#idk like we DO have a board at home
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lokh · 3 months ago
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gotta get better at talking to people
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danwhobrowses · 10 months ago
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Okay sure just split the group again I'm sure nothing could go wrong this time dividing them into sub-groups to sting at high levelled and relatively unknown areas with high risk and high threat of boss level enemies in the vicinity and then go on another break to make us stew on that, it's fine IT'S FINE!
#critical role#bell's hells#cr spoilers#c3 e89#critical role spoilers#the volition#ruby vanguard#the imperium#ruidus#unseelie court#universe really gotta hit me with Frieren season finale and CR going on a break AND One Piece going on a break!#it's like you want me to have nothing to do on Friday#honestly how many times in all 3 campaigns has splitting up worked? Not a lot Matt it's just evil PCs have died#my Callowmoore heart of course is relieved that Ashton and Fearne are in the same group this time - they're not gonna lose her again#maybe we can sneak in some combo moves for Bearne and Bashton - play a bit of holies#but still it's difficult to gauge how to deal with Athion plus maybe a dragon indoors plus Ira's willingness to leave people behind#Otohan and Ludinus can be lurking anywhere too#we still have no idea where Ryn is being kept either#the Liliana assassination attempt is doomed to fail and as much as it's a terrible choice I think Imogen needs to let her go#she talks about Ludinus like an abusive lover but acts blind to the cries of the people she says she's protecting#like woman go home! If they need you then removing yourself from the board stops them that's why there's a target on your back#but we all believe in Gaz supremacy at least#and more moon lore always gotta have the moon lore#tag reader's bonus: turtles live in every continent except antarctica#idk usually I have this many tags in ship posts so I drop a headcanon but this is more just panic so you get a nice turtle fact
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whumpy-wyrms · 1 year ago
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basement is flooding 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 :(((
#my most favorite magical amazing silliest place in the universe (my room) is in the basement :(#it’s not like Actually flooding but Someone (we don’t know who. might be our new neighbor.) turned on the hose outside and just. left it on#and the water leaked into our basement and into the walls and shit. there was a huge pool of water in the furnace room or whatever it’s#called and. there water literally underneath the floor. like literally water is leaking through the floor boards and i found out when i sat#on my rug and realized i was getting all wet. like i literally walked across my room and water was seeping through the cracks of the floor#water was EVERYWHERE#in like over half the basement. the floor of the main area is ruined i think and holy shit apparently like the inside of the walls or#foundation or whatever is so like wet and soggy that we might have to take out the entire wall that separates my room and the furnace room#and if we have to do that my stepdad says he’ll just remodel the entire basement while we’re at it. which means my room would basically be#gone. this is so fucking stupid#all because some idiot left the hose on. and we don’t even know who it is either. i think it’s our new neighbor because he kinda just#comes to our house a lot and talks to us or just hangs out in our yard. and sometimes he shows up when none of us are home#idk it’s stupid apparently there’s a shit ton of damage and that’s freaking me out because i literally love my room so much it’s my favorit#place to be ever and all my friends call it the autism room because it’s filled with all my favorite things#like my walls are bright neon lime green i got collections and shit i’ve got minecraft posters and like a million plushies everywhere#my room is literally so autism coded#ANYWAY. probably nothing will happen but yeah#side note i have a shit ton of asks to answer and tag games to catch up on and stories to read but i’ve had literally zero spoons lately#i’m gonna play minecrafttttt (in the process of building a pc so soon i’ll be able to get mc java!!! excited about that!!!!)#wyrms says stuff
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evvlogetarian · 10 months ago
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I'm just going to complain in tags sorry 😔 I should be better but...alas...
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homunculus-argument · 5 months ago
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Sometimes in therapy I feel like I don't have trauma in some correct sort of way. Like I'll be explaining that my childhood wasn't even really traumatic, just kind of bleak and boring. The worst my parents ever made me feel was disappointed, but not surprised. it was all so very mundane. And whenever some therapist asks me what I mean, I'll tell some random story that I happen to remember off the top of my head of what my childhood was like, or one that I think illustrated what kind of people my parents were and what their relationship was like.
Like this one time I remember when I was like 10 or so, I can't remember where we were going but the whole family was getting into the car, and dad started bitching at mom about how come when their first car was in his name, it was their car, and then when they had their own cars they had his car and her car, but now that they only have one car again, it's still just her car.
And then mom bitterly pointed out that the reason why he doesn't have a company benefit car anymore is because he lost his lisence for driving drunk with the kids on board while she was on a business trip. (And while mom didn't bring it up at the time, he had also tried to cover this up and act like nothing had happened. And she wouldn't have found out if my (11/12-year-old at the time?) sister hadn't thought of calling one of mom's friends like "hey cops showed up and took dad so we're home alone now idk what we're supposed to do now" and she came to watch us and told mom.)
...And I was like 10 and sitting quietly on the back seat listening to them bickering about this because they still both bothered to be mad about it. Not mad enough to get divorced or anything, but still bitter enough to bitch at each other about each other. And a therapist will be like wow how did that make you feel, and ???
Bored of it? Disappointed, but not surprised? That was just what life was like. Quietly waiting for bitter adults to be done bickering with each other because you can't do anything to fix this and while they could, they won't do anything to improve their lives. Life was just like that.
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bamsara · 5 months ago
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Hello! I was wondering what company you use for your sticker sheets? I bough one from your Ko-Fi shop and really like the quality, and the pricing you were able to sell at is waaaaaay more reasonable compared to any of the companies I've seen and used myself. Is it a POD company, or a mass purchase of them to sell on your own?
Thank you for your time if you're able to respond!
I'm really glad you like the quality, because I actually make them by hand at home! (Please forgive the lighting, my bedroom is my office lmao.)
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I don't use a company (and Idk what a POD company is sorry!) but making them at home gives a lot more freedom of stock, just be wary it can be very time consuming depending on how many you need to make.
I've had other people ask before, so here's a rundown of how I make my stickers at home: At most you'll need:
Printer
Sticker paper (this is the type that I use)
Laminator and lamination paper (the lamination paper that I use.) You can also use adhesive non-heat lamination paper if you don't have a laminator, gives you the same result, just be careful of bubbles. You will get double your worth out of a pack because we are splitting the pouches to cover two sticker sheets.
Your choice of a sticker cutting machine or just using scissors.
First, I use Cricut's software to print out the sticker sheet with the guidelines around the corners so the machine can read it. If you do NOT have a Cricut machine, open up your art program, make a canvas of 2550x3300 and fill it up with your sticker design with some cutting space between them. This the 8.5x11 size for the sticker page.
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I usually have bleed selected so the cut comes out cleaner. Tip for non-Cricut users below: Increase the border around your sticker design to fake the 'bleed' effect for a cleaner cut.
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These are the print settings I use for my printer. I use the 'use system dialogue' to make sure I can adjust the settings otherwise it prints out low quality by default. Make sure if you're using the above paper that you have 'matte' selected, and 'best quality' selected, these aren't usually selected by default.
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So you have your sticker sheet printed! Next is the lamination part. I use a hot laminator that was gifted to me, but there is no-heat types of lamination you can peel and stick on yourself if that's not an option.
(This is for protection and makes the colors pop, but if you prefer your stickers matte, you can skip to the cutting process.)
Important for Cricut users or those planning to get a Cricut: You're going to cut the lamination page to cover the stickers while also not covering the guidelines in the corners. First, take your lamination page and lay it over the sheet, take marker/pen and mark were the edges of your stickers are, and cut off the excess:
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(I save the scrap to use for smaller stickers or bonuses later on)
After you've cut out your lamination rectangle, separate the two layers and lay one down on your sticker sheet over your stickers with matte side down, shiny side up. (Save the other sheet for another sticker page)
The gloss of the lamination will prevent the machine from reading the guidelines, so be careful not to lay it over them. It also helps to cut the corners afterwards to prevent accidentally interfering with the guidelines.
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Now put that bad boy in the laminator! (Or self seal if you are using non-heat adhesive lamination)
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Congrats! You now have a laminated page full of stickers.
For non-cricut/folks cutting them out by hand: this is the part where you start going ham on the page with scisscors. Have fun~
Cutting machine: I put the page on a cutting mat and keep it aligned in the corner, and feed it into the machine. For laminated pages I go between 'cardstock' and 'poster board' so that it cuts all the way through without any issues, but for non-laminated pages or thinner pages, I stick for 'vinyl' and 'light card stock'. Kinda test around.
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Now I smash that go button:
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You have a sticker now!
The pros of making stickers at home is that you save some cost, and you have more control of your stock and how soon you can make new designs. (I can't really afford to factory produce my stickers anyway)
However, this can be a very time consuming, tedious process especially if you have to make a lot of them. There is also a LOT chance for some errors (misprints, miscuts, lamination bubbles, ect) that will leave you with B-grade or otherwise not-so-perfect or damaged stickers. (Little note, if you have page mess up in printing and can't be fed into the cricut machine, you can still laminate it and cut it out by hand too.)
I have to do a lot of sticker cutting by hand, so if you don't have a cricut don't stress too much about it. I have an entire drawer filled to the top of miscuts/misprints. I keep them because I don't want to be wasteful, so maybe one day they'll find another home. Sucks for my hand though.
But yeah! This is how I make my stickers at home! Hope this is helpful to anyone curious
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itsrlymine · 2 months ago
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idk if you’ve answered this before or if it’s something you may not want to answer but i was wondering how your journey from the early stages of finding out about manifesting up until knowing you’re the operant power and your full potential was like
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my manifesting journey so far
Hello my love! I think I just haven't seen the question yet but I would love to answer!
As far as I'm concerned, I knew manifesting as manifesting around the time I was 18 and in my first year of university. But ofc, I was manifesting the whole time before. The university I went to had the lowest acceptance percentage ever but I still managed to get in even with my grades that didn't meet their requirements and i didn't even do the college essay that everyone else had to do. I remember just deciding over and over that I would go there no matter what anybody said. I was told it was expensive and I didn't care, I was gonna go anyways. It was $40k/yr at the time and I got $36k worth of scholarship....... I just thought that was just luck.
Before then, I was obsessed with One Direction and 5 Seconds Of Summer like y'all it was bad! I wanted to see them in concert so freakin bad, it was like my life depended on it. I literally manifested them coming to my state and to a city that people don't really tour all the time and yall!!!!! I was like right in front of them and I def passed out hearing Zayn sing live. I saw both bands live together, it was incredible. I used subliminals to clear my skin in high school as well but eventually forgot about them.
I think having my dad tell me I could do anything I wanted is what lead me to believe that if I wanted something, it was automatically mine.
In college, I would always have s*x with the guys i wanted just by visualizing or saying they wanted me sooo bad (still works now!). I would make up friend groups in my head and then find that i would be in them not even two weeks later. I watched "The Secret" in my first year and that was really transformational for me bc I always felt like I was failing God and my family bc I didn't want to go the medical route/even finish college.
The summer of 2021, I was 22 and at home with my parents and broke asf and i said no more! I started consciously manifesting again even though I didn't know that's what it was called. I decided I would get a job in marketing that would pay me over $70k/yr even though I had one month of experience and only certifications in the field. Did that matter??? Of course not!!!!! It was remote and had unlimited pto and i could go on as many vacations a year as I wanted. I found out about the law a month after I started my job but for some reason, it felt so complicated and I found myself trying so damn hard rather than just reminding myself how I got what I wanted before. literally inner conversations, visualizing and talking out loud about my desires.
What made me realize I could manifest anything was when I changed my menstrual cycle and went to Dubai for free twice. What the 3d looks like never matters especially when it came to my cycle, I deadass couldn't see how my internal organs would change according to what I wanted but ofc they changed anyways. it was shortened and I haven't had cramps in months. Going to Dubai for free by imagining Abdullah slamming the door in my face and telling me I was in Dubai. I literally made a pinterest board of where I'd go in Dubai and I went to every single place. I would tell myself over and over that I'm gonna leave my wallet at home because everyone was gonna pay for me bc we are rich asf duh!. When I tell y'all that's exactly what happened!!!!
I've manifested so other "crazy" stuff but yea these ones definitely altered my brain chemistry.
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thetxtdevil · 3 months ago
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Orthopedics Surgeon
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Doctor!Taehyun x Doctor!Reader
summary: Know it all Dr. Taehyun knows who you did last night in the on-call room. Little do you know he wants some.
content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, sub/switch taehyun, switch reader (idk how I got there), nicknames are used, humping/thigh riding, hand job, classic riding, groping, condom use (yay!)
word count: 3.4k
honorable mentions: thank you @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for looking over this, I should kiss you for it.
“Can anyone tell me what the condition for a broken chordae tendineae is?” The cardiac surgeon asks while elbow deep in the patient’s chest cavity. The gorey scene before you was new to your young surgeon's eyes, the deep reds and pink hues, the constant rhythmic movements of the lungs and bypass of the heart was much different from a brain or an abdomen operation, and it excited you. Watching intently on what the surgeon was doing so you can replicate the techniques in your free time and even in your dreams.
