#i'm way too out of touch to know what to put in tags anymore but here goes

[not-brionnnne]

hey has anyone ever considered doing shinjiro smut for after the fade to black but he lays you across his lap, like has anyone ever considered the canon praise kink with him more—shinjiro who scolds you, calls you trouble and tells you to stay close to him like a "good girl", shinjiro who acts tough, pretends to be fed up with you pushing him around (he loves it, but that doesn't mean you're not gonna hear about it), ignoring what he wants, so two can play that game, and you think, god, he's not holding back anymore, he's going to kiss me, finally, we're going to— but no, he settles on his bed and pats his lap and tells you that you need to "take responsibility" for teasing him like that, messing with his feelings — "be a good girl." remember, you started this.

[urainia]

people who're still here, hi (and why??)! it's been a long, long time. i hope life has been good to you.

i started this blog at seventeen and now i'm twenty-seven. it's been a whole damn decade. can you believe this? i've since moved across the continent and back again, had sex for the first time and then many more (yes, i was a virgin then), and done many other things i never thought i'd do, like trying and failing to smoke weed. or doing a phd on what we talk about when we talk about insanity. i have been very sad and very happy. most of the time i'm both. i still read a lot of sylvia plath and make inappropriate jokes (which are not really jokes, according to my approved mental health professional) about dying, but things seem a lot more serious now than they did when i was a teenager, and i try to take them as seriously as i should.

writing is one of these things. to quote plath: I wonder about all the roads not taken and am moved to quote Frost...but won't. It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me.' yes, i am aware of the irony.

all this to say that i now write, and you can find me on substack (it's as free as this blog has ever been). i realise i never really wrote on here, but somehow the blog—a curation (lol) of indie, artsy, cringe sad-girl music and poetry and photography—still seems to have preserved a big, big part of me. and it'll remain that way. i'm just starting again somewhere else.

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[kaissatou]

you can be alice (i'll be the mad hatter) (18+)

whenever i wanna write an actual fic it ends up as head-cannons instead bc i cant think of any plot ughh :3 i'll make an actual fic of yandere!gojo if anything can think of a plot pretty pls- so this is just how i think yandere satoru would act lolol tw: smut, manipulative behaviour, stalking?, abuse of power

Yandere!Gojo's obsession with you runs deep.

He wants- no, he needs you to rely on him. He's the strongest, after all. Satoru is easy to rile up, and he's also extremely possessive. The idea of you relying on somebody whose not him has him working himself up, becoming irrationally jealous. Satoru will go to extreme lengths if it means keeping you by his side, forever.

Around others, it's hard to see a difference in Satoru's persona. He's still just as charming, as ever (as he likes to call himself), but really, its just a carefully crafted act. He only wants to keep you close, to keep you sane. He doesn't change, the same as ever. No one bats an eye- because no one knows his crazed thoughts about you. His obsession starts subtle; no one realises, because its same old Gojo. Lingering touches on your shoulder, chapped kisses on your forehead. He'll shower you with affection, overly expensive gifts and the full attention of Satoru Gojo himself, but its all a ploy to make you feel dependent on him, as if you could never live without him. Who would be there to pay your bills, or take you to restuarants you could never dream of affording?

Satoru's sly, and he's also manipulative- though he has an articulate way of going about it. He's overly casual, like he really doesn't know what he's doing or saying. But he's pulling the strings. His controlling ways are subtle at first. He'll interfere with your plans with Shoko, pulling you along to the movies with him instead, referring to himself as your saviour. Because to him, he really believes that he is. It carries along like this, until it's not so subtle anymore. And in no time, you find yourself distanced from your friends, but not from Satoru. No, he's always there with you- because why would you need other friends, when you have him?

And really, it would be no use for you to try and do anything that's not under his watchful eye, anyway. If you did go out without him, something would conveniently come up- a special grade curse? No fear, Gojo's just around the corner. Gojo's popular, and he can control crowds with a bat of his eye, a flick of his hand. Anyone who acts just a bit too friendly towards you, Satoru will...handle. Rumours spread fast; you know that, right?

You've caught Gojo watching you around the school countless times now- to which you confront him, and it's always the same response: "I'm just watching out for you!" And at first, you (dumbly) believe it. Satoru will track your every move, but really, he just wants to look out for you! There's no harm in that, right?

If you're out, whether it's doing something mundane like grocery shopping or out for coffee with Suguru and Shoko, Satoru will be there. Sometimes, it's a coincidence (or so you think), or sometimes, he just tags along like a lost puppy. As time passes, his coincidental appearances become more frequent. You quickly realise it may not be a coincidence anymore (or if it ever was).

Satoru Gojo has mastered the perfect façade. He's able to meticulously craft and manipulate situations to favour him, to allow him to see you (more often than what's considered healthy for friends). He'll persuade (threaten) Yaga to be put on missions with you, and somehow, after having a not so friendly chat with your landlord, he's got a key to your apartment- a key that you don't know about. Gojo will use his power to his advantage, and he feels no remorse about it. Anything's worth it to get to you.

Satoru is clingy. His love for you is overwhelming, suffocating at times. He constantly wants you to feel dependent on him, and he'll do anything to get you that way. pliant and submissive. You don't need to go on grocery runs anymore because Satoru's already got your shopping from the most high-end market for you! Don't question how he got into your home, though. He'll constantly remind you that everything he does is for your benefit. At first, the idea of being doted on by him is comforting, his affection providing a safe sense of security, but in time, it becomes clear that his love is extremely unhealthy. It's hard to get a movement to breathe with him around. Again, he's manipulative. There's no way to escape his presence.

When he confesses, it'll either go one of two ways- you'll accept, intimidated by him and clever enough to know what strings he'll pull if you decline his romances. Or you'll say no, and disappoint Satoru, because he really thought you knew better than this! However, he seems to take it fine. It's chilling, the way his lips flatten out into a thin line, and the way he nods his head, almost emotionless, and you get to believe that its finally over. But, you didn't know Gojo as well as you thought.

Satoru would never dream of hurting you, not in a million years- but really, it was your fault that it all came down to this. Satoru knew deep down that you had to love him back, and this was his way of giving you that final push! Everything was normal at first, until subtly, everyone started steering clear of you, even Suguru and Shoko! And was it a mistake that all the curses you had to fight were stronger than you had been told by Ijichi, leaving you blindsided? Satoru always came to save the day, giving you a sly grin. You knew what he was doing, and there was only one way to fix it.

Gojo accepts with with open arms, acting like nothing ever happened. He'll comfort you with soft words, murmuring that you just needed that little last push, that all you need from now on is him.

And when he finally gets to fuck you, its feral. He's frenzied and crazed, nipping and sucking and whatever skin he can get, sucking dark pretty purple hickeys all over your neck, leaving a trail of warm spit in their wake. His mouth will trail lower, savouring the taste of your salty skin against his tongue. When he tastes your pussy for the first time, he actually moans. He purrs like your pussy is his lifeline. How can someone be so gentle yet so rough at the same time?

Satoru can. He's ravenous, yet you don't know that he's only lubing you up to take his fat cock. He'll split you open, watching you wriggle and writhe in his strong grip, your pleasure (and pain) doing the most to spur him on. It's, really. It's dirty, and he loves it. His nimble fingers will pinch and flick at your clit meanly, teasingly but its just so good.

He'll fuck you through your orgasm, but he wont stop- not until he's had his full. There's no end in sight, not when he's pining over you for months, years! You'd be stupid to think that he'd pull out before the sun rise; infact, Satoru would stay situated inside your gooey, wet warm walls forever if he could. But duty calls, so he'll relish in the time he has for the time being.

After all, you have so much lost time to make up.

You'll just have to make it up to him forever. Its okay, he's a patient man when it comes to you.

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - five (j.yh)

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. four | five | six | series masterlist 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: part five got away from me, so there will now be a part six which will end wrap up this story. this chapter is deeply emotional and full of moments that i truly hope everyone loves, though it's a bit of a plot direction i'm not sure anyone expected. additional notes at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers. thank you all for your love and support on this fic, it means the world.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, anxiety/nerves, lots of angst, lots of tears, mentions of functional vs. dysfunctional families, alcohol consumption (not heavy), needy/rough sex, sex with no prep, clothed sex, oral sex f!receiving, mention of handjobs, romantic af sex, lots and lots and lots of praise/ possessive petnames (i.e. 'my love', 'my baby'), overuse of jagiya, basically they're soooo fucking happy to be back together

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 15.7k

It’s been too long since you’ve had a cup of Em’s herbal tea, that you’re sure of when you take the first long sip, cozied in the corner of their sofa and looking out the window at the little greenhouse patio room where Em tends to all her plants. It’s been five days since you left Seoul, and all you’ve heard from anyone is a single text message from Iseul that made your stomach roll. 

I’m sorry - I’ll call you as soon as I can. 

You had left your best friend a voicemail while Hana drove out of the city, short but to the point. You can remember the words perfectly - The company knows, things are bad and I’m going to Hana’s for a little while. Please tell him where I am, tell him I’m waiting. 

The single text and the silence after that has left you feeling untethered for days. 

The bond with Yunho has stayed mostly quiet. You can still feel him, his presence inside you will never fade, but he feels flat, shut down. It reminds you of that day in the airport, the way you seemed to lose connection with him when he steeled himself for the experience of being mobbed by fans. You wonder how much effort it takes him to mute his own emotions like this, you wonder if he can still feel you and the way you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night since you were fired. 

A breeze passes through the open window in the greenhouse, leaves swaying and shuddering with the air, and you hear the sound of the watering can, of Em’s house slippers on the slate flooring. 

For a brief moment, you picture a little house like this in the countryside. 

Yunho somewhere in the kitchen, your flowers in the garden, and little hands beside yours in the dirt. 

Your chest throbs, and you push yourself up to your feet before the quiet of the house lets you daydream anymore about a future that feels so much farther away than it did five days ago. 

Em turns as you step down into the greenhouse, and you tap the side of your cup, “I think this blend is the best you’ve done,” 

Em smiles, her kind face always putting you right at ease, “Yeah?” 

You nod, taking another sip, “What’s in this one?” 

“A mix,” She replies, “holy basil, lemongrass, dandelion root and nettle,” 

You wouldn’t know the difference between one herb and another, but Em does and she recites the ingredients in a way that calms you and takes your mind right back to the present and away from wandering, painful thoughts of the future. 

“Oh,” She nods, gesturing towards a large pot, “and gingko leaf,” 

“Mm,” You nod. 

Em finds a pair of shears and holds them out handle-side towards you. 

“Putting me to work?” You smile, setting your cup of tea to the side. 

“Hana’s cooking soon,” She nods and gestures towards a large box of pepper plants, “we need five or six of those,” 

“Sure,” 

It’s quiet for a moment as you assess the ripeness of the shishitos and while Hana refills her watercan from a hose in the corner, but when you start to clip a few off their leafy green plant, a voice catches you from the doorway. 

 “Should we take a trip?” Hana’s brightness fills the space, your sister always one to throw an idea at the wall and see if it will stick.

“A trip?” You blink. 

“Jeju, maybe?” She offers, looking between you and Em. 

“I’m unemployed, Hana,” You know she’s just trying to make you feel better, but your heart sinks and you scrub a hand over your tired face, “I should probably get a job.” 

“It hasn’t even been a week,” She says, “what you need is a break.” 

“Han,” You sigh, “I told you, Iseul knows where I am, which means he knows where I am. I can’t just leave.” 

Em is quiet behind you, but you hear her set down the watering can and exhale softly. 

“Iseul, the girl who ratted you out?” Hana says, her voice a little sharper than it was the last time she asked this question.

“I told you already,” You shake your head, “they lied about that.” 

Your sister’s jaw tightens and relaxes, like she’s trying to keep herself from saying something. It’s been days of this. When you got to the house you poured the whole story out in a wash of tears, and ever since Hana has been upset at the wrong things and the wrong people. Em has been your calm constant, always a listener first, careful not to assume. 

“I just think he should have found a way to call you,” Hana says, sinking into the doorframe and her eyes softening to something you can only describe as pity, “and I still don’t think you can trust Iseul, but after five days how hard is it to pick up a phone?” 

“Han,” You chest aches, “Hana, I really can’t hear this,” 

“I think you might need to hear it,” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest, “I think you’re just sitting here in pain while he could do something about it,” 

“Baby,” Em finally speaks up, shaking her head in your peripheral vision at her wife. 

“I know, I know,” Hana says, “I’m just worried about you, I’ve never seen you like this and I know he has a very important job or whatever, but you’re,” 

Your heart lurches, “Hana, I love you, but you do not know what this industry is like.” 

“I just,” 

“When they want to,” You continue, “they control every facet of your life. Yunho’s in trouble because of us, I’m not angry with him, I’m worried about him. If he hasn’t called me, I promise you he has a reason and I’m not going farther away from him while this is happening,” 

She lets out a dejected breath of air, “Fine,” 

“Iseul will call,” You add, “I don’t blame anybody but the company,” 

“And if,” Hana starts to say. 

“Let’s not,” Em interrupts smoothly, “y/n, how are those peppers coming?” 

You blink, the sheers and the peppers in your hands forgotten with the sudden presence of your sister, “Uh,” you clear your throat, “good,” 

“Great,” Em smiles widely and lightens the mood, “Han, baby, I’m getting hungry. Can we start the meat?” 

Hana’s lips close into a little line and then she exhales slowly through her nose before nodding, “Yeah, I’ll get it going,” 

“Great, we’ll be in soon,” Em says with gentle authority. 

Hana nods, disappearing around the corner and you let out a heavy sigh, letting your eyes go unfocused again on the plant in front of you. 

After a moment, Em rests a gentle hand on your back, “You know I love your sister, but when she makes up her mind about something,” 

You nod as Em trails off, “She’s wrong about this though,” 

Em hums in understanding and takes the shears out of your hands to finish clipping the remaining peppers off their vine. 

“Something isn’t right,” You explain quietly, “I can feel him, but it’s so distant, he wouldn’t be pushing me away if there wasn’t a good reason,” 

“I believe you,” Em replies. 

“I want Hana to understand,” You confess, “I don’t want her to hate him,” 

Em leans in, wrapping her arms around you in a hug and you let her, biting the inside of your lip to keep your emotions in check for what feels like the hundredth time today, “She won’t,” Em says softly, “but she loves you and needs to make sure her big sister is okay, okay?” 

You nod. 

“I’ll talk to her,” She says as she steps back out of the hug, “but for now, let’s go make dinner. Let’s open a bottle of wine and just forget about it for tonight. If you say Iseul will call, she’ll call. If you say he’s going to come for you, he will, but waiting for it is making you sick. Let’s let it go for a little while,” 

Thick emotion sits lodged in your throat, but you manage a nod, “Okay,” 

“Okay,” She smiles, cupping your cheek for a moment and wiping away a single stray tear, “come on,” 

You follow her into the kitchen, where Hana has already started laying out cutting boards and pulling ingredients out of the fridge, but when you cross into the room she drops the bundle of green onions onto the counter and walks over to you, throwing her arms around you. 

“Oh,” You hug her back, your eyes connecting with Em across the room who gives you a soft shrug and a knowing smile. 

“I’m sorry,” Hana squeezes you, “I didn’t mean to make you upset again,” 

“It’s alright,” You murmur, “I just want you to trust me,” 

“I trust you,” She sighs, “I do,” 

You expect a ‘but’, a follow up, something about how no matter how much she trusts you she doesn’t trust the people who made you feel this way, but if Hana thinks it, this time she holds her tongue. 

At the sharp sound of a cork pulling free from a wine bottle, you both separate and turn towards Em who holds up a sizable bottle of red. 

“Come on,” She says finding some glasses, “let’s get drunk,” 

The tension in the room diffuses, and for the first time in days the knot between your shoulders loosens. 

Em pours the wine, Hana sparks the flame on the gas stove, and you slide into place at the cutting board to start prepping vegetables. Within fifteen minutes, the warmth of the wine works its way into your system, Em has thrown a vinyl on the turntable and turned up the volume, and Hana is in her element with the stirfry. 

You don’t see Iseul’s first call or her second, the music in the kitchen is too loud and you’re in the middle of your first real and good laugh since the firing, your phone forgotten on the island entirely. It isn’t until you’re walking past to get a look at the recipe on Hana’s phone that you see yours light up again with Iseul’s name and you hastily wipe your hands on your apron and reach for it. 

You almost drop it as you fish it off the table, and Hana and Em go quiet as they watch you fumble to answer. There’s a single second of doubt, a moment of fear in your stomach about what she’s going to say, but you push it aside and pick up, “Hello?” 

“y/n?” Iseul sounds relieved. 

“Hey,” it’s all you can manage, and despite Hana’s nervous expression, you walk straight out of the kitchen to a quieter part of the house to finally, finally find out what’s been going on at home in Seoul. 

“I know what they told you,” Iseul starts, her voice a little emotional, “but I swear to god, I didn’t tell anyone about you and Yunho.” 

“I know,” You breathe, but you’re still relieved to hear her say it and the words come out in a sigh.

“It was Eunji,” 

That gets your attention. 

At the far side of the house you lean against the stairs until you’re sinking down onto them, disbelief in your voice, “Eunji?” 

You weren’t as close with her as you were with Iseul, but you were still on the same team. You considered her your friend, you would have never done something like this to her. 

“She saw you and Yunho together,” She explains, “she overheard us talking too, I didn’t know she had, she just… she put some things together, jumped to conclusions,” 

“And she just reported us? Just like that?” 

“It’s, yeah,” Iseul takes a breath. 

“I don’t even know what she saw, what she thinks she knows,” Your gut clenches in disbelief, in anger. 

“I think half of it was guessing, half of it lies. Saving her own skin,” Iseul says. 

“Her own skin?” 

“She’s been on a probationary action plan, apparently,” Iseul informs you, “she posted something on social media a few months ago that accidentally disclosed the members’ location, she got reprimanded and warned.” 

“Fuck,” You blink, “I had no idea,”

“No one did,” She continues, “she sold you out to make herself look better,” 

“Iseul,” You breathe, dropping your head into your hands, “what about Yunho?” 

She’s quiet for a moment, but then she says, “It’s been bad here.” 

Alarm shoots through you, “Is he alright?” 

“They took his phone,” She explains, “they’re watching him and the other members like hawks, it’s like they’re rookies again.” 

You swallow tightly. 

“The staff was told you were let go for budget,” She goes on, “which kind of backfired on them. Everyone’s speculating who’s next. With how weird it’s been… I just didn’t know what happened in the meeting, I didn’t want to reach out and make something worse if something was going on legally,” 

“Oh,” 

“I talked to Yunho this morning,” She says and you straighten up, “he told me what happened, he told me what they said about you and that I was the one who… and Eunji was acting weird, sneaky, I’m just sorry I didn’t call before,” 

“I know, it’s okay, I’m okay,” You breathe. 

“No,” She manages, “I should have called,” 

“Iseul, please,” You shake your head, “I don’t care about that anymore,” 

She sighs, and then she says something else, her voice low enough that you wonder where she is and if someone could overhear her side of things, “They’re working on a plan,” she says, “he’s not giving up, and the members are with him.” 

Relief fills your chest, “They are?” 

“Yunho said they’re moving fast,” 

Heat wells in your eyes, the start of tears, “Okay,” 

“We didn’t have much time to talk, but he said soon,” 

You nod, your hand tightening on your thigh as you get your emotions in check, “How did he seem? How is he?” 

”Not good, babe,” She admits, “he’s… it’s obvious he’s not sleeping or eating.” 

“I need to come home,” You breathe.

 “No,” She insists, “not yet,” 

“Iseul,” You massage a tight spot of anxiety on your chest. 

“He said he knows you’re far, he can feel that you’re not in Seoul,” She continues, “when I told him you were with Hana he looked so relieved,” 

Your eyes press shut. 

“Listen,” She murmurs, “I have a letter for you,” 

“A letter?” You take a deep breath. 

“He asked me not to read it, just to get it to you. I mailed it to Hana’s this morning,” She says softly. 

It feels like a lifeline.

“I know this is bad right now,” She says, “but tell me you’re okay,” 

“I don’t know,” You offer, “tell me this is going to work out?” 

“It’s going to work out,” She insists, “you’re not here, but people aren’t happy. Everyone has questions about your firing, even managers are asking questions. One of the security officers said the way KQ handled it didn’t sit right,” 

“Are you serious?” Your eyes widen. 

“People love you here,” She reminds you, “you’re family. I don’t know what happened in that room, but this is not going away like they want. You just have to stay strong.” 

You wipe the threat of tears away and nod, “I want to come home,” 

“I know,” She murmurs, “but trust him, I’ve never seen the members this serious. Something’s happening, something big,” 

“I trust him,” You breathe, “I trust you,” 

“We’ve got you,” She says, her voice stronger than how you’ve felt in days, “you’re coming home.” 

For the first time in five days, you feel a real moment of hope. 

“Babe,” She takes a sharp breath, “I am, I really… I’m so sorry,” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” 

“I didn’t tell them,” She says, “but Eunji still heard something from me, if I had just,” 

“You didn’t do anything that Yunho and I didn’t do ten times over,” You brush her guilt away, “sneaking off at the office, finding little ways to be together. We couldn’t help ourselves, and here we are. If it wasn’t her it would have been someone else, but you kept our secret, you didn’t do this,” 

She’s quiet for a moment and then she makes a soft sound to clear her throat, “You’re my best friend,” 

“You’re mine,” You reply automatically. 

“Listen,” She says, “I’ve got to go, I don’t want anyone to walk in and overhear, but look for the letter. He said the plan’s in there. Stay strong, and I’ll text you and keep you updated, we’re gonna figure this out.” 

You grab onto that thought with both hands, “Okay,” 

“I love you, girl,” She says softly. 

“Love you too,” 

When the call ends, emotion floods your chest. You're terrified, relieved, grateful, hopeful, all of it at once for the first time in days. It took a while, but you finally know the truth of what you always believed, Yunho’s fighting for you, just like he promised he would. 

Now you just have to wait. 

It takes two days, but his letter finally arrives. 

For two days you prepared yourself for what he could have written. You packed your bags for Seoul, you texted endlessly with Iseul, and you tried to find every chore under the sun around the house to help Hana and Em with to keep your mind off the impending something that was coming in the mail. 

When the post finally pushes through the mail slot in the door on the second day after your call, you run to get it, searching through the pile of papers until you see a manila envelope with your name on it. It feels like the sweetest relief, yesterday’s mail just bills and junk, a little bit of heartbreak even though you knew logically mail from Seoul would take longer than a single day.

But it’s here now, safely in your hands. You sink back against the door and tear it open, getting to the sealed letter inside, Yunho’s messy handwriting instantly identifiable. With shaking hands you let the rest of the mail fall to the floor and you pull open the crisp white envelope to get at the folded sheet of paper inside. 

y/n -

I love you, this first always. 

Tears spill over and you blink hard to clear your vision before you start the letter over again. 

y/n - 

I love you, this first always. You must hate me for this silence, for how long it’s been, but please remember I love you and I promise everything I’m doing now I do for you. You’re my heart, you are in me always. 

There’s so much to say, but I’ll do it in person. I have a plan, and the members are standing beside us. After they took you away, they made it clear that any contact with you from any of the members would mean a breach of contract. They still don’t know that we’ve already started working on negotiations, they think they caught us unprepared. Our outside attorney has been quietly advising us these past few days through Hongjoong, and we’ve put together all the plans and paperwork. It didn’t happen like it was supposed to, but we are going to push harder for renegotiation, and you’re a part of that. There’s so much to explain, so much legal jargon I’ve been researching for days, but we’re almost ready and all the risks seem worth it if you and I are together at the end of this.

I wish I could see you now, apologize for everything that happened. What they did to you was wrong, not just how they treated you as a person, but legally. I will explain it all when we see each other, but I have hope now and so should you. 

We’ve organized a meeting, and I hope you’ll come. Thursday, at ten after our schedules we will be staying late for more practice and meeting secretly with the attorney in person. Monday morning we have a meeting with our CEO. I am fighting for us, and I need you by my side. I don’t know where you are, but I feel it in my body that it’s not here, not home. I’m asking Iseul to get this letter to you, and I’m asking you to trust me. 

Please come home to me. I’m ready to fight for us, I’m ready for our story to start. 

I love you, I’ll never stop. 

Yours. 

By the time you’re finished reading, your hands are shaking, tears tracking down your cheeks.

With the letter clutched in your hand your heart feels like it’s finally beating to the right rhythm again.

“Hana,” You call into the depths of the house, scrubbing away your tears “I need a ride to Seoul!”

One more day, just one. 

Tomorrow, you’ll be back in his arms. 

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

The drive home feels longer than ever. 

It’s raining when you make it to the KQ studio space, a heavy dark downpour that leaves Hana driving slowly through deep puddles to get into the familiar parking garage. It’s fairly empty, it always is in the evening after eight or nine, so you’re able to park inconspicuously but still close to the lower access doors. 

Everything feels like the plot of a film, clandestine meetings and back door business deals. 

By the time Hana engages the parking brake, your heart is pounding in your chest. You breathe through it, unbuckling your seatbelt and hastily smoothing down your hair before pressing a hand to your anxious chest. 

Hana kills the ignition and twists in her seat, “We’re coming in with you,” 

“Yeah?” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I’m meeting him,” She nods, “and you need backup.” 

Em nods from the backseat and rests a warm hand on your shoulder, “You’re not going in alone.” 

Your phone buzzes in your hands and you nod before you see the text you’ve been waiting for from Iseul. 

“She’s downstairs,” You say, “let’s go,” 

Quietly, you all exit the car, waiting for only the briefest moment by the lower door. Iseul pops her head out as the heavy industrial door swings open and you rush forwards. 

She tugs you into a hug once you’re all safely inside and you can already feel the rising tide of emotion and nerves flooding through you. 

“Hey,” Iseul manages, her voice cracking, “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” 

“Me too,” You breathe back the rush of tears. 

“Everyone’s upstairs,” She says as you break apart, “are you ready?” 

“Ready for what?” You manage, “Yunho’s letter wasn’t clear on the specifics,” 

“Shit,” She says, “okay you’re going to want to take a deep breath.” 

“Why?” You glance to your sister. 

“There’s a lot of people here, it’s going to be fine though,” Iseul tells you, hitting the button for the elevator. 

“As long as he’s here I really don’t care if you have the entire National Assembly upstairs,” 

Iseul laughs softly, “I’ll remember you said that,” she says, and then she turns to acknowledge your family, “hi Hana, hi Em, I’m so glad you’re both here,” 

“Of course,” Hana says as the elevator doors open, “we’re here for whatever she needs,” 

Iseul smiles warmly as you all step into the elevator. 

As the doors close, you can hear them still talking - small talk about the rain, the drive to Seoul, but you can’t take it in. For the first time in days, you can feel him close again, and your heart picks up inside your chest. You don’t care what’s in store for you here, as long as you can see him again, feel his touch, as long as he’s still your center. 

The minute the doors open your feet start carrying you forwards, just a quick walk down the hall and into the studio space you know so well. Past the room where they do their dance practices is a series of smaller studios, offices, and a conference room with a large lobby in the center. You don’t need Iseul to tell you where he is, you feel the pull of him, and you follow it all the way down the corridor and around the corner into the main space. 

There’s other people here but you don’t take in a single soul except Yunho. He’s waiting for you, standing tall in the center of the lobby and watching for you, and the moment you round the corner and meet his eyes he’s moving. 

Your bag falls from your shoulder to the floor and you rush forwards to meet him.

He scoops you up like he has to touch you, pulling you into his arms in a desperate embrace, and finally the feeling inside you snaps. A relieved sob bubbles up from your throat and you bury your face into his shoulder, clinging to his sweatshirt. 

“You’re here,” He manages, his head pressed against yours. 

You nod, tightening your arms around his shoulders, “I missed you,” 

He makes a small, shuddering sound, his hand cupping the back of your head tenderly, and then all at once whatever walls he had maintained for days crumble to the ground. You feel him, his emotions, his mind, it all crashes into you. You know in a rush what he’s been dealing with for days. Unadulterated fear for you, shame in himself, betrayal, grief, and all encompassing anger. But beneath that, laced through every inch, is fierce determination and love, full and timeless for you. 

He breathes out in a shudder of relief before pulling back so he can see your face, smoothing back your hair to look at you, to love you, “Hi,” he murmurs softly. 

“Hi,” You touch his cheek as a smile spreads over his face. 

He looks tired, like stress has run him ragged since you’ve been gone, but he’s real and he’s solid under your touch. 

Behind you, Iseul gently clears her throat, and it breaks the spell. Glancing to either side you realize for the first time you’re not alone with him. 

“Yunho,” You murmur, “what’s going on?”

He nods, “Right, of course,” 

He’s hesitant to put you down, that you can feel, but he sets you back on your feet and chooses to hold your hand instead, fingers laced together tightly. 

His skin feels so right. 

Yunho straightens up, “Um,” he exhales, “okay there’s a lot to tell you,” 

“Hey, y/n,” Wooyoung says from a few feet away and you grin when you see him and all the members off to the side, looking a little emotional themselves. 

“Hey,” You feel so dizzy with happiness to be back here, to see so many faces you’d spent the last five years with. 

You look past them and around the lobby and your chest tightens, it’s more than just the members. You recognize managers, and you hear additional voices down the hall where you know there’s a kitchenette. You hear the sound of the espresso machine, and to the right of the hall, you can see more figures behind the frosted glass walls of the conference room. 

“Yunho,” You breathe. 

Iseul said there would be a lot of people here, and she wasn’t kidding. 

“I’ll explain everything soon,” He says, running his hands up and down your arms, “but everyone here is here to help us, to support us,” 

“Your managers,” Your eyes dart that way again. 

“Don’t agree with what’s happened at all,” He says firmly, “they’re like family to us, they didn’t want all of us to be treated this way,” 

“Everyone knows?” Your eyebrows raise. 

“Everyone here does,” He nods, “it’s all part of the plan for Monday,” 

Your head is spinning already, “I don’t,” 

“I promise I’ll explain,” He reiterates, “do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” 

“Then trust me,” He murmurs, “I promise, we’re going to be okay.” 

He’s so solid, so confident, and you blink back a hazy mist of tears, nodding to him. 

Yunho squeezes your hands and then he nods towards the doorway, “This must be Hana,” 

You remember yourself then, pulling him over, “God, I’m sorry,” you tell her, “yes, Hana and Em, this is Yunho.” 

Yunho bows deeply, and tight emotion catches in your throat, “Thank you both for taking care of her,” he says, “it’s… I’m honored to meet you. y/n speaks of you so warmly, I’m so glad to have you both here for us.” 

Em smiles widely, nudging her wife, “We’re so happy to meet you,” 

Hana nods, looking between the two of you, “Same,” he says, her eyes watering, “oh fuck, I’m going to cry already,” 

Yunho smiles. 

Em squeezes Hana’s shoulders and smoothly takes over, “It looks like you have a plan?” 

Yunho nods, “Yes, the short version is that we’re all set to do the final review of the renegotiations and prepare to speak with our CEO on Monday,” 

Your eyes flick to the board room, “Your attorney’s here?” 

He nods, “Ready to walk us through the paperwork and confirm the plan,” 

“And y/n’s involvement?” Hana clears her throat. 

“She’s part of everything,” Yunho says calmly, turning to you, “we’ll go over it in detail, but we want things fixed for you too, not just our contracts.” 

You nod. 

“There’s more to it than that, but,” He looks a little nervous, a brief flicker of it in his chest, but he shifts his attention back to your sister, “will you both stay? I know it’s late, but,” 

“We’re here,” Em nods. 

“Thank you,” He smiles, “there’s a kitchen that way, bathrooms down the hall to the left, and plenty of couches. Can I get you anything?” 

Hana and Em both shake their heads. 

“Yunho,” Hongjoong’s voice breaks your attention and you both look to the side, “we’re ready to start,” 

The members are filing into the boardroom and your heart seems to pound faster in your chest. 

“We’ll be right here,” Hana assures you, “come get us if you need us,” 

All you can do is nod. 

“Ready?” Yunho wraps his arm around you, this time steering you in the direction of the board room.

”As I can be,” You admit, “I still don’t know what’s going on,” 

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, “and there is something else,” 

You look up to him and he grimaces lightly. 

“My family’s here,” He says softly. 

“What?” Shock spreads through you. 

“They came up when I told them what was happening, and they brought some paperwork I needed from home,” He sums up quickly, “a lot is going to happen over the next few days, and I needed them here,” 

“You’re scaring me a little,”  

“It’s okay,” He smiles, “I swear, trust me, remember?” 

Anxiety tumbles in your gut as you round the corner into the conference room. Too much was happening, an overwhelming wave of information and whatever this meeting was would be no better you’re sure of that. 

But Yunho’s hand is in yours, his heartbeat steady. 

If nothing else is true in the world, you trust this man. 

The conference table is a long, expensive looking walnut right for a business meeting, and Yunho walks you to two middle seats saved just for you both. The members circle on either side of you, and across the table you’re face to face with Hongjoong and a sharp looking man in a suit who you can only assume is their attorney. Their managers sit in extra office chairs that have been wheeled into the room, and you’re acutely aware that every pair of eyes in the room is on you and Yunho. 

“Alright,” The attorney begins, “you must be y/n, I’m Attorney Choi,” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” You nod your head. 

“And you,” He smiles, and there’s genuine warmth in it, “everyone’s told me good things,” 

Heat pricks at your cheeks. 

He slides a few folders in front of himself and takes a quick sip of water. Your stomach tightens, remembering the folder packed full of lies from the last time you were in a KQ office. 

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your spine. 

“Now,” Attorney Choi says, “let’s get started, we have a coup to plan,” 

Your hands clasp together under the table, and you swallow nervously. 

“Joong,” Yunho prompts softly, and you watch Hongjoong nod. 

“Right,” He says, “y/n, I’m sure Yunho told you this part but Monday we are meeting with the CEO and we have some options.” 

You nod, and Yunho’s hand continues the slow comforting line up and down your back. 

“We have adjusted contracts ready,” He explains, “it includes everything we’ve agreed on as eight members. I’ll let Yunho talk you through those details later, but the most important thing for this conversation is that all romantic entanglement clauses are to be dropped immediately.” 

“With everything you’re negotiating for,” You glance between Hongjoong and Yunho, “do you expect they will agree or not?” 

Attorney Choi interjects smoothly, “They won’t, but we have a prepared list of changes and adjustments. Companies need to feel like they’re winning, like they’re getting the best part of the deal, so we’ll make them believe that.” 

You nod. 

“We also have separate documentation that concerns you,” Yunho says. 

Attorney Choi once again jumps in, “Miss y/n,” he says, tapping a small stack of papers on the tabletop to line them up before sliding them over to you, “please review these. We intend to assert on your behalf that your termination was not only harassment, but unlawful.” 

Your eyes skim the page at rapid speed and you can’t take in everything, but certain words jump out at you - misogynistic language, discrimination, libel, unfounded accusations, the list goes on. 

“This we want you to explicitly agree to,” Hongjoong says, “we won’t pursue it if you’re not comfortable.” 

Quickly you flip through the pages, glancing at Yunho, “You’ve read this?” 

“Carefully,” He assures you. 

You swallow, letting the papers fall closed so you can look up again, “I don’t want this to interfere with your ability to get a positive outcome in the negotiation.” 

Hongjoong shakes his head, “You getting your job back is a positive outcome,” 

“When push comes to shove,” Their attorney offers, “the courts don’t rule favorably for women in cases like these, I won’t lie to you.” 

Yunho turns to watch you, his eyes studying your expression, but you simply nod, “I know.” 

“That being said,” He continues, “no company wants this kind of story in the media or to spend time in court arguing the finer points of sexism. We use this to get your job back as part of the negotiation, and to give your relationship status with Mr. Jeong immunity,” 

“I’ll do it,” You nod. 

“You should read it through,” Hongjoong starts but you shake your head, turning to Yunho. 

“You’ve read it, what do you think?” 

He takes your hand, “It’s not without risk,” he says honestly, “but it’s our best option for keeping your name and your job in the negotiation process. I don’t want you left behind by whatever this this turns into,” 

You squeeze his hand, “I trust you.” 

He nods, the weight of that trust not lost on him, his thumb grazing slowly over your knuckles.

You turn back to Hongjoong, “I’ll do it,” 

He smiles a little and then nods, “Alright,” 

“What happens if they say no to everything?” You ask, “What happens if they don’t want to negotiate at all?” 

Hongjoong looks around the table at his members, and then finally back to you, “We are prepared to walk away from KQ if that happens.” 

Your stomach drops like lead, “What?” 

Hongjoong clears his throat, “For a long time, we’ve discussed the future after this company. KQ has taken care of us up until now, but we won’t tolerate a hostile work environment.” 

You grip Yunho’s hand harder.

“Mingi and I have talked about our own label since before debut,” He says and your eyes widen, “we always planned to do it someday, but if these negotiations go poorly, we are prepared to walk away as a group and rebuild under a new label, our own label.” 

“But,” You flounder, “The money,” 

Hongjoong nods, “It’s no small thing,” he agrees, “you’re right, but we’ve run the numbers. We can pay the debts we owe, and wash our hands of this company if we have to.”

You look to Yunho. 

“Our families,” He says softly, “many of them have agreed to become primary investors in the label,” 

Your eyes sting with tears, “But, that’s… this is too risky,” 

“It is risky,” Hongjoong says, “but it is a risk we are all willing to take together for the sake of all of our happiness and success.” 

You cover your mouth with your free hand, shock in every inch of your system. 

“In all likelihood,” Attorney Choi offers, “your CEO is a pragmatic man. At the potential of losing their only senior group publicly, they will meet our demands. Their wallets would not easily recover from that level of revenue loss, that is a risk I am confident they are not willing to take.” 

You let that sink in.

”They need us more than we need them,” Hongjoong says, “that we are all sure of.” 

You nod, your voice a little hoarse from the shock, “What more do you need from me?” 

“Right now, nothing,” Their attorney says, “be available if we need you to speak to KQ leadership directly, but otherwise your signature on a few documents will be enough.” 

“You won’t need to talk to them,” Yunho asserts. 

“I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do,” You tell them honestly. 

Attorney Choi nods, “Then let’s begin and review the plan for Monday,” 

Everyone nods, and you look at Yunho to see if you should leave, give them space to discuss the minutiae of contracts, but he holds your hand steady. 

The review takes over an hour, and the plan is layered and detailed. Their attorney will do the talking in the meeting, and state their intent to renegotiate immediately. He’ll cover the high points of their requests, and position things carefully where your firing and mistreatment is concerned. Management will be present to lend their support, all members will be there to personally state their own commitment to renegotiation or termination, and you will be patiently waiting by the phone. 

By the end your head is throbbing, every facet of the plan peeled open and examined to ensure the right outcome, but where they’ve all had over a week to come to terms with this plan, you’ve digested it at lightning speed. 

“It’s late,” Attorney Choi finally says, “this weekend get some rest where you can, this may be a long fight ahead.” 

It’s nearly midnight, and your head is fuzzy. You have an overwhelming urge to just sink into Yunho’s chest and beg him to take you home, but everyone’s still discussing little details amongst themselves and your head spins from all the information. 

“I feel good about it,” San says, standing and stretching, “not to be too confident too soon,” 

“Optimistic,” Seonghwa offers. 

Yunho nods in agreement, but you watch his hand nervously tighten and release as he stands. 

“Tomorrow we’ll,” Mingi trails off and then clears his throat “well, you’ll let us know,” 

Yunho nods, eyes flicking to you for a brief second, “I’ll text you,” 

Mingi smiles, “Alright,” 

Yunho’s hands slide over your shoulders and he gives you a squeeze, “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” You have to fight back a yawn, but you thank the attorney profusely before you turn to follow Yunho. 

When you make it to the door though, he pauses and wraps an arm around you, “Listen, I know it’s late, but I have a few people to introduce you to,” 

For a split second you don’t make sense of his words, but as you come out of the conference room and back into the lobby with the wide couches, it all clicks back into place. Sitting in the center of the room is Hana and Em on one couch, with Iseul perched delicately on the arm, and across from them on the opposite couch is an older couple and a young man in his early twenties that looks so similar to Yunho you think for a moment your sleepy brain is playing a trick on you until you remember his family is here. 

Iseul looks to you, and smiles, gesturing as subtly as possible for you to take a deep breath. 

Your eyes widen a little, and then Yunho steers you right into the conversational fray. 

“Baby,” He squeezes your shoulder, “I want you to meet my family,” 

You would have known it without him telling you. Now that you’re right in front of them it’s even more obvious, Yunho is the near spitting image of his father, though he’s a few inches taller, and Yunho’s brother is a younger, lankier, and tanner version of him, all three of them with the same kind smiles. His mother, though, you see Yunho’s eyes the moment you look at her. 

“Oh,” You breathe, and suddenly you wish you had worn something different or done absolutely anything to your hair. 

Those thoughts barely last though, because Yunho’s mother pushes her son aside to wrap her arms around you. 

“Eomma,” Yunho chastises softly, “let her breathe,” 

“Shush,” She says leaning back to look at you, her hands on your cheeks, “I’m meeting my new daughter,” 

Hot tears rush up in your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks, “I don’t know what to say,” you manage, “I’m so happy to meet you,”

“So are we,” She smooths your tears away, a motherly gesture that makes your heart lurch, and then she nods, “he said you were pretty,” 

“Eomma,” Yunho’s arm wraps around you again, effectively shifting you back into his embrace, “give her some air,” 

“It’s good to meet you,” Yunho’s father nods, “Yunho’s been talking of nothing else,” 

Gunho snorts a laugh at his big brother’s expense, and when you glance up you see the pink blush on his cheeks, the redness of his ears. 

You open your mouth to respond, but Yunho gives your shoulder a squeeze, “I see you met y/n’s family, I’m sorry, I should have done introductions before,” 

Yunho’s father waves his hand, “We’re fine, how was the meeting?” 

Yunho nods, “Productive,” 

“You all have a consensus?” He asks. 

“We’re set,” Yunho replies. 

“That’s good,” Yunho’s father replies, “any contract changes?” 

Yunho shakes his head, “All the same as before,” 

He nods and then meets your gaze, “How do you feel about the language for your suit? Comfortable?”

“Oh,” Your eyes widen a little. 

“Ah,” Yunho interjects, “I had our family attorney look everything over too, just to make sure I understood everything,” 

“I see,” You smile, warmth in your chest at how attentive he’s been, but you look back up to his father, “but yes, I’m good, I’m comfortable with everything,” 

“Good,” He nods, “if you have questions during the process, we can help with that too.” 

“Thank you so much,” You hope you don’t seem too surprised at the overwhelming kindness of his parents, but you are, despite all of Yunho’s stories about them. 

“For tomorrow,” His mother interjects, but Yunho smoothly cuts her off. 

“I haven’t gotten to talk her through everything yet,” Yunho says, “but I’ll let you know,” 

Her lips close in a small smile. 

Gunho glances up from his phone at his brother with a look on his face you can’t place. 

“Actually,” Yunho’s father turns to his wife, “yeobo, can you check something for me?” 

Yunho’s parents turn to each other briefly, but Yunho turns his head towards you and keeps his voice low, “You okay?” 

“I thought the meeting was Monday,” You ask your question as softly as possible, “why does everyone keep asking about tomorrow?” 

He gives you a fast, close lipped smile, “I have to talk to you about something,” 

Your heart gives a little lurch, “Yunho,” 

“Just,” His eyes dart from your face back up to his family, “one second,” 

He steps away, leaving you feeling suddenly adrift again, but as soon as he’s gone, Hana steps into your space. 

“Hey,” She says, “Em and I are going to head to your place,” 

“Okay,” You blink, “yeah,” 

“You’re staying with Yunho, right?” She checks. 

“I don’t,” You stumble a little over your words, “we didn’t talk about tonight, really,”

“We can wait,” Hana says. 

“No, it’s late,” 

Hana nods, but looks hesitant to leave if you need her. 

“Go,” You tell her with a smile, “I’ll be fine, there’s extra bedding in my linen closet upstairs just make yourselves comfortable. If I end up coming home I’ll crash on the couch.” 

“And you’re okay?” Em checks as she slips her jacket on. 

“I’m good,” You promise, “Yunho said there’s more for us to talk about, but you don’t have to wait for that.” 

Hana hesitates, and then she nods, “Call me if something’s up,” 

“I will,” 

They start to step away, Yunho still close to his family and talking to his parents quietly, but Hana interjects smoothly with a quick tap to Yunho’s arm. 

“We’re heading out for now,” She says and nods in your direction, “you’ve got her, right?” 

Yunho smiles widely, and you can see the clear potential for a fast friendship between them in the natural ease they have together, “Got her,” 

“Alright,” She smiles and bows to his family, “it was wonderful to meet you,” 

They exchange pleasant goodbyes, and you give Hana and Em one more hug before they go. 

“Well,” Yunho’s father smiles at the lull in conversation as your family leaves, “we should get back to our hotel too,”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Yunho’s mother wraps you in another hug, “we’ll get to know each other a little better,” 

“Tomorrow,” You start to say, but you’re sure you sound confused at yet another person who knows plans that you still don’t. 

“Alright,” Yunho breaks through, pulling you back, “drive safely,” 

Yunho’s father gives him a wry smile and then nods, “Come on, yeobo, give the kids some room,” 

Yunho’s mother makes a dismissive noise in the back of her throat but smiles goodnaturedly and gives Yunho a parting kiss on the cheek. 

You catch Gunho’s affectionate eye roll, a mirror image of Yunho’s and you stifle a laugh. 

Yunho’s family makes their way out of the lobby towards the elevators, and finally he lets out a tense breath. You can feel the stiffness through the bond, the locked up intensity of his shoulders. 

“Yun,” You lean into his side, “what’s tomorrow?” 

“I’m sorry,” He says, “you must be so confused.” 

“I trust you,” You remind him, “but so much is happening, I’m just trying to get my feet under me,” 

“I know,” He murmurs, glancing around to see who’s left in the space. 

“There’s more to the plan that we have to do tomorrow,” You search his face, “is that it?” 

“Not here, come with me,” Yunho says softly, pulling you by the hand down the hall into one of the smaller, more private conference rooms. 

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” You let out a nervous exhale, “I don’t know how you pulled all this together in a week,” 

“Most of it was already in progress,” He shuts the door behind you. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” You look up at him, “what’s happening tomorrow?” 

“I’ll explain,” He nods, “but first,” 

His lips collide with yours and you see stars, your bodies snapping together like magnets, and you make a soft, happy sound against his lips. Yunho stumbles back with you in his arms, bracing himself with one hand against the frosted glass wall of the conference room and you melt into him, clinging to his broad shoulders.

“I missed you,” He says between kisses, “I’m never letting you go again,”

You nod into a kiss. 

“I’m so sorry,” His breath hitches, “it shouldn’t have taken me so long,” 

You brush your fingers down his cheek, pulling back just enough to see his face, “Don’t,” you murmur, “we’re here now.” 

“I’m trying so hard to fix this,” He confesses, leaning back from the wall and cupping the back of your head. 

“You are,” You brush those thoughts of his away, “Yunho, I love you,”  

You feel all the tenderness, the overwhelm, and he swallows tightly, “I love you too,” 

Pressing up on your tiptoes you kiss him again, gentler this time as you rest your hand over his soulmark, feeling the tender thump of his heart under your palm. 

Breaking the kiss, Yunho touches your hand and holds it to his chest, straightening up to his full height and taking a deep, steadying breath, “Okay,” 

You nod, encouraging him forwards, rubbing a soft line over his chest with your thumb. 

“I need to ask you something,” He confesses, “but I’m nervous,” 

“Nervous?” You shake your head, “Baby, it’s me, you can ask me anything,” 

He smiles, his shoulders relaxing just a little. 

Soulmate bonds are such funny things. Six months ago, this man was a coworker, someone you thought about sometimes or someone that would make your stomach flutter, a little crush you were sure would fade. But a soulmate bond changes everything. If your parents had ever felt this, such an absolutely pure and transcendental love, you’re sure they would be believers too. That sudden click within you, the truth, potential embers of love suddenly stoked by the universe into a roaring flame, it’s not something you could fabricate. 

You watch as Yunho nods, almost pushing himself towards saying whatever it is, and you think to yourself that no matter how awful this week has been, anyone would be lucky to find a soulmate as good and kind as he is. 

“It’s me,” You murmur when he nods to himself again, “it’s just me,” 

“I know,” He sighs, “fuck, okay, I’ll just say it,” 

You watch him shake out his arms and take a deep breath before running a hand through his hair, finally facing you again properly and taking your hands in his. 

Anxiety knots in your stomach and you’re not sure if it's his or yours. 

“This is going to sound like a crazy idea,” He smiles a little nervously, “but I promise you I’ve thought about it, a lot actually, and this isn’t as impulsive as it’s going to sound, I promise,” 

“Yunho,” You can feel the nervous energy pouring out of him, “I trust you, just,” 

“Marry me,” He says in a breath, his hands coming up to catch your cheeks, “be mine in every way, be my wife.” 

Your words die off on your lips, your heart beating harder in your chest. In a million years, you never would have thought that was the question on his tongue, “Y-Yunho,”  

His smile widens at your shocked expression, but his thoughts keep pouring out, “We’ll have a wedding later, anything you want, as big as you want,” he says, “but come to the district office with me tomorrow. Marry me tomorrow,” 

Words don’t make it to your lips, but tears flood your eyes and you just can’t stop yourself from smiling.

Yunho leans in and kisses your forehead, “Please,” he murmurs, “they can choose not to believe the bond is real, but they can’t doubt a marriage license,” 

Your frantic heart stutters, and you wince. 

“We’ll be together,” He continues, another kiss against your hairline before he leans back to look at your face. 

You reach up, catching his hands and bringing them to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles, “Baby,” you murmur softly, “I love you, but I want you to want to marry me for the right reasons, not because we’re backed into a corner.” 

His eyes widen as he realizes his words, “That isn’t what I meant,” 

“Okay,” You nod slowly, pushing him to say more. 

Yunho laces your fingers together and gives you a squeeze, “When we renegotiate on Monday, whatever happens will happen, but people are going to find out about us,” 

You nod. 

“It’s only a matter of time, the more people that know, the faster it will get out there for everyone to see, for everyone to pull it apart.” 

He’s not wrong, not at all. 

“I know,” You nod.

“Jagi,” His voice is low, rough with emotion, “I want you safe. I want you to be able to come back to work, I don’t want you to make yourself smaller because I’m an idol.” 

You kiss his knuckles again, breathing out a shaky sigh. 

“I love you so much, and I want to be with you in every way. I want everyone to know who you are to me, and I want them to know there is no me anymore without you. Not at this company, in public, in private, it’s us,” He presses. 

You soften at that.

“Let me give you my name,” He murmurs, “let me love you the way you deserve. Marry me, y/n, please,” 

For the briefest moment, you think there isn’t a person alive who’s fighting harder for their soulmate than him, you feel that truth in every inch of your body. 

It doesn’t change the facts though, you’ve done all the research, you’ve seen what a mere whisper of romance will do to a career, to a public opinion of an idol and their partner. 

“Yunho,” You manage quietly, “there are no married idols, not our age. Think about your career, the group,” 

“Then let’s go first,” He says, uncoupling your hands and cupping your cheeks again, his face determined, “someone has to. If not us, then who?” 

You think of the airport floor, of screaming fans, of posts online full of hate. 

“I don’t want to wait for someone else to get up the nerve,” He insists, “I want you,” 

Your eyes flood with tears. 

“We’ll do it together,” He murmurs, wiping away a stray tear with the soft pad of his thumb. 

“Yunho,” You whisper. 

“I don’t have a single regret about meeting you and I have no shame in loving you,” He confesses, “the only thing that would break my heart is knowing that I’m hurting you.” 

Tears spill over, faster now as you take in his words. 

His brow creases at your tears, his own eyes shining, “Sweetheart, you’re not meant to be an afterthought to my career,” his voice cracks gently, “you’re my partner, and I would risk everything I am for you,” 

You know he means it, in each and every cell of his body. Some men would have buckled under all this pressure, would cling to their fame and their want to have both, and you know exactly where you would have ended up. Packaged away, made small, fearful of your own day to day life. Would today be the day you were photographed and exposed or would it be the next? Lies upon lies.

Even the strongest bond could buckle under all that weight.

You think of KQ’s attorney, smugly boasting about how he’s dealt with bonded couples before. Your gut feeling all those months ago was right, you aren’t the first idol soulmate bonds, but if you’re brave enough you can be the loudest. You can change things for the next couple, and the next after that. 

You think of Hana’s fear, how she stood up to your parents and chose Em despite it all. 

Your answer bubbles up from deep inside, “O-okay,” you say in a rushed breath, nodding, “okay, let’s get married,” 

He exhales sharply, a wide grin spreading over his face, a relieved laugh on his lips as tears track down his cheeks, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You told yourself once before that you would hold onto him with both hands, so you do, “yes, Yunho, yes,” 

He folds you into his arms and then hoists you up, hitching your legs around his waist and pressing his lips to yours in another, tender kiss. 

You’re a mess of emotions, both of you hidden away in this little conference room, but you’re together. 

After a moment though, a thought occurs to you and you break the kiss, “Did everyone know you were asking me?” 

His cheeks grow pink, “Define everyone,” 

Your eyes widen, your voice running high, “What if I had said no?”

“I was really, really hoping you’d say yes?” He grins. 

“Everyone knew,” You bury your face in his neck, heat blooming in your cheeks and chest. 

“Hey,” His hand runs up and down your back, “really, it’s just my parents and the members, and I guess our attorney, but if you said no that would have been okay, I swear, I would have just proposed again when you felt ready, it’s not,” 

You laugh into his shoulder and shake your head, “I’m not upset,” 

“You’re not?” He turns, his cheek resting against the top of your head. 

“A little overwhelmed,” You admit, “and embarrassed that I met my future in-laws wearing a hoodie and looking like I just spent the past week crying my eyes out, but,” 

“Hey,” He murmurs, “look at me,” 

With a slow breath in, you lift your head and meet his eyes. 

“I love you,” He says clearly, “they already love you too, they’re happy for me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” He says, unequivocally. 

“What do the members think of this plan?” You ask him quietly. 

“They understand why I want this,” He replies smoothly, “and what it means for all of us,” 

You nod, and there’s nothing more to say. You trust him, so you trust this. 

“Let me take you home,” He finally says, “it’s late, and we have to be up early now,” 

“To get married,” The words sound so strange on your tongue. 

“Yeah,” he smiles, “to get married,” 

“God,” You laugh, “I have to tell Hana and Em,” 

“I have to tell everyone you said yes,” He presses a peck to your lips before he lets you slide down from his arms, “and what time to get to the district office tomorrow,” 

“I want Hana there,” You grab his hand. 

He nods, lacing your fingers together, “Of course,” he says, “let’s get in the car, we’ll call her on the way home I’ll make sure she has everything she needs,” 

“Okay,” You breathe.

Quietly, you slip out of the now empty offices and make your way to Yunho’s car. Your head feels like it’s spinning, your soon-to-be-husband’s hand in yours is the only thing keeping you grounded. 

You tell your sister in a fresh wave of happy tears as the car weaves through the blocks of Seoul. 

You listen as Yunho tells her every detail of how to get to the district office,  what time, and what false name to give at the front desk so they’ll take her back to the right office. 

Your eyes can’t help but find the clock, your heart picking up, in less than twelve hours you’ll be his. 

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

For the first time in weeks, you wake up warm. 

The room around you is unfamiliar, but his body is solid and comforting, his leg hitched up over your hips and pinning you in place like a weighted blanket. If he wasn’t here, draped over you, it’s possible you would have thought the night before was a dream. The long anxious drive, the way you felt when you first saw him again, and all the paperwork, all the plans. 

Lying on your back you study the ceiling as the first threads of early morning light start to stretch through his room, Yunho’s voice asking you to marry him playing on a loop in your mind. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been thinking, but his gentle fingers on your jaw softly directing your face to the side is what brings you out of your head and back to the present. 

“Hey,” You say softly when you meet his eyes, “did I wake you?” 

A small smile spreads across his face and he shakes his head, “Mm-mm,” he murmurs, “you okay?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “just thinking,” 

He shifts in the covers, body curling around you even more until you’re properly eye to eye in the middle of the mattress, “About?” 

“Everything,” You confess, “yesterday doesn’t feel real,” 

He hums thoughtfully, cupping your cheek, “I know what you mean,” 

You let out a slow breath, rolling towards him, “Did I make up the part where we’re getting married today?” 

He grins, a little blush in his cheeks, “No, you didn’t make that up,” 

A nervous thrill bubbles through you, “This is so crazy,” 

“Maybe,” He says, covering your hand with his, “are you still saying yes?” 

“Yes,” The word leaves your lips before you can even process his question. 

He dips forwards, kissing you tenderly before he laughs softly and pulls away.

“What?” You smile up at him. 

“I just realized something,” He says with a smile. 

“Hmm?” 

“In a few hours, you’ll actually be my wife,” He grins wider. 

You laugh, a nervous, elated sound, excitement and anticipation spreading through you in equal measure, and you shift forwards to catch his lips in a kiss, “Husband,” you murmur, “that suits you,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” You nuzzle into him, pecking his lips again, “my husband,” 

He nudges you gently, nose to nose, his plush mouth to yours as he lazily kisses you, savoring every breath, “I like that,” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull yourself closer, deepening the kiss before disconnecting your lips for a breath, “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” 

“Not dreaming,” You can feel the upturned curve of his mouth as he kisses you again, rolling you onto your back as he slides his hands up your sides. 

You sigh pleasantly, body softening, “I missed you,” 

He nods, “Me too, baby,” 

“Married,” You laugh softly again, looking up into his deep brown eyes, “are we ready for this?” 

He studies your expression and then replies, “Probably not,” 

You blink, not expecting such blatant honesty, but he continues.

 “But,” He kisses you again, gently, “all the best things that have ever happened to me, happened when I didn’t think I was ready,” 

He’s right, it’s the same for you. You were hardly ready for him that day in Berlin, but nothing in the world would ever make you go back and give that up. 

You nod, sinking back into his kiss, your legs tangling together under the duvet. 

He makes a soft, happy hum against your mouth and slides his hand up to find your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

His hand in yours sparks something in your brain and you pull back with a little suck of air, your eyes widening, “We don’t even have rings,” 

He laughs, pecking your lips, and then leans back, “Actually,” he rolls off you, his expression suddenly a little sheepish, “we do,” 

That gets your attention, and you lift up your head to get a better look at him, “We do?” 

“Yeah,” He smiles, sliding away from you in the bed and leaning over the edge to pull the drawer of his nightstand open, “I meant to show you last night,” 

Your stomach does a somersault. 

When Yunho rolls back, he’s holding a small slate blue velvet box. You can see the box is vintage immediately, the velvet worn away on the corners and the front clasp an intricate brass clip, something companies wouldn’t bother manufacturing as nicely as this nowadays. 

“Oh,” You breathe. 

He places the box on the bed between you and takes a breath, “They’re simple,” he says, “I’ll get you an engagement ring later, but, well, these were my grandparents,” 

Your eyes flick up to his face, the tenderness in his expression hitting you right in the chest, and then you gingerly pick up the box and flip open the front clasp. He’s right, they are simple, but the delicate details of the two white gold bands aren’t lost on you in the slightest. His band is slightly wider, but both of them are etched with little stars, a few of the stars encrusted with tiny diamonds. 

“Oh, Yunho,” You sigh, your fingers gently tracing the rings, “they’re so beautiful,” 

“They’re very special to me,” He nods. 

You reach for his hand, “Is this why your parents are here? Did they bring these?” 

His lips close in a thin line, the tips of his ears reddening, “Not exactly,” 

“Not exactly or,” 

He looks down at the box, cleaning his throat, “I’ve had them,” 

For a moment you think he means that his grandparents left him the rings, that they’ve been in his possession the entire time, but you feel the start of his embarrassment through the bond. 

“Baby,” You murmur, “how long have you had them?” 

He smiles briefly and then sighs, looking up at you, “Since Paris,” 

Your eyes widen. 

“After we talked that night on the bridge,” He brushes your cheek, “I called my parents and told them I met you. I told them I wanted to have these for when it felt right,” 

You melt, “You grandparents were soulmates?” 

He nods, “Yes, they were together for sixty years,” 

“That’s beautiful,” You murmur. You wonder what it must have been like to grow up in a household full of that much love. 

“I want that for us,” Yunho says honestly. 

All you can do is nod, emotion thrumming in your chest. 

“God,” You grin, dipping into his broad chest with a laugh, “we’re so crazy, but I love you so much,” 

He chuckles and wraps you up again, “Me too,” 

“For today,” You say against his shoulder, “let’s just pretend everything is normal,” 

“What do you mean?” He looks down at you. 

“For today, you’re not an idol,” You smile, “we’re just us. We’re just two people in love,” 

He smiles at you tenderly, “Just us,” 

With your hand on the back of his neck you pull him down to meet your kiss, sinking into each other. In the early morning light  you kiss like the past week was a dream, no fear or doubt, just each other. Nothing hanging over your heads except the promise of a life together. 

Yunho shifts over you, dipping you back into the mattress, deepening the kisses with his tongue languidly probing your mouth. You sigh, your body feeling pleasant and warm, the first threads of your want and his starting to tangle together between you. 

Yunho’s hand tightens on your hip as he shifts over you a little more, the weight of him above you making you dizzy, and he hums happily, “I missed these lips,” 

“Mm,” Your fingers tighten in his hair, “me too,” 

“Missed you under me,” His kisses peck across your jaw and back to your swollen lips. 

A pulse of arousal beats inside you, but you shake your head. 

“So pretty,” He murmurs, hands searching your skin. 

As much as you want him, you push gently against his chest, “We have to get ready,” 

“We have time,” He nuzzles you, nipping your lip. 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head again, your lips still locked to his. 

Yunho’s hand slides up your body slowly until he’s cupping your breast, squeezing you a little suggestively and brushing his thumb over your hardening nipple.

Warmth blooms in your belly, but you pull back and shake your head, “Yunho, we’re getting married in like two hours,” 

He grins, “I know,” 

You laugh, “I mean, traditionally we wouldn’t even see each other the morning of the wedding, we really shouldn’t be having sex,” 

Yunho looks at the clock, “How long do you need to get ready?” 

“At least an hour,” 

“Then we have fifteen minutes,” Yunho meets your eyes, a cheeky look on his face. 

You sigh, about to protest, but then his thumb passes over your lips. 

“No sex,” He agrees, “but you’re here in my bed, and I haven’t touched you like this in weeks. Let me take care of you,” 

Your core flutters, nipples hardening and pebbling through your shirt. 

He takes in the change in your expression and nods, “That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down your body and tucking between your thighs to push them open. 

You let your legs fall slack, your breath warm against his cheek. 

“Missed you so much,” He presses a kiss to your forehead as his fingers travel slowly up your inner thigh to the seam of your underwear. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?” He shifts, his body sliding down in the bed as he slots between your thighs. 

“Yun,” You murmur, “what about you?” 

“Shh,” He tugs your underwear to the side, wasting no time getting his mouth on you. 

You gasp at the sudden connection of his tongue to your clit, your hips jerking. 

He glances up from between your splayed legs, giving you a look, and you slap your hand over your mouth in response, letting your head fall back into the mattress. 

“Mmhm,” He hums. 

You melt into the pleasure of his mouth. 

It takes thirty minutes, your bodies so hungry for one another that one orgasm isn’t enough. He worships you with his tongue, makes love to your cunt with his hot mouth, and by the second dizzying wave of pleasure you’re quietly begging to touch him too. The clock forgotten as you stroke him to his own release, the taste of yourself on his lips as he kisses you into the sheets. 

You’re a giggling mess by the end, frantically trying to get ready between needy touches. After your lightning fast showers, you’re making the most of every second, but he just can’t keep himself away from you. 

He kisses your neck while you apply your makeup, squeezes every plush inch of your skin while you root through your suitcase for something to wear. When you’re finally ready, he kisses you again, hot and hard, nearly toppling you back into the bed and ruining your perfectly applied lipstick. 

The moment he gets the text from his brother though, he sobers and gets himself together, the ring box tucked safely in his pants pocket. 

You quell the dizzying heat between you with a cool glass of water, and by the time you’re walking to the car, all of this morning is forgotten in a haze of nervous energy. 

The trip to the district office is strategic, both of you wearing hats and masks and scarves for a good measure of anonymity as you travel covertly in Gunho’s car to keep things as quiet as possible. At the district office, the doors open for you once you arrive, and it dawns on you that the offices aren’t properly open to the public yet. 

You distantly imagined a courtroom and a judge, perhaps one dedicated to weddings, but you’re ushered into a modest office with a kind looking older woman who tells you both to take a seat like it’s any other meeting. 

It turns out, when you don’t have a wedding dress or a big party, marriage is mostly paperwork. 

Yunho’s family stands behind his chair, and Hana and Em stand behind yours. 

You’re her first appointment of the day, early at only eight in the morning, and your district officiant offers you a cup of coffee before you sign yourself to each other in the eyes of the Republic. 

“Ah,” Ms. Kim, the officiant, says with a laugh that says this happens all the time, “this is the wrong form, let me print off the right copy,” 

Your chest feels tight, your palms suddenly clammy. 

“This is the 609C,” She explains, gesturing to the paper in her hands, “but this is for divorcees, I need the 609A for you two,” 

Yunho makes an affirmative sound, laughing along with the bureaucratic mix up, but you can only crack a smile. 

Ms. Kim navigates to the file on her ancient computer, adjusts her glasses and leans closer to the screen, and then nods before hitting print. 

“Alright,” She says, “let’s get you two married, yes?” 

That lightens the mood a little, and you release the taut breath in your chest. Hana squeezes your shoulder, and you rest your hand over hers for just a moment. 

Fishing the paper out of the printer, she checks the form’s number, nods, and then leans forward, “Bride, you fill in the top sections here and here,” she points out with a pen where to look, “and groom, you’re down here.” 

“And then?” You say as Yunho takes the paper and starts to skim through it. 

“I’ll take a copy of your documents, you’ll sign the bottom of the form, one of each of your witnesses will also sign, and then I’ll sign,” She recites, “I’ll stamp it with my very official seal, and then that’s it. You’ll be legally married,” 

“That’s easier than I thought it would be,” You manage. 

“Getting married is the easy part,” she smiles, “getting divorced has a lot more paperwork, I don’t recommend it.” 

Everyone chuckles at that. 

“Okay,” Yunho grins, picking up the black pen, “let’s do this.” 

“If you’ll provide your birth certificates and identification cards, I’ll just go get those photocopied while you fill things in. Wait to sign until I get back,” 

You produce the documents from your bag and pass them over to her, and then within a moment you’re alone with this form and your new family. 

Yunho takes his time writing things out to keep the form legible, and you lean forward to see, “What does it ask?” 

Without glancing up from the paper, Yunho reaches with his free hand, resting it on your knee and giving you a comforting squeeze, “The basics, nationality, family names,” he murmurs, “it’s alright,” 

He can feel your bubble of anxiety, from all your witnesses watching to the strange sense of dread that you might get something wrong on the form. 

You rest your hands on his, “Sorry,” you breathe, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” 

Yunho turns, but his mother speaks first, surprising you all, “Yesterday morning you had no idea you were getting married,” she points out, “I had months to prepare for our wedding and I was still a nervous wreck,” 

“You were?” The words slip out. 

She nods warmly, “I was, but you’ll do fine,” 

Yunho smiles and slides the paper to you, “Your turn,” 

He rests his hand on our back as you fill in the form, and it’s hardly as scary as it seemed a moment ago. You fill in your details, double check that you both didn’t miss any boxes, and by the time you’re done Ms. Kim is back and your nervousness has started to morph into excitement. 

You’re a few signatures away from being a wife. 

You had never really imagined that for yourself, not in the way that other little girls did. You’ve never picked out dresses, or thought of your dream venue. You don’t know what kind of engagement ring would look best or if you’d want to write your own vows. You had never let yourself dream that far ahead, always stunted by your parents' sharp expectations and your own inability to slow down and let yourself picture something better, happier than their marriage. But now, in the span of a few hours, you’re about to be someone’s wife.

“Ready?” Ms. Kim says, handing back your documents, “Let me take a look at things,” 

She skims the form with precision and then clips it to the front of your photocopied documents, and for the first time in your life, the thought of being married doesn’t fill you with panic. 

You slip your hand into Yunho’s, a smile tugging at your lips, and Yunho gives you a squeeze. 

“Perfect,” Ms. Kim says, “now, if you’d like, we can get those signatures and be done, but some couples like to say a few words and exchange rings if you have any. I’d be happy to talk you through that,” 

“We have rings,” Yunho reaches into his trouser pocket and produces the velvet box. 

His mother presses a handkerchief to her lips, and you see both of his parents’ eyes shining with tears. 

Ms. Kim nods warmly, “So, please face each other,” 

Yunho stands, drawing you up with him, and you face each other in the little space between the chairs. He’s handsome today, in a way that nearly stops your heart, dressed simply in dark charcoal gray trousers and a white button down, his dark black hair still a little tousled from his cap. He looks right for a wedding, and selfishly, you think he looks right for you too. 

“If you have any words for each other,” She prompts gently. 

You take Yunho’s hands, giving him a soft squeeze before dropping them, and then you turn to his parents, “Mr. and Mrs. Jeong,” you feel your throat tighten with emotion, but you continue, “I will never be able to thank you enough for raising Yunho,” 

His father wraps an arm around his wife. 

“For giving him the kindest home, the warmest love,” 

You hear a sniffle behind you, no doubt Hana crying. 

“You taught him to be a good man, and a good partner,” You continue, the honesty of it flowing out of you, “and I will work hard to deserve his love for the rest of my life, thank you,” 

You bow as deeply as you can in the small space, and they thank you softly, the weight of the makeshift ceremony finally sinking into everyone. 

When you turn back to Yunho, he’s hastily wiping away his tears. 

Your parents aren’t here, and even if they were you wouldn’t expect him to do more than a short, perfunctory statement, so you glance towards Ms. Kim, “Alright,” 

“Wait,” Yunho shakes his head, “hold on, my turn,” 

Ms. Kim laughs quietly, and so do your witnesses. 

Yunho holds your gaze, taking your hands in his. “y/n,” he exhales a deep breath, gathering himself, and then he speaks, “I can’t thank your parents for making you the woman that you are today, I think you did that all on your own, but I do have someone to thank.” 

Your throat closes with emotion as he turns to your baby sister. 

“Hana,” He smiles, eyes shining again, “from the first moment y/n talked about you, I knew your relationship was a special one. I am so grateful to you for being her sister, her friend, and her safe place.” 

Hana takes in a sharp, wet breath behind you and you smile. 

“We may not have it easy,” He continues, squeezing your hands, “but I know you will always be standing beside her, and I hope you know that I’m doing my best to live by what you said,” 

Tears track down your cheeks.

“I’m putting her first,” He smiles, “today and always,” 

He bows deeply, and when he rises up you’re both crying.

There’s a moment of silence while you collect yourselves, but sensing that the speeches are over, Ms. Kim interjects. 

“Yunho,” She says softly, “do you promise to take y/n as your lawfully wedded wife?” 

His eyes flick to yours, and you feel nothing but warmth and overwhelming love coursing through the bond, “I promise.” 

“y/n,” She turns to you, “do you promise to take Yunho as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

“I promise,” You nod. 

“Please exchange rings,” She says. 

Yunho takes the box and gently pulls out his grandmother’s ring. 

Slowly, he slides it onto your left ring finger, “I love you,” 

You take his grandfather’s ring from the box and follow him, the band slipping into place on his finger, “I love you too,” 

“If you’ll both sign,” Ms. Kim places the paper back down on the desk with a pen, “you’ll be married,” 

Yunho turns, his smile widening as he writes out his signature. In a haze of dizzy elation, you sign your name too. 

“Congratulations,” She says, “you’re husband and wife.” 

A giddy laugh bubbles from your lips, and without a moment’s hesitation or thought of anyone else in the world, he pulls you into his chest and dips low to capture your lips in a kiss. You can feel him smiling against your mouth, feel his overwhelming happiness, and you rest a hand over his heart, his soulmark. 

When you break apart, you realize everyone’s clapping, and you hide in Yunho’s chest for a moment before stepping away and facing the room. 

Hana barrels into you, squeezing you tightly. 

“Han!” You laugh. 

“That was a good speech,” She says, but it’s not to you.

”I meant it,” Yunho says. 

Hana nods, but Ms. Kim interrupts once more.

“Last bit of paperwork,” She says, “I need two witnesses to sign off,” 

Yunho pulls Gunho forwards and Hana unwraps herself from around you so they can both step up and sign. 

“We’ll get these filed today,” Ms. Kim adds, “I got the check for the expedition fee, so you should be able to pick the official license up on Friday at the front clerk’s office,” 

“That’s perfect,” Yunho nods, “thank you for agreeing to that,”

She smiles, a little knowingly, “It’s not the first time we’ve gotten the request from someone famous,” 

Yunho clears his throat, “Right, well, we’d prefer to,” 

“Ah,” She holds up a hand, “my lips are sealed. If you only knew the couples I’ve had in this office,” 

You smile, “Oh?” 

She takes the paperwork back and adds her own signature and stamp, “I could cast a reality show of my own,” she nods, and then makes the motion of zipping her lips closed, “but you’d never hear the details from me,” 

“Thank you,” Yunho says earnestly, “for everything.” 

“Mhm,” She smiles, “now, there’s a back entrance to the building if you’d like some privacy,” she checks her watch, “now that the building is open, if you go right out of this office and down the stairs to the garage.” 

“Thank you,” 

“Of course,” She nods as you all get your facemasks and hats, “congratulations again, you both have the real thing. Make sure to cherish it,” 

Looking up at Yunho, you soften, “We will.” 

The rest of the day is what you can only describe as a whirlwind. 

Yunho’s parents have arranged a private lunch, just family, and you spend hours getting to know them better and being quietly celebrated as a couple, even though you still maintain your distance in case anyone from the restaurant or on the street recognizes him. 

By the evening, you’re spent. A few glasses of wine combined with the crash after a week of drawn out stress leaves you feeling a strange mix of wired and exhausted. 

Quietly, Yunho communicates to his manager that he won’t be coming home tonight, but that he will be back on Sunday and ready for work. 

Hana and Em leave early to pick up their things from your apartment and check into a hotel, promising to stay close for the next few days as whatever unfolds, unfolds. 

When Gunho drops you both off at your apartment building, you slip into the elevator without seeing another soul despite the early hour. 

The hallway to your door is blissfully empty too. 

You trade little glances with him, strange newness to the sensation of him beside you. 

Your body thrums in the anticipation of being properly alone with him again. 

You key in your door code, fingers trembling with anticipation as you push over the threshold. 

The door is still swinging shut when Yunho yanks you into his arms, stumbling into the mirrored sliding closet door in your entryway, lips crashing onto yours, tongue dipping into your mouth to deepen it as your back flattens against the cool mirror. 

You fold into him, the bond between you hot and humming, and you moan against his lips. 

“God,” He clings to you, arms banded tight around you as he dives in for another kiss. 

Arousal pumps through you, and you suck in a sharp breath as your fingers pull at the buttons of his dress shirt, “Need you,” 

He nods, kicking his shoes off without missing a beat and walking you a little deeper into your apartment until he’s pushing you onto the kitchen counter. 

Your fingers drop from his shirt to his belt, tugging at the leather until it’s free, your eyes glued to the clear hardness straining through his dress pants. 

“Fuck,” He curses as your palm coasts over his clothed cock, and his hands push up the length of your silky dark green skirt, fabric pooling around your waist as he caresses your bare thighs.

You moan, both of you breathing heavily, the only sounds in the room your shared, heady pants and the zipper of his trousers as tug it down to free his cock. 

He pulls your thong down over your legs, letting them hang slack around one ankle, and pushes your thighs open wider. His fingers slide up your thigh and brush against the bare lips of your sex, but your head is pulsing with need, an ache so real you feel like you might scream if you don’t feel him in you, and you push his arm away. 

“Inside me,” Your hands anchor on his hips and you drag him forwards, “please,” 

He groans, the bare head of his cock nudging your soft center, “Let me make you come first,” 

You shake your head, “Can’t wait,” 

He swallows tightly, his hands hard on your hips as you angle yourself on the counter, opening up wider to him. 

“Mm,” He bites back a moan as his cock slides over you, “w-wait, I need to prep you,” 

You surge forwards, capturing his mouth and shaking your head, “No you don’t,” you pant, “please, just fuck me,” 

He chokes against you, a shudder through his whole body at the feeling of your raw need, and with a groan on both your lips, you feel his velvet cockhead catch deliciously on your entrance. 

“Baby,” He breathes, his last soft protest, resolve crumbling. 

Your fingers hitch onto his belt loops and pull him in again, his cock pushing inside you just an inch from his slight shift forwards. Your nails skate down his neck, your body trembling with need, “Please,” 

With a soft curse, his hips snap forward at the same time as his wide hands tug your hips towards him, spearing you open on the full length of his thick cock. You gasp against his mouth, he’s stretching you wide, and while it’s not painful it is an aching adjustment and your fingers grip down on him tightly. 

Yunho groans, a hot pant on your skin, “God, fuck, jagiya,” 

His forehead drops to yours, your bodies connected in every possible way, but you stay still together, just feeling each other and adjusting to the sudden sink of him inside you. But your body needs him, and in a moment you feel yourself slicking up and clenching around him. 

This time, he doesn’t wait for you to ask, doesn’t wait for you to beg. Fully in tune with you and your body, he moves. With one hand cupping your hip and the other holding your head, he starts to thrust, firm snaps of his hips that drag his hot length against every needy, aching spot inside you. 

Pleasure arcs up your spine with each rhythmic connection of his hips to yours, until you both lose yourself to deep, insatiable need. 

Your legs hitch onto his hips, your flats slipping off your feet and clattering to the floor, “H-harder,” 

His breath catches, but his body complies, forehead hard against yours as he drives into you again and again. 

“Ah,” His nails dig into your hip, “god,” 

“Y-Yunho,” You moan, head dropping back into his hand. 

Your combined pleasure starts to meld, after days of separation and weeks of not being able to touch like this, he feels your orgasm starting to build at the same time you feel his, and it spurns you both into frantic jerks of your bodies, needy moans. 

“C-close,” You whine. 

“Yes, yes,” He grits his teeth and groans, pumping into you, a sheen of sweat across his skin. 

One of your hands slips off his shoulders to brace yourself on the counter, heels digging into his back, and your orgasm crests over you in a sudden uncontrollable wave, fast and unexpected. 

You gasp sharply, nearly losing your hold on him, and he moans as the pleasure takes him under alongside you. Collapsing forwards, he rocks you back onto the counter, bracing himself fast with a hand against the backsplash to keep you from falling back into the tile, and with two more sharp thrusts he spills his release deep inside you, his cockhead pressed hard against your fluttering cervix as your walls spasm around him. 

You’re both sweaty, half dressed and a mess, eyes locked on each other as you breathe through one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Oh my god,” You manage, voice hoarse. 

His chest is still heaving, heart hammering, but he grins and flicks his head to move the dark hair that has fallen into his eyes, “Y-you okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your legs finally start to relax off the anchor points of his hips, your muscles weak. 

“Love you so much,” He says in a single, sated breath. 

You nod, your smile spreading wide. 

Slowly, he straightens up and draws you back up to a seated position, easing his cock out of your wet center with deliberate slowness. 

You hiss at the sensation change, your hips sore from being spread so wide open and taken so roughly, but the hurt is deeply satisfying after so long apart. 

“Are you,” He starts to say. 

“Can we go to bed?” You interrupt, relaxing onto his broad shoulder. 

“Let’s go,” He rights his trousers just enough so that they’re not falling down his hips, and then he pulls you into his arms, “are you sore?” 

“Only a little,” You assure him, still breathless, as he starts to take the stairs, “the bed’s softer than the counter,” 

“Mm,” his hand cups your ass, kneading the soft flesh, “I’ll kiss it better,” 

You smile against his chest, his skin radiating warmth through the fabric of his dress shirt. 

At the top of the landing he drops his head to avoid your low ceiling, and then walks you back to the bed, gently placing you on the edge of your mattress before dropping down to his knees between your splayed legs. 

Yunho cups your cheek, kissing you tenderly and smoothing your hair back over your shoulder, “So beautiful,” he says, almost to himself.

You soften. 

He leans back to get a look at you, his hands slowly tugging your black shirt out from the top of your silk skirt, pushing the fabric up to reveal the plane of your abdomen, your soulmark, the underside of your bare breasts. 

You ease back on your hands, letting him touch you how he likes, his eyes studying your body as he reveals inches of skin. 

Sinking back onto his heels, he pushes your skirt up around your hips, his lips, swollen from starving kisses, part at the sight of you half dressed and full of him. 

Yunho’s hand passes over your thigh, the top of your sex, resting on your stomach as he looks up to meet your eyes, “My pretty wife,” he says softly. 

The air feels thin, and you feel almost dizzy at his attentions, the sweet praise of his words. 

You expect him to touch you more, strip you bare, devour you whole, but he looks at you with something you can only describe as awe, and takes a shuddering breath. 

On his knees for you, he gives you a tender confession, “I’m yours,” he whispers, “you know that right?” 

Yours. 

His letter echoes in your mind. 

“I know,” You murmur.

“No matter what happens,” He takes your left hand, pressing a kiss over the ring, “you’ve changed me, forever, and I’m yours,” 

He breathes into your skin, and you brush your other hand over his hair, “Yunho, I’m yours too,” 

He nods, head still bowed. 

Emotion bubbles up in you, and you cup his cheeks, drawing his eyes up to your face, “Baby,” 

There’s something in him you can feel but you can’t name, a guarded tightness, some kind of anxiety in the shadow of his heart. 

He looks at you and waits, a little crease between his brows. 

He’s told you every way he loves you, and you need him to know the same. 

“I married you today because I want you, forever,” You swear to him, this more of a vow than your promise and shaky signature, “I didn’t marry you for the contracts, or my job, or because you asked.” 

He swallows, his throat bobbing as he listens, really listens to your words. 

“I belong to you,” 

He blinks away a sheen of tears. 

“Our bond, our marriage,” Your fingers brush over his face, ghosting over his lips, his jaw, “I’m here, I’m fighting for you too. I’m yours too, in every way that you’ll ever have me,” 

His breath hitches. 

You pull him in, drawing him closer, “Make love to me again,” 

He sighs, the last piece of his guarded tension falling away. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Yunho, please,” you kiss him softly, “love me again,” 

You tumble back into the sheets, his kisses reverent on your skin, his touch gentle. 

“My baby,” He sighs, lips traveling down your neck, “my love,” 

You sink into the sensation of him, one body, one living soul. 

“My wife,” he says softly, like a prayer. 

You answer him with your body, with the untethered openness of the bond. Together you move, connected once more, rocking into one another with slow, deliberate motion. 

One breath passed between you, slipped from his lungs to yours and back as you move together. 

Dizzy sensation, an echo of your first time together, of your bonding. 

Here, in every way, your story begins. 

______________________________________________________________ end note: as i mentioned at the top, one thing i wanted to mention without spoiling was around the idea of marriage/weddings. in my research i found out that korean weddings are pretty different to american weddings, or at least what i'm used to, but i also didn't want to overly assume customs or traditions and get it wrong. what i went with was a bit of a blend to keep things semi-accurate but lean romantic. i.e. it's a 'district office' not a courthouse, but i actually don't know what those weddings are like outside of some youtube videos i watched from the pov of foreigners marrying a korean-born person, which may have unique aspects just because of immigration. as far as the vows, i did find that korean vows more accurately translate to "I promise" rather than "I do", which i went with, and it's more common (according to reddit threads and google and like three weddings i watched on youtube lol) to thank your partner's parents for raising them vs. custom vows to one another. i found some inconsistencies on whether or not women in korea take their husband's last names and also generally some mixed information about other customs, so i kept it simple and romantic. if you're korean or more familiar with those customs, please suspend a bit of disbelief for me on this one, i'm doing my best.

lastly, if you're interested, i wanted to note the kind of tea blend that em prepared for reader was actually specifically chosen, and is a real tea blend that i have irl. i picture em slightly green-witchy, so i thought this might be a fun tidbit to share;

holy basil for purification, luck, and banishing negative energy lemongrass for open lines of communication and emotional cleansing dandelion root for resilience, growth, and transformation nettle for banishing unwanted energy and protection of the spirit ginkgo leaf for promoting longevity of the mind, body, and soul

[fixated-cookies]

Thinking about reader on their birthday getting "gentle" sex from pure vanilla and shmilk but he obviously has other plans for reader. PV starting by putting a blindfold on reader and giving them gentle kisses on their face and getting lower to their neck while shmilk is trying to resist just stuffing you full and pounding you to oblivion. He starts getting antsy and and changes the positions so you're now stradding him with PV still just staying on the side being so sweet and they slowly start to undress you and that's when shmilk can't hold back anymore. Cue to reader riding shmilk while PV is gently taking them from the back and whispering in their ear about how good they're taking them while shmilk is just letting every moan out. Wrote more than I thought I would but I can't help thinking about them on my birthday -👾

pairing- shadow milk cookie x reader x pure vanilla cookie

tags: blindfolding, smut, riding, piv, pia MDNI

I'm really thinking about pure vanilla putting a blindfold on you, its juicy and gets me thinking. I wouldn't be surprised if it was shadow milk's idea of course. he’d whisper the idea in Pure Vanilla’s ear with a teasing lilt, watching pure vanilla torn between propriety and temptation. “Oh, wouldn’t it be thrilling if our dear little darling didn’t know what was coming next? The anticipation… the suspense…~” all while grinning like he’s already picturing all the ways he could drive the reader insane with sensation alone.

But what’s interesting is the idea of Pure Vanilla actually liking it. At first, he might hesitate—after all, it feels a little unfair to take away one of your senses, doesn’t it? But then he realizes how much it deepens everything. How it makes you focus on his touch, his voice, the warmth of his breath against your skin.

And when he does tie the blindfold in place, he’d be so sweet about it. Soft whispers against yourear, “It’s alright, my love. Trust me.” He’d run his fingers gently down your arms to soothe any tension, kiss their forehead as reassurance. He wouldn’t be doing this to disorient you—no, he’d do it to heighten the experience, to make you feel everything so much more intensely. Now, I was thinking about what was making shadow milk so insatiable, the puppeteer, the mastermind, basically on his knees just to feel you around his cock? I'm going to go with the blindfold. It’s the way you're so utterly vulnerable—blinded, reaching out for something solid to hold onto, relying on your senses of touch and sound alone. It makes his heart ache with want. He watches how your breath hitches at every touch, how you tense in anticipation, and it’s too much. His self-control is hanging by a thread, fraying with every little sound you make from pure vanilla's kisses. And Pure Vanilla’s maddening patience isn’t helping. How can he be so calm? So gentle? Shadow Milk feels like he’s on fire, like something is clawing inside him demanding more—more heat, more movement, more everything. His fingers twitch at his sides as he watches Pure Vanilla ghosting his lips over your skin, barely touching you, just whispering the sweetest, most infuriatingly soft praises.

I'd like to think maybe its the way pure vanilla start undressing you so innocently, like it doesn't even bother him. He watches as Pure Vanilla exposes more and more of you—your soft, vulnerable form slowly revealed, piece by agonizing piece—while he can do nothing but sit there and take it. He grips his own thigh, nails digging in, trying so hard to keep himself in check. His breath is ragged, uneven, his entire body rigid with the sheer effort of restraint.

Pure Vanilla knows exactly what he’s doing.

He moves even slower now, savoring every second, dragging it out just to tease the tension in the air even further. His fingers ghost over your skin like a whisper, dipping just beneath the last few stubborn bits of fabric, and Shadow Milk swears he sees the softest little smirk on his face.

“You’re enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you, Saint?” he grits out, voice rough, strained. Pure Vanilla simply hums, his fingers toying with the last barrier of clothing between you and him.“Can you blame me?” he murmurs sweetly, as if he doesn’t already know he’s driving Shadow Milk insane. And oh, he really should’ve known better. Because the very next moment? Shadow Milk moves.

You barely have time to react before you’re straddling Shadow Milk, your thighs spread over his lap, his grip tight and possessive around you. His breathing is heavy, ragged, his entire frame tense beneath you as he drinks in the sight of you—flushed, blindfolded, vulnerable. His. “Ah, there we go,” he purrs, voice rough with something dark and unrestrained. His fingers flex on your hips, squeezing just enough to make you shiver. “That’s much better, don’t you think, dear heart?”

Behind you, Pure Vanilla doesn’t protest. He doesn’t stop him. He only lets out a soft, knowing hum, as if he expected this all along. As if he wanted this.

“You couldn’t wait, could you?” Pure Vanilla murmurs, his breath warm against your shoulder. “Always so impatient…” He makes himself comfortable behind you on top of shadow milk. It’s like a silent battle between them—Pure Vanilla’s slow, deliberate pace vs. Shadow Milk’s barely restrained desperation. And you? You’re caught in the middle, utterly helpless to the push and pull of their attention.

Pure vanilla catches your hips in his hands guiding you upwards, your hands lean onto shadow milk's chest for stability. His grip is firm but gentle, guiding you upward, keeping you right on the edge instead of letting you sink down and give in to Shadow Milk’s overwhelming need to have you on his leaky cock. Your hands tremble against Shadow Milk’s chest, feeling the thunderous rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

You feel pure vanilla lean onto your back slightly, lining himself up. You can feel his breath ghost over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispers—

"Happy birthday, my dear."

And then, finally, he lets you fall. Shadow Milk gasps beneath you, his grip tightening around your thighs as he finally gets what he’s been aching for. His head snaps forward, his sharp, heterochromatic eyes blown wide in stunned pleasure. He wanted this—needed it—but even he wasn’t prepared for the sudden rush of sensation of your warm, tight hole onto his cock.

Pure Vanilla stays steady behind you, hands still firm on your hips, controlling the movement with that same composed cruelty. His touch is guiding, unwavering, keeping you from giving in to Shadow Milk’s reckless, insatiable urges too soon. "See?" he hums, his lips brushing against your ear again, "Patience is rewarding, isn't it?" you feel him taking you from the back. Choked gasp and moans leaving out of your mouth.

Shadow Milk groans, his head tilting back against the pillows, his fingers twitching in frustration. "You're one to talk," he hisses, but his voice is strained, breathless, already unraveling.

Oh, he's so going to get back at Pure Vanilla for this later. But for now, he just going to sink into this feel a little bit longer. "You're doing so well… my love…" he whispers, but his breath hitches, just slightly. His grip on your hips tightens, fingertips pressing deeper into your skin as if anchoring himself. He thrust deeper into your ass, hips smushing against the plush softness. Shadow Milk, beneath you, is far less composed. His usual sharp tongue is failing him, words slurring as his head lolls back, lips parted in a breathless gasp. "A-Ah— shh-sweet thing, y-you… hhn— you—" Whatever taunt he was attempting dies on his tongue, his chest rising and falling in erratic motions. His clawed fingers twitch against your thighs, trying, needing to keep you bouncing on his length. Pure Vanilla's voice, though still gentle, begins to falter. His usually steady, controlled cadence becomes softer, more breathless, as he exhales against your shoulder. "So beautiful…" he murmurs

And then, just barely, in a hushed voice, "Please…"

A single word. A quiet plea. A crack in his perfect composure.

Shadow Milk whimpers beneath you, shuddering at the sound. "P-Pure Vanilla…" his voice breaks, and he squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed. "Hah—th-that’s just… n-not fair…"

"Oh, my dear…" Pure Vanilla hums softly, his lips grazing your ear as he tilts your hips just so. "You feel so wonderful—" a pause, calculated, knowing—"but oh… I think someone’s having trouble keeping up."

Shadow Milk lets out a low, shuddering whimper, his hands spasming against your skin. "S-shut… up…" he rasps, but there’s no bite to it, no strength behind his words. His breath is unsteady, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted as his chest heaves with each gasp as he feel himself deeper within your cunt. Pure Vanilla chuckles softly, his fingers tightening just slightly as he shifts behind you. "Oh, but this is a—ah celebration, isn’t it? A gift just for you…" His lips ghost over your shoulder, his hands never ceasing their steady guidance. "And yet…I'm sure you can hear him." Oh if only you could see this.

Shadow Milk lets out a low, shuddering gasp, his head tipping back, his chest rising and falling with each stuttered breath. His countless eyes flicker in between his hair, caught between frustration and sheer bliss.

"Such a mess…" Pure Vanilla muses, tilting his head. His fingers trail up your spine, gentle, reassuring, but his voice carries the unmistakable lilt of amusement. "And on your special day, no less… what a shame." Shadow Milk whines. He doesn’t mean to—he never would—but the sound slips past his lips before he can swallow it down. Pure Vanilla merely smiles against your skin, his tone achingly soft as he whispers,

"Make a wish, my love…"

---

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!! Can you tell I used inspiration from my own previous work lol. I love making shadow milk subby, he's such a switch though, its ridiculous. Also had pure vanilla take the reigns this time. I also think I'm going to start working on a masterlist soon, idk, but I've been writing a lot and I think my blog is kinda becoming a bit messy

[kooqitas]

— svt hiphop unit ★ reacting to 'can you just fuck me?'

you spent the whole day trying to get your boyfriend's attention, tired you just stand in front of him while he's sitting on the couch and angrily asks 'can you just fuck me?'

#notes: i don't think it's exactly a headcanon but i enjoyed writing it… #tags: pwp, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, spit,

⚠︎ english is NOT my first language, i just write for fun, if you don’t feel comfortable with grammatical mistakes DONT READ!

seungcheol!

he is presumptuous when he says a "i've been wanting to do this since morning, but you act like a whore and try to get my attention instead of just asking me to fuck your hole." so he slaps twice on his thigh and you obey at the same time. when you sit, cheol slaps you hard across the face and clenches your jaw. he puts two fingers inside you, and laughs when he sees how wet you are...

the problem with teasing cheol is that he doesn't get satiated easily, so he makes you cum on his fingers, then in his mouth, and on his dick... and even when you say you can't take it anymore he tests you some more saying that you are a his whore who was born to take his dick then gets some more.

wonwoo!

"fuck you? really?" he laughs. "i'm not interested today... play with your fingers, or are you so useless that you can only cum with my cock?"

but you know that this is your boyfriend's joke, especially when he starts taking his cock out of his underwear and asks in a not very polite way if your mouth is suitable for sucking or just acting like a desperate whore. wonwoo is not very gentle when he pushes your throat making your nose touch in his pelvis, not even when he cums making you feel the hot liquid running into you. but at least he lets you play with his cock all you want afterwards, jumping and rubbing yourself while listening to compliments about how you look like you were born for this.

mingyu!

"no, you don't deserve my dick" he says and then in the next second you are on your knees literally begging him to fuck you, he laughs, because the situation is extremely pathetic and he likes it. you suck his dick and when he cums on your face you finally think he's going to fuck you, but he just laughs saying you're too dirty, so he cleans you… with his spit…

and after spitting all over your face he spits on your breasts, taking the opportunity to suck and bite your nipples there, he opens your legs wide and spits several times on your pussy, and then puts his dick in without warning, thrusting roughly, you moan as he slaps yours tits, still red from the bite. and he threatens to stop when he cums, but it's mingyu and you know he would never do that, when he cums (before you), he just lowers his mouth to your pussy and sucks you until you come…

vernon!

"oh..." vernon looks at you seriously, trying to process what he heard from your mouth, but before you ask if you needs to repeat it he is already take on his knees in front of you, pulling one of your knees on his shoulder and sticking his tongue into you, no matter how much you scream that you'll end up falling when you cum, he doesn't care.

when you fall awkwardly after cumming on the plush carpet in the living room, he continues sucking you without any delicacy, and when he stops you don't even have time to complain because in the next second his fat cock is opening you wide open, he spits in your mouth so you can taste yourself and while he fucks you he loves to say that his big dick is widening your little pussy.

⸝⸝⸝

🍰 support me on ko-fi

[wrioluvr]

coming out to + confessing to belobog men. ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆

note: wanted to try my hand at writing more cute stuff <3 also there are like ZERO posts in the luka x male reader tag my baby deserves more. happy pride my beloved readers!!! i wrote this like 6 months ago and coincidentally just picked it back up in time for june! i don't even play hsr anymore... crying emoji content: male reader, fluff. luka, sampo, gepard

sampo (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

would 100% know before you even told him

"hey, [name]! heard you got something to tell me, don't worry, your good pal sampo's all ears."

"sampo... uh.....i like... guys...."

"oh, is that it? i thought it was obvious..."

"HUH????"

"i meant- thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. your secret's safe with me, hehe." placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture, he promises sincerely. despite his initial reaction, he really is touched. not many people trust him, so your willingness to share something so personal made him feel special.

"oh, and one more thing....."

"what is it? you got a secret boyfriend you didn't tell me about?" he asks teasingly, not expecting the bomb you're about to drop on him.

"...i like you."

his eyes go wide. "now that's a surprise."

even though he'd scam people without a second thought, some calling him cruel, he can't bring himself to be indifferent to you. here you were, pouring your heart out, with such a nervous expression on your face, how could he maintain his usual sly demeanour? in all seriousness, he knows he's a bit scummy, so he would be a bit hesitant about getting into a relationship for your sake. he's always running about, chased by the authorities, he doesn't want you to be involved into all that. but if you're willing to accept him and his slippery ways, he'll be sure to put an equal amount of effort. he hates owing favours, after all.

"oh, how could i refuse such a an enticing offer? of course i'll be your boyfriend, [name]." he can't help the grin that appears on his face at your expression, simultaneously shocked and overjoyed. "seriously, you're too precious.... c'mon, let's go on a date!" throwing an arm around you, he squeezes your shoulder excitedly.

"wha- like right now?? and you accepted my confession just like that???" you're at loss of words as he drags you along to who knows where.

"what are you waiting for? let's go, pal! wait- should i call you pal now that we're dating? how about buddy? hmm... still too friendly. how do you feel about sweetheart?"

જ⁀➴

every time he appears at your door, giving you a sheepish grin as he explains how he needs to lay low for a bit, it always comes with a kiss, or several, along with a heart-shaped box of your favourite chocolates. he might go missing for a few days at a time on "business" (probably some illegal trading), but he always makes sure to update you on his whereabouts so you don't worry, sending a bunch of heart pom-pom stickers to let you know he misses you. if anyone were to ever make some snide comments about your sexuality, his first instinct would be to drop every job he's doing and comfort you, followed by using his various contacts to deal with that person swiftly. natasha and seele can't believe he actually got someone to like him, much less get into a serious relationship, but nevertheless, they make sure to look out for you to ensure he doesn't break your heart. he vows not to ever hurt you though, it's the last thing he'd ever want. his promises are often fickle with his clients, but with you, they're always sincere.

luka (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

would definitely being overenthusiastic about being an ally

"[name], hey! you wanted to tell me something? i hope it's about training with me...."

"sorry, luka, it's not about that.... i.... i just wanted to let you know that i'm gay."

"oh! like seele and bronya!"

"i mean- i guess....?" your nervousness was immediately replaced by a comical surprise at his response, you had to suppress your laughter. he was so genuine, it was endearing.

"don't worry! if any thugs give you shit for it, just tell me. i'll deal with them right away... i've been itching for a fight anyway." he immediately gets into a fighting stance, throwing a few punches in the air to get his point across. he ended his little show with a wink, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. you decided to tell him then and there.

"and uh, luka. i like you."

"aw, thanks! i like you too. you're a great friend, [name]."

"like, in the romantic way..."

"that works too! that way, i can protect you easier." without missing a beat, he flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, seemingly unfazed by your sudden confession. but the slight dust of red on his cheeks let you know your words did have an effect.

"wait... you know this means we'll be boyfriends?" your head's reeling at how easily he accepted your feelings. did this man really not think about anything but training and beating up thugs??? not that you were complaining, his drive was one of his charming points, but still.

"yeah, i don't mind. with someone like you by my side, i'm sure i could take on any enemy. thank you for giving me this opportunity."

જ⁀➴

even though he puts on a strong front, secretly, he's deathly afraid of becoming a burden, especially to you. one of his favourite pastimes is training and working out with you, or he'd be content for you to just watch him train and cheer for him as well. as long as he has the reassurance that you know he's getting stronger, allowing him to shield you from the dangers of the underworld. if he ever gets injured, a simple persuasion won't work, you'll have to physically hold him in place so that you can treat his cuts and bruises - no matter how much he protests and insists he's fine, he does appreciate it. a lot. he enjoys the little things, the way you run your fingers along the cool metal of his arm as you ramble about your day, or the enthusiastic whoop you give every time he knocks an opponent out at the fight club, or the scent of the freshly cleaned towel you bring him to dry his sweat. you help him realise that there's time to relax, his self-imposed training schedule being so intense and demanding. getting him to not be so hard on himself would be a treat. if you ever get derogatory comments about your sexuality... trust, he'll personally teach them a lesson, and ask natasha not to treat them once he's done. after all, you give him another reason to continue training to be the strongest. he has to be there for you.

gepard ( •̀ - •́ )

dense cutie... wouldn't get your hints until you told him explicitly

"my apologies for being late, [name]... you had something you wanted to tell me?"

"no problem, gepard... i just wanted to tell you that-" taking a deep breath, you prepare youself for his reaction. "-i like guys."

"oh? me too, i'm quite fond of the guards under my care."

"i mean that i'm gay..."

"oh, that's what you meant. are you telling me this because you've faced some form of discrimination lately? don't worry, belobog has strict laws in place to prevent-"

"no, gepard- i'm telling this because i like you..."

"oh."

જ⁀➴

congratulations, you've courted the sweetest man in all of belobog! initially, he was slightly worried that your newfound relationship would interfere with his duties as protector of the people, but much to his surprise, making time for you is easy. or more so, it's because you always make the effort to stop by whenever he's out patrolling, so you end up spending a lot of time together anyway. his face might get red when you blow him a kiss behind the rest of the silvermane guards' backs, but he always makes sure to let you know how much he appreciates your guidance. he's a little self-conscious about his lack of romantic experience, so be gentle with him! don't tease him too much. while he is fully devoted to his duty, he's not above slipping away for a few minutes when you text him to meet in a back alley, to gift him some flowers you may or may not have stolen from belobog's florist. the next day, he would return the favour by holding out a bunch of your favourite flowers, home grown (an attempt was made) in his very own garden. hey, even if they're slightly wilted, it's the thought that counts, right? don't look at him with that affectionate gaze! he's embarrassed. it would be quite funny if you had criminal tendencies, gepard would be absolutely torn between lecturing you and turning a blind eye simply because his lovely boyfriend had made lunch for him earlier in the day. especially if you're friends with sampo, the little shit would threaten to snitch to you everytime gepard almost catches him. or.... perhaps.... he let you off the hook because of that one time you pinned him against some alley wall (when he was supposed to be patrolling! blasphemous.) and kissed him so hard his legs gave out. you've become one of his weaknesses, but he doesn't mind it. at all.

pic credits to dailysampo, dailygepard and dailylukaa on twt!

[a-killer-obsession]

Day 1 - Christmas Cracker Kid + Forced Orgasm

Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, multiple orgasms, praise, cumshot, softness

WC: 2.4k

You weren't sure what had gotten you so riled up, but not knowing didn't help the face that you were, in fact, immensely horny. Actually, that was wrong, you did know what had done it. It was your thick headed captain sparring with you shirtless on the deck that had caused your current frustration, pinning you underneath him with sweat dripping down his chest, breathing heavily from excursion. It had you tossing and turning in your bed, unable to shake the thought of him on top of you. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten so close to you, you knew you had a crush on him but you were starting to think he had an attraction to you too. You caved and masturbated, but it wasn't satisfying. You wanted him, needed him to be the one touching you.

With a discontented huff you threw off your covers and marched down the hall to his room in your singlet and panties. Nobody else was likely to see you anyway, and if they did, you didn't really care. You hesitantly knocked on his cabin door, pacing back and forth before you heard telltale stomps as he made his way to the door.

“Kid, do you want to fuck me?” You blurted out as soon as the door opened. He squinted at you, looking you up and down. Fuck, he looked so sexy like that, in only a pair of black sweatpants, his metal arm put aside, makeup washed off, chest bare and proud, and firey red hair messy and untamed without his goggles to hold it back.

“No of course not,” he grumbled, throat a little husky from sleeping. It was late, and you suddenly felt bad that you must have woken him. You hadn't even considered it, too overwhelmed by your need. “Why the fuck would I?”

“Oh. Okay, sorry-,” you replied, dishearted. Not only had you woken him, but you'd completely misread his intentions. “Sorry for bothering you so late, Captain,” you said, confidence lost as you stared at the floor, “I'll be going now.”

“Wait, are you okay?” He quickly touched your shoulder as you turned to leave, reading your body language and seeing how disappointed you were.

“I'm fine,” you lied, feeling embarrassed and a little like crying, “I thought- never mind, it doesn't matter what i thought, clearly I misread you.”

“Wait, this wasn't a test or something?” Kid queried, his hand still on your shoulder until you brushed it off.

“What?” You asked, confused as you turned back to him, “why the fuck would this be a test?”

“Because- because I'm your captain?” He replied with furrowed brows.

“I- no, Kid. This wasn't a test,” you sighed, “just forget it, it's fine, forget I said anything. Goodnight Captain, sorry for waking you.”

“I didn't mean it,” he said quickly, “I thought you wanted me to say I didn't.”

“Eustass, stop,” you barked, annoyed. You didn't like being coddled. “You don't have to force yourself to lie to make me feel better. I'm a big girl, I'll get over it.”

“I'm not lying,” he grumbled, grabbing the back of your shirt as you tried to walk away from him, “I want you.”

“Kid-” you began as you turned back to him.

In a quick motion, he pressed forward and pinned you to the wall beside his bedroom door. Your chest heaved as his front pressed against you, one hand pinned to the wall over your head. He wove his fingers through yours, looking down at you through thick red lashes, his amber eyes locking with yours.

“I've wanted you for so fucking long, you don't even know how fucking bad i want you,” he growled, “The things you do to me - fuck - when you're flitting about in your tight fucking mini skirts, bending over to grab things like you're just begging for me to fuck you right there in front of everyone. Your tits spilling out in those low cut blouses you're always wearing, I want to fucking rip them off you. I want you screaming underneath me until you're so fucked out you can’t even think anymore. I want you cumming on my cock over and over till you have nothing left to give, and then some. I wanna hear you crying my name while I’m making you feel so fucking good you never even think about fucking anyone but me ever again, because nobody else can make you cum like I can.”

“Kid-” you replied softly, surprised and confused.

“Say you want me,” he pressed, “say it. Say you want me to fuck you until you're blacking out. Say you want your captain to screw your pretty brains out.”

“Fuck-” you huffed, thighs rubbing together, “Captain-”

“Say it,” he growled, putting his weight against you until you could feel his erection against your front. You groaned at the feeling, knowing you were no doubt wet in response.

“Fuck me, Captain,” you finally whimpered, “please.”

Kid pulled you roughly into his cabin and used his devil fruit to shut and latch the door behind him. Your body was pushed against the back of it, and his mouth was on yours before you could even process the change in scenery. You whined into his mouth and he took the opportunity to force his tongue against yours, groping your breasts harshly with his one hand before kicking your feet apart and threading his hand under the band of your panties.

“Fuck, you're dripping,” he groaned as his fingers wove between your folds, moving his mouth to your neck and sucking on it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tugged on his hair until you could reclaim his mouth with yours, your moans swallowed as he pushed a thick finger inside you, his palm rolling against your clit. He soon after added a second, pumping you with determination, the gusset of your panties getting wet with your silk. He nosed against your jaw to turn your head again before returning to your neck, scattering kisses and nips over the sensitive skin. Your cunt fluttered around his fingers and he added a third, curling them with the intention of making you cum hard and fast.

Your nails sunk into his back as your other hand pulled on his hair. You moaned his name as your legs shook and your release flooded his hand. “Fuck, there you go,” he groaned as he worked you through the orgasm, pulling his fingers from you and rubbing your clit almost soothingly. You finally felt like that itch had been scratched, but Kid wasn't even close to being done with you.

Kissing you hard again, your cheek made wet with your own cum as he cupped it with his hand, he turned you away from the door and walked you backwards towards the bed until the back of your legs hit the mattress and you fell onto it. As soon as you were down he grabbed your panties and yanked them down your legs, before grabbing your thigh and pulling you towards him until your cunt was at the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor between your legs, hooking one over his shoulder as he kissed up your thigh, before licking a fat stripe up your center. You were quickly overstimulated, still sensitive from your first orgasm as Kid began to eat you out with fervor. You squirmed, but Kid held your thigh tight and growled against your pussy, making you whine. You balled the blankets under you with one hand, the other weaving through his red locks as his tongue worked at your clit or dove in and out of your hole.

“Oh fuck, Kid-” you moaned, “fuck, oh fuck.”

“Let it out,” he groaned, muffled by your cunt. Spurred on by his encouragement, your back arched off the bed and you ground against his face as you came for a second time. Kid lapped at your cunt, until you relaxed back against the mattress, panting hard as he kissed your thighs and tummy. He moved further up the bed, pushing your singlet up and pulling it over your head, leaving you naked against his bedding. He pulled off his sweatpants and you shimmied further on to the bed to make room for him as he settled between your legs. He mouthed at one breast as he groped the other, erection bumping against your pussy.

“Fuck, you've got no idea how many times I've jerked off thinking about these tits,” he groaned, burying his face in your chest, “or about fucking you, I bet your cunt is just as tight as I imagined.”

“Kid, please,” you whined, “fuck me, please Captain.”

Kid made a satisfied grunt at your begging and settled between your legs, pulling you towards him so your ass was raised against his thighs. He took his cock in his hand, red and needy, pumping it a few times before lining himself up. As he pressed in he pushed back against you, folding you back on yourself, your legs forced to hang over his shoulders for support. The position made it easier for him to manhandle you with one arm, his hand holding your thighs steady against him as he made an experimental thrust. His cock was thicker than you imagined, and you moaned at how full you were. “Fuck, I was right,” Kid huffed, making steady but heavy pumps into you, “so fucking tight.”

Kid bent over you, his hand next to your head to support his weight, your knees almost at your shoulders as he started to fuck you harder. You clawed at his back and pulled his hair, stealing kisses and nipping at his bottom lip whenever he was close enough. The position he had you in let him fuck you deeper, and you were sure the whole ship would hear you wailing. “That's right baby,” Kid praised, “scream for me, let everyone hear how fucking good I make you feel. You're taking me so well princess.”

Your nails sunk into his scarred back as you came again, Kid making a smug smile as you went boneless underneath him. “Quitting on me already?” He scoffed, “that's not gonna do, I know you've got more in you, baby.”

Kid could see your exhaustion, but he was committed to forcing as many orgasms from you as possible, so he pulled out and flipped you to your front, letting you lay prone to be more comfortable and straddling your thighs. He gave your ass a squeeze before reinserting himself with a satisfied grunt. He made slower thrusts, making you whine as you scrunched up the pillow under your head and nuzzled into it. The new pace was more casual, but still a pleasant pull against your over sensitive pussy. “There's a good girl,” Kid cooed, “just lay there and take it baby, you're doing so good.”

You felt like you were melting into the mattress as Kid fucked you with his languid pace, alternating between sitting up so he could play with the fat of your ass, and planting his hand on the bed next to you for deeper, harder thrusts. You moaned into the pillow, but Kid decided he didn't like your sounds being muffled, so he threaded his hand through the base of your hair and turned your head. “Let me hear you sing,” he groaned. With your sounds now clear for him he went back to squeezing your ass, before giving it a hard spank that made you jolt and whine. Kid grinned at your response and did it several more times, alternating between each cheek until your ass was sufficiently red and you were on the edge of cumming again.

“I can feel you're close again, baby,” Kid purred, “go ahead and cum on my cock princess, let me feel it.”

With barely anything left to give you went quiet as you came, scrunching the pillow hard in your hands and biting it with a deep groan. “Good girl,” Kid praised as you went limp again, “not done yet though sweetheart, I know you've got one more for me.”

You were exhausted as Kid pulled out and rolled you onto your back. He entered you again, making languid thrusts as he gave you a cocky smile at your half-lidded gaze. The stump of his left arm raised with a series of purple sparks, before his metal prosthetic flew to him and attached to it. With your legs spread either side of him, he pressed one digit of his metal arm against your clit and you whimpered as you tried to bat him away from the overstimulated nerves. “Kid- please, I can't,” you complained, “can't cum again.”

“You can, and you will baby,” Kid grinned, “come on now, one more, just for me.”

You whimpered as the metal digit began to vibrate against your bud and he increased the pace of his thrusting. He was in his final stretch of what his stamina could manage but he was determined to make you cum one more time before he did. The combination of hard heavy thrusts from his thick cock and deep vibrations on your sensitive nerves made you squirm helplessly, your moans now turned to silent screams as your eyes rolled. Kid's flesh arm kept you held firmly in place by your hip as he fucked you, an impossibly intense orgasm quickly growing despite your exhaustion. You gripped his wrist hard, unsure if you were begging him to stop or keep going.

“Fuck, there you go baby, you're so fucking tight,” Kid groaned, “cum for me babe, one more, then I'm gonna paint you so good.”

With one last breathless call of his name your back arched and you saw white, legs shaking and squeezing Kid as he swore under his breath and praised you. You blacked out for a moment, coming back to as Kid pulled out and jerked himself off over your stomach, hot white splashes scattering over your soft skin. “Fuck,” Kid panted, “you still with me?”

You used the last of your strength to pull him down to meet you, kissing him softly, too tired for anything more, before going boneless again. Kid smiled against your mouth before kissing your cheek tenderly and climbing off the bed, letting his metal arm fall back to the floor again. You were falling asleep against his blankets but heard the sound of his bath running, before the sound stopped and you were suddenly weightless. He carried you with his one arm to his tub, where he sank in and settled you in his lap. You fell asleep like that, warmed by the water and his embrace.

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Oneshots Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

[leesromanova]

natasha romanoff HC's

sooo i've never written anything like this before but i literally have a doc full of little HCs i have for nat, stuff like how she treats her partner and little quirks she has and wanted to publish them here let me know if i should do a pt. 2 or if i should do any one-shots with these little HCs :)

tags: natasha x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, some alluding to smut, lol just some thoughts i've got, mentions of red room and some things i imagine she's gone through, I JUST LOVER HER SM I WANT HER TO FEEL SAFE AND LOVED AND PROTECTED AGHHH

also i didn’t have time to revise to ignore mistakes lol

⋆｡°✩

physical touch:

she was so used to being "independent" she would often ignore her urges to feel close to someone. she was very hesitant with physical touch, it was hard for her to get used to having someone with her especially when it came to dating. when it came to you, she would shy away from hugs or even holding hands, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how you would feel holding someone like her in your embrace. i picture her being all stoic and cold on the outside but truly, deeply, wholeheartedly craving to feel love and connection with someone. once you noticed her hesitation you talked to her, letting her know that no matter what she thought of herself, none of it was true and that she deserved to feel loved and cherished, just like everyone else. that was the first time nat realized just how much she loved being held and holding someone.

it was morning and although it was early, it was all too late for natasha's routine. she didn't care, she just couldn't let go of you. your face so calm, and your chest rising up into her arm that was wrapped around your torso. her eyes traced the lines of your features. "are you going to keep staring or should i stay still so you take a picture?" she blushed and released you, grabbing a pillow from behind her to smack you with it, making you release a laugh. "i can't even look at my girlfriend lovingly in the mornings without being teased anymore" she'd pout and turn away from you. "aw, i'm sorry, come'ere" you'd scoop your arm around her and bring her closer to your chest. "isn't it a little late for you?" you'd ask as she'd settle under your chin and wrapped her arm over your own, lacing your fingers together. "yes it is, but it's fine, i want to soak this in a little more" you smiled as she released a content sigh.

⋆｡°✩

being protective:

i think nat would definitely be the kind of girlfriend to just want to make you feel protected and safe and would go out of her way to do so, she'd probably do tiny things to show this like; always walking on the outside of the sidewalk, holding your hand or putting her hand on the small of your back in crowds, she loves handing you her jacket as soon as you shiver or if you even rub your arms to keep warm and if you'd argue saying how she must also be cold she'd respond something like "russian's don't get cold" with a raised brow, but would secretly be freezing just to be able to know that you're warm. you'd obviously know she was cold and would hold her and say "okay chilly russian, get over here".

⋆｡°✩

wearing her clothes:

going back to her sharing her jacket with you, she'd love seeing you in her clothes. it was something about seeing you, the person she loved wearing something that was hers, and later would wear the same clothes only to find them doused in your perfume, mingled with something that was so you. you two would often steal pieces of each other's closets, wearing them without realizing until the other asked "is that mine?" you had a thing for stealing nat's leather jackets when she was out on missions.

once, she came home to an empty apartment and washed herself up, she was sitting on your shared couch, watching some random james bond movie you'd rented for her. munching some of her favorite snacks, as she heard your keys in the door and saw you come in. your eyes widened once you took her in and dropped your keys on the counter. "natasha! when did you get home? i thought you were going to be gone for another week?" she looked at you dumbfounded, focusing on the leather piece on your body and how it made your eyes sparkle just the right way and accentuated every part of you that she liked, she was picturing what you'd look like in nothing but the jacket- "nat?" you closed the door behind you, reaching to take off the jacket and get closer to your girlfriend. "oh no, no, no, leave it on. i'd much rather be the one taking it off." you would laugh at the smirk she had on, rushing to meet her lips against your own in a fit of giggles. "you're ridiculous, natasha romanoff" you'd say as she pulled back to take you in once again, "oh, but you love me y/n".

⋆｡°✩

playing with your hair:

she would loveee playing with your hair, whether it was brushing her fingers through it or combing it after you'd gotten out of the shower, or simply braiding it when she had the chance, she loved the feeling of being able to replace memories from her past with moments like these with you. i assume the red room was strict with what they allowed the widow's to wear, and do as well as being extremely competitive between all the girls. she probably had to learn how to braid her own hair by watching how the other girls would do so, being afraid to be put against them in combat for trying to "make friends" with her competition. she was glad to have someone who, instead of pushing her to open up, would allow her to share what she could about her past while being a soothing balm for her trauma and making her excited for her future.

⋆｡°✩

nightmares:

her fears and memories only came at night when she closed her eyes and those tortures of her past would come flooding back. i'd assume that when she joined SHEILD mandatory therapy and counseling would be necessary. being diagnosed with PTSD among other things, she'd probably learned how to not let her past get to her and how to stable herself in the present, but all that faded away when it came to times when she couldn't escape her dreams. she sometimes didn't even remember what plagued her nights when she awoke, feeling like she'd been put through the ringer. her scars, fully healed and forgotten, would sting, and her head would be pounding, as trickles of sweat littered her body. she'd awake after trashing and fighting invisible demons in bed, struggling or crying out for help. but you'd always be there to calm her.

"nat- nat!" you shook her awake. her eyes shot open with a gasp, she saw red. "get away from me!" she screamed and got up from bed, falling to the ground and huddled herself away in the corner. her face between her knees, her whole body shaking in fear. you'd talked with Bruce about this, he said the best move would be to turn on the lights and approach slowly, letting her see her surroundings and view you, to take in the fact that you weren't a threat. you got up and turn on your lamps. "nat, natty baby, it's me- it's y/n" you would grab some water and would approach her with caution, watching as her eyes shot around the room as she fully wakes up from her nightmares. as soon as she realized where she was and who she was with, the tears would come faster. "i'm sorry- i-i'm so sorry for waking you, i had no idea- i couldn't-" you scurried up to her side "hey, hey, hey" she'd stop and turn to look at you, sniffling as she lowered her knees. "none of that baby, are you okay? i got some water, here drink" she'd take a sip and put the glass down, zoning out and dissociating from her surroundings. you grab her chin and turn her to face you, her eyes meeting your own. "where'd you go?" her lip would start trembling as tears welled in her eyes. "th-they were all around me, looking at me like a piece of meat- i couldn't even defend myself, i was powerless- they-" her eyes would look away and began to focus on something else, you could sense her getting lost in the memory again. "nat, nat hey, hey. it's okay- you're here now, you're with me, you're away from him- from them. you're safe" she'd snap out of it and would wrap her arms around you suddenly, clinging on to you like a vice. "let's get you into the shower, yeah? let's wash you up and drink some tea yeah?" she'd only nod into your neck, and you'd lift her, taking her to the bathroom to help wash away the painful remnants of a rough night.

⋆｡°✩

the end! i was planning to add more but i thought i should see how this does first and then make another addition, if you guys would like! please let me know and if you have any constructive criticism, feel free to message me! :)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Day #7 - Prompt: Free Space | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Alcohol | POV: Steve | Tags: AU, Wrong Number, Right Person Trope, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Meet-Cute

Steve dials the number messily scrawled on the scrap of paper. He’s nervous. He’s always nervous when he has to stick his neck out and make a move on a girl these days. 

Yeah, he did the first bit of legwork and got her number out at the bar last night. But he's fumbled the ball and failed enough times, Robin's loving, but accurate, "you suck" burned in his brain, that he's always leery to try again. He should be used to it by now, but it’s still uncomfortable and awkward, every goddamn time. If his friends weren't all fretting about his emotional well-being from being so terminally alone, he wouldn’t put forth half the effort anymore. 

He has Robin. He has his cat. He's happy. 

It rings three times before he hears it connect, “Hello?”

It’s a man’s voice, and he hesitates for just a moment, “I’m looking for, uh, Lyla?”

“Sorry, man. Wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misdialed,” Steve says, a different kind of embarrassment. But this is one he can handle easier, for sure. So he pushed the wrong button somewhere along the way. His eyesight isn't the best thing he's got going for him.

“No worries, man,” the other guy laughs, seemingly carefree about being bothered.

They each disconnect and then Steve reads, and re-reads, the number before dialing again. More carefully this time.

It rings only once before it’s connected.

“Still me, dude,” the familiar voice relays, still light and friendly.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. Clearly, I was given a fake number. That's embarrassing,” Steve laughs, because this is more embarrassing than misdialing. He's uncomfortable and mortified to admit that this girl just didn't want him to call her. Even if he's only admitting it to a stranger.

She should have just told him no. He hates that she didn't, for her sake, too.

“Shitty move,” the other guy answers.

“Yeah, well. I'm sorry I bothered you. Again. I promise to cross-check any future numbers against yours before dialing, just in case.”

The guy laughs, "Well, now. Don't go to any trouble for my sake. Honestly,” and he doesn't sound put-out at all, “don’t worry about it. She clearly didn’t have the balls to just, be, like, honest. That sucks.”

Steve laughs, maybe if she'd had balls this wouldn't have happened at all. Most men feel more comfortable just saying no, he thinks, which is sad but true. He swings both ways, and maybe he should take this as a sign to lean the other way for a while. See if that works out any better for him. 

It probably won't, but he could try.

“There goes my big weekend plans,” Steve teases, uncertain why he does it, even as the words tumble out of his mouth. He needs to hang up the phone and let this guy get back to his own life.

“Dude. That's a problem I can solve. I’m gigging tonight. You have to come. Let me entertain you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Whatever. I want to. Just show up. It’ll be a great story, will it not?”

It would be a great story. One he could even tell Robin to convince her he’s living a little, “I don’t even know your name. What if you’re a serial killer or something?”

“Yep, that’s me. Vicious killer,” the guy laughs, “I’m Eddie, man. And I’m a fucking ball to be around. You’ll want to take me up on this awesome offer. We’ll all be down at Hellfire Club around eight. Show up. If you think we’re murderous, you don’t have to follow us to any secondary, secluded locations.”

Hellfire Club is literally two blocks from Steve’s apartment. He's been past it countless times, but never inside. It's always dark. Like it's not even open, making him unsure about what kind of bar it is, it's so nondescript from the outside. Not to mention the name is a little intimidating. He'd half-convinced himself it's a BDSM club. 

But, now that he's been invited, he could just walk down and see what’s the what, “How will I know which guy you are?”

Eddie laughs, “You’ll know. Trust me.”

Steve has a hard time trusting anyone new these days, but Eddie seems friendly enough. 

Steve realizes he must have been quiet for too long, because Eddie starts talking again.

“I’ll have on a badass battle vest. Look for that. You'll see me. It's impossible not to. I promise.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, even if he’s not sure what a battle vest even is.

“Now, are you going to tell me your name, or will that just be a surprise?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, “Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve stands in front of his closet for far too long, trying to find something to wear that doesn’t look too nerdy. He assumes Eddie's cool. He sounded cool, and Steve may have been cool in high school, but these days he just keeps his head down and goes through life, content to be fairly unnoticed. He finally settles on a black t-shirt. Basic, classic. Timeless.

Boring. 

But that's a risk he's willing to take.

He walks down the street slowly and arrives around eight-thirty. The windows are still all blacked out, tinted to the point he can't see anything inside. There's just the neon sign with the Hellfire Club over the door.

When he pulls open the door, he's in a hallway that's painted all black, with a bouncer at the end, stationed at a door. Steve kind of wants to turn around, flee, but he doesn't. He's already here. He might as well at least see. Robin will kill him if he chickens out.

He gives his ID to the bouncer, and is directed down a staircase. He really hopes this isn't a sex club. 

It's not.

And as soon as he crosses the threshold into the bar, yes, he knows Eddie instantly. He’s gotta be the one on the bar, pouring shots directly into various mouths. Steve knows he could turn around right now and this adventure could end. But watching Eddie laughing and prancing up and down the bar with flourish, clearly having fun, makes Steve want to go up and meet this guy.

Steve takes an open seat at the end of the bar, kind of out of the way, and just watches Eddie work the crowd.

The bar is blaring It's Raining Men and Eddie is playing up the song, big time. He's not a stripper, at least Steve doesn't think he is, but he's working the crowd for tips, absolutely. He keeps handing them down to a curly-headed guy, who keeps stuffing them into an overflowing jar.

Steve's pretty sure this is a gay club, or at least queer friendly. Maybe he has found a place for himself, something that's been right here under his nose, all this time.

When Eddie finally jumps down off the bar, Steve watches him work the rest of the room.

The other guy comes over and takes Steve's order, and he doesn't quite have the same flourish, but he's efficient and confident with a bottle and jigger.

"Name for the tab?" he asks, shaking the drink Steve had picked from the list.

"Steve," Steve says, and the guy looks up and meets his eyes.

Surely not. This doesn't feel like this is Eddie. He is wearing a vest, a red plaid one, but the other guy also has a denim vest on, full of patches.

"Eddie?" Steve questions, needing to make sure.

"Gareth," the guy says, "that's Eddie," he clarifies, pointing at the one Steve had correctly clocked as Eddie to begin with. "You're his wrong number guy, right?"

Steve nods. He supposes that's what he is, "Yeah. That's me. Loser in love."

Gareth laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"That's our specialty here, you'll feel right at home," Gareth teases.

"Glad to hear it."

"I'll tell him you're here," Gareth assures, "he wasn't sure you'd come."

"That makes two of us," Steve admits, and Gareth smiles as he finishes shaking Steve's drink, putting it down in front of him.

"On the house. First-timers to Hellfire drink free," Gareth says, and then he's walking away. 

Steve's eyes follow Gareth across the bar, watching as he taps Eddie on the shoulder, leaning close to his ear, pointing right at Steve.

Eddie looks, meets his eyes, and Steve raises his hand, giving him a small, little wiggle of his fingers.

A huge smile spreads across Eddie's face as he bounds in Steve's direction.

Eddie's quickly right in his personal space, squeezing both of Steve's shoulders, greeting him with a smile, "Welcome to Hellfire."

Steve smiles, liking the feeling of Eddie's hands bleeding through his t-shirt, warming him.

Eddie lets go, and Steve misses the feeling already, but Eddie stays. Sliding onto the stool next to Steve, "I'm glad you came."

And Steve's completely honest as he answers, "Me too."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

Notes: If you're too young to remember it, reach out and touch someone was the slogan/jingle for Bell System telephone company back in the day. So, that's where the title comes from, as a play on the wrong number phone call trope.

[violetasteracademic]

A little birdie told me the Elriel tags were in desperate need of some good vibes and unhinged smut, so dropping by to sprinkle a slutty lil one shot!

Summary:

Elain escapes to the Dawn Court for one evening, hoping to ease the pain of her broken heart with the distraction of a ball. But Azriel, the very shadowsinger she has sworn to forget, has followed her. And he isn't too keen on letting other males put their hands on the Night Court seer.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Rough sex, exhibitionism, mild pain/power dynamic kink, orgasm denial, breeding kink, garden fucking, yes literal hedge maze fucking, unhinged jealous possessive Azriel and Elain loves it, it's basically just kinky. But very beginner friendly! (er... in my opinion. I guess let me know if I'm wrong about that lolol)

This fic was inspired by Deep End by Ali Hazelwood for @yourstarsmyscars and all the girlies who went insane for Lukas Blomqvist as a modern day Azriel.

Read the fic here

Preview below the cut.

“Elain,” Azriel called after her, but she didn’t slow down. Not until she managed to shove her way through the crowded ballroom and burst out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. “Elain, stop.”

“You’re giving me orders now?” Elain spun on her heel. “What are you doing here, Azriel?”

Azriel’s nostrils flared. “I’m making sure you’re safe. Someone obviously needs to.”

Elain’s jaw fell open, then quickly snapped closed. She was right, then. He’d been sent after her. It stung more than she cared to admit. “I am perfectly safe. Not that it is any business of yours. You can tell my sisters there is nothing to worry about.”

Azriel’s gaze briefly flickered in confusion at the mention of her sisters, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy rage. “Oh really?” Azriel moved in on her, forcing her to retreat until the stone wall halted her movements. “Damon Thatcher is a sniveling creep. There is no way in hell I would let you accept a drink from him.”

“Let me?” Elain’s chest heaved. How dare he? “You don’t control what I do and don’t do Azriel. I will dance with whoever I want and drink champagne with whoever I want, and you don’t get to say a damn word about it.” 

She shoved at his chest, but he snatched her wrists in his hands and pressed her into the wall.

“Not him,” he said, so low and quiet her breath hitched. “Promise me it won’t be him. He’s an ass.”

Elain took a deep breath, trying desperately to clear the fog from the heat of his body and the light, heady buzz from the champagne. “Why does it matter to you?” 

Azriel’s pupils blew wide and his breath sawed through his chest. But he didn’t say a single word.

Elain’s heart was caving in. She couldn’t stand to be this close to Azriel. To breathe in his scent and feel his eyes boring into her, as if he would die if he couldn’t touch her. But he had already proven that wasn’t true. It was a mistake. He never wanted her in the way she thought. So why was he doing this?

“You don’t want me, but no one else gets to have me either? Is that what this is?” She shook her head and turned away, desperate to keep him from seeing the tears forming. “It seems like the only ass here is you, Azriel.” This time, he didn’t stop her when she shoved him away.

It broke something in her. After all this time, she still held on to some fragile hope that she hadn’t imagined everything between them. That the crazed and desperate look she sometimes saw in his eyes wasn’t just… Well, whatever it was. She had no idea anymore. But it hurt too much to try to understand.

“I won’t accept a drink or another dance from Damon,” Elain said over her shoulder. “I… I didn’t like the way he made me feel. But I am not leaving here alone tonight, Azriel. I can’t bear another night alone. So, please. Don’t interfere again.”

Her hand had just barely begun to reach for the knob when darkness swarmed around her.

She landed hard against a cold stone wall, and gasped for breath when the shadows faded and revealed a small fountain surrounded by hedges. Elain had seen the large hedge maze in the Dawn Court gardens, and briefly considered how romantic it would be to sneak quietly away if she indeed found someone she could attempt to distract herself from Azriel with. But it was Azriel himself gripping her wrists and looking like a half crazed animal.

“Azriel,” Elain hissed. “What are you doing?”

“No,” he choked out. 

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 I've got the Magic Touch 🤍

Summary: Gale catches you reading an erotic novel. While you read it, he takes your pleasure into his own hands.

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Established relationship; takes place after the events of the game; f!reader; breast groping; some fingering

Content for the novel: Kinda generic, cliché smut; mostly making out and a blowjob

Note: This is a reupload because the fic wasn't showing in the tags. Usually I dislike doing this, but to be totally honest I put a ton of effort into this fic and was pretty sad when literally only one person saw it because Tumblr is a bully. So here's to hoping it works out this time.

Felix pushed Sylvanna up to the wall, finally taking what he'd been craving for so long and giving her what she'd been waiting for ever since that one night.

"I just can't control myself around you," he whispered, the words hardly more than a deep growl from within his chest.

"Then don't," Sylvanna breathed in response, offering herself to him fully.

"What are you reading there, love?"

Gale's voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you've been reading. Startled by his sudden presence, you snap it shut, praying to whichever god will listen that he didn't take a peek at the pages before making himself known.

You're usually comfortable around Gale, but something about him finding out that you're reading filthy erotica in the middle of the day fills you with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just some old tome I've picked up from the bookstore earlier," you lie, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks. You're not a great liar, and Gale knows you too well to be easily fooled.

"Do you need anything?" You add the question, hoping it'll be enough to distract him.

When you lean back head far to look at Gale, looming over you, staring back with an amused expression.

"Why? Can't a wizard just walk into his own reading room anymore?" Gale asks with a chuckle, holding up his hands. He walks around the small couch in the middle of the room to sit next to you. You notice him prying at the book, so you promptly cover it with your hands.

"No, no, I'm just asking," you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Gale's cheek. "It's your home, of course you're always welcome here."

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here. I'd almost consider it your personal space by now," Gale says with a fond smile.

He's not wrong. This has quickly become one of your favorite spots in the whole tower, ever since you moved back to Waterdeep with him. It's comfortable, cozy, and perfect for rainy and cold days when you don't want to sit outside while reading.

Not to mention, the couch is big enough to fit the both of you on it. This has led to many evenings spent in here, doing things far more interesting than reading books with each other, which certainly adds to this being your favourite space.

"So, what's your book about?" Gale continues. "You seemed rather… Engrossed by it just now." You should've known he wouldn't just drop it. On the surface it seems like an innocent enough question. You often tell each other about your latest reads, discussing what's happening at great length. But this time, there's something else hidden under the innocent act, that you can't quite pin down. Maybe it's the slight smile tugging at his lips, or the glint in his eyes when he looks at you.

You shrug. "Just some cheesy, run of the mill romance. You'd probably find it rather boring." You try to sound as casual as you can, but even you can tell it's failing terribly. Gale isn't stupid, after all.

"Romance, huh?" Gale nods, giving you a look that says he doesn't believe a word you're saying. "So, which part of the romance has you squirming and pressing your thighs together?" He gives you a smirk.

You feel the heat rush to your face in an instant and Gale laughs upon seeing your expression, pulling you into a hug. "I'm not judging you. I was genuinely curious about what you're reading. It really did seem like you were enjoying yourself, so I wanted to know what got you so… worked up." He says it with a sincerity that makes your embarrassment melt away.

You uncover the book that you'd been hiding under your hands up until now and hand it to Gale.

The cover alone would probably be enough for anyone to tell what the book's contents are: A woman in a silky robe that barely covers her body, leaning against a faceless male figure, posessively holding her in his arms.

Gale inspects the cover, then turns his attention back to you. "What's it about?"

You sigh. "Well, it's this woman… Who becomes the apprentice of a powerful wizard… And she lives in his tower and they… You know."

You feel another rush of embarrassment as Gale nods, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."

You sigh, feeling the way your cheeks flush. "I'm not just reading it because you're a wizard and I'm fantasizing about you or anything like that. It's just… Well, the smut scenes are pretty good," you admit, averting your eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that. Although I certainly wouldn't mind you fantasizing about me," Gale assures you, chuckling a little. "But I am intrigued now. Is it really that good?"

You nod. "Yes, it's pretty good. You can read it once I'm done, if you'd like." This isn't Gale's usual taste in books, but he seems interested enough.

Gale thinks for a moment, shakes his head. "Actually, I've got a much better idea." He leans against the back of the couch, half lying down, and pats the space between his legs. "Come here," he says. He looks up at you with a warm smile.

You can guess what he has in mind already. This is how you usually sit when you're reading a book together. It seems like a good enough solution -- You can continue reading, and perhaps Gale's curiosity will be sated as well.

You lie down with your back against Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your temple before comfortably resting his head on your shoulder.

You're nestled in Gale's embrace, surrounded by his warmth. It's your favourite feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe in his arms.

He hands your book back to you and you open it where you last left off, beginning to read once again.

Felix didn't waste any time giving in to his desires. He pulled Sylvanna into a passionate kiss, their bodies practically melting together.

Sylvanna felt how hard he was, pressing up against her. She cupped him with her hand and began to slowly stroke him, earning her a low moan from him.

Your attention drifts from the words on the page to the sensation of Gale's lips, soft against your neck, followed by the subtle scratching of his beard over your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses there. Your breath hitches and you let your head sink back to grant him more access. To your surprise, Gale stops almost immediately and you feel him smile against your skin, almost smug.

"Keep reading," he says, his voice a little lower than usual, before continuing his trail of kisses. You can sense a hint of amusement in his voice -- He's enjoying this.

So this was his plan. You decide to go along with it, turning your focus back on the book once more.

Sylvanna dropped to her knees, fumbling to get Felix's pants off him. She was desperate to taste him, to be the one taking the lead for once.

S he looked up at Felix as she began slowly stroking his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Once again, your reading is interrupted when you feel Gale's hands travel across your body, grasping at your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You gasp as his touch goes bolder, hiking up your shirt just enough to be able to reach underneath it. His hands find your breasts once again, massaging them and gently tugging at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

It makes it all the harder to focus on your book, when all you want is to sink into Gale, close your eyes and let his touch take you to oblivion.

His movements stop again, shattering you bliss. "Try to stay focused, love," Gale whispers, followed by a kiss pressed right underneath your ear. It takes you a moment to catch on, to clear the fog that's been taking over your brain at his touch. The book.

You try to clear your mind and take in the words, but you're far too distracted by Gale to fully make sense of what you're reading. It's more like your eyes absentmindedly skim the pages while your thoughts keep slipping away.

When she finally put him in her mouth, Felix groaned deeply.

As she started sucking him off, he buried his hand in her hair, gently leading her movements.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, you're perfect. I should've given in to this desire sooner."

Gale's hands wander down your body, gently pulling your legs apart and stroking your thighs. As one of his hands pushes past the hem of your pants and underwear you feel a rush of excitement. His fingers slowly begin parting your folds and you can't help but let out a small moan.

You can only imagine how wet you must be already from everything. It only gets worse when he begins rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. You let out a small whimper and your hips involuntarily buckle up against him, causing Gale to use his free hand to gently push you back down, holding you in place.

"You haven't turned that page in a while," Gale notes, sounding amused. He doesn't stop what he's doing this time and you thank the gods for it. You're not sure what you'd do if he stopped touching you right now.

You only hum in response, hardly making sense of his words.

One of his fingers finds your hole, pushing a single digit inside and you let out another whimper.

"Well? Won't you keep going?" Gale asks again, although by the tone of his voice, you're sure he knows the answer already.

"Can't… Focus," you finally manage to say, and Gale hums in response. You feel the vibrations in his chest and somehow it only makes you even dizzier.

"I suppose you've gotten far enough," Gale says, grazing your flushed cheek with his lips.

He uses the hand that had been holding you in place to grab the book and set it aside.

"Well, this allows me to move a little better, so I don't mind either." He smirks and pulls you a little closer against him.

You can feel his own arousal pressing against your back, but your attention quickly gets pulled away when Gale fully pushes his first finger inside of you, slowly pumping it in and out. Your hips push against him once again, but he doesn't press them down this time, allowing you to fully embrace the pleasure.

Gale adds a second finger, picking up the pace along with it.

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, somehow finding Gale's lips for a passionate kiss. You squirm in his arms, whimpers growing louder as Gale manages to hit the spot that sends you over the edge.

He continues to pump his fingers while you shake and cry out in pleasure, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and you sink back against Gale, feeling lightheaded. Gale holds you close, pressing soft kisses against your temple as he lets you catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you manage to say after a while, finally able to form words again.

"Agreed," Gale says with a smile. "Although I hope you're up for a second round. There's something I could use a little help with."

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"OKAY, DOLL"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH BUCKY

I hope you like it! 🖤

tags: @therapyandprozac (here it is 😌☝)

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

Bucky had gone on a mission and wouldn't be back for another week.

He'd promised you he'd be back as soon as he could, but that was a long time ago.

You missed him so much, not just emotionally but physically as well.

You needed him, and the fact that you were ovulating didn't help the excitement you felt fade.

Every few minutes, images of him in his leather suit, smiling at you, while throwing knives at a target in the training room, came flooding back, making you almost gasp at the memory of the way his metal arm creaked slightly as he flexed it to aim better.

Days passed, and the next day you woke up when you heard a helicopter landing at the landing zone of Avengers Tower.

Without wasting any time, you quickly got up and put on a simple robe so your pajamas wouldn't show, and ran over.

The earliest members of the team were there: Natasha, who always got up to train, and Steve, whose nightmares about Hydra sometimes kept him from resting, not even at night.

Then you saw him.

Bucky got out of the helicopter and scanned everyone there with a careful gaze, until he saw you too.

A smile spread across his lips, as he opened his arms on either side of him, inviting you to come closer.

You didn't hesitate; you ran toward him, causing him to wrap his arms around you and spin you around theatrically before capturing your lips.

"Hi," he smiled against your mouth, and you mimicked his gesture.

"Hi, soldier," you replied flirtatiously. "I've missed you so much."

"Is that true?" He raised an eyebrow. You nodded. "I need to talk to Steve for a moment, but why don't you wait for me in our room?" He smiled. "I'm sure I can do something to make up for my absence."

You murmured an affirmation and walked away from him with an excited smile on your face.

After so many days, he was finally back, and you couldn't be happier.

You waited patiently in the room until you heard heavy footsteps approaching.

He opened the door slowly, and when he saw you sitting on the bed, he quickly moved closer to kiss you possessively.

It was clear he'd missed you too.

"God, you don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he growled, knocking you back onto the bed as he kissed you. "I've missed your mouth," he whispered. "Your neck," he murmured, kissing the spot where your pulse was beating. "All of you," he murmured with such devotion that it took your breath away.

He slipped off your robe, revealing your revealing pajamas that left nothing to the imagination.

His gaze focused on him for a moment before returning to your face. You blushed at the intensity of his gaze.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here,” he whispered. “You’ve touched yourself in my absence, thinking of me when I told you not to, haven’t you?” he asked. “Answer the question, darling,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you nodded, lost in the intensity of his clear eyes. “I… I know I shouldn’t have done it, but… I missed you too much, and…”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he murmured seriously. “I’m here now, and you won’t need your fingers to ease this tight pussy of yours,” he growled. “Because you’re going to cum with my cock,” he whispered, making you moan at his words. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he inquired. “Do you want to cum with my cock?”

"Yes," you gasped, "Bucky…"

"You were a very bad girl for disobeying me like that," he whispered, placing soft kisses on your lips. "I don't know if I should let you cum," he tilted his head, "unless you ask me properly."

"Please…" you sighed as he took off his leather jacket and shirt, doing the same with yours. "I need…"

He captured one of your nipples in his mouth, savoring it like it was his favorite ice cream, forcing you to throw your head back, drunk on the sensations you were experiencing after so many days.

"I'm listening, baby," he smiled. "He continued."

"I need you… to fuck me…" you gasped as he kissed your neck and lips again.

"See?" "He smiled," it wasn't that complicated.

"Shut up and do what I asked, please," you growled, impatient for him to fill you the way you'd dreamed of for days.

"Oh, someone's impatient," he whispered. "Okay, doll, since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you want."

It wasn't long after he said that until he slid inside you.

He pounded your walls mercilessly, showing you how much he'd missed you and giving you what you'd longed for.

You dug your nails into his back as you came, and after lying side by side on the bed, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before whispering, "I love you, doll."

You smiled, and before closing your eyes to go back to sleep, you replied, "I love you too, Buck."

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

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thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[sehodreams]

Could I request ways Riize members are toxic and possive and how utterly turns into sex

I hope I understood the request, toxic!riize is so interesting, maybe I lost myself a little bit, and sadly I couldn't imagine everyone. Also, Sungchan one is based on a few headcanons I've read before in the platform, I kind of almost wrote a full fic there and with Eunseok hahahaha

TW and tags: toxic!riize, dark!riize, manipulation, lying, a touch of verbal abuse, sexual content.

Eunseok, like I've said before, is really controlling. He wants to know where you are, who you are with and why you are even out, being capable of flooding your phone with texts demanding your location and, if you don't answer, going straight for your friends. This is pretty much based on how possessive he's with you, even before he starts courting you, he sees you as a potential partner only if he sees you're willing to obey him, for example, watching you for some time and how you talk to your parents, "yes dad, I'm here at school, I'll call you when I get back home", "dad but I want to stay, please... 'kay, I'll be waiting for you outside", and finding that you're a good girl easy to manage, he'll go for it. So, throughout the whole relationship, he won't have a hard time telling you to come back home, sometimes he did with nice words and little bribes like gifts and desserts, and in worst cases, lies about him not feeling well and hurting. The last one, of course, he only used it when you made things difficult for him, and it's not hard to convince you to come back, but it's hard to make you stay when you're so angry you can't stop crying while you say how preoccupied you were, you're honest, you say that only because you really were like that, so to stop you from leaving him, he'll apologize with that sweet voice he has, pushing you until he has you under him, and after that he would treat you as good as never before to make you forget why you were even mad, whispering exactly what you want to hear, all the praises you wished you had heard before, "such a good girl, listening to me so well'', and filling you with love remarks to make you remember that there's no one who loves you more than him, ''my pretty baby, crying for me because you were preoccupied, there's no one as good as you for me out there, my perfect girl.''

Sungchan is a really jealous boy, he loves his smart girl, he loves that whenever he says the name of your university everyone's impressed with the catch you are. Pretty, smart, kind, you're just perfect, which sounds amazing when he shows you off, but always makes him paranoid when he's not with you. He doesn't study with you, he's pretty, but he's not smart, so he lives in the gym and does his best to live as a trainer, and he knows he shouldn't bother you when you're so busy, but he can't stop himself. He calls you ten times a day and needs to meet every one of your friends, to feel calm and check that none of them put his position as your boyfriend in danger. He goes for you when you finish class to walk you home, and if you have a party, he's going with you. He's so fucking afraid of losing you that he can't even sleep well, and he's usually nice in bed, but if he sees you talking to a man or about a man too much, he gets lost when he touches you, leaving his nice side and pretty smile aside, he touches you until you can't talk anymore, a mess after so many orgasms, "so smart and pretty at the same time, I'm the only one who can make you this dumb, right?", because he believes that, if you can't even walk out of his apartment, of course you'll never leave him behind.

Sohee is extremely insecure, he wants to trust you, but he just can't. He tries to be good and contain himself, but before he notices it, he's already doing everything he knows he shouldn't, like checking your phone when you go to the bathroom, creating a fake profile to watch your social media and your friends, and watching all your and their stories to see if you told him the truth or not. He has tried numerous times to stop, he knows he shouldn't do it, that if he wants to have a healthy relationship with you he should trust you, but he can't, so when he sees you start suspecting he checks your phone and you take it to the bathroom with you, he decides he needs to do anything to see what you're hiding. So he fucks you even better than normal, the fire inside him pushing him to continue and continue thrusting inside you, "I'm sorry baby, I'll change, just feel how much I love you, you trust me right?", the insecurity giving him the strength to make you cum until you pass out, and once you're just like he wanted, deep asleep after everything he has done to you, he finds himself finally relaxing when he sees your phone as much as he wants, because that's a cycle that has no end.

Wonbin feels he has the right to control you and your decisions, what you eat, where you go, and especially, what you wear, so he's always judging how you look, sometimes even choosing your outfits himself because you really can't do anything well, and he can't let himself be seeing beside you if you're not looking your best. Like he says, he has a reputation to maintain. And doing all that, of course he decides when to fuck and where too. If you're in public and he feels the need to have you, you don't really have an option, whether you're on a reunion, a public place, even if you're extremely busy, if he wants to slip his hand under the skirt he chose, make you lie down and push to the side your pretty shorts or order you to go to your knees and suck him good, you'll do it, after all, he chose your outfits with the aim of getting what he wants fast and easy, and if you're good, he'll talk to you with a hint of affection and pride "shit baby, you'll have to redo your makeup, just look how you're crying all your eyeliner, but you look so good like that too", but if you don't leave him satisfied, he'll talk to you without an ounce of care, almost hurting you, ''Don't you dare come out looking like that, I don't need my girlfriend to look like a slut.''