my dearest angel. . . have you been touched before? Or am I the first? A demon? Fucking the virginity out of this tight little cunt. . .”

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who does indeed get the virginity fucked right out of her. Once he is tired of making you a ragdoll on his lap, he bends you over his throne and displays the true stamina of a demon. His first set of hands clamp around your throat. The third set clings to your hips and slams you back into his squirting cock. The second does it’s due diligence at feeling every crevice that is now his. Your perky breasts pinched between fingers. Your tummy bulged with his huge dick splitting you open. Your folds so needily taking him in. Your clit that’s all swollen and just begging for the slap of his palm.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who gets all nice an bred by Valerius, if only to be set free as though nothing happened. You’ll stumble through the divine realms still feeling his seed for weeks. Grind up against whatever you possible can and imagine its him. Haunted through the night of endless dreams where he’s fucking you out on your bed. Reminding you that you’ll never truly get away from him. Clawing, gripping, owning you for all you are worth. As if you wouldn’t offer yourself as sacrifice to him any day.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who crawls back to the Abhorration begging for his attention. And you’ll find it in the form of claws wrapped tightly in your hair. A mouth full of that same cock that stole your virginity. Choking away at his addictive, sinful cum. All while he’s crooning above you. Through slithered golden hues and sharp, sinister grins. “Suppose I have myself a pretty angelwhore now, hmm? Why not rid your wings and stay here? After all,” a rough thrust to the back of your throat. Another round of his copious amounts of demonic seed. “You are far too tainted by a demon’s hands. Not to mention his cock. That’s it precious. Keep sucking.”

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[markleessodalite]

What Scares Them About Love: NCT Dream

Haedcanon: what are the dreamies most scared of when it comes to falling in (or out of) love?

content: mentions of general insecurity, but nothing specific... i don't think there's anything specific to warn about here but lmk if i miss something!!

Mark:

 Mark is scared of being a fool for love. Mark likes to think of himself as a clever guy, quick on his feet, nothing and no one can get the better of him. On the other hand, though, he knows how he gets when he’s in love. Its like any finesse or composure he has flies out the window as soon as that certain someone appears. Yeah, its cute and charming, a usually cool and collected guy suddenly becoming a bumbling, rambling mess– unless a lovesick Mark lands in the hands of the wrong person. Mark knows he’d be so easy, too easy to take advantage of if he’s in love. And he’s terrified of being the fool who gets his heart played with, just because he was too dumb to notice the game.

Renjun:

Renjun is scared of not being enough. So much of his life is already under scrutiny, the very nature of his career is dependent on millions of people watching his every move, every performance, every look on his face at every second. You might think that with him being judged so often, he would become immune to it– but its different when Renjun is in love. People talk about love making you feel light and secure, safe, like nothing in the world could hurt you now. For Renjun, love just makes him remember all the things he’s insecure about, and all the ways someone might be dissatisfied with him. He’s scared of wanting to be everything for someone, but not being able to amount to anything.

Jeno:

Jeno is scared of exposing himself. He’s most comfortable when he can keep others at arm’s length, and there’s a very, very select few people in his life who actually get to see Jeno’s true self. Yes, he’s a member of one of the most popular idol groups, he performs to thousands of people on a regular basis who completely adore him, he posts a selfie that he took two seconds to snap and the comments are flooded with praise and affection. But he's in control of all of that– he knows exactly what to say and do to get the exact reaction he wants from others. When it comes to love, its an entirely different story. He knows that for a relationship to truly grow, he must show his true self to someone. And he knows that when he shows his true self, his most vulnerable insecurities and transparently naked thoughts, he loses all control over how that someone thinks of him. Jeno is so afraid of someone seeing him in such an exposed state, and deciding that they don’t like what they see.

Haechan:

 Haechan is afraid of effort. Not in the sense that he’s lazy– in fact, its the exact opposite. Haechan might just be the busiest man on the planet, and he puts an extreme amount of care and effort into everything he does. He’s constantly moving, constantly thinking, he’s not sure he even knows how to stop moving or thinking. But there’s only so far he can stretch himself without tearing apart at the seams. So really, what Haechan is afraid of is giving what little of himself he has left to somebody, and it ends up not being enough. He doesn’t have enough time, enough focus, enough energy to really give to someone. His biggest fear about love is losing it altogether because the effort he puts in just isn’t enough.

Jaemin:

Nothing about love scares Jaemin. The only thing he’s afraid of is seeing his love story end. Jaemin is a romantic at heart, he loves the very idea of love, and love truly means something very special and important to him. So, he doesn’t give his love easily to just anybody. He’s picky, because to him, his love story is meant to be the only love story he’ll experience, and it’s supposed to last until the end of time. He’s built to love someone until his last breath; he is not built to suffer through love fading, to go through a break up with someone he thought he’d be with forever, to watch everything he hoped and worked for dissolve into dust. When Jaemin’s incredibly high standards prevent him from finding someone, its not because he has an aversion to love. Jaemin is just terrified of what happens when love ceases to exist.

Chenle:

Chenle is afraid of backing down. Chenle is a prideful man, confident and sure. So confident and sure that he’s sometimes uncompromising, and a successful relationship is all about compromise. Chenle is perfectly aware of how important compromise is, yet there’s just something in him that refuses to let go, refuses to give up, refuses to compromise when he knows that he’s in the right. In a way, Chenle knows that a potential roadblock on his journey to love is his tendency to sabotage himself. He’s not just afraid of conceding defeat, he’s afraid that his stubbornness will be the death of his love.

Jisung:

Jisung is afraid of what love might mean for him. Jisung is still so young. Not to mention with how busy he is, how much stuff he has going on in every aspect of his life, how he’s still trying to fit into his own skin and figure out who he is… he just knows that if he were to fall in love at this stage in his life, it wouldn’t last. It would result in some sort of heartbreak that would change him in some way, and Jisung is terrified of what that change could be. He doesn’t want to become someone hardened and bitter, he doesn’t want to be heartbroken and sad all the time. He’s so scared of feeling all the emotions that come with love and the end of it, that for him, it seems better to avoid it altogether.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 12]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of prior character death, mourning/ grieving, going to a grave site.

"Good afternoon. How can I hel- Hongjoong, what can I do for you? I wasn't supposed to come in today, was I?" Your eyes widened as you scrambled for your phone, wanting to check what day of the week it was. Maybe you were not supposed to open your store today.

You've only been working at the mansion for about 2 weeks so you were still getting used to the schedule of going there to work.

"No, no, (y/n). It's not a work day today, I actually came for another reason." He cleared his throat. You nodded your head slowly, waiting for him to say something.

"I know your store is open today but my mother's grave is completed, I was just told this morning." He informed.

"Oh, already..." You replied.

"Yeah, I guess it's faster than I expected. But anyway, I was about to go see and was wondering if you would like to come with me." Hongjoong asked.

"What...?" It took a while for his question to sink in. You were not family, why would he ask you?

"If you're okay with closing your store, the decision is up to you. I could bring you another day if you'd like." He offered.

"No, it's not that... Uh..." You didn't really know what to say or how to react.

"(y/n), if you're not ready. That's fine too. We can go another day." Hongjoong spoke in a much softer tone. He could sense and see the distraught on your face but didn't know the true reason why you were hesitant. Seonghwa was the one that suggested he ask you along to his mother's grave site.

It was good advice. But Hongjoong was worried, would you judge his indifferent reaction when you were both there? What if you cried and he didn't?

"N-No, I'm ready. We can go. All the orders today have been collected. Just... give me a sec." You collected yourself to reply him.

"Of course. Take your time." He said. You nodded and gestured for him to take a seat at the work table while you went to lock the front door up and turned your sign to 'CLOSED'.

"I'll just make a bouquet for her." You informed him and went to pick out the flowers.

"Let me pay for it." He stood up, fishing for his wallet.

"No need to." You shook your head as you headed to the work table. Hongjoong watched as you skillfully trimmed the flowers and put them together, wrapping them with a nice, sage green paper.

"Would you like a separate bouquet from you?" You asked him when you were finished.

"It's fine, just one from you is sufficient." He replied, looking at his phone to avoid eye contact with you. You didn't protest or argue, merely nodding and going to grab your things. You hung up your apron and went to the bathroom to adjust your clothes and hair.

"I'm ready to go. Thank you for waiting, I wanted to be a little bit more presentable." You smoothed your dress down.

"There's time to go back to your place to change, if you want to." Hongjoong informed you as you picked up the bouquet to cradle it in your arms.

"I'm good. Thank you." You bowed your head. Once Hongjoong and you were outside, you locked the back door.

"This way." He led you to the car. Despite Seonghwa's advice to take a driver, Hongjoong insisted on driving his own car on his own.

"Thank you." You gave him a small smile when he opened the passenger seat door for you to enter. You laid the bouquet in your lap, careful to not let the flowers get ruined.

"Wow." As Hongjoong went to the driver's side, you looked around the interior of the car.

"You have a nice car." You blurted out.

"Thanks." Hongjoong, for the first time that day, smiled. He even let out a little chuckle at your abruptness. Of course it was a nice car, a Porsche 911 Heritage, it wasn't easy for Yunho and Mingi to procure it. But it was one of Hongjoong's dream cars and he loved putting the roof down to drive in the country side.

"Would you like to put the roof down?" Hongjoong asked as he started the engine. Your eyes sparkled with curiosity before you shyly nodded your head.

"Alright." Hongjoong pressed the button and you watched as the roof folded and tucked itself in the trunk.

"That's cool." You said. Thankfully, it wasn't sunny out. And you didn't know that Hongjoong was doing all this to lighten the mood.

"Let's go." Hongjoong played some soft hip hop songs in the background before beginning to drive. You carefully held the bouquet as you looked out the window.

The wind felt nice against your cheeks and it didn't feel so stuffy as it would have been in an enclosed car.

"Tell me if it's too warm or uncomfortable and I'll close the roof." Hongjoong said as he drove.

"Okay." You nodded. Even though the car ride was enjoyable, you couldn't help the way your heart was racing as you got nearer to your destination, it was like an impending doom.

Your fingers nervously drummed against your knees. You told yourself you needed to maintain your composure and your emotions in front of Hongjoong, even if you didn't know what your reaction would be when you get there.

"I... didn't prepare any offerings... We can stop by a fruit store if you want." Hongjoong said.

"It's okay. Maybe next time." You replied. You didn't ask Hongjoong why, he must have his reasons for not preparing anything, and you didn't want to make him feel guilty either.

Soon, all the buildings disappeared and you saw all the graves come into view, all lined up on the green fields.

"We're here." Hongjoong parked the car by the side of the road.

"Take your time, (y/n). There's no need to rush." That was the most he could comfort you with. He knew if he went any further, he would be crossing the line.

"T-Thanks." Your voice was shaky, an indicator of your nervousness. You looked out at the fields, not knowing which was Mrs Kim's.

"Okay, let's go." You looked at Hongjoong. He nodded and got out of the car, coming over to open the door for you.

"Follow me." He checked his phone for the directions that the cemetery director had provided him earlier this morning. You walked behind him, careful not to disturb or trip over the other graves. Hongjoong would occassionally stop and look over at you to make sure that you were okay.

"Should be right here." Hongjoong stopped and checked the name on the grave, it was his mother's name and her picture. You looked, indeed it was her.

"Go ahead." You said before Hongjoong could ask you to go first. It was only right, he was her real, biological son.

"Um..." Hongjoong felt so awkward because he didn't know what to say. You moved back a little in case he wanted some privacy.

"Hey... I brought (y/n) here. You probably want to see her more than me at this point... I'll let her do the talking, there's nothing much for me to say to you." Hongjoong mumbled with a bow.

You couldn't really hear what he said but it did sound like he mentioned your name to her, not that you would pry.

"I'm done. Not much for me to tell her." Hongjoong said to you. You nodded and stepped forward.

"I'll move to give you privacy-"

"Please don't... Could you... stay here? Please?" You cut him off, almost begging him. He was shocked by your request, he assumed you would have wanted to speak to his mother privately. But nonetheless, he nodded his head and just stood behind you.

"Hi, omonim. How have you been? I hope you've been well, I'm glad your resting place is finally complete. I-I brought you your favourites." You stuttered as you laid the bouquet down.

"I miss you... Sometimes... I wish it's still you walking through the door..." You smiled softly as tears welled up in your eyes.

"But I hope you're at peace now, free from everything." You quickly wiped your stray tears.

"I'll come visit you more often, bring your favourite tea and snacks. Just like when you used to come during lunch or tea time to chat with me." You smiled through the tears.

Hongjoong watched from the back, you genuinely had a connection with his mother. You spoke more fondly of her than he ever did.

It was like you were her real child while he was the stranger.

"Sorry." You wiped your tears and stood up to face Hongjoong. Seeing your tears, Hongjoong felt a slight ache in his chest. A feeling he has never felt before.

Screw it, Hongjoong wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest. Right now, he knew you needed comforting, he didn't care about lines and boundaries. He could feel you hesitate for a few seconds before your hands gripped the material of his suit jacket and you softly cried into his chest.

As he held you, he looked over at his mother's grave behind you. Not once, since the news of her passing, has he cried. While you have cried a lot for her.

Yes, maybe the feeling in his chest was some sort of twisted guilt for not crying over his own mother's passing.

"Sorry." You cried. You didn't want to breakdown and cry, much less cry on Hongjoong's chest but you couldn't help all the emotions.

"It's okay..." He replied in a whisper.

Hongjoong and you stood there, he didn't make a move until you were ready to let go first. And once you regained composure, you did that. You pulled away and wiped your remaining tears away.

"I'm so sorry!" You said, horrified at the wet patch that was now on Hongjoong's shirt and the crumpled ends of his jacket where you had gripped too hard.

"It's fine, (y/n). Don't worry." He assured, patting your head. You felt your cheeks heat up at that gesture.

"We can go now..." You said softly.

"Are you sure?" He asked. You nodded your head. Hongjoong let you say goodbye to his mother, he didn't want or feel the need to, then you both headed back to the car. After you got in, Hongjoong kept the hood up, unsure if you wanted to just relax in the car.

"Can we put the top down again?" You requested. He hummed and pressed the button to put the hood down. With that, he began to drive out of the cemetery.

As he drove, Hongjoong glanced to the side, seeing you close your eyes as you felt the wind against you.

"I don't know how I'll be in a normal car again." You suddenly spoke with a smile on your face.

"Well, whenever you want to go for a drive, let me know." He chuckled. Hearing you say that, Hongjoong decided to take a longer route for you to enjoy the scenery for a bit.

"Would you like to go for some food or do you want to go home?" He asked.

"I don't mind going for food, if you don't have to go back to work." You turned to him with slight worry on your face.

"They don't need me. Let's go." Hongjoong said. You didn't know where he was taking you but you were fine to let him choose, you were not a picky eater.

"Hope you're okay with street food." Hongjoong told you as he parked the car by the street and pulled the hood up. You looked up at the restaurant selling street food, you were not expecting this. For some reason, you had the impression that Hongjoong and his brothers only ate at expensive places.

"I love street food." You replied. He smiled and came out, going to open the door for you. The both of you found a table by the side to sit together.

"Hongjoong sshi, what can I get you?" An older lady came to take your order.

"What would you like?" Hongjoong asked.

"Gimmari and soondae, please." You requested. Hongjoong added that to the order, adding on some other regular stuff like odeng soup and tteokbokki.

"Coming right up." The lady and Hongjoong exchanged friendly smiles before she walked to the kitchen.

"You come here often? The lady seems to know you." You asked as poured the tea into cups and handed one to him. He received it with a bow of his head and took a sip of the cold tea.

"Yeah, you probably thought that I only eat at expensive restaurants, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you kind of stick out with your suit..." You mumbled, embarrassed that he somehow knew what you were thinking.

"Well, I don't blame you for assuming that. My brothers and I do usually eat at nice restaurants because of business and somtimes because my brothers own those restaurants. But that doesn't mean we don't enjoy our street food." Hongjoong said.

"Your brothers own restaurants?" You asked.

"Yeah, there are others too. They branch out into all different types of industries. It's good for overall business and they're passionate about it." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Wow... That's impressive." You said. You suddenly felt so small, you were just a florist. Who were you compared to them?

"Here we go." The lady came with a tray, placing all the dishes in front of you two.

"Thank you." You and Hongjoong said together. She smiled at the two of you and left. Hongjoong reached over to take the cutlery from the box and handed a set to you.

"Eat up. We can order more if there isn't enough." Hongjoong encouraged. A nice silence settled over the two of you as you ate.

"The food is really good." You said as you chewed.

"Told you." There was almost a proud smile on Hongjoong's face. You watched as he avoided all the vegetables on the plate. You tried your best not to snicker, remembering how Mrs Kim told you that Hongjoong never liked to eat his vegetables. But you didn't want to ruin the mood by mentioning Mrs Kim.

"I just don't like vegetables... If I can choose not to eat them, I don't." Hongjoong said, noticing you were staring.

"Ah! I wasn't judging..." You shook your head. Hongjoong snorted, thinking he caught you in a lie. But thinking about Mrs Kim again made you feel a little sad.

"My mother told you that about me, didn't she?" Hongjoong knew from the expression on your face.

"I..." You didn't know what to say.

"It's fine, (y/n). At some point, I have to come to terms with the fact that your relationship with my mother is vastly different from mine." He said. You looked down, not wanting to meet eyes with him.

"It's not your fault and I shouldn't have made you feel like it was." He continued, remembering what the other Ateez members told him.

"No, Hongjoong. It's okay. I... I understand." You said.

"Let me go get more soup." Hongjoong stood up, taking the bowl to go to the front. You looked at his back as the lady refilled your shared bowl then she reached over to pat his shoulder with a smile on his face as they conversed.

"Hyung! What a coincidence to meet you here!" Loud voices were heard from the entrance and your gaze shifted to see Yunho, Wooyoung and San standing at the entrance of the store.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hongjoong hissed with a frown on his face.

"We just went to the casino and wanted to drop by for a bite. It was really a coincidence." Yunho grinned.

"I don't know what you're up to... But go away." Hongjoong glared. He took the soup and headed back to your table. But of course, they didn't listen to the captain.

"Hey, (y/n)." Yunho greeted. You gave a shy wave to all 3 of them.

"Do you mind if we take a seat?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded, gesturing to them to sit down.

"You can tell them to go, you know?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at you. Your eyes widened, you definitely did not have the courage to tell the 3 of them to leave.

"She won't do that. She's not as mean as you, hyung." San scoffed. You've only been working at their house for 2 weeks so you were still getting to know them. One thing for sure was that despite their fierce looks, they were all really nice and for some reason, really liked to mess with Hongjoong.

"Get your own food." Hongjoong scolded, slapping Wooyoung's hand when he wanted to steal of a piece of soondae.

"It's o-okay! I d-don't mind." You stuttered, shaking your hands. They were the ones that approached you first as you were working, showing their friendly side and trying to become 'friends' with you.

"I want kimbap." San said. Yunho raised his hand to add more food orders. Your eyes widened at the amount of food they added on.

"They're big eaters." Hongjoong said to you.

"I can tell..." You giggled, watching Wooyoung pour their tea. San's injuries looked a lot better, compared to when you first went to the house and bumped into him.

"Your order is here." The lady came back and put all the food down. Your eyes widened at all the dishes.

"You'll get used to it soon." Wooyoung winked. You blinked in confusion while Hongjoong flicked a toothpick at him.

"Don't listen to him." Hongjoong said, checking his phone.

"You guys snuck out? Hwa is looking for all of you." Hongjoong looked up from the device with a frown of disapproval at the 3 sitting at the table. The 3 just gave innocent shrugs, continuing to eat their food, while Hongjoong replied to Seonghwa.

"Do you always sneak out of work?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"When you own the company, it's called an 'extended lunch break'." San corrected with a playful smirk. Hongjoong let out a long sigh and shook his head.

"Please don't think the entire company is like that, most of us are actually hardworking." Hongjoong said.

"Hey, we're hardworking too, hyung. We just like to take breaks." Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, not all of us are workaholics." Wooyoung added. Hongjoong facepalmed, there was no way he was winning against the 3 who were against him.

"Since we're done with our food, I can take you home now, if you want." Hongjoong said to you, ignoring the others.

"Aww, wait for us. We're almost done too." Yunho added.

"We can wait for them. I'm not in a rush to go back home or anything." You said.

"(y/n), you shouldn't be giving in to them, it's not good. Don't start giving into them and what they want." Hongjoong adviced. You giggled at his words, he was speaking about them like he was their father. It was nice to see such a dynamic between them, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were very much like parents to the rest.

"Nonsense. Don't listen to him. We're great, the life of the party! You'll always have fun with us." Wooyoung winked, slinging his arm around your shoulders.

"That somehow does sound unsettling." You chuckled, making the rest at the table laugh.

"Wooyoung. Arm." Hongjoong pointed out with a threatening glare. Wooyoung did obediently remove his arm from you.

"I'm taking (y/n) home." Hongjoong declared.

"See you next time, (y/n)." The 3 were honestly not that bothered, they would see you when you came to work at the mansion anyway, much to Hongjoong's annoyance.

~

Series masterlist

[princesssarisa]

In the endless discussion of female gender presentation in fiction and pop culture, I've noticed a slight trend.

When a fictional tomboy and girly girl are portrayed as foils to each other – especially if they're sisters – the majority of fans will claim that the girly girl is "privileged" while the tomboy is the underdog. But a decent number of other fans will backlash against this idea and claim that the tomboy is the real "privileged" one.

I've definitely seen this in discussions of Little Women's Jo and Amy, and if I'm not mistaken, it's common in discussions of Arya and Sansa in A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones too.

This is the gist of the debate:

Fans of the tomboy see the girly girl receive the social rewards that are won by performing femininity and ladylike manners, while the tomboy is socially punished and shamed for not being ladylike. They empathize with the tomboy's jealousy of the girly girl, and they resent the girly girl for it, viewing her as the one who has all the luck and gets all the love and respect.

The counterargument is that the tomboy actually receives more love and respect than the girly girl does. If not from society in general, then from family members and friends, especially male ones. They adore the tomboy and find her boyishness and wildness endearing, whereas they judge and ridicule the girly girl for her "silly," "vain" feminine tastes, even if they love her too. They don't give her as much attention or understanding as they give the tomboy, which must be very hard for her, and which the tomboy fails to appreciate.

It's an interesting debate, because there's always truth on both sides.

In a pre-20th century setting, and maybe today too, there is no "privileged" gender presentation for girls. Tomboyishness might be seen as endearing in a child or a teenager, but even among the people who love the tomboy the most, there's an understanding that can only be temporary; as a woman, she'll need to be "tamed" and learn to perform femininity. Meanwhile, girly girls are mocked as "silly," "vain," "prissy," etc., but it's also understood that they're behaving exactly the way they're supposed to behave. Young men in period settings might have more friendships with tomboys, but it's the girly girls whom they usually favor romantically. Both forms of gender presentation are punished in some way or other. Misogyny makes it a no-win situation.

The claim that girly girl characters get less attention from their families than their tomboy sisters is probably subjective, though. I'll let individual readers decide whether or not they think Ned Stark neglects Sansa, the March parents favor Jo over Amy, etc.

We also tend to see the claim from fans of the girly girl character that the author is biased in the tomboy's favor. But that's another issue for another post.

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

There that was again. That side of her that challenged him with teases. So suddenly there were family secrets he was not allowed to hear about – yet. And the mild hint that they truly had no true conformation on their supposed marriage yet. It was just asusmptions on their part.

For a second that caused a strange pull in the depths of Somnus’ guts. Did he truly want to hear their families’ true plans? What if he did not like it? Right now they could pretend that they would be joined, but… why did he care so much for that now?

He should not.

This was foolish. Whatever plan was made for them, it would be alright, would it not? If there was no wedding happening, he could just go back to the life he had led before. It would be easy, simple, really. That was what he wanted after all… right?

Right…

The supplies Aerith needed would be brought to her, no questions asked. All but one…

Somnus’ head whipped around to her this time, eyebrows raised in wary suspicion: “…what?”

That… an odd request. And yet it made sense, too. Somnus just had never thought he would be asked to… stand still for someone to paint. In a soldier’s uniform. He had worn that quite a lot in earlier years. So, it was not unknown to him. It still made him give her a certain look, as if he wanted to judge her for it.

“Well, I think you would make every guard nervous with such a request – so I get little choice in this, don’t I?”

Everything collected and brought to Aerith’s new chambers, Somnus had sent for a servant to gather one of the uniforms from their armoury. The same Nikolaos had worn. It was simple, yet one worn with pride. He had not been a recruit, he had served and gained his rank in years of loyalty.

It still felt strange to stand behind veils that parted off part of the chambers and slip out of his own comfortable toga to put on a soldier’s uniform. It was so quiet in her room. he could only hear the soft clatter of the art supplies she probably was sorting right now. While adjusting the belt and leather bands around his legs, Somnus let out an amused breath. What Aerith got him to do…

“Do not ask me to pose certain heroic ways… I do not think I was ever taught how to do that.”

That added little comment made Aerith exhale a breath, not quite a laugh, but still tickling her amusement as she glanced Somnus beside her. Indeed. She had Somnus for all of that now. He could take pride in handling their war efforts and armies...

... their. That was still something that made her pause. To think, they would be each other's partner.

She quickly looked away. Could feel a creeping warmth up her neck that she hoped wouldn't reach her cheeks. If she looked a little more rosy-faced she would blame the sun.

Thankfully he broke the silence again. Tethered her attention back onto a topic that made it so she was able to look him in the eye without feeling captivated. When he finally asked his question, she simply gave him a smile. The kind of smile she would give when she intended to not give an answer over.

"That I will only tell you should we get married." Aerith spoke plainly. "You don't get all of my secrets." Especially when that particular one wasn't even hers. It was a well-guarded secret within her family which he had not officially joined yet.

"We still don't even know if we got that part right." she pointed out to him, shifting the flow of conversation away from her mother's weakness.

Aerith paused when she saw a familiar face. Nova. One of the Lucian servants. She requested highly specific and wildly unusual items, an urn, paints and brushes for the clay, and the other young woman did not even flinch at the weirdness.

Then she glanced at Somnus. "... if you're going to join me while I paint, how do you feel about wearing a certain uniform? Or shall I steal one of the guards from their duties?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The cafe is not very busy. You’re relieved. It’s been a strange morning. Jada offered to make you coffee. After last night, her kindness is even more suspicious. It’s not like her to do anything without a motive. 

You sit and mull her sudden change in attitude. There’s only one thing’s that changed that makes any sense. This is about Thor! She knows you went berry picking with him and then you went to his house. She recognised him before you did and even now, you don’t really know too much about what makes him so famous. 

Jada always said she hated having you as her hanger-on. That she couldn’t wait to be rid of you. She’s only jealous because you made a friend better than any of hers. That has to be it. Mystery solved! 

You’re not stupid enough to tell her off to her face. If anything, your sister is spiteful. Maybe, just for now, you’ll accept her little favours. After all, for as mean as she’s been, you deserve a bit of peace. And she’ll deserve the tiny taste of vengeance when you don’t let her use you to get close to Thor. 

You stare out the window, one hand on your mug, a cinnamon latte dolloped in cream, and your other under your chin. It’s not a bad day out. Sunny. It takes you back to the gazebo and the birds. You wonder what Queenie’s doing. Should you message her? You don’t want to smother her. 

“Pardon, is this seat taken?” The silky timbre brings you upright in your chair. 

A smile breaks across your face, “Loki! What are you doing here?” 

His cheek ticks, “may I sit?” 

“Oh, of course,” you pull your mug closer. 

He lowers himself into the seat across from you. He has a paper cup in hand, black coffee darkening the interior. He sniffs and looks down his nose at your drink. 

“What is that monstrosity?” 

“Cinnamon bun latte!” You explain. “It’s delicious.” 

“Full of sugar,” he girds. 

“I don’t like bitter coffee,” you grimace. 

“Then you don’t like coffee,” he rebukes. 

“Not really. I’m aware of my caffeine addiction,” you shrug. “I’m so happy to see you. What are the odds?” 

His green eyes flick dulcetly to your face, “it is not by chance. My brother’s... companion requires company.” 

“Queenie?” You brighten up. He nods and hums. “Oh, I was just thinking of her.” 

“How convenient,” he slithers. 

Silence swells between you. You sip your latte to stave of the tension as he watches. His gaze is intense, it makes you want to melt. You know he’s judging you. 

You touch your nose, “do I have cream?” 

One corner of his mouth curves, “no cream.” 

“Mm, okay,” you pout. 

“You don’t happen to be hiding from your sister? Did she cause you more trouble?” He wonders as his eyes narrow. 

“Jada? No, she’s been... weird.” 

“Hm,” he nods. “Would you prefer to stay and finish or shall we be on our way?” 

“Oh, uh, if you’d rather go now, sure,” you stand and knock the table. The latte tips and splashes your shirt and pants. 

You pick it up but too late. Most of it is gone and you’re soaked. Loki moves so quick, you think he’s running away in humiliation. He simply swipes up a handful of napkins from the counter and returns to you. You thank him as you take a few and dab at your clothing. 

“I can be so clumsy,” you mope. “Sorry.” 

“Are you burned?” He leans over you as he watches you sop up the mess. 

“No, I’m okay. There was so much sugary cream that it wasn’t very hot,” you look up at him with a grin. His brows draw together at your joke. 

“Mm, you are clever when you want to be. Would you like a replacement before we’re off?” 

“No, it’s fine. I think maybe the universe agrees with you. I don’t need it.” You take more napkins and press them to the fabric until you’re mostly dry. 

“I could drive you to your home if you require a change.” 

“That’s a lot of back and forth. I’ll survive a bit of damp clothing.” 

“It will stain, won’t it?” 

You look down at the floral fabric and the matching purple pants. It might but you’ll just be with Queenie. She won’t mind. 

“Just clothes,” you shrug. 

He clucks, “very well, I suppose.” 

He brushes by you and wipes off the table top. The smell of cinnamon stirs with your efforts. A barista approaches with a roll of paper towel. 

“Here,” she smiles, “we’re making you a new drink.” 

“What? You don’t have to,” you take the roll. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. You’re here all the time.” She says, “don’t worry too much, we have a mop. We can get the rest.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks, again,” you babble. 

She goes back to the counter and you turn back to Loki as he watches her goes. He wears a pensive expression. “You make rather a lot of friends wherever you go.” 

“Friends? She’s just being nice,” you say. “Like me. I try to, anyway.” 

He says nothing and bunches up the wet napkin. He opens his hand to take yours and you give them over. He takes them to the bin and dumps them. You gather up your purse and empty cup and follow. You drop it in as they call your name at the counter. 

You go over and take your new drink, “thank you so so much.” 

“Have a good day,” the barista trills. 

You grin and turn to Loki as he takes his cup from the table and meets you at the door. He opens it for you and you thank him. You bop toward your house and he huffs. 

“Wrong way,” he reproaches. 

You stop and turn back to him, “oops. Habit. Oh, I see your car.” You point past him and scurry over. “Did I tell you how much I love that colour? Green is such a... regal colour, don’t you think?” 

“Regal?” He echoes. 

“Oh sure; jade, forest, emerald, even citrine has a certain vibe.” 

“Vibe...” he drawls. 

“Oop, I’m sorry, I’m rambling again. I know you prefer silence.” You touch your mouth apologetically. “I’ll zip it.” You pretend to turn a key and put it in your pocket.  

You peek over at his slightly less agitated expression. Jada is sometimes mean for no reason but she is right that you talk a bit too much. You smile and he turns his attention to the path ahead. 

“I don’t mind conversation,” he says. “So long as it isn’t inane.” 

[bummblebe]

Adorable Too

TfP Bumblebee x Reader

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You're all too infatuated with a certain yellow mech, much to his initial confusion to your change in attitude.

Song choices <3

> Fool - Frankie Cosmos

> Glue Song - Beabadoobee

You weren't sure how long exactly you had these feelings for, but after discovering them as of recent, they've never left your mind since.

You can only pray that your revelation of admiration to a specific scout hasn't resulted in any noticeable changes in your behavior. Once you came to the conclusion (after catching yourself shamelessly fawning over him in silence during a most recent mission), like a hopeless coward you did.. absolutely nothing about it. You considered limiting visits to the base to lessen the chances of making a fool of yourself, but that might've looked more suspicious if anything.

So, here you are, at the autobot base trying desperately too hard to push down the feelings and pretend that you didn't discover anything major about yourself in the past few days.

It was proving very difficult with Bumblebee standing right behind the designated human-sized couch you, Raf, and Miko were all sitting on, the other two competing against each other in some racing game and completely oblivious to your internal battle. Their game was the last thing you could pay attention to; his presence being right there had you feel like your back was on fire, any sitting position you readjusted to never felt comfortable enough for longer than ten seconds, a lingering sense of uncomfortable insecurity engulfed your every move as you couldn't help but constantly think of the possibility of him just perceiving you. Crazy to think that a couple days ago you never would've thought twice about minute things like where your hands should be resting, whether your hair was in the way or a mess, or both. What's the battle, the struggle, one might ask? It's being on a couch.

You've never had an issue sitting on a couch before--you would swear on it, ..right now just wasn't a great example of that.

After realizing that maybe your sitting is a little too rigid for what's meant to be and is a casual hangout between friends, you silently take a breath and slowly but surely start to lean back to meet with the comfortable plush of the couch.

Though, rather than being met with the couch, instead your back made contact with the scout's servos.

Instantly, as if a shock was sent throughout your body, you flinched forward in surprise, disconnecting the contact immediately. You noticed the spot on your back that unintentionally touched his hand felt the hottest, almost as if it were a burn; nothing bad, just in the sense of an overwhelming warmth. 

A whir in the tone of a question sounded from the scout behind you, and in quick thinking you tried to play off your unexpected reaction in a continued swing to hoist yourself up from the couch. Reaching your hands above your head, you gave out the pressure in your lower back in a satisfying stretch, not realizing the words he was saying.

"Uh- ..Sorry about that, Bee. Didn't mean to bump you," you spoke apologetically, turning your face so that he wouldn't just be looking at your back, but you couldn't get your eyes to leave the railing to properly make eye contact.

Bee responded with affirmative albeit hesitant beeps.

That seemed to have done the trick.

Without removing her eyes from the screen, Miko tilted her head towards you. "Where ya headed off to?"

Quick, come up with something.

"Oh, you know.. 'just going to go get something from.. from our pantry real quick yeah- you guys want me to get you anything while I'm there?"

"Nah, 'm good thanks," Miko uttered, clearly preoccupied.

Nailed it.

"Raf?" You queried next. Unlike Miko, Raf actually looked at you to answer your offer. "Oh, I'm alright [Name], thank you." You smiled and with that, turned to the descending ladder (and judging from the groan of frustration paired alongside an exclamation of victory from behind you, Raf's politeness appeared to be his detriment in-game). Just as you were about to turn your body to climb down, a few familiar beeps stopped you. Looking up, Bumblebee stood right in front of you, in front of the ladder, with his head tilt to the side.

The only words you were able to pick up on were '-want.. ... help you?'

Judging by his now outstretched metallic palm just below you, you filled in the rest that he just offered to take you to the bottom of the ladder himself. 'Do you want me to help you?' it was probably was.

This was nothing out of the ordinary, he's done this for you many times before. The problem came from you not knowing how to properly act anymore. Any other day you would've gladly accepted without thinking twice about it, and right now is mostly the same, except now you're thinking too much about it.

You nodded your head, “Oh sure, thanks Bee. I’d love for you to help me.” 

Bee, though with no visible mouth, gave a smile evident through his bright optics as he cooed a few excited chirps and beeps, you stepping off the platform and now in his clutches. 

You looked up, returning an innocent smile towards him.

Looks will forever be deceiving because internally you were in a panic.

Why did you say ‘love?’ You’d love for him to help you? How obvious can you be? You kept your eyes closed, not daring to look at him as you basked in your inner embarrassment.

You felt the small rush in your stomach as Bumblebee leisurely descended his hand down upon the lower ground as gently as he could. Stepping off, you shot Bee a thumbs up and quickly trodded off to the small room directly underneath the upper landing that you and your fellow humans deemed the 'pantry,' a place where you four kept a stash of snacks and drinks. It was the only remaining human-sized room (more like closet) that wasn't being used so why not make it a snack hole? Truly, it started with Miko keeping her snacks there 'temporarily' (as she swore) but it soon escalated to you, Jack, and occasionally Raf contributing to the snack haven; now the four of you have sustenance at your disposal whenever any of you visited the base.

Even with all that, upon entering you nearly forgot that you lied to get here so you could avoid an awkward situation and you were stumped on what to actually bring back.

...

"What's the matter Bee?"

The mech looked up to face Rafael, apparently during a game intermission as Miko was checking something on her flip phone. After hearing the question though, she looked up, all too interested. "Why're you asking? Did Bumblebee say something?" Raf only shook his head, "No it's not about anything he said I just thought he--..well--are you feeling down, Bee?" He redirected his attention back to the scout.

Bumblebee shook his helm, waving his servos in front of him. Beeps and churs left his chassis in a series pertaining to an explanation.

"What about [Name]..?"

Miko scrambled on her knees, fully on the couch as she faced the yellow bot with intrigue. "What's it Raf?" she questioned in ardor. "Bee's just a little worried about [Name]," Raf translated. Miko frowned, "How come? They seemed alright to me?"

A continued stream of robotic whirs and boops left Bee with different dips in tones natural of someone speaking, even if unconventionally.

"So? What's he saying?" Miko asked in loud, exaggerated whisper.

Raf, in response to Bee, tilted his head, "Different how?"

"Beep, beep zip. Zrr beep kr."

"Really? I guess that's a little weird.. Think they're feeling okay?"

Miko bounced in her spot on the couch impatiently, "Hello? Gonna fill me in yet?"

Raf gave an exhausted sigh. "Bee just noticed that [Name] seemed really dismissive of him today is all."

Miko rolled her eyes and whisked her body around, slumping in the couch and returning her attention back to her flip phone. "Eh, I wouldn't dwell."

"How are you so confident?" Raf asked, curious at how quick the girl just dismissed the concern.

Miko tilted her head towards him, "Come on, there's no way they hate Bee or anything."

At this, Bumblebee's optics swirled for a good few seconds. Realization hit when he gave a few worried beeps, looking away from the two other humans in disquiet. Raf was about to give comfort to the distressed mech. "In case they think you're annoying or something just be extra nice to them! That'll help," Miko advised wisely. Raf winced at her choice of wording. "I really don't think that's all too necessary.. especially considering-"

Bee was quick to intercept and hastily utter determined whirs and beeps in response.

Suddenly, you emerged from underneath the main platform, head peaking out after climbing the ladder, not having been paying any attention to the conversation that had just ended. You huffed yourself over the edge, arms hoisting towards the platform, still below the upper-ground level. In your hands was a pack of honey-graham crackers.

Honey --> ....bee..

Ah. You winced at the unintentional yet reaching similarity to who's been on your mind all day.

At least it wasn't that obvious. Hopefully.

A few beeps from behind you entered your ears and before you could even register what they meant, you were gently lifted off of the ladder and quickly placed fully on the grounding. You continued to stand there, snack still in your hand, as you slowly turned your head to face the yellow mech. "Thanks- thanks Bee but uh- uhm.. what was that for?" You cursed yourself for the stuttering, begging that your red face wasn't as noticeable as you're imagining it is to be.

He only responded with a few of those charming sound signals of his, optics spiraling as he did, to which you couldn't stop the smile creeping up to your face. From the sidelines, Raf and Miko exchanged unknowing glances, the first shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty towards the other.

You shook your head and swiftly returned to your spot on the couch. You sighed. "Adorable..," giving the quietest of mutters as it was drowned out by your expertly timed opening of your retrieved snack.

Or so you thought.

Bee's optics gave a spin, the teal lights from his eyes dilating.

After a few seconds of shocked silence, he chirped out six excited beeps, and Raf nearly stumbled in the resumed video game (much to his dismay and probably to Miko's pleasure.

You also nearly choked mid-chewing, face growing hotter as your heartbeat intercepted within your eardrum.

The only words you were able to pick up from him were 'adorable too.'

End Notes: Fact about this one-shot: When the reader accidentally bumped Bee on the couch, his hand was actually purposefully reaching for their hair to try to help pushing it aside because he wanted the reader to be comfortable after he noticed they kept shifting so much. I think it's sweet!

[colossrat]

How Captain Marvel Discovers Batman's Secret Identity

Batman give so much of him for his acts, in bruce wayne or in batman, he is a fabulous actor. his posture, voice, microexpressions idk, everything humanly possible and impossible, he did to keep people as far away as possible from connecting his masks.

but there wasn't a 100% guarantee that no one would notice… well, he was very careful with the most obvious and even the least obvious things, but he wasn't such an idiot to think that no one would ever, under any circumstances, would find out about him. This has happened before, my god, Tim found out in the most unlikely way he could think of at the time. still, he was in shock. He was in the meeting room with some other heroes waiting for the time to start, and there he was facing Captain Marvel…

"What did you just say?" batman asks, he wanted to hang himself right there when he realized that there was a tremor in the back of his voice.

The captain's eyes widen, almost panicked.

"oh... i didnt mean nothing by that! its just... I don't want to offend you! I just couldn't help but notice that you have lip fillers… like, relax! It's super discreet. I only noticed it probably because I can see the needles' holes, even though it's half healed. and-- Is that why you didn't come to the last meeting? It's recent, right? I know you weren't like this the last time I saw you. but like, zero judgement! I know how society judges men in these scenarios, I think it's super cool that your masculinity is strong and resistant to criticism- Not that you will receive criticism! again, it's SUPER discreet, I only noticed because I notice things like this occasionally… I think."

he was falling over himself with his words, clearly nervous because he commented on what he noticed without meaning to, perhaps out loud… batman swears it felt like he wasn't even talking to him, whispering to himself "lip fillers?" Batman doesn't know that this was little Billy, confused by the information that Solomon dropped into his mind.

Batman didn't try to stop the babble of words that came from the other hero's mouth, still in shock from the fact that he had noticed that he had had a cosmetic procedure. Well, it's not like he could appear like Bruce Wayne out there with his face all crumpled up from taking so much beating, he needed the procedures to continue with a playboy face… he just never expected anyone to recognize such a minimal change. since he only carried out the procedures in a super subtle way... but marvel noticed and not just that.

The captain's eyes squinted, now falling on the bat's chin and jaw.

"Is that botox…?"

They look at each other in pure silence. Marvel adjusted his posture, uncomfortable with the eye contact.

"I'm going to keep my mouth shut, sir, Batman sir, don't worry. No one will notice anything. It's really cool, by the way, you're like a jewel, a very polished and.. jovial one" and he then walked away to sit on the chair more as far away as possible.

Well, it wasn't the end of the world yet… Batman tried to ignore it. He tried not to die of paranoia over the fact that someone had noticed such a small detail. Everything was going to be fine, the chances of the captain also knowing that Bruce Wayne recently had lip fillers and some botox were minimal… but not zero.

He really tried not to be so paranoid… but it was difficult, and he ended up distracted during a gala and got kidnapped, because of course he was. and of course that for some reason it was doctor sivana working with lex luthor, of course then captain marvel got involved in the rescue. OF COURSE.

He tried to avoid eye contact immensely, giving all his attention to Superman, who was also there. Clark was confused, he thought maybe it was because he hadn't revealed his identity to Marvel yet. But he really needed to go if he wanted to get information for his article later, so he left Bruce Wayne in Captain Marvel's hands with an apologetic expression.

Bruce tried to be positive, and it screamed a lot of things. He tried to think that there he was a playboy and it was super common for him to also have some cosmetic procedures on his face, maybe Marvel wouldn't assimilate him and Batman like that out of nowhere… but then he soon remembered that Marvel could see the needle holes, the microscopic, healed holes from the needles… it didn't take two seconds of looking into each other's faces for the captain to turn white paper pale.

His mouth opened like a dead fish's, and Batman knew he saw it. fuck.

they stared at each other for a few minutes. silent and harrowing minutes. They were literally frozen in that moment for so long that Superman came back with the information he wanted, with a super worried expression because he didn't understand what happened there.

The captain, noticing the new presence, realized that he had been in shock for too long already.

"ahm… so, bruce-- sir, bruce wayne… sir… sir wayne. mister…? ah-- um… I'm going home… in silence… and I I'll keep silent… ok? again, it's super discreet and you don't have to worry, ok? Maybe a little, but relax. Superman, sir. bye..."

and he flies away in a beam of shame, perhaps. Superman looks at Bruce with palpable confusion.

bruce then takes a deep breath and looks at clark

"can you tell I have lip fillers…?"

and clark goes pale.

"no…" "just a little bit…?"

Bruce snorts in displeasure. the kids will never let him forget it if they ever find out. They can't find out...

But they probably will because Damian has a strange friendship with Captain Marvel's Tiger, of course.

[prettyfastcars]

All you need | Dark!Mob!Lewis

Summary: Lewis’ protectiveness can get out of hand sometimes… 

Themes: mob!lewis, possessive!lewis, dark!lewis, smut, explicit language, mentions of death and violence, p with v little plot

“Do you not like my gift, baby?” 

When Lewis left early this morning, he didn’t even tell you where he was going. Meetings, you figured, judging by the way he dressed in an all black suit. The kind that looked like it was made only for him. The kind that made him look majestic. And before he left, he gave you a kiss as usual and said that he’d bring you something later. 

You kept asking what, but he refused to elaborate. And here he was now, holding up the ‘gift’ so you could see. It was a necklace. A familiar one. One your friend from your running club always wore. 

“Lewis…” You blinked a few times. “You didn’t need to do that. He’s just my friend.” 

“Was.” He corrected you. Lewis shrugged, taking off layers of his clothes until he was left in his white shirt. He folded his sleeves up, exposing his tattooed forearms as he so casually said, “And yes, I know. He kept repeating the same thing while he was begging for his life.” 

“Lewis, I–,” 

He cut you off, walking up to you slowly. You took just one step back and found yourself pressed against the nearest wall. Lewis smirked. “Oh, don’t tell me you cared about him? Besides, he shouldn’t have touched what’s mine.” 

“But he’s–,” 

“Gone, now.” He cut you off again. 

Maybe it was instincts, but something told you that you should get away from him for now. But as you tried to move, he grabbed you. His reflexes were insane. 

“There now, babygirl.” He leaned closer to you, kissing your face like nothing happened, “Where do you think you’re going, hmm?” 

You gasped when he pressed his warm, muscular body against yours. “You… you’re insane sometimes.” You spoke in a shaky voice, trying so damn hard not to focus on how his warm hands touched you everywhere through your clothes. 

Lewis chuckled. “Insane? And who do you think made me like this?” His hand, given your short nightdress, slid so easily in between your legs. The metal from his rings cool against your inner thighs. “Don’t act like you don’t like me crazy. Look at how wet that got you.” 

You wanted to hide your face in embarrassment, but he wouldn’t let you. With one of his hands around your throat, making sure you kept your eyes on his, his other hand slid down your underwear, shamelessly touching you, smearing your wetness around before pulling his fingers away and shoving them into your open mouth. 

“You taste that?” He asked, cocky as always, “That’s all for me. You like me like this. You like being reminded I’m crazy for you. Don’t you, baby?” A deranged chuckle, then, “I mean, just look at how you’re dripping for me. Now I gotta take care of that, don’t I?” He whispered. 

Then his mouth was on yours. Kissing, biting, tugging on your lower lip. There was nothing gentle about him or the kiss. His stubble scratched your skin. He was heady. Then his mouth found its way down your neck, until he wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and sucked until you cried out. 

You couldn’t help but gasp and moan as his warm mouth wrapped around your flesh, wetting the fabric of your thin nightdress. Then he shifted to the other one, making you whine and squirm against him.

And then he was kneeling, eagerly bunching up your nightdress so he could taste what he wanted the most, that wetness in between your legs. 

You groaned, “Lewis…” You tried to protest again, but doing absolutely nothing to stop him.

Instead, you let him. You let him taste you until he had his fill. You let him take one of your legs and put it over his broad shoulder which opened you up even more to his warm, eager mouth. To his tongue which slid in and out and up and down until you were almost crying in pleasure. 

He ate you out until you were trembling, until your arousal was dripping down his chin. And only after making you come more than once did he pull away. He looked up at you with a satisfied, lust-drunk look on his handsome face. His lips and chin were all wet and shiny even in the dimmed room. He looked proud of himself. He always did whenever he made you come. 

“You always taste even better whenever you’re pretending to be angry at me, baby.” 

You were gasping for air, but Lewis was already unbuckling his trousers. And you’d be lying if you said the sight of his tattooed hands pulling his hard cock out wasn’t driving you insane with lust. 

You made a weak attempt at getting away again. But he grabbed you again. 

“Don’t be difficult.” He chided. 

“I don’t wanna look at you right now.” You argued. 

He laughed in that smug way of his and said, “Aww poor baby, you think you can get away from me? Hmm? You think someone’s coming to save you?” He smirked. “No one’s coming, baby. I’m all you’ve got. All you need. Look at me,” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at his face. “Say it, tell me I’m all you need.” 

He had that look in his eyes. That determined, ambitious look. 

“You… you’re all I need.” You repeated. 

“Good girl.” 

Soon, he had you pressed up against the cold wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you and muffled your moans while he pushed inside of you. You were moaning against his mouth as he filled you up, making you squirm and whine in his arms. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” He murmured, fucking you slowly, savouring the moment while whispering his promises against your lips, “I’ve got you. You’re all mine, you hear me? Mine alone.” He spread your legs further apart, holding you up against the wall by the curve of your ass, and pushed deeper inside you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel that? Feel how good it is? You were made for me, babygirl. No one, just me.” 

Your mind was a foggy mess at that point so you could barely focus on anything other than how he moved in and out of your wet, tight hole. His words, his warm mouth, his scent, the feeling of his body moving in between your legs. 

“Lewis…” You whined, breathing heavily as you rested your forehead against his shoulder and holding onto him for dear life as he fucked you faster and deeper. “Slow down,” You whispered, gasping for air. 

He let out a chuckle. “Oh? Is that how it is now?,” He slowed down a little, “You’ll tell me how to fuck you? You’ll give the orders now?” He kissed the side of your face, “Think I’ll make an exception then.” He slowed down even more and asked, “Is this okay? Hmm? Or is my babygirl too sore for my cock, huh? You want me to stop?” 

“No!” You whined. 

He laughed with pure male arrogance. “Yeah that’s what I fucking thought,” He sped up again. “Come for me,” he said, grunting and moaning, feeling your walls clenching around him and gripping his cock. “Be a good girl and come.” 

“Fuck…” You came around him with a quiet cry. 

He leaned in to kiss you roughly as he came right after you. 

For a moment or two, neither of you spoke. You just held onto each other and caught your breaths. 

Then he said, “Any other friends of yours I need to know about?”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

"Yeah, I'm just a little nervous about you being behind the wheel, Eddie," Robin said.

"Oh, I'm not going to drive her. I'm just starting this baby up," Eddie grinned. "Harrington's got her, don't ya, big boy?"

Eddie was already so close to him, his lips near his cheek. Steve frowned. God. Was Eddie flirting with him? This didn't seem very fair. Eddie gets accused of murder, gets thrown into all of this, and now Steve has to reject him because he didn't like boys. Although, he appreciated the attention and the way he had slammed him up against the wall. . .It also wasn't hard to notice the way Eddie looked at him when he took his shirt off. Poor guy. Steve turned his head and was about to open his mouth when Robin moved. She tripped, falling onto Steve’s back. In the process, it caused Steve to fall into Eddie, their lips bumping against each other's.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" Robin gasped.

"I guess I can cross that off my bucket list," Eddie said with a grin and winked at Steve.

Before anyone could say anything else, the owners of the RV tried to get in. Steve did it without thinking. They needed to switch spots and quickly, too. Steve patted him on his backside to get him out and rushed to replace him. He took off. The entire way to the War Zone, all Steve could think about was kissing Eddie. . .his hand brushing up against his backside just then. . .the hand pressed against the small of his back when they were walking in the Upside Down. . .the way he liked it when Eddie leaned in. He still tried to process it all when they got to the War Zone and even after in the clearing when he was making molotov cocktails with Robin.

"Hey. . .Robin, do you think maybe you can push me into Eddie again later?" Steve asked.

"What? Why?" Robin asked in disbelief.

"I need to test a theory," Steve said, his chest growing warm at the sight of Eddie with Dustin.

"What's the theory?" She asked.

"I like a boy," Steve said as he continued to gaze at Eddie.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed as she nearly dropped the molotov. "You like Eddie!"

Robin slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Steve grinned. He couldn't help it. . .her expression was so comical. He couldn't be mad at her. Judging by the way everyone's head had snapped in their direction, they heard Robin.

"I told you! I knew you would like him!" Dustin shrieked. "Didn't I say that Steve would like him, Lucas?"

"Yeah, man," Lucas said in amusement. "You called it."

Steve smiled and shook his head. Once again, Dustin was missing an important part of what had just happened.

"I just don't know why Robin was so surprised," Dustin said.

"I like you, too, big boy!" Eddie yelled, winking at him again, and Steve blushed.

Robin leaned closer to Steve, smirking as she lowered her voice.

"Theory proven. Steve Harrington likes a boy," Robin said.

"It seems like the worst possible time to realize this," Steve said.

"If not now, then when?" She asked, and then she squealed as she leaned against him. "Neither one of us is straight! This is great! Ooh, I rhymed."

"Settle down, Buckley," Steve said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You should do something about it," Robin whispered.

"I don't know," Steve said, glancing at Nancy. "There's still something there, too."

"We live on a gate to hell, Steve," Robin said. "I think it's okay to like both of them. Anything is possible."

"I think I'm going inside for a bit," Steve said.

"Okay, well, I'm here if you want to talk some more or freak out about it," Robin said.

Steve smiled at her, grateful to her before heading into the RV. He closed the door and sighed. It was all such a great distraction, but it was only momentarily. The pain was very much there. Steve shrugged out of his new jacket and camouflage shirt. He didn't have any time to change his bandages at the War Zone. He had to figure out how to change the bandages, but how could he possibly get the ones on his back and arms? Steve grabbed the first aid kid and started peeling Nancy's piece of torn shirt off of his stomach. Steve cried out in pain and wept harder at the wounds in his stomach. His flesh had been torn away and devoured. . .He could feel the road rash on his back and arms. It felt as though he had been kissed by fire. He tried to keep it all together, tried not to let anyone know how much pain he was in. . .the mission was too important. Steve collapsed on the floor and fell onto his knees. He tried to focus on what he was feeling emotionally. . .Eddie or Nancy? The door to the RV opened, and he jerked at the sound of their voices. . .Jesus, did they hear what he was thinking?

"Steve!" Eddie and Nancy yelled.

The door closed behind them as they rushed to his side.

"I was just trying to change my bandages," Steve groaned.

They quickly helped sit him up, and Nancy immediately started unraveling the bandages.

"Shit, these need to be cleaned," Eddie cursed.

"Oh, Steve, why didn't you tell us you were in this much pain?" Nancy asked.

"I didn't want to be a distraction," Steve said.

"You had no problem being a distraction when you ripped off your sweater, flashing Nancy and I your tits," Eddie grinned, and Nancy giggled.

"You know what I mean, asshole," Steve laughed. "I just - ,"

"You're not a burden. We know about this. You're important, and not just to the mission," Nancy said softly. "To all of us."

Steve smiled at her. Nancy and Eddie went to work cleaning his wounds.

"I'm just wondering how you expected to get the ones on your back? You would have had to twist yourself like a pretzel," Eddie said. "Mm, pretzels."

"Hey, I've got moves," Steve protested.

"He's a ninja," Nancy teased.

"Sounds like an inside joke," Eddie said.

"The first time he snuck into my room, he landed awkwardly, got up, and proudly declared himself a ninja," Nancy said.

"Sounds adorable," Eddie grinned, flashing his dimples as he looked softly at Steve.

"It really was," Nancy said fondly.

"So, letting me in on this, and letting me feel you up - ," Eddie said.

"You're bandaging my wounds," Steve said.

"Do I or do I not have my hands all over you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, then I guess that means Nancy's feeling me up," Steve said.

"I'm not going to lie, Steve," Nancy said seriously, and Eddie laughed.

"I guess that means we're friends now," Eddie said.

"No," Steve said quickly, and Eddie frowned. "I mean, yes. . .I like you, Eddie."

"I like you, too. What's the problem?" He asked.

"No, I like you," Steve said.

"Okay. . .you said like differently that time. What are you trying to imply here?" Eddie asked.

"I like-like you, Eddie," he said.

"Okay, so you really like me," he said. "So, why can't we be friends?"

"I'm romantically and sexually attracted to you," Steve replied with a loud sigh.

"What! But Nancy - ," Eddie said with wide eyes. "I thought - ,"

"Oh, no, I'm still very much in love with her," Steve said. "So, yeah, all very confusing. . .although, I guess not, really. I definitely have a type. . .nerds with big hair and big eyes that make you fall for them."

Nancy laughed.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I definitely think you were crushing on Tom Cruise just as much as I was," Nancy said.

"Shit, I think you're right. I've never been straight," Steve said, laughing.

"What? Did you think I turned you queer?" Eddie asked.

"Like magic," Steve said with a goofy grin.

Eddie and Nancy laughed as they finished wrapping up Steve. They helped him up off the floor before helping him back into his shirt and jacket.

"You're good to go, bug boy," Eddie said, his hand caressing Steve’s collar. "I mean, big boy - fuck, I meant, well, you know what I meant."

"I just want you to know that you don't have to do anything about this or feel like you have to. . .I just thought I should be honest. I was just completely honest with myself, and I wanted to do the same with you guys," Steve said. "You both have inspired me to be myself and realize what's important. Eddie, more recently, and Nancy, well, back then, she gave me the bump on the head that I needed to see what it truly means to be a friend. I mean, I know that I'm slow, but I learn. . .according to my mother, I used to crawl backwards, I went so far backward that I ended up falling down the stairs. Eventually, I do move forward. So, I'll be okay."

Eddie smiled sweetly at him, playing with the collar of Steve’s jacket. Nancy placed a hand on Steve’s arm, also smiling at him.

"So, in that dream of yours. . .," Nancy said.

"With his six little chicken nuggets," Eddie said in amusement.

"Were you serious about that?" Nancy asked.

"I meant every word," Steve said to Nancy. "Left out an important part, though. . .the most important part. . .you were there. . .you've always been there."

Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, leaning in close to him.

"I know that we've just started getting to know each other. . .," Eddie trailed off.

"There's room in the RV. . .hm, I could use some convincing, though," Steve smirked.

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him. Steve smiled against his lips as he returned the kiss, placing his hand against the small of Eddie's back. Eddie ran his tongue over the bottom of Steve’s lip, and Steve opened his mouth with a gasp, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. Suddenly, Eddie pulled back.

"That's what you meant by convincing you. . .right?" Eddie asked and Steve laughed.

"Yeah, Eddie, that's what I meant," Steve said.

"I think I'm definitely going to need some convincing," Nancy said, her cheeks red.

"You are?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Steve wanted me in the RV first," Nancy smirked.

"Trying to make this into a competition, Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

"What if I am, Munson?" Nancy asked as she stared directly into his eyes.

Eddie grinned and pulled her flush against him. They each kept a hand on Steve while they held onto each other. Eddie pressed his lips to Nancy's, smirking into the kiss. Steve felt the warmth inside his stomach grow stronger at the sight of them. He should have been jealous, but there was no jealousy here, only longing for the both of them. Their hands clutched each of his shoulders tightly as Nancy deepened the kiss. Nancy and Eddie's hands slid into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve moaned softly as he felt them gently tug at it. Eddie pulled away with a gasp.

"Is that enough to convince you, or do you need more?" Eddie asked.

"I think we've both been convinced," Nancy laughed as she looked at Steve's face. "Haven't we?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve said.

Nancy touched Steve’s face gently and kissed him. It was sweet and soft until Nancy pressed her lips further against his, eager to taste him again. God, how he missed her lips and the way she gently touched his face. He wanted to keep kissing her, but his head was starting to spin. He broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked.

"I feel a little dizzy," Steve said. "I think I need to sit down."

Nancy and Eddie guided him to the couch. Steve couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, so Eddie quickly found a can of Spaghetti-os and a bottle of water. It wasn't the best, but it made Steve feel better. Yeah, it wasn't a good idea to forget to eat after losing all that blood, Steve thought as he scooped food into his mouth.

"You feeling better?" Nancy asked after he finished and set the empty can aside.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"I should have gotten you some food. . .I didn't think about the blood loss," Nancy frowned.

"Hey, I didn't think about it either," Steve said. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Honestly, I thought you were getting dizzy because of us, and I felt cocky for a moment," Eddie smirked.

"Hm, well, maybe a little," Steve grinned.

Nancy ran her fingers through Steve’s hair, looking at him fondly.

"I almost lost you," Nancy said.

"Eddie said that you didn't hesitate at all to jump in after me," Steve said. "Said it was. . .an unambiguous sign of true love."

"Well, he was right about that," Nancy said with a smile as she continued to stroke his hair. "I couldn't lose you. I spent a lot of time letting other people get in my head. . .as much as I try to tell myself that I don't care what others think, I do. I spent a lot of time letting those voices convince me that I was going to end up in a nuclear loveless family. I was so afraid of that happening. . .that I let it happen. Our relationship was wonderful, and I loved every minute of it. . .the one thing that got in my way was myself and the fact that those assholes got away with killing Barb. When you got yanked underneath the water, when the bats came after, I just couldn't you go. . .I realized that it was always you, Steve. So, yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too," Steve said.

Nancy leaned forward and kissed him, tucking a hair behind his ear. She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against Steve’s.

"I am not quite there yet," Eddie said, grinning. "But I feel a great deal of affection for the both of you."

"There's no pressure, Eddie," Steve laughed.

"You know, I kind of like that you both are further along in this relationship than I am. It's almost like you two are the dungeon masters and I'm the player. . .," Eddie frowned. "I think I just turned myself on."

"I wouldn't even know how to be a dungeon master," Steve said.

"I'll show you," Nancy grinned. "It's not that different from leading a basketball team."

"You take that back, Wheeler," Eddie gasped.

"No!" Nancy laughed.

Eddie leaned back and crossed his arms, fake pouting. Steve and Nancy stared at him, watching the sun begin to sink down. . .a reminder for all of them that their mission to take down Vecna would soon begin. Eddie's face turned serious.

"You might be onto something. . .I kind of wish that I had gone to the game. Wish I had been more accommodating to Lucas, let him know that he wasn't turning to the dark side. . .it was a shitty thing to do. I think I was so afraid of forced conformity that I ended up feeling like Lucas had to choose one or the other when he didn't have to. As the leader of Hellfire, I was responsible for giving those kids a safe place for them to share their interests even if they didn't align with mine," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I think we were both afraid of forced conformity," Nancy said as she twirled a lock of Steve’s hair between her fingers.

"Hey, man, Lucas knows you didn't intend to be an asshole about it," Steve said. "He knows how protective you are of the game. As much as I tried to talk about it with him, Lucas just wanted the bullying to stop, and he still wanted to hang on to the game. You just don't know how much harder it is for him."

"Yeah," Eddie winced. "Jeff pointed that out as a possibility when I was complaining about it."

"He sees what kind of person Jason is now, though," Steve said. "And he also knows that he was wrong, too. . .which I think is something that you two really need to talk about."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed.

Steve could feel Nancy's eyes on both of them.

"Boys," she sighed happily.

"Aren't you glad Robin pushed me into Eddie's lips?" Steve asked.

"What?" She laughed.

"You didn't see that earlier? Eddie was getting the RV started up, and Robin tripped, causing my lips to meet with Eddie's," Steve said.

"Is that what made you realize you liked me?" Eddie asked, laughing.

"Yeah, I totally wanted to kiss you again," Steve said. "What made you realize that you liked me?"

"When you ripped off your shirt like a fucking stripper," Eddie said rolling his eyes. "You know you look good, asshole. It was the wrong fucking time to have a sexuality crisis and you gave it to me. Between you and Nancy. . .watching her swing that oar around like a sword. . .yeah, I definitely still liked women. So, thank you, you guys gave me a lot to panic about."

"You're welcome," Nancy and Steve said in amusement.

"The moment I realized I liked both of you, actually isn't that much different," Nancy said in amusement. "I both caught you with romance novels. . .of course, it was a long time ago with Steve and earlier this year with Eddie."

"Really?!" They asked, and they looked at each other. "You?!"

"I don't know why you're so surprised," Steve scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. "You heard about my dream. . .of course, I'm a romantic. I don't know why I'm surprised about you. . .cynical, my ass, of course you're a romantic. . .unambiguous sign of true love."

"I am never going to live that down," Eddie groaned and threw up his hands. "Okay! Jesus H Christ, I love love!"

"I think it's sweet," Nancy smiled. "Now, more than ever, we need to believe in love. Whether it's familial, romantic, or strictly platonic."

"Like me and Robin," Steve said with a goofy grin. "Platonic with a - "

" - capital p!" Nancy and Eddie exclaimed.

"Yes, we know," Nancy said. "It's strictly platonic with me and Robin, too. I definitely love her."

"Oh me, too!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, she's great," Steve grinned and then frowned. "But there's no one like me and Robin. . .I found her first."

"Of course," Nancy giggled.

Steve leaned back against the couch, smiling at the both of them. Eddie and Nancy were talking over him now, their hands over his knees. They were discussing the things to come, Vecna, and what had already happened. Steve listened to them both as Eddie talked about his guilt over Chrissy's death, his feelings, while Nancy did the same about her own guilt over Barb's death and how she had felt about Barb. Steve placed a hand over Nancy's and Eddie's back. They leaned into his touch, letting him know that they appreciated his silent reassurance. Whatever happened, they were going to get through it together.