The room was silent, a mixture of tired unamused faces and pale nauseous interns that didn’t answer. Either no one knows or they’re too scared to speak up, however, you raised your hand, you felt like a dork but it felt appropriate. After being ignored and given a few side glances you speak up, “Broken Heart Syndrome, sir.” You notice the surgeon faintly jolting at your voice and at the answer.
“Uhh, no,” the cardiac surgeon said strictly, “Broken Heart Syndrome is the diminishing of the cardiac muscle, the condition I was looking for was Chordae Tendineae Rupture.” Your cheeks burn red, if you weren’t sterile you would have hid your face with your hands. You try to bring yourself out of embarrassment thinking no one paid attention until a hushed chuckle forms next to you.
“And you want to be a cardiac surgeon?” Your head whips to the man next to you, a raised eyebrow above big round eyes glances at you, Dr. Kang Taehyun.
“Shut up, Bone Daddy,” you say in a low whisper making sure he was the only one who could hear the vulgar nickname. You’ve known Taehyun since your first day of internship at the hospital, he is the smartest in your class, and had his eyes on orthopedics along with the hot eligible workers. You’ve witnessed him getting close to the f-boy nurse, Yeonjun, after you told Taehyun about your accidental trip to the supply closet. Thinking he would be disgusted by the story, later you were surprised to see the doctor talking and laughing with the scrub nurse. You didn’t know what to think of Taehyun after that, a man you thought was a quiet nerdy boy was a man whore in disguise. 
So imagine how you felt when the both of you grasp a paper on the Public Information board of an apartment for sale. Internship was hard as it is, the event that happened earlier was definitely not the worst of it, adding troubles with living situations was just the cherry on top. This for sale pamphlet was a perfect opportunity to share rent with others, but you did not want to share it with Taehyun. 
“I don’t think you’re the one that is offering the apartment, so I don’t understand why you’re not letting me consider it.” Tae says as you both practically tug-of-war the paper, “come on y/n, we both need a place to stay and you know I have the best study methods, and I’ll share.”
“Yeah y/n, I don’t know why you’re so against it,” you let go of the paper to look at your best friend, Kai, he was also in the same class as you and Tae. Who you were also going to share rent with, but he was fine because he didn’t fool around, “give us one good reason why Taehyun can’t live with us.” You take a step back, looking back and forth the boys’ eyes, Kai had big hopeful eyes whereas Taehyun couldn’t care less. You did not want to tell him that the reason that you didn’t want Taehyun to live with you is because you didn’t want the possibility of him bringing anyone home and making… noises.
Rolling your eyes, “Fine, I’ll share with you, but you better pay rent on time.”
“Deal, Sweetheart.” you shiver at the nickname Tae has given you, hiding the reaction as you squint in distaste at the handsome smirk on the doctor’s face.
%%%
Years pass, the young internship days turned into years of resident chaos and now you spend your days as a full-on cardiothoracic surgeon. Yet you still share your bathroom with Kai and argue with Taehyun about not making enough coffee in the mornings.
This morning you were rushing to the hospital, you slept in from the tiring day before. Quickly changing into your seafoam green scrubs, tying your hair up, stuffing your stethoscope into your white coat while heading to the surgical floor for morning report. Walking around the desk crowded with many healthcare professionals, you make your way to Taehyun who had a counter spot open for you to put your papers.
Taehyun glances at you like everyone else did, but he was the only one to notice your strut. A slight smirk creeps his face as he notes the slight limp you have that he knows a little too well on girls. You come to the counter clicking your pen ready to write about your patients.
“Room 822, has a bit of delirium causing a higher heart rate, Room 304, has been complaining of pain but they are doing their exercises and tolerating meds…” You listen intently about your patients not noticing Taehyun’s constant glances every time you shifted weight on your feet. You are not an antsy person and Tae knows that. “What’s wrong, y/n?”
You throw a confused look at the doctor, “nothing,” you were feeling fine other than the pain you felt from being manhandled by the scrub nurse yesterday.
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.” Taehyun has known you for years and the years of living together has added to the closeness between you two. He knows that you don’t sleep with others all that often hence the soreness you show, but he had a little secret that he was dying to inform you.
As report ends the many scrub workers disperse throughout the unit. You walk over to the coffee maker in the breakroom pouring luke-warm brown water in your disposable cup when Taehyun slides himself next to you. You feel his eyes burning holes into you as you lazily focus not to spill your life source everywhere. An exhaled “what” leaves your lips making the man fix his posture before he speaks.
“Did you have a fun time yesterday?” Your eyes widen at his question, memories flash into your head of Yeonjun abusing your pussy so good. The way his fingers felt on your folds, the sensation of his abs against your spine as he whispers and kisses your ear. “You were pretty loud, I know you don’t get out much but damn-”
You quickly lower your coffee cup to smack the man, “shut up!”
Taehyun chuckles, “I should say the same thing to you, you should be happy that my patient was loopy on drugs or else they wouldn’t think they were imagining your fuck for a lifetime.”
Mixtures of emotions fill up your insides, frustrated by the cocky smirk of Tae’s plush lips, embarrassed by the fact that you were really that loud, angry that Tae brought it up. It was one of the best fucks you’ve had but you didn’t like that your friend was condescending you. Your mind gears start turning thinking of your next course of action, “what, are you jealous?”
Taehyun’s thick brows rise, he leans his head on the frame of the door, you watch closely to the bobbing of his adams apple as he swallows his thoughts. His big eyes darken for a second before he lifts his head, “no, just keep it down next time.”
You watch the man walk away as if he just talked about work and not that he heard every detail of your dirty secret. From the side of your eye you see the scrub nurse who keeps track of the surgeries, “Nurse, what is Dr. Taehyun’s schedule today?”
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Looking through the glass window that sits above the surgical room is like its some type of opera. These days the watching rooms aren’t used as much but since they are there fellow surgeons like to use the seating area for a place to chart and watch techniques to be used. You sat there doing just that, scrolling through your laptop checking on any procedures or medications needing to be ordered for your patients. Every now and then you glance down watching your friend do a total hip replacement. Your eyes linger on Taehyun and his form. He looked so cute with his golden scrub cap standing out from the neutral colors of the OR. Is it wrong to drool over the doctor's buff arms every time his tools hit hard on the bone of the patient? It amazed you how the blue gown wrapped snugly on the doctor’s body. The waistband hugged his small waist, the sleeve morphed to his muscular arms. Your friend has always been buff ever since your internship years but it seems like he has been working out harder, or is it that you’re looking at him harder.
The heart monitor sounds an alarm waking you up out of your drool-fest. Adrenaline rushes through your vessels instantly standing up to see what was going on with the patient on the table. The anesthesiologist looks at the jagged mountain shaped lines on the EKG, “signs of V-Tach, starting compressions.”
Taehyun looks stunned, not expecting such a turn of events on a simple hip replacement stepping away from the patient to not cause any additional harm, “Get the pads and set them to 100.”
A nurse drags the machine to the bed, the anesthesiologist shocks the patient, Taehyun winces seeing the slight jolt moving the incision sight of the hip, “no change.”
“Shock again at 200.”
“No change, still V-Tach, what do you want to do Doctor?”
Taehyun tells the other doctor to shock the patient again before glancing up to you. You were gone from where he last noticed you standing, before he knew it the scrub nurses got cardiac surgical supplies out and you came rushing through the sliding doors ready to be gowned and gloved.
“Why didn’t you know about this?” You say in a stern voice letting the nurse help the gown on you.
“It wasn’t noted in the chart.”
Looking over at the patient on the table it was a frail old man, “Would the heart condition derive from the operation”
“It can”
“That's why, it's probably a stress induced M.I.”
“Are you sure?”
You stop in your tracks looking up into the big boba eyes of Taehyun’s, “Do you want me to say it louder, Bone Daddy.” The silence in the room was loud, no one understood the reference only you and the other surgeon did. Taehyun bows his head, his blushed cheeks hidden under the mask. You take a step towards the patient, glancing at a displayed EKG of the heart rhythm, “yep, he’s having a heart attack, continue compressions, shock again at 200, and let's prepare for an angioplasty.”
Taehyun stands there admiring your intimidating demeanor, how pretty you looked with your scrunch up eyebrows, standing tall waiting for the patient to be prepped for your specialty. You look over at Dr. Taehyun and say, “Do you want to finish up your side of things?”
%%%
A cozy cool light casts over you as you snuggled up into the sofa watching whatever was on the TV screen. You dig around in the small white take-out box pushing aside the vegetables, looking for noodles to shove in your mouth. The front door clicks open, making you lift your head in attention to see Taehyun waddle tiredly into your guys’ shared apartment. His black hair hung into his eyes, tired body flops into a spot next to you, his whole body relaxing. Head tilting back, hands smoothing his legs that were manspreading. You grab another take-out box of chicken from the coffee table and give it to him. “Kai is on-call tonight and I didn’t know when you’ll get out of work so I just ordered–” You cut yourself off, right when you were about to reach over to get the man chopsticks, he grabs yours and licks any of your remnants off. Your eyes couldn’t care less about what was going on the TV screen. All you could focus on was your handsome friend’s sharp jaw move while chewing, and then how his pretty adams apple bounces after each swallow. 
A smirk turns his plush lips, swallowing his last bite he says, “thanks for helping me today.”
“Of course, you’d do the same for me” you giggle to yourself, “if for whatever reason a bone falls out while in the patient’s chest.” Tae smiles at your comment, your hand instinctively rubs his thigh in a comforting way but once you feel his muscle tense the mood changes.
Your fingers start to draw patterns on the man’s black slacks, “why were you hesitant before?” Taehyun’s head lifts to look at your eyes after watching your fingers, he hums inquisitively. “Why were you hesitant when I asked if you were jealous of me getting laid, are you?”
“I-” he starts getting distracted when he plays with the loose ends of your shorts, “I wouldn’t say I’m jealous, more like… thinking of what I am missing,” you hum at his confession. You both sit there trying to comprehend and decide what two want to make of this. Looking back into the big boba eyes, heat rushes up your spine, a need to also know what you’ve been missing after living with the man for so long. Like as if you could read each other's minds, when you lean your face towards Tae’s, he helps guide your leg to straddle his hips.
Your lips connect like a puzzle piece. His lips were dry and cracked from the habit of his lip-biting concentration, but it wasn’t like your saliva couldn’t help. Warmth of the smooth muscle fighting each other became an addicting game. You held onto his sweater pulling him impossibly closer to you. That same rush of heat boils down to your core making the sense of closeness start to grind down on Tae’s half hard dick. Taehyun moves his lips to your jaw and down to your neck, his ears perk when he gets a hint of your small whimper. Looking up to see you biting your lip hard as you get yourself off from the friction of his pants. “What's wrong sweetheart, let me hear you.”
You glance down at him with slight irritation that he stopped his sweet kisses. Rolling your hips harder on his hard cock presented you with the most beautiful sight of Taehyun’s eyebrows scrunching up and his lips widening letting out a moan of pleasure. His head tilts back, big hands gripping your ass like it was going to float away, he motions you harder onto him. You graze your nose against his neck relishing his homely scent that was all too familiar. Holding back the want to nibble at the skin you lift your head back to Taehyun’s plush lips. “Y/n-” you hum ignoring what he was trying to say, too addicted to the friction against your swollen clit, “ah- y/n, let's take this somewhere else.”
Still too engulfed by the man’s presence and wanting to get off just by his thighs, you didn’t answer. To your surprise, you were lifted up by the stronghold of Taehyun. Your hands reach for his shoulders holding him tight as he gets up with ease. Carrying you to his dark cold bedroom, dropping you down on his pristine white sheets, arms caging your seated position, hovering over you kissing deeply. Taehyun’s fingers dance under your shirt, “now sweetheart, I want to hear you like I’ve heard before,” he says, taking off your top along with your bra, “can you do that for me?”
His rough lips drift low to your hardening nipples making you answer with a breathy, “y-yes.”
Tae hums, satisfied with the state you’re in. He removes his shirt leaving you in awe, you’ve seen him shirtless before roaming around the house, but under the dim lighting paired with his lustful eyes, the sight made you shiver. The man walks away from you, your puppy eyes trail him watching him sit comfortably on his bed, back against his pillows. Following him to his spot, he stops you quickly tugging at your shorts. You slide them off with your panties and stand there waiting for his next request. “Sit on my thigh.”
Your cheek burns pink, bare pussy pressed against the textured material of Taehyun’s slacks. Your body instinctively starts to grind, head tilting back as excitement warms your stomach. Tae’s hands grip onto your hips helping you move, “Feel good?”
Your whine brings a smile to the man’s face, you open your eyes to get a glimpse of his canine grin. Taehyun’s smirk disappears into something more mischievous, you start to feel his leg bounce. Hands quickly grasp his shoulders keeping you stable, “A-ah T-tae-hyun!”
The man hums gripping your love handles harder, “Do you like how my thighs feel? Are you going to cum just by my thighs alone, sweetheart?” You try to nod but the quick movements mixed with your building up orgasm makes it hard to think. “Use your words, love.”
You’re gasping to do so, the friction in between your legs were overstimulating as it is. Once you feel his thumb snaking down to your clit it’s over for you. “F-feels good, fuck!” You cum on his black slacks, falling onto Taehyun’s shoulder. Exhausted but reality hits when you feel the man shifting under you. Leaving small pecks against his neck while reaching down to palm his aching dick. You note that way he whines and tilts his head at your lips on the sensitive part of his neck. “Let me help you please.”
Taehyun chuckles, “well since you asked so nicely.”
Both of you struggle to lower the man’s pants resulting in his dick slapping against his abdomen. You stop for a moment, eyes glued to his veiny thick cock waiting patiently for your attention. Your dainty surgeon hands cautiously wrap around him feeling every bump and ridge to have Tae jerk his hips up. “Taehyun, or should I say Bone Daddy,” the man hums in response, concentrating so hard not to release by your little movements, “where are your condoms?”
“T-there in the ah-” like butter, he melts into your hands, “in the nightstand.”
Multitasking with one hand tending to the man’s dick and the other reaching for a condom out of the drawer. You grin while tearing the condom packet open. You’re amazed at how his aura changed, he can’t be like this with other girls. How can the man in front of you, no more than a needy boytoy, be the one to make those visitors scream so loudly you had to purposely walk in on them to tell them to keep it down. “So Bone Daddy, do you always crumble for pretty girls like me?” You lean in towards his ear, biting the lobe gently noticing the faint shiver of sensitivity while rolling the condom on. Taehyun’s hands quickly get a hold of your hips as you lift them thinking you’re moving away. You chuckle, as a hand lines his cock to your cunt while the other lovingly rubs the nape of Tae’s neck. You sink down slowly, easing into the pain of the stretch he gives you. A grunt of Tae’s contemptment paired with a snap of his impatient hips upwards. Legs working overtime to match his pace, Taehyun finally has the power to admit, “Something about a pretty surgeon riding my cock while giving my neck kisses just does it for me.”
A smile forms on your face, taking what he said as a sign to leave more pecks on the column of his neck. Your lips push down to where his carotid artery is, feeling the harsh pulse, and fast rate. His hips snap up right to your g-spot as you do this, resulting in your attention to his neck to falter, moaning out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head consumed by his tip kissing your cervix. Tae’s hands grope the flesh of your ass as another snakes up to play with your nipple. A cute grin displayed on the man’s face once again making you scream under his touch. The stutter of his hips signals you to bounce faster reaching both of your highs. 
Both of you panting, hooked to one another, feeling each other's heart beats. “Do you still feel like you’re missing out, Bone Daddy?”
“Mmm I think I need to hear you again, sweetheart.”
A nuisance,
TxT's Devil 🩺
taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman
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honeyhotteoks · 3 days ago
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across stardust - two (j.yh); section one
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summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. one | two (*section one); (section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board
note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys.
tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy
pairings: yunho x reader
genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au
word count: 28.1k
**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!
The tour ends in Paris of all places. After weeks of concealing your growing relationship with Yunho from everyone, it feels like the universe is rubbing salt in the wound bringing you to the so-called city of love. 
For weeks as you hopped city to city, a whirlwind of language and culture and food, you found yourself living for the quiet, stolen moments with him. Quick visits to each other’s hotel rooms and even faster kisses, but never a full night. He hugged you briefly in Amsterdam, left a single rose on your station in Rome, bought you a cashmere scarf in London when the weather took a turn. You catalog these moments in your memory, and scribble down musings in your travel journal, and try not to judge yourself for saving every little scrap of your secret relationship down to the gift receipt in the bottom of the bag and one of the rose petals (pressed dry between the pages of your latest read). 
Paris feels different though. Everywhere you look there are couples snuggled close in the winter chill, and though you aren’t necessarily one for public displays of affection, seeing it like this makes your heart ache. You’d at least like the option. But despite his little gifts, you and Yunho have been doing your best to be subtle, mitigating even the smallest glances, and getting to know him over text. It wasn’t enough, but you could cope, until now. Until this city. You weren’t supposed to walk through a city this romantic alone, not when your soulmate was a few blocks away in a hotel room. You were supposed to be with him.
He feels your ache though, and you feel his. 
Besides, it’s almost, almost over. 
In Paris, you all have an extra two days to account for the end of the tour and flights home, and the electric energy of being almost finished and almost home has everyone buzzing. The members are jittery with anticipation but so is the staff, so close to being back home and in the arms of their loved ones and with a belly full of Korean food. 
On the last show, after soundcheck runs perfectly smoothly and the pre-show rituals have all been checked off without a hitch, it goes to shit. Venue delays, an issue outside getting the fans inside, leaving the stadium only half full at the call time. 
It’s not the first time this has happened of course, but it is the first time for this tour and to have it happen on the last day leaves everyone groaning. 
“They couldn’t tell us this twenty minutes ago?” Hongjoong asks one of your production team.
They had been moments away from starting the introduction lights and music, the boys had already gotten up onto their rising platforms when a member of the venue staff had jogged all the way backstage waving her arms and trying to explain in a mix of French and English that they had to wait. 
“They said thirty minutes,” The staff member replies, “we won’t have to make any cuts, but anything over an hour we’ll need to start,” 
“Fuck,” Hongjoong’s jaw tightens, “Sorry, I apologize,” 
The boys are gathered tightly around management and the production staff and you, Iseul, and the other members of makeup and hair step forwards to listen in. 
You can’t quite catch all of the conversation, but then there’s some nodding in the center circle and Sunhee, the head of tour production, turns and addresses everyone as they shuffle into a semi-circle around him, “Alright, we’re running on a thirty delay,” 
Everyone nods.
 “If we hit 60, we’re electing to cut Deja Vu, Silver Light, DLWB, and Eternal Sunshine,” He explains, “We’ll shift Wave into the 8th block behind Dreamy Day, yes?” 
Everyone nods again. 
“That’s a setup we’re already prepared for, correct?” He addresses the sound team who nods, and then looks to every other team who follows suit before he continues, “If we need to cut more, we need to be prepared for a lot of small changes. It’s possible we lose Win and Fireworks, and that’s not something we want to do. Everyone needs to be on strict standby until we get rolling, I don’t want to be looking for anyone in the bathroom or finding out someone stepped out for a smoke, clear?” 
There’s a chorus of responses. 
“If you need a break, do it in the next five. Every ten until lights, we’re right here.” He’s a clear, no nonsense leader, but everyone has their marching orders. 
The group breaks up after that, several staff hurrying off to the bathrooms now and a couple of the BB Trippin dancers slipping out the back access door for a cigarette. 
The members are talking amongst themselves in a tighter circle, planning choreography changes and ment changes to tighten up the time, and you try your best to not look at Yunho for more than a passing glance. His back is to you, and you ache to reach out and see how he’s doing, ease the bubble of stress you feel in your gut, but you can’t. 
Iseul bumps you gently with her hip and nods her head back towards your stations. Dahan and Eunji are back, thankfully, having gotten over Covid fairly quickly and started testing negative, and the four of you huddle up to do your own planning session. 
“This doesn’t change much for us except how fast we work,” Iseul says, “we can make some strategic cuts around the unit stages too, no added eye enhancements, keep the focus on skin, lips, and brows.” 
“Done,” Dahan nods and then settles back into the chair at her station, “I don’t think there’s much more we can do,” 
Iseul nods, “It’s not a makeup heavy set,” 
Eunji collapses into her own chair and pops open an energy drink, “That just means their foundation has to look better,” 
“They look good,” You assure her, “and lord knows we use enough setting spray,” 
Eunji laughs and takes a swig of her drink, her carefully manicured nails clicking against the aluminum can as drops it back down on the table, “Hmm,” her leg bounces nervously, “we should check them again,” 
“They’re fine,” Iseul says, “plus, wardrobe has them.” 
You look back up, and sure enough the wardrobe team is fluttering around them as they talk, taking every opportunity to re-steam a jacket or fix a pant hemline. 
You lean back against the long table of snacks and water bottles along the one white wall and watch the chaos, your fingers drumming restlessly along the lip of the table. 
“Hey!” One of the wardrobe staff leaps forwards and you look up, “Don’t sit on the couch, I’ll just have to press those pants again!”
Wooyoung leaps up from the couch and groans, “Sorry, sorry,” 
“Let me check you,” She inspects his pants with a sharp gaze, “these crease too easily,” 
Wooyoung cracks a joke you don’t hear, but everyone within earshot is laughing and you smile at the scene. You’ve all worked together for so long it really does feel a bit like family. 
Staff starts to gather back up, and Sunhee makes another clear announcement, “Still running on a thirty,” 
Everyone echoes back their understanding. 
Now there’s nothing to do but wait. Chewing the inside of your lip you fish your phone out of your brush belt pocket and idly scroll, flicking through photo after photo on Instagram and barely absorbing any of it. 
A body shifts in your periphery and you look up to see Yunho, leaning on the table next to you but leaving an appropriate amount of space between your bodies. His head is angled away from you, talking animatedly to San about something, and though you know he’s ignoring you on purpose you also know he sat here for a reason. 
Your chest warms, and so does his. 
Feeling him this close feels like you’re standing in a rising tide, the sensation of him filling the space around you so wholly and completely, and you know if you were to just surrender to it would carry you right out to sea. 
San’s eyes flick to yours, “What about you?” 
You blink, “Hmm?” You might have been looking in their direction but not a single word made it into your brain. 
San’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, “That dance challenge with Bada, have you seen it?” 
“Oh,” You nod, realizing what trend they’re talking about on Tiktok, “yeah, for sure, it’s everywhere right now,” 
“I’m trying to get Yunho to do it with me,” He explains, “it’s cool right? I think we’d kill it,” 
Yunho swivels his head to look in your direction and your stomach flips and you fight to keep your face somewhat professional and neutral when you nod, “It’s definitely cool, a lot of idols are doing it, you should,” 
“Well,” He smiles, his expression warm, “I guess I’ll have to,” 
San snorts softly, and you wonder briefly if he involved you in the conversation because he knew Yunho would cave if you said something. 
The moment is short though, when Wooyoung cuts between San and Yunho, “Budge over I need a water,” 
Yunho slides to the side just a few inches, but it’s enough to feel the heat of his body from shoulder to thigh as he gets closer to you and your breath quickens. Even after a few weeks, his proximity still makes you feel a dizzy kind of elation and you swallow tightly to keep your own reactions under wraps. 
“You good?” Yunho’s focused on Wooyoung’s serious expression though. 
“My calf keeps cramping,” He complains, uncapping a water bottle and locating a packet of electrolytes to pour into it. 
“You need to stretch,” San says, “drink that and come here,” 
Wooyoung grumbles something and Yunho chuckles. 
“Yeah, yeah,” San rolls his eyes, “don’t complain when you know I’m right,” 
“Fine,” Wooyoung downs the water bottle, drinking half of it in three thirsty gulps and then spins on his heel to follow San to the far wall that’s empty. 
For a moment, Yunho doesn’t move. 
You stay frozen in place, unsure of exactly what to do, if you should move or if you should let him move, but he makes the decision for you. 
The back of his knuckles brush along yours for just a moment, and then he’s up again and walking towards his members. Your heart flutters, and you’re sure he can feel it with the way he looks at you, just one quick glance back before he starts stretching again with Wooyoung and San. 
You’ll have to add that one to your notes then, he brushed your hand in Paris. 
Blissfully, they announce again that the delay is only going to be thirty minutes. No cuts to the show, no panic. In ten minutes everything will start and you’ll be one step closer to home.
In the wings at the new call time, you prep them again with a final pat of powder, smoothing out any whisper of a pore. When they move past you, Yunho’s hand brushes yours again, and you wonder if he knows he’s doing it. It feels unconscious the way he gravitates towards you, and though he keeps the contact decidedly subtle, you can feel the way his nervousness eases with just a touch of your skin on his. 
You watch him as he jogs out to the stage risers, you can’t quite tear your eyes away. He’s so handsome, so commanding of the stage, so unlike the soft, gentle man you’ve come to know off screen. You’re starting to really love them both, or perhaps you already do, and quietly you send him as much warmth and confidence through the link as you can. 
His eyes flick over to the wings, a flash of a smile on his lips, but then he refocuses and adjusts his in-ears, and the risers lift into the roar of the crowd once again. 
Your eyes track him as he goes up, and sensation bursts through the link from his side, only this time it doesn’t take you down to your knees. You’ve gotten used to it the past few shows, and now it just rings in your body like background noise. 
A hand closes around your forearm and pulls, yanking you out of your dazed thoughts, and you whirl to catch Iseul’s serious expression.
“Come with me,” She murmurs lowly, “right now.” 
Your stomach twists but you keep the panic to a minimum, you can’t do this to him again. Following her to the backstage door, she grabs her coat and tugs it on and throws you yours. She tugs you outside before you can even properly get your arms through the sleeves and you yank your arm back, “What’s going on?” 
“You’re asking me?” She says quietly even though the stage door is shut tight and there’s no one in sight, “Are you kidding?” 
She shoves a hand into her pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes, ones that she usually only smokes after a few drinks, “I started to think in Amsterdam that it was one of them,” 
Your stomach sinks like a stone. 
She sparks the lighter and leans in to light the smoke, “You were watching them differently,” 
“Iseul,” 
“But, I guess it’s Yunho, isn’t it?” She takes a drag and levels you with a serious expression. 
“Please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, she’s your best friend, but the fear of the unknown still crushes your chest, “don’t,” 
“He watches you too,” She says, “I wasn’t sure at first, he’s always been friendly with us, but this is different,” 
“I don’t know what to say,” You manage. 
“How about you don’t lie to your best friend,” She takes another drag, “that would be a good start,” 
“It’s not what you think,” You step closer. 
“I don’t think you know what I think,” 
“Iseul,” You wrap your arms around yourself. 
“Fine,” She tips the ash off the end of the cigarette and pushes her pin straight hair back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell you what I think,” 
You stay silent, stomach tight. 
“You’ve been weird,” She says, “I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy, and I really doubt you just noticed him for the first time, so either you’re an excellent liar or you’re in love with him,” 
You blanch. 
“And if you’re in love with him,” She points out, “so suddenly after years, then there’s more to it. So I started paying attention,” 
She takes a long drag of her cigarette and sighs out the smoke. 
“You’ve been sneaking off,” She points out, “checking your phone constantly,” 
Your eyes flick down to the pavement. 
“But the weirdest part,” She says, “is that you’ve been changing in the bathroom and we’ve been friends for years. I’ve seen your tits like a hundred times,” 
Your head snaps up. 
“You’ve been too happy lately for it to be something bad,” She says, her voice softening a bit, “so it’s something good, something like your mark changing.” 
”Iseul,” Your voice comes out weakly. 
“Fuck,” She looks over your expression, “he’s your soulmate,” 
“We didn’t know,” You stumble through the words, “I swear, we didn’t,” 
“I believe you,” She nods, “I just want to know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m your best friend, I would have helped you, I wouldn’t… I would never tell anyone,” 
“I know,” You reach for her, “I know you wouldn’t do that.” 
“Then why?” She pulls her wrist from your touch and ashes her cigarette again, “Because it really hurts that you couldn’t trust me with this.” 
“It’s not that,” You press, and it pours out of you, “we don’t even know what we’re doing. It’s really overwhelming, everything I’m feeling and he’s feeling, and then there’s the contracts and the job and the fucking public, and I just… I don’t know what to do, we don’t know what to do. We decided to wait until we got back to Korea to figure it out properly,” 
She nods. 
“I was going to tell you as soon as I got the nerve up,” You promise, “I haven’t even called Hana,” 
Her eyes widen at the confession that you haven’t told your sister after weeks, “Babe,” 
“If you know,” You manage, “and she knows, then it’s happening, and I,” 
Iseul flicks her cigarette to the curb and throws her arms around you, tugging you close for a hug, “Oh, you nervous idiot,” 
“I promise,” You hug her back, “I was going to tell you,” 
“Don’t you want it to be real?” She murmurs the question, “It’s your soulmate,” 
“I do,” You nod, “I want him, it’s just,” 
She rubs your back as you sigh.
”It could be easier,” You finally admit, “if he wasn’t who he is, then it would be simple.” 
She nods and pulls back from the hug, giving you a final squeeze, “Simple’s for fairytales,” 
“I guess,” 
“We’ll work it out,” She nods, “I’ll help.”
“I should have told you weeks ago,” You confess. 
“Probably,” She nods, “I would have helped cover for you at least,” 
You smile, “Yeah?” 
“Totally,” She nods. 
You sigh into the cold air, your breath making a cloud of vapor. 
She pushes her hands into her coat pockets and then stops, “Who else knows?” 
“San, he saw it when we touched,” You tell her and her eyes widen, “and Seonghwa… he found us in bed that morning in Berlin,” 
“I’ll be mad about them knowing before me later,” Her nose crinkles, “but that’s good, let’s keep the circle small for now.” 
“Definitely,” You nod, “we want to tell people, but just not… it’s better at home,” 
She chews the inside of her lip, sighing and pulling out another cigarette, “You haven’t slept together?” 
“Not yet,” 
As she lights the second cigarette her eyebrow quirks up, “So you’re just tormenting yourselves for fun, or?” 
Iseul was, without a doubt, the biggest believer in soulmates you’ve ever met. Everyone in her family was lucky enough to have found their match young, from her parents to her siblings, but she’s been waiting. Out of anyone without a soulmate though, she knew exactly how difficult the time between initial touch and fulfillment of the bond was. 
“We nearly did,” 
“And?” She takes a drag.
“He wanted to do it right,” You explain, your cheeks heating.
She nods, “He seems like that type,” 
Your gut tightens and you exhale, “I was also a little terrified,” 
“You and relationships,” 
“This is different,” You cross your arms.
 Iseul smirks at your sudden defensiveness, “I know it is,” she says, “but it’s still freaking you out, obviously,” 
“It was,” You admit, “maybe it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.” The logistics have you stressed beyond belief, but him? Those fears have been fading fast since that first night.
 “So, you do love him,” She smiles, flicking away her half smoked cigarette.
All you can do is nod. 
Iseul softens at that, after so many years of friendship and watching each other try relationships on for size. Every almost match that withered into nothing, every missed connection, every late night wondering. 
“I’m happy for you both,” She says earnestly, reaching for the door and clearing her throat to shove away the emotion there, “but I swear if you lie to me again,” 
You laugh, “Got it.” 
She punches in the key code to the door and twists the handle when it goes green, but then she stops short, “Listen, we’ll talk about the rest later, but you’ve got to tone it down with him in there. No more longing looks, no more little touches, if I saw you someone else will too.” 
Your stomach twists, “Fuck,” 
“It’s fine,” She says, “I was looking for it, but eventually someone’s going to notice.” 
“Okay, you’re right” You nod. 
“Let’s get back in there,” She pulls the door back open and you stumble inside. 
Everyone is gathering up again for the first costume change, and you do your best to shake off the conversation. Iseul squeezes your shoulder once, and then slips back to her station like nothing ever happened. 
You don’t look at him again the rest of the show. 
Iseul’s warning lives in your mind and you try to keep some distance. You give him the same polite congratulations on the tour that you give to every member, ignoring the little crease between his brows when he realizes you’re being funny. 
At the team dinner, you keep to the far side of the table and keep the soju to a minimum. 
You ignore the buzzing phone in your pocket and his quick glances. 
Iseul keeps you busy, keeps you steady.
You don’t let yourself look at the text messages on your phone until you’re back in your hotel room and able to finally relax. A string of texts from him make your heart twist. 
everything alright?
you seem tense, did something happen during the show?
alright now i know you’re avoiding me….. jagi, what did i do? tell me so i can fix whatever it is
you look so beautiful tonight, i wish i was across the table from you. i wish we didn’t have to hide this. i wish you’d tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better. 
let me know you get to your room safely. 
“You good?” Iseul asks as she flops back on her bed, “You look freaked,” 
“Yunho,” You pass her the phone so she can see for herself. 
She skims the messages quietly, one eyebrow raising, “Girl,” she looks up at you, “I said be subtle, not emotionally terrify your new boyfriend,” 
Your cheeks heat, “He’s not my boyfriend,” 
“Yeah he is,” Iseul rolls her eyes and tosses your phone back, “and the sooner you accept that this is good for you, the sooner you can get a handle on this with him and actually make a plan,” 
Chewing the inside of your lip you sink down onto the edge of your own bed, “I keep fucking this up,” 
She shakes her head, “You’re fine, but you’re also wound so tight some strings are bound to break. Call him,” 
“He’s probably so pissed at me,” You breathe.
 “He’s probably worried,” She counters, “but babe, he’s not any of your shitty exes. At some point you have to stop being scared that every guy is going to break your heart, especially this one.” 
“Ouch,” You grimace at her words. 
“Am I wrong?” 
You sigh heavily and run a hand through your hair, of course she wasn’t wrong. Iseul had watched you couple up time and time again only for it to be another failed attempt at not being alone. That combined with your only significant relationship being littered with gaslighting, cheating, and a truly terrible sex life meant she wouldn’t let you settle, or let a good thing pass you by just because of your anxiety and less than stellar history with the opposite sex. 
“Call him,” She interrupts your thoughts again. 
You swallow tightly, but at her unwavering gaze you finally look down and press the call button next to his contact picture, pressing the phone to your ear, your fingers drumming nervously on your knee. 
Yunho picks up on the second ring, “Baby?” 
He doesn’t sound mad at all, all you hear is relief in his voice and your shoulders drop, “Hey,” 
“Are you okay? What’s going on?” You hear the rustle of sheets on his side as he sits up. 
“Nothing,” You let out the air trapped in your chest, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” 
He’s quiet for a second, but then he speaks up, “I can feel your stress, y/n,” 
You wonder how heavily it’s pouring out of you for him to feel it so clearly through the link. 
He takes a slow breath and then continues, “If it’s something I did, I’d like to know so we can talk about it. If it’s something else, I’m here,” 
There’s a brush of warmth against your mark, and all your tension starts to melt, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yunho, I promise.”
“Okay,” He murmurs, letting you know he’s listening, waiting for more. 
You look up and meet Iseul’s gaze. She nods at you, waving her hand towards you in a ‘get on with it’ motion, silently pushing you through this. 
“Iseul knows about us,” You tell him in a nervous exhale, “she noticed we were being familiar, that there was something going on,” 
Sheets rustle again and Yunho clears his throat, “Oh,” he says, “I mean, you’re friends aren’t you? Is she upset?”
You open your mouth to say more, but Iseul groans and pushes herself off the bed, snatching the phone from your ear and taking over the call. You jump up to grab it back, but she holds you back with one arm outstretched and a growing smile on her face.
 “Yunho?” She says, “It’s Iseul,” 
You hear a short response from Yunho, but you can’t make out the individual words he says.
 “Of course I’m not upset,” Iseul says, “I’m honestly really, really happy for you both, even if I had to figure it out myself,” 
You watch as Iseul listens to his reply and she laughs sharply. 
“Yeah, you two giving each other puppy eyes for the last few weeks was not subtle, no,”
Another beat, and you nudge her side, whispering, “Iseul,” 
“No, no,” She shakes her head and steps away from you to keep talking to him, “I told y/n this, but I was looking for it. She was acting weird so I knew something was up, but I just wanted you both to be careful in front of everyone,” 
Yunho says something you can’t hear and Iseul nods to herself.
”She’s okay,” Iseul looks back to you, a soft expression in her eyes now, “you’ll learn this, but she’s a little skittish.” 
“Iseul!” 
She rolls her eyes at you, but listens to him and nods again, “Listen,” she finally says, “I’m going to give the phone back to your girl, but before I do I just want to remind you that she’s my best friend. I think you’re a good guy, Yunho, but if you so much as make her cry, I’ll kill you. Clear?” 
His reply is short and she laughs.
 “Good,” Iseul grins, “she deserves someone good, and I know you can be that person for her.”
You reach out your hand for the phone again, needing to talk to him and pull your best friend back from whatever emotional speech she might let loose next. 
“I’m glad,” Iseul says, “now let me put y/n back on, I think she’s about to have an aneurism.” 
You can hear Yunho’s laugh as she passes back the phone and you take it eagerly, “Hi, god, I’m so sorry about that,” 
Iseul laughs and walks towards the bathroom to wind down and do her skincare and give you a brief moment of privacy, and you spin and walk towards the far end of the room near the window. 
“It’s fine,” Yunho sounds warm and not at all upset, “I’m glad you have a friend like her,” 
“Still,” You curl up into the armchair, “I didn’t mean to act so weird today or to corner you like this after such a long show,” 
“Don’t apologize,” He soothes you, “I know this is a lot, and Iseul’s right, we need to be careful if we want to do this the right way,” 
“Yeah,” You sigh, “still, I could have texted you and told you. I just got nervous,” 
“I know,” He murmurs, “but in the future, you don’t have to be alone in that. I’m your guy.” 
A smile tugs at your lips, “You are?” 
“Mhm,” He says softly, “you don’t have to handle anything alone anymore, jagi.”
Tightness sinks into your throat and you nod, pushing back the telltale sign of tears, “I’d like that,” 
“Good,” He murmurs, “now are you up for doing me a favor?” 
“A favor?” Your brow furrows, “What’s wrong?” 
“Not wrong,” He sounds so relaxed, so comfortable, and it puts you at ease, “but get your coat and map yourself to the location I’m sending you,” 
“What?” You laugh, feeling your phone buzz as his text comes through. 
“We’ll keep our distance,” He assures you, “but sweetheart, it’s snowing, and I am not missing the first snow with my soulmate in Paris,” he emphasizes, “so bundle up and get out here.” 
You pull the curtain to the side, and sure enough there’s snow swirling in the air, falling in soft fluffy flakes.
“Oh, wow,” You breathe, taking in how a white blanket has already started to thicken up on the streets outside. 
“Call me back when you get there,” He says, “okay?” 
“Yeah,” You smile, soft warmth spreading through your body, “I’m on my way,” 
You’re a whirlwind as you tug your coat back on, lacing up your boots and searching your bag for a pair of gloves. Iseul gives you one look when she sees you getting ready, but she smiles, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” 
“I won’t be long, I’m sure,” 
She shrugs, “Be safe,” 
“I will,” 
She searches for something on the side table and tosses it to you, a small black piece of fabric, “Mask, don’t forget,” 
“Got it,” You nod, affixing the mask to your face. The likelihood of you being photographed in Paris during a snowstorm when you weren’t even going to be next to Yunho was close to zero, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it. 
“Go get your man,” She arches her brow suggestively and you groan, rolling your eyes and darting out of the hotel room before she can embarrass you anymore. 
As quickly as you can, you map yourself to the pinned spot he sent and start walking. It’s hard to tell from the map, but as you get closer to the spot a few streets up from your hotel on the far side of the Seine you realize this is all it is, a street corner by the edge of the bridge. 
There’s barely anyone around, especially with the weather, and you can’t see Yunho anywhere. 
Tucking your coat closed around you, you find your phone and follow Yunho’s instructions. 
He picks up your call immediately, “You there?” he asks, his voice sounding a little muffled. 
“Yeah,” You breathe, looking around to see if you can spot him now, “Are you coming?” 
“I’m already here,” He says, “look up, across the river under the light by the steps,”
You step close to the stone railing at the edge of the river, and sure enough under the street lamp directly opposite your corner, Yunho stands unmistakably tall under the light. You can’t make out the details of him from this far away, the river is wide enough that he could be just about anyone at this distance, but then the figure waves. 
You can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice when he says, “Hi, baby,” 
“Hey,” You relax into the railing, your stomach flipping pleasantly. You’re still not used to the way he’s tender with you, his pet names and how easily he sunk into being soulmates, but you trust him. It doesn’t matter how fast or how hard you’re falling, despite those fluttering nerves, you know he’s going to catch you, you feel it. 
He hums pleasantly through the phone and you imagine him smiling, “Take a walk with me?” he asks brightly.
“Love to,” You murmur. 
“I have a surprise for you,” He says, “it’s just around the bend of the river,” 
“How did you have time to do anything? We just got to Paris last night,” The figure across the river starts to walk and so you follow, slowly making your way up the length of the river by the stone railing. 
“Don’t get too excited,” He laughs softly, “I didn’t do anything,” 
“Mhm,” The air is crisp and sharp, and you take in a deep breath, “I love snow,” 
“Me too,” 
“People always say I’m crazy, but I prefer winter over summer,” 
“I do too,” He says, and you can almost picture him smiling, “I hate the heat,” 
There’s a natural lull, a gentle pause in conversation, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You feel his presence with you as if he were walking right at your side, and it keeps you warmer than any scarf or padded coat. 
Finally, Yunho breaks the companionable silence, “I always try to take a long walk in a new city,” 
“Late night, like this?” You ask.
“It’s usually the only time I have,” He sighs, “I’m getting used to exploring places by street lamp,” 
“I’d like to actually explore here during the day,” You say, “I’ve always wanted to come here,” 
“Where else have you always wanted to go?” 
You step around a couple nestled close together near the wall and continue on, boots crunching on the layer of snow ahead of you, “Everywhere,” you admit, “but I don’t know, there’s more of America to see, and I’ve never been to Australia. Vietnam maybe, or, oh, Iceland, I’d like to see the northern lights.” 
“I’d love to take you there someday,” 
“Take another long walk in the snow,” You offer, glancing across the river. It takes you a moment to find him as you both pass through a busier spot, but you see him pass under another street lamp and your heart is back at ease. 
“y/n,” Yunho says after a beat, “are you sure you’re alright with Iseul knowing about us?” 
You swap your phone to your opposite hand, tucking your frozen fingers into your pocket and nod even though he can’t really see that from this far away, “I am, she’s my best friend, I should have just told her.” 
“I don’t think either one of us knows what we’re doing,” He reminds you, “and that’s okay.” 
“Mm,” You sigh, a heavy cloud of vapor blooming in the icy air, “I do know one thing,” 
“What’s that?” 
Your stomach flutters nervously, but you press on, “I haven’t felt this happy or this cared for in a long time,” 
He’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear his breath, “I feel the same way,” 
“I just want to be on the plane now,” You admit, “at least then we’d be almost home,” 
“Well,” He says, “don’t wish for it too soon,” 
“What do you,” You start to say but he swiftly cuts back in. 
“Look to your left, sweetheart,” He says warmly.
Your head snaps up, and you turn only to have the breath knocked out of you by this city yet again. There, across the river and beyond a large bridge in the distance is the Eiffel Tower, standing golden against the night sky. 
“Oh,” You breathe. 
“Wait for it,” He murmurs.
“What did you do?” You can’t stop yourself from grinning like a fool, but you expect that’s a common experience for tourists in love in this city. 
“I didn’t do anything,” He laughs, “I just got the timing right, just wait,” 
You step closer to the wide bridge, ornate with golden statues and arched to offer ferry boats passage underneath. All the while you keep your eyes locked to the tower, and blink away the dust of snow collecting on your eyelashes. 
“Yunho,” 
“Just,” He starts to say, his voice getting far away as if he moved the phone, “another minute,” 
You tuck your scarf up around your face and wait, and then it starts to glitter. Blocks away but still standing tall before you in the distance, the golden monument starts to sparkle with the fast flicker of silvery lights.
“Oh,” You breathe, “I didn’t think I’d see it,” 
“Mhm,” He murmurs, “you might have mentioned it in London,” 
“Did I?” You can’t tear your eyes away. 
“I’m sorry I can’t take you there properly,” He confesses, “or anywhere properly yet, but, someday I will,” 
The glittering stops and you finally look away to try and find him again across the bridge, only he’s closer now and walking directly along your side of the bridge towards you. Your feet are moving before you can convince yourself otherwise, a magnetic pull straight to him. 
The bridge is thankfully quiet, barely anyone on either side, and you both stop in the middle, both of your phones tucked into your respective pockets. 
“Hi,” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles beneath his mask. 
“Hey,” You sigh, “should we be doing this?” 
“No one’s here,” He says, stepping closer, “just one minute,” 
You nod, “One minute,” 
“Listen,” He says, his hand brushing against yours again, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too,” 
Your heartbeat quickens.
“But we are almost home,” He says, “and once we’re there, we will make a plan. We will make this work, and I promise you, I’m more afraid of losing you than of losing all this,” he gestures towards the city around you. 
“There’s got to be a way, other people who have done this,” You nod. 
“We’ll find out,” He assures you, “just please, don’t pull away from me when things get hard or if you’re afraid. You can rely on me, you can trust me, I swear to you, y/n.” 
You can feel the nervous knot in his chest, and you step close, resting a hand where you know his soulmark loops on his chest. When you let yourself feel him, focus on him, it’s clear to you just how anxious about your growing relationship he’s been. Soulmates or not you still have to walk the path together, and of the two of you, you’ve been less clear. His gestures, his gifts, the way he’s tried his best over the past few weeks to show you his true feelings and intentions, but you haven’t given him enough back to soothe that knot in his chest. 
“Baby,” The endearment slips out and you feel him soften under your touch, “I’m here, I’m with you. I’m so fucking terrified, but not of you or of this.” 
Snow sticks to his lashes, swirls in the air around you, but his exhale of ragged breath isn’t the cold, it’s relief. 
“I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up somehow, of what will happen when people find out,” You confess, “and I’m so scared you’ll wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth the mess,” 
“y/n,” He shakes his head, reaching for your cheek. 
“I know, I know,” You catch his hand against your face, press a fast kiss to his palm through the fabric of your mask, “it’s just a fear, I just want you to understand where my head has been,” 
He nods, a little crease between his brows. 
“But I do trust you,” You tell him, “more than anyone, and I’ve been alone a long time, so I’m learning how to let myself rely on you, but I’ve never doubted you. Not before and definitely not now,” 
“Come here,” He tucks your bodies together and tugs his mask down, “kiss me,” 
You pull yours away, and you press up on your tiptoes to meet his eager mouth.
His nose is cold, and his fingers are icy against your cheek, but his lips are warm and soft and his broad body blocks the gust of wind and snow. 
The knot of anxiety in his chest starts to ease, and you brush your fingers over his mark to seal your own promise back to him. 
“Sweetheart, I,” He sighs, kissing you once more, letting his words fade on his tongue, “thank you.” 
“I’m sorry I haven’t said it like that before,” You say, “but I’m here,” 
He nods, a soft smile on his mouth, and he leans over to kiss you once more in the snowy Paris street, the golden glow of the Eiffel tower still in your periphery. 
When he pulls back, he rights his mask and you follow his lead, “It’s cold, let’s get back inside,” he says. 
You can barely feel it, but you nod, “Okay,” 
“Call me again,” He squeezes your hand once and then lets it drop, “I’ll walk you back,” 
You smile, finding your phone and dialing him. 
Yunho pulls his phone out, and starts to walk back across the bridge, but then he picks up, “Hello?” 
“Hey, again,” You walk backwards slowly, watching him as he tucks the phone closer to his ear. 
“Hi,” He says warmly, and then he turns to catch sight of you when he says, “I just met the prettiest girl in Paris,” 
Butterflies roll through you, “Oh, yeah?” 
“Mhm,” He murmurs, “I think I’m falling for her,” 
Easy warmth spreads through your chest despite the chill, “That’s so funny,” you tell him as you turn to round the corner of the bridge again, “I just met this guy,” 
He laughs, and slowly you make your way back to the hotel. The conversation comes more easily now, the lingering threads of any tension dissipating with the wind. You talk about everything and nothing, how to tell the members and what you’re planning to have for coffee in the morning, and by the time you’re at the hotel the snow has slowed to a stop and the streets are empty except for you both, two long-distance lovers across the Seine. 
───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────
The final day in Paris passes by in a blur just like the plane home. It’s always like this after a tour, the absolute exhaustion after weeks of adrenaline and travel, but this time all you want is to be home and it feels like you’re doing the epitome of just going through the motions to get there. 
Yunho had texted you to sleep well on the flight, and you did, only to be shaken awake hours and hours later by Iseul when you were preparing to land. You had only woken up for one of the flight meals and a quick bathroom break, but now as you descend into Incheon you’re itching to get out of the seat more than you normally would be.
 Home. 
You can see it out the window, but you can feel it too.
Up until this moment, everything with you and Yunho had been on a delay, the reality of what you were to each other only something to fully reckon with after the tour, and now here you were. 
Your fingers start to nervously drum against your knee as you prepare for landing, your heart picking up as you touch down, your leg bouncing in anticipation while the plane takes its time taxing to the gate. 
Iseul gives your hand a squeeze when you finally make it off the plane and into the interior of the airport, only this time it’s not to calm your nerves, it's to remind you that you have a role to play. Today the crowd is thick, rows and rows of screaming, clawing girls and you feel your heart rate pick up immediately. They’re not here for you, they could honestly care less about you, but you still have to make your way through them as quickly and painlessly as possible. 
The support staff is always split, half in front of the boys and half behind, an extra layer of bodies between them and the hands that so badly want to touch them. Girls that want their one moment, a quick press of skin on skin, seeking a confirmation of the bond they’re so convinced exists between them and their bias. It’s never bothered you before, just a hazard of being famous, but now you can’t help but feel like they know. One look at you and they can see right through all the careful lies, they can see your tattoo and his, a string knotted from your ribs to his, and you think they might kill you for it. It wouldn’t be the first time a deranged fan took things too far, and your stomach churns with every step as you leave the relative safety of the main gate. 
Getting from the plane to the cars is a well oiled production. You’re used to sticking close to your team and a set of the support staff, head down, hat low, moving swiftly. There’s not much you can do about it unless you happen to be on a different flight, which has happened a time or two while you’ve been working with Ateez but it’s rare. 
For weeks since you first felt the link between you and Yunho, you’ve been able to feel some echo of his emotions through the connection, but as you file off the plane and group up to start working through the crowd, the sensation of him goes quiet. You’ve seen the members as they walk, a crafted persona of friendliness over the full disassociation, but you never expected to feel some shadow of that yourself. Your nerves are swirling, but you take a few slow and steadying breaths, and alongside Iseul and the rest of your coworkers, you start walking. 
It should be quick, it should be painless, but it isn’t. 
Halfway to the doors, a body breaks through the guards to your side, making a desperate beeline for one of the boys behind you, the girl’s face streaked with tears and hands outstretched, her shoulder checking yours hard as she pushes her way through into the interior circle. 
You stumble hard, footing unsure on the slick linoleum, your heart pounding suddenly in your chest. 
You make a tight noise of surprise, hand outstretched to brace your fall as you collapse hard onto your left knee. Bodies bump into you on all sides, stumbling to not knock you over and trample you, but you still struggle to get your feet under you. 
It’s loud in here, the sudden sound of fans and bodyguards, but you feel a spike of alarm shoot through your gut as he comes back online and reacts to your fall. You can’t turn around, but you feel him, and then all at once there’s hands hooking under your arms and you’re stumbling back up to your feet. 
Yunho’s several paces back behind you, layers of bodies away, but despite that he lurches forwards, forgetting himself in the fray. There’s no cameras, no crowd, no thought of familiarity in his mind, only the singular truth that his soulmark is hurt and the need to get to you is all encompassing. A hard hand locks down on his bicep, another on his opposite shoulder. He has half a mind to throw whoever has him off, and then reality clicks back into place.
He watches as Iseul and one of the other managers hauls you back up to your feet while the bodyguards close ranks and remove the cloying girl. 
San, his hand still locked around Yunho’s arm, leans in tight to his ear, “She’s fine, don’t.” 
“You don’t,” Yunho starts to say but Seonghwa claps him on the shoulder again, squeezing him and trying to silently remind him the stakes here. 
“Look,” San urges him as they keep moving, “she’s up, use your head.” 
He focuses, and he watches the way you walk. Iseul is still pinned to your side but you’re not injured, just keeping your head down. He takes a tight breath and focuses on the feeling of the link, searching for your emotions under the bubbling rush of his own. 
Seonghwa’s hand falls away as the group makes it closer to the door, but San stays steady bracing Yunho’s bicep.
Yunho blinks and focuses, and then he feels you. Your own heart is beating fast, a blanket of anxiety mixed with discomfort and blushing embarrassment. There’s no fear though, no pain, and he shudders a sigh in relief. 
This kind of connection with another person is so singular and so maddening. He’s always cared for you, he would have wanted to help even if you weren’t his soulmate, but knowing that you are and feeling it all has him ready to tear the world apart for your smallest needs. He can understand now with perfect clarity why companies are so protective of skin on skin contact with their artists, why there’s no room for exceptions until positions are far more established. A young man with a soulmarked bond would ruin every scrap of his own career if it meant he could touch her, hold her, have her for just a moment. 
“Breathe,” San bids him, “you’re staring,” 
Yunho rips his eyes away from your back and looks to San, “It’s too much,” 
San gives him a wide, idol smile and shakes his head, “Cameras, Yunho,” 
He blinks and refocuses, finding his own photogenic smile and nodding towards the crowd. He waves, he nods, he does all the things a good little idol would do. 
Warmth brushes over his chest, the feeling of your fingers along the loops of your tattoo and the tight fist around his heart loosens, breath finally filling his lungs the right way. Silently, you’ve told him you’re safe, you’re well. He can breathe. 
You’re in separate cars though, and as you climb into the SUV with the rest of the makeup and hair staff, your hands start to shake. 
“You okay?” Iseul finally asks as the doors close. 
“Mm,” You sigh, leaning back into the soft seat, “I hate those crowds,” 
She nods, “Security should have never let that girl get through,” 
“She just pushed me aside,” You rub your tired eyes, “I can’t even believe someone would be that unhinged,” 
“Mhm,” Iseul rolls her eyes, “well, when it’s her one chance to see if her precious Yunho-ya is her star crossed soulmate,” 
A flicker of jealous anger sparks in your gut, “Is that who she was after?”
“Yeah,” A look of disgust passes over her face, “as if fate would actually match up an idol and a saesang, get real.” 
You laugh, and someone else makes a comment about how cruel it would be if that actually happened, but you and Iseul are sharing a private look. Of course none of those girls are his soulmark, not when you’re sitting right here. 
You shiver, you can’t stop thinking about the girl’s tear streaked face as she shoved you to the side. What would a fan like that think about you being her bias’s soulmate? You don’t even want to know. 
The car pulls away, and you feel your phone start to buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and keep it close so no one next to you can see the screen. 
Your body melts at the message. 
Are you hurt, jagiya? 
You tap out a quick reply, needing to not keep him waiting - I’m alright, it just startled me. 
Bubbles pop up immediately as he types - I’ll have a talk with security, there’s no reason for staff to be that close to the fans like that. Too risky. 
You’re in love with him already, it’s impossible not to be when he talks like this. You smile and write back - Don’t, we shouldn’t draw any attention. But it means a lot that you were worried about me. 
Of course I worry - His first message flies in, and then another - I felt you fall, I nearly ran to get to you. 
I’m glad you didn’t. We really can’t give anyone a reason to question things. 
I know. But I wanted to, I never want anything to keep me from you when you need me. 
Jeong Yunho…. - You write back, butterflies in your belly at his words - Are you trying to make me like you?
I thought we covered this, you don’t already like me? - You feel his warmth through the bond and you know he’s teasing. 
You know I do. - If you said more you’d probably reveal how far in this you already are after a few weeks of a bond. 
It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does your cheeks heat - I’ll have to work harder then, to make sure you feel as strongly as I do.
Your mark warms, a punctuated touch of his heart to yours. 
Before you can reply he sends another message - You promise you’re not hurt at all? 
Embarrassed mostly, and my knee hurts a little, but I promise it’s nothing serious, I wouldn’t lie to you. - You reply, touching your mark gently with your fingers to send back the same warmth, the same truth of your words. 
When can I see you? I don’t think I can go days until our next schedule. 
Tonight? You can’t help yourself. 
Where? 
Your stomach flutters at the thought of being alone with him again - My place? I live alone in Seongsu. It’s nothing special, but it’s private and it’s home. 
Text me the address, I’ll find a way over. 
You tap out your address and send it through - Please don’t get in trouble trying to come by.
I won’t - He replies instantly.
  Iseul’s hand gently touches your knee and you look back up at her, “What’s up?” 
“You want a ride home from the office?” She asks, eyes flicking down at your phone briefly. 
“You don’t mind?” You ask. 
She shakes her head, “You’re on the way,” 
You nod, pulling your phone back out to send him a message - Iseul’s driving me home when we get to the office. Are you going to your apartment now?
Yes - He replies - Yeosang keeps yawning, when our managers leave and he goes to bed I’ll come by.
Aren’t you tired too? - You ask him. 
I slept on the plane - He replies, and then another message comes through - If you’re tired you can sleep, I just need to be with you right now.
I slept too - You assure him - I’ll be up. Just message me when you’re close.
I will - He says. 
You send him one last bit of instruction, a little safer if he can let himself into your place just in case anyone sees him coming by - It’s apartment 26B, Door Code is 10824*
He sends a heart in reply, and you tuck your phone back into your lap. 
Soon, you’d finally be alone. After weeks and weeks of waiting, the ache in your chest would finally be soothed.  
Even after Iseul drops you off at home, it takes him hours. By the time you get a message that he’s on his way you’ve nervously cleaned your tiny apartment three times over and ordered far too much take out just to be sure he has something to eat if he hasn’t gotten anything already. 
When you hear him keying your door code in, your heart starts to beat double time. 
He slips in quietly, dressed in a dark gray long coat, black ball cap, and black face mask, and if you didn’t know him just from the cut of his shoulders you could have easily mistaken him for just about anyone in a crowd. 
“Hey,” You feel at ease immediately, and he looks up at the sound of your voice. 
Your apartment amounts to a double wide hallway, your lofted bed above the entryway and bathroom, a small galley kitchenette along one wall, built-in storage and a desk, and then an extremely modest living space. The sight of him in your apartment is strange, he’s so tall he seems to fill up the space of the entryway, a surreal sight now that you’re home and not in random hotel rooms. 
He kicks off his shoes to leave them by the door, and then he steps up into your apartment as he pulls his mask off, crossing the room in three easy strides to get to you. 
“Hey,” He replies, his cold hands cupping your cheeks as he gets close, “there you are,” 
“Here I am,” You smile, stepping closer to him and relaxing into his touch.
 “I,” He shakes his head and his words falter a little, “I know you said you’re fine, I just… it’s nice to see for myself, I couldn’t shake that feeling,” 
You soften at that, “Oh, Yunho, I’m okay,” 
“I know,” He sighs, “I’m sorry it took me so long,” 
“It’s alright,” You slide your hands into his jacket and rest your hands on his chest, “you’re here now,” 
He folds you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you properly and cupping the back of your head with his broad hand, “I’m so glad to be home,” 
Your heart flutters, “The tour felt like years,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest. 
“Mm,” He sighs, his body melting around you, “our managers wanted to talk about the upcoming week, and Hongjoong had schedule changes, and then Yeosang wouldn’t go to bed, he kept sitting in the living room, I thought I was going to scream,” 
”It’s fine,” You smile against his sweater, “do you have a schedule tomorrow, then?” 
“No,” He unfolds himself from around you, pulling his cap free and running a hand through his messy locks, “I’m off, I don’t have anywhere to be.” 
Warmth fills you, “For how many days?” 
“Three,” He grins. 
“Me too,”  
“Any plans?” He drops his hat and mask down onto your side table where your own keys and gloves are and steps close again.
”None,” You murmur, “sleeping,” 
“Want some company?” He wraps his hand around yours. 
“For three days?” Your eyes widen, “There’s no way you can get away for that long,” 
“I worked it out,” He says, “waiting for Yeosang to get tired,” 
“Okay,” You don’t want to let yourself be excited too soon. 
“I’ll have to go back and pick up a few things,” He tells you, “but I told my manager that my brother might be coming up to town to see me after tour,” 
“Okay,” 
”And that I might drive down to Gwangju with him,” He smiles wider, “and that he could drop me back off before schedules pick back up.” 
“Really?” Your hand tightens on his.
”Really,” He nods, “if you want me here, I’m here.” 
For a split second you feel like you could cry, relief washing through you, and you dive forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “Stay, please, stay,” 
He bends to accommodate your height difference, and ends up wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you in the air, “Good,” he sighs, “I hoped you’d say that,” 
“Yunho, thank you,” You pull back enough to find his face, “god, I missed you,” 
“Me too,” He confesses, “seeing you everyday but not really seeing you, I don’t want to do that again,” 
“It’s so much harder than I thought it would be,” 
He nods and gives you a soft smile, “We made it, though,” 
“Yeah,” 
He dips in and presses his lips to yours, and the last threads of tension unravel, everything else forgotten with his body so close to yours. Yunho sighs pleasantly, pressing close lipped, familiar kisses to your lips, before setting you back down on your feet and straightening back up to his full height. 
Your hearts feel like they’re in sync. 
He smiles at you again, and then finally glances around to take in the space around him, “Oh,” he says as he takes it in, “I like your place,” 
“It’s small,” You shrug, “but it works for me,” 
“That view,” He nods towards your floor to ceiling glass window, truly the only selling point of the apartment, “that’s something.” 
You follow his eyes to the glittering city outside and nod, “It really is,” 
It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the view, and then he sighs and looks back to you, “It feels nice to not have to rush away,” 
You nod, “I know,” 
You’re dancing around each other again, now that there’s no deadline hanging over your heads or threat that someone might walk by. You can simply exist. 
“I’ve got takeout,” You offer, making the first move, “if you’re hungry, but if not it’ll keep,” 
He smiles, “In a bit,” 
“Let me take your coat at least,” You stretch out a hand, “get comfortable,” 
He slides it off his shoulders and folds it as he hands it to you, “Thanks,” 
You find a home for his coat in the entryway nestled on a hook next to yours, his shoes already placed neatly side by side with your sneakers. It looks so right, your life against his, and you let your fingers skate down over the back of his coat as you take it in, a smile pulling at your lips. He belongs here, in every way, and for the next three days you’d pretend his presence in your apartment was permanent, solid and immutable in the way it feels in your heart. 
His coat, his shoes, and in a flash you see it all, flickers of a real life together. Toothbrushes, coffee cups, letters in the mail, his keys kissing yours in a dish by the door, books slotted together on the shelf, clothes tangled up in the laundry basket. 
Your chest aches with need, but he just walked into your apartment for the first time, so you shake off those thoughts and turn to him, “What did you have in mind for tonight?” 
“Honestly,” He grins, “being able to talk to you face to face is as far as I let myself get,” 
“Way better than texting,” You smile back, “you want a drink? Beer? Wine?” 
“Sure,” He nods, “Beer?” 
You nod and take the two steps into the kitchenette to locate glasses and two cans of beer, calling over your shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, are you sure you’re not hungry?”
”I’m okay,” You hear him settle onto the couch and it occurs to you that you’ve never had a man in your apartment, at least in the sense of a romantic partner. For years you were going to their places, strangely protective of your own little haven between these four walls, and yet with Yunho you feel comfortable enough already not just to let him inside, but to give him your door code without a thought.  
You blink at the realization, almost letting his glass overflow onto the countertop as you pour. How strange the last few weeks have been, how different you already are. 
“How long have you lived here?” Yunho asks, and you let the thoughts about what it all means fade into the background as you turn towards him. 
“Um,” You do the math in your head, “a few years? Almost four now,” 
“It’s a great place,” He says again. 
You leave the two empty cans on the counter and cross the room towards him, “Yeah,” you nod, “It’s small, but it’s nice and accessible, and in this area anyways I really can’t beat the rent,” 
“Mm,” He nods, “I wish I could say I know what you mean, but idol life is strange.” 
“That’s right,” You nod, “you don’t pay for your place?” 
You settle onto the small couch next to him as he answers, “It’s part of our contract so it’s provided, but if we were to leave the group before contracts are up we’d owe the money back,” 
You grimace, “That’s terrible,” 
He nods but it’s with a slight shrug, “Some companies are worse, KQ being small has its benefits in other areas so that’s never been much of a concern for us,” 
“That’s good at least,” You nod, “and they treat us pretty well, all things considered.” 
“Did you ever work anywhere else?” Yunho takes a sip of beer and makes a noise of satisfaction at the flavor. 
You smile and tuck your legs under you, angling towards him on the couch, “After cosmetology school I worked at SM for about a year,” 
“And?” He asks. 
“Awful,” You groan, “The pay was terrible, and the schedules were worse. It felt like being an intern,” 
“And then you came to KQ?” 
You sip your beer, nodding as you do, “Iseul and I went to school together, she got me in as soon as a position opened up, really vouched for me considering I had a smaller portfolio than she did at the time,” 
“I’m glad she did,” He smiles warmly.
 “What about you?” You ask, “Was KQ your first choice?” 
He turns towards you on the couch, his knees pressed against yours and he rests one arm on the back of your couch, “Not initially,” he admits, “but I had two other competing offers, and something just didn’t feel right about either. Then I met Hongjoong, and I guess you know, that’s it,” 
“A little bit of fate,” You smile. 
“Mm,” He nods, “fate, maybe luck, I don’t care what it was, I’m just happy to be with you now,” 
Your cheeks heat a little, and you look down at the popping bubbles on the surface of your drink.
”I just wish it happened sooner,” He admits, his hand sliding over the cushions to touch your forearm. 
You nod and look back up, “I know what you mean, but, maybe that’s another thing fate got right, maybe we’re finally ready for each other now.” 
He laughs, “What was the word Iseul used? Skittish?” 
You sigh, “Yeah, she’s not totally wrong. I used to have terrible taste in guys, or maybe I wasn’t comfortable opening up, I don’t know, but,” 
Yunho gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “I get it,” 
You cock your head, asking him a silent question. 
“I’ve dated a bit,” He explains, “and I always thought maybe it was me, but no matter how nice or compatible someone was on paper it was just…” 
“Dull?” You offer. 
He nods, “Like I was sleepwalking through it,” 
Your stomach bubbles with a nervous thrill, your chest constricting with anticipation, “And with me?” 
His mouth turns up in a small smile, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I’m more than awake with you.” 
“Me too,” You confess.
It’s quiet for a moment, Yunho’s thumb sweeping a soft line over the veins in your wrist, and then he exhales and drops his glass off on the table.
“Yun?” 
He smiles at the abbreviation of his name and takes your glass away too, “As much as I want to talk all night, and I do, I think I might actually die if I’m not touching you after all these weeks,” 
He reaches for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you over to his half of the couch. You squeak in surprise, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest and another on the cushions, but you end up pressed up against him and almost laying across his chest. Your body relaxes into him instantly, and Yunho lets out a relieved sigh. This, this is what you had been waiting weeks and weeks to feel again, the sureness of his body under your fingertips, the way your heart seems to slow and soothe with every touch. 
 “Anyways,” His voice cracks a little, a soft smile on his face, “you were saying,” 
You’re nearly nose to nose, close enough to hear his breath, to feel the thump of his heart under your palm. His eyes flick over your face, his lips part, pupils dilating wider with every passing moment. 
You try to remember where you were in the conversation, but with him so close and his hot hands on you, it’s all like a distant memory and you laugh lightly, “I have no idea,” 
He grins, his hand brushing your face, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheekbone, and then without a single conscious thought you’re surging forwards to press your lips to his. 
Yunho groans, hands tightening on your back, and when he starts to kiss you back it’s like the catch of a match under your skin, a crackle of need through every nerve ending. He kisses you with unmasked urgency, pulling little pants and moans from your lips every time you break for a breath. 
His hands slide down, cupping your backside, and you hitch a leg over his as you push yourself higher on the couch, desperately seeking more of his hot mouth. 
“Baby,” He breathes between kisses, his tongue flicking against yours as your mouth opens to him.
 Your body rolls on instinct, pressing your clothed core against his thigh. 
He groans again, pulling your body tighter against him and shifting the position of his leg so that his foot is flat on the floor, providing a hard, stable straddle for you. 
You wish so badly in this moment you weren’t wearing jeans, uncomfortably stiff denim that doesn’t let you properly feel the heat of him, but that doesn’t stop you from rocking your body once, twice, and again as you pant against his mouth.
 His fingertips slip under the waistband of your jeans, resting on your lower back while his free hand wanders around to your front, sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb ghosting over your pebbled nipple. 
You feel dizzy, and you press back from his mouth to take a sharp inhale, “Ah, Yunho,” 
He shudders, cupping your neck and pulling you back to his mouth. Mumbled against your lips he offers, “We can talk more,” 
You shake your head, “You really want to talk, right now?” You smile, pushing yourself further onto his lap, nearly straddling him now as you dive back in for another heated kiss. 
He groans, his hands flexing as they find anchor points on your hips, and he tugs you right into place with your pelvis slotted right over his. One of his hands skims up the back of your shirt, hot skin on skin, and you moan pleasantly into his mouth. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He pants between wet kisses, “you’re killing me here,” 
“Yeah?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies. 
He hums a yes, tongue dipping into your mouth to catch on yours. 
You can’t stop the little whine that leaves your lips, “Oh,” you roll your hips, “Yunho,” 
His hips twitch under you, and you can feel the start of his erection as it hardens under your ass. 
“Please,” You kiss him again, pushing your hips down and clinging onto his shoulders. 
His hand snakes up higher under your shirt, and his fingers deftly close over the clasp of your bra. In a second he slides the fabric in just the right way to open the clasp, and you feel the support release as his hand slides up and down the bare expanse of your back. 
“Fuck,” He shudders, “I’m sorry, I should have asked,” 
“Shut up,” You dive back in, your fingers tugging at his sweater, “take this off,” 
He kisses you hard once more and then pulls back, and you lean away still perched on his lap while he awkwardly tugs off the sweater, tossing it to the other side of your couch. 
“Can I,” His hands slide under your shirt, circling your bare waist, his eyes tracking the way your shirt slides up, “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” 
“Off,” You raise your arms and he slides his hands up, pushing the shirt up and over your head until he’s discarding it on the floor. 
When you look back down it nearly knocks the breath out of you. He’s staring at you like you’re a marvel, like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, and it draws your frantic pace to a blinding halt. He smiles softly, and his eyes skate down your body. Your bare neck, black bra straps loosely held on either shoulder, tattoos stretching down over your upper arms, over your elbows, stopping at mid forearm. The sheer mesh of your bra loosely cupping your breasts, nipples standing hard at attention through the fabric and the center of the underwire covering the top half of your red, looping soulmark. 
He reaches for you slowly this time, one hand sliding to the back of your neck while the other skims up and down your arm, “Can I?” He asks again, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your bra. 
You nod, breathless. 
He hooks his fingers under one side and pulls, letting the strap drop and the mesh cup falls slack. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and slowly he loosens the other strap, your bra falling away and landing in your laps. 
Your heart is hammering in your chest now, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his crisp white t-shirt. 
“So beautiful, baby,” He sighs, looking back up to your eyes, “you’re so perfect,” 
You can’t find any words, the way he looks at you and touches you has you rooted to the spot. 
“Can I kiss you again?” He slides his hands over your skin, still stroking your back and sides. 
That snaps you back into reality, and you dip forwards to crash your mouth to his. 
His arms wrap around you as yours knot into his hair, both of you a panting mess as you cling to each other on your sofa. Your bodies move in sync, his hands pressing just right as you roll your hips, only this time you can feel the hot press of his cock on your cunt through layers of fabric and you both moan at the contact. 
“Yunho,” You exhale sharply, rocking again to try and catch more sensation. 
“Jesus,” He pants, his hands locking down harder. 
You shudder at the contact, and you’re about two seconds away from begging him to take you right here on the couch when he puts the brakes back on. 
His hand slides up to catch your cheek, pushing your hair back and drawing your face away from his so he can look up at you, “y/n,” he says, voice a little hoarse, “that time on the phone,” 
You nearly moan at the memory of your silent orgasm, his voice in your ear, but you manage to nod. 
“DId you,” He starts and then backtracks, “I mean, you didn’t mind, or I guess what I’m asking is you weren’t, you know, uncomfortable,” 
His cheeks are turning pink as he talks, and you have half a mind to let him muddle through the thought, but you want his mouth on yours again and you cut him off, “You mean the best orgasm I’ve had in years?” 
He blushes properly then, his ears a frighteningly dark shade of pink and he clears his throat, “So you liked it?” 
Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile, leaning closer to him, your fingers tangling into his hair again, “Yunho,” you murmur, “are you asking if you can boss me around a little?” 
You’re nose to nose again, and his eyes search yours, “A little,” he concedes. 
“Boss away,” You grin, pressing your lips back to his, but he shakes his head. 
“Slow down,” He catches your hands in his and closes them together, pulling you back from him. 
Your brow knits together, “I’m getting mixed messages,” you glance down at your bare chest.  
His eyes flick to your breasts and back up and he huffs a soft laugh, “Sorry,” he manages, “I just meant we should talk,” 
“So much talk with you,” You tease him lightly, “I think I liked the kissing,” 
“Think?” His eyebrow quirks but then he shakes his head, “You’re a flirt, you do a hell of a job distracting me,” 
“Distracting you from what?” 
He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips, “Stop pouting,” he says, “I’m trying to be respectful, here,” 
“I’m feeling pretty respected,” You slip one hand out of his grip and tug at his t-shirt, “kiss me again, let’s double check.” 
He laughs properly this time, shaking his head, “I don’t know if it’s a soulmate thing or a you thing, but God, you know all my buttons, already, don’t you?” 
“I’m confused,” You relax in his lap a little, arms folding over your chest to cover yourself, “we were making out and it was perfect and now,” 
He nods, “I know, let me explain,” 
You wait for him to say more, the soft silence his opening. 
“We know each other,” He finally says, “but I don’t know what you like in bed,” 
“Oh,” Your shoulders relax a little, “well, traditionally we would have sex and figure that out,”
He rolls his eyes at you a little, a smile still on his lips, “y/n,” 
“Sorry, sorry, go on,” 
His hands settle over your thighs, “Every time we touch it feels like a fire,” he confesses, “and I’m trying not to lose my mind before we have a chance to talk about any of the important things, I don’t want to cross a line, I don’t want you to feel rushed or uncomfortable with anything,” 
You sigh, about to say more but he shakes his head and continues. 
“Without talking I won’t know what you don’t want,” He says, “or even if you want tonight to be the night, if you’re on birth control or if we should use condoms,” 
The thought of that sparks a clarity in you like no other and you realize he’s right, you were both so close to losing yourselves you could have made a mistake of the whole night. You blink, nodding this time. 
“And I’m afraid if we keep going like this,” He continues, “if we go upstairs without talking, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away without fucking you and making you mine tonight.” 
Your heart thumps in your chest. You’ve never been held like this, talked to like this, no one in your life has ever searched for your boundaries on their own quite like this, with sex or otherwise and you know suddenly with perfect truth what this night is going to be. 
You nod, and then you smile, “Can I talk now?” 
 “Please,” 
“I’m on birth control,” You start off with the easiest answer, “and I’ve been tested since my last partner, so as long as you have too we can go without condoms,” 
“I have,” He nods immediately, “it’s been a while and that’s part of our regular health screenings,” 
“Good,” You let your arms relax now, resting your hands on his shoulders as you keep going, “so that’s one thing cleared up,” 
He smiles. 
“As for the rest,” You hold his gaze, “I liked how you talked to me on the phone very much,” 
He swallows hard. 
“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re asking,” You let your thumb rub over the pulse point in his neck, “so let me be clear, I like that. I like that you want to take control, and I like that you want to tell me what to do. Very much.” 
He nods, “And,” 
“I’m not the type to do something I don’t want to,” You promise him, knowing it’s as much of a promise to yourself after everything you’ve experienced in past relationships, “if something isn’t right for me, I’ll say it.” 
His shoulders relax under your touch, “Good,” 
“My guess though,” You nudge him, “is that we’re pretty compatible if the universe thinks so too,” 
“I thought so,” He murmurs appreciatively. 
You lean a little closer to him, and his arms slide around your back to hold you as you muster up the courage for the next part of answers to his questions, “For what I like,” you start, “let’s figure out the details together.” 
He nods. 
“For what I don’t like,” You tell him softly, “um,” your voice cracks a little with nerves and discomfort, a tone you were hoping to conceal at least for tonight. 
He watches you fumble over the words, a little crease between his brows as he tries to parse out what’s behind your tone, his thumb dragging a comforting line over your vertebrae. 
You sigh heavily and tell him your boundaries in a rushed breath, “Don’t pull my hair too hard, and if I’m ever using my mouth on you, just tell me before you move, alright? We can figure the rest out as we go,” 
His expression smooths, and his eyes study yours with the start of a question. You didn’t want to go here, not for a while, but something about your connection with him or maybe even just his earnestness makes you tell him more than you ever normally would.
 Again, as he always seems to, he senses the sudden tension in your chest and simply nods before touching your cheek gently, “Anything else?” 
You shake your head. 
He watches you carefully, his touch soft, and then with easy comfort he finds a question, “Do you want to tell me?”
There’s no demand in it, no insistence, only the offer of an outstretched hand, a listening ear. The momentary tightness relaxes inside you and you shake your head, “Not tonight,” 
He wants to ask more, you can see it, but your past sexual experiences no matter how clumsy or good or borderline traumatic should have no space in your night here with him. He’s worried though, you can see that too. 
It’s quiet for a beat as you take that in, and he nudges you gently, “You okay?” 
“Mhm,” You nod, “I promise, but let’s not talk about it tonight,” 
“Alright,” He draws you close, a soft kiss to your lips. 
You return the kiss warmly, pressing the promise of later honesty into your intention and he nods, reading you with ease. 
“Yunho,” You murmur as you part, “I do want it to be tonight,” 
“You do?” He confirms, hand sliding up and down your bare back. 
“I want this,” You cup his cheek, “I want us, and I don’t want to wait anymore,” 
“Say that again,” He lets your words from a moment ago fade, focusing on what you’re telling him now. 
“I want this,” You pull at his t-shirt again, restless energy creeping its way back into your body. 
“Not that,” He dismisses, “the other thing,” 
You know just what he wants to hear, but you play dumb for just a moment, “I don’t want to wait anymore?” 
His hand tightens on your backside, “y/n,” 
“Us,” You smile, “I said I want us,” 
“That’s it,” He kisses your smile, “I like the sound of that,” 
“I want us.” You repeat for him, lips to his, “Now, please, will you take me to bed and make me yours? Or do I have to beg?” 
He groans, “Let’s go to bed,” 
“So easy,” You tease him, sliding off his lap and reaching for him. 
He pushes himself off the couch but slides his hand into yours and tugs you close again, “I’ll make you beg another time,” 
Your stomach flip flops, arousal spiking through you and he smirks at your dazed expression. 
“Cute,” He taps your nose and steps towards the stairs, “you’re sure?” 
You’re about to protest again, a heavy sigh brewing in your gut, but he clears his throat and continues. 
“On tour,” His eyes shift to the floor for a moment, “I know you were anxious about us, and we talked about waiting. I’ll… I know I want you, and I’m going to keep wanting you. I can wait if that’s what you need, we can date,” 
The one good thing about the tour and all your sleepless nights was how long you had to think about this, about him. Your initial panic and fear over logistics and what-ifs had faded in days. He’s here, standing in your apartment, so you trust your gut, and you trust fate, and decide for once in your life to let someone in. 
You step close and pull him towards you, “Yunho, I don’t want to date,” 
His eyes flick to yours, his irises dark, “You don’t,” 
“I said I want us,” You take his hands in yours and direct them to your hips, “I know what that means,” 
His eyes study yours for a moment, and then he sighs, “Good,” he pulls you up into his hold and crashes your lips together. 
This time there’s nothing between you, no schedules or secrets, no indecision or questions keeping you from letting go. With both eyes open you’re diving into each other, and nothing in the world could stop you from tying yourself to him tonight, body and soul. 
You feel him shift on the landing as you kiss, and you pant a single word against his mouth, “Bed,” 
He nods, stumbling up a few steps without breaking your lips apart, one of his hands secure on the railing to guide him upwards. 
You giggle as he tips to the side and rights himself, leaning back and looking down to see how far up he managed to get you both, “Let me down,” 
He eases you to your own step. 
“Get up here,” You tug his hand and take the familiar steps to your loft bed as quickly as you can, dragging him behind you the whole way. 
Once you hit the landing you take your hand back and start unbuttoning your jeans, but you stop at the sound of a soft thump and Yunho’s soft curse under his breath. 
Turning you realize the issue, he’s too tall for your landing’s slanted ceiling, and he must have bumped his head on the way up to your bedroom. You laugh sharply, covering your lips to stifle the sound, “Sorry,” you grin, “are you okay?” 
“Fine,” He rubs the spot, but shakes it off. 
You turn back to the bed and tug the downy comforter open, “You’re too tall, when we get our own place we’ll get high ceilings,”
Something warm floods your chest and then he’s on you again. Yunho spins you around and dips to kiss you, only this time there’s an edge to it, a neediness. He walks you back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and then he wraps his arms around you and pushes you down in one smooth motion. 
Yunho slots himself between your thighs, and you hitch your legs onto his hips as he presses you into the mattress with hungrier and hungrier kisses. 
His lips travel over your jaw, your throat, “You said when,” 
“Hmm?” Your brain feels cottony and light already and you turn your head just a little to hear him again. 
His hand drags down to the top of your jeans, tugging at the zipper, “You said when, not if,” 
“Yunho,” You smile, gasping as his teeth nip at your throat, “we’re about to tie ourselves together for life, did you think I haven’t thought about living with you?” 
He groans, “You’re perfect,” 
You thread your fingers through his hair, “So are you,” 
He tugs artlessly at the top of your pants and sighs, “Need these off,” 
“Take them off me,” You relax your legs, and he shifts back to stand, looping his thumbs in your belt loops so that when he tugs your jeans, they slide off in one smooth motion and drop to the floor. 
“Oh,” He says softly, getting a good look at your now bare legs and the lines of ink that cover so many inches of your skin, “wow,” 
You’ve never been self conscious about your tattoos before, not like this, and you find yourself letting your legs fall closed, “Oh?” 
”I didn’t realize you had more,” He comments but his expression softens into a smile, “they suit you,” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mm,” His hands slide up and down the plush curve of your thighs, “later you can tell me all about them,” 
Your stomach flips pleasantly. 
“Right now though,” He pushes your legs back open and drops back over you, slotting your bodies together and capturing your lips. 
You sigh pleasantly against his lips, wrapping your limbs around him and drawing him closer, and when his hips drop just enough for your core to press firmly against the front of his jeans you moan. 
Yunho groans, his hands wandering. 
You roll your hips, pressing yourself more firmly against the hard bulge of his clothed cock, “S-shirt off,” you pant, tugging at the fabric. 
He reaches back with one hand and grabs the back of his t-shirt and tugs, yanking it free with ease with only the briefest interruptions to your locked lips. When he presses closer to you this time, your bare chest is pressed against his. 
Your brain feels like dizzy stars, like someone picked you up and turned you around in endless circles until you couldn’t help but stagger in his direction, falling over yourself to hold onto him. His hips thrust gently, pushing his hardness insistently at your cunt and you moan into his mouth, your hot breath mingling together in panting sighs. 
“Yunho,” You whine, your core pulsating with need. 
“Yes, pretty girl?” He smiles against your lips, his hand skimming over the curve of your breast, down your side to anchor on your hip. 
You can’t wait anymore, if you do you might combust, and you reach between your bodies to tug at his belt buckle. 
He huffs a laugh, “Yeah?” 
“Please,” You work the leather loop free, “I’m way more naked than you,” 
“Patience,” He nips at your lip. 
His button is open with a frantic tug of your fingers, then his zipper, “I’ve been patient,” you push at his jeans, “baby, please, I need you,” 
“I need you too,” He balances himself on one hand braced on the bed, shimmying out of his pants, and you hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxer briefs to push at those too. 
“Please,” You find yourself begging so easily at the thought of this man pushing inside you. 
“Relax,” He kisses your forehead, tapping your hand out of the way so he can take off his own underwear, “I got it,” 
You ease back on the bed, but between the space of your bodies you watch him. Your mouth runs dry when he’s finally bare for you, and your heartbeat starts to pick up. 
The size of him is intimidating to say the least. He’s long, at least nine or ten inches if you were guessing, but what’s more is how thick he is. His cock is heavy, the kind you’d see in porn and wonder how the women on screen could take it. You can see every vein, the way it stands perfectly straight, the velvety mushroom head already dark pink and slick with the first few beads of precum. 
Yunho settles back above you, his hot, thick length resting on the top of your pubic mound, only the thin cotton of your panties keeping you from feeling him fully. 
”God,” You breathe, still taking him in, “I hope you’re good at foreplay,” 
He squeezes your hip, “We’ll take it slow,” 
You nod, still fixated on the sight of him between your legs, and you try not to think about how far up your stomach his cock comes and what that means for when he tries to put it inside you. Instead you focus on the fact that he’s yours, “We were made for each other right?” You joke softly, “I can take you,” 
He smooths your hair back and tilts your head up, finding your eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he reiterates, “have you ever been with someone my size? Or used any toys like that?” 
For all the sex you’ve had, his question makes you feel a bit like a blushing virgin and you shake your head. 
Something flashes in his eyes, and you feel the twitch of his cock against you. 
“You like that?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from teasing him too much. 
He brushes past your question, “Let me warm you up,” 
Easy relief blooms in your chest, your muscles starting to relax, and he settles his body over you properly to take you right back into a tender kiss. You can feel him hard and present between you, but he distracts you with open mouthed kisses, his hands exploring you slowly until your hips are twitching on their own. 
You’re dripping wet, there’s no way you’re not soaking through the thin fabric of your panties, but his kisses continue like that’s the last thought in his mind. He makes his way across your jaw, sliding lower down your body as he lavishes attention on your neck, over the jut of your collarbones, across the smooth plane of your chest and tops of your breasts. 
“Oh, yes,” Your voice is breathy as he slides even lower in the bed between your thighs, his mouth skimming over the swell of your tits, ghosting past your nipples. 
“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, hands cupping your chest and drawing your breasts together, his teeth sink into his lower lip at the sight. 
“Y-yeah?” Your hips arch beneath him, “You like me?” 
A smile tugs at his lips, one hand sliding up to your cheek as he looks up, “I more than like you, y/n,” 
Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart quickening in your chest. 
Yunho smiles a little at that, feeling the echo of your emotions himself, and then he dips his face to kiss your chest again. This time his lips travel in a smooth, reverent line down your sternum until you feel his breath against your looped tattoo. 
Pleasure sparks inside you and you moan softly, one of your hands threading into the back of his hair. 
He hums pleasantly, and then kisses your mark. 
“Yunho,” You sigh, heat flooding your body. 
He kisses you again, pressing a peck to each of the four corners of the knotted diamond, before centering another again and pouring every ounce of his feeling into it through the link. This time, he murmurs what you already know against your skin, “I love you,” 
Tears gather in your eyes, the feeling spilling over into you so all encompassing that it fells you. You tremble in his arms, your eyes locked to the white ceiling above you as you try desperately to steady yourself in the wave of emotion and sensation. 
His kisses start to travel lower, and your fingers card through his hair, “Y-Yunho, I,” 
“Shh,” He shakes his head, lips moving down over your belly as he shifts lower, “just relax,” 
A little piece of you wants to protest, wants to tell him that you love him too, but he settles between your thighs and slides your legs open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, and every coherent thought flutters right out of your brain. 
Yunho kisses your inner thigh, easing himself into the perfect position, and then he wraps his arms around your hips under your splayed thighs, one hand braced on your rib cage and the other closing over your abdomen. 
His nose gently, gently nuzzles against your clothed mound and you hear him breathe you in. 
You shudder, moaning softly, your hand finding his hair once again. 
“I’ll take good care of you,” He murmurs low, kissing your cunt, “I love you so much,” 
“Oh,” Your breath catches as he tastes you through the fabric of you underwear, “p-please,” 
His hand on your abdomen shifts, and he reaches between your thighs to tug your underwear to one side, hooking it under his thumb to hold it in place. You gasp as his warm breath caresses your slit, your hand sliding to brace his shoulder. 
“I got you,” He soothes you, his free hand sliding up and down on your ribs, “I promise,” 
A needy sound stutters from your throat. 
At the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, Yunho groans and you start to tremble properly in his hold. It feels like liquid fire, better than any touch you’ve ever felt, partner, toy, or or own fingers. Yunho’s lips, his tongue, each little brush of his fingers, every bit of him feels like it was divined for you, and you won’t last a minute. 
“Feel good?” He checks, sliding his tongue through your lower lips again. 
“Incredible,” You pant, your hips canting to try and catch more sensation, “I, I c-can’t,” 
He chuckles, the vibrations running straight up your body, “You taste like heaven, baby,” 
Moaning, you grip down on his shoulder. 
“Mm,” He dives in properly, nestling close and all but kissing your cunt, “god,” 
His tongue drives any coherent thoughts out of your head as he gets the feel for your body, the firm tip sliding over your clit and making you jolt under his hands. 
“Y-yes,” You manage, nodding into the pillows. 
“Here?” He breathes, flicking your swollen clit again. 
“Oh, yes, god,” You grip the sheets. 
He hums, his hands tightening on your skin, and then he closes his lips over your bud and sucks. 
“Oh!” You arch back, hand flying up to catch his head and brace yourself, “Fuck, fuck,” 
He stays steady this time, sucking and lapping at you in a perfect rhythm, holding you in place as he finds the perfect combination to have you scrambling in the sheets. 
“Baby,” You moan, the word turning into a heady whine. 
He groans against you, dragging you tighter to his mouth with a flex of his arms. Your head spins as you slide down the mattress, a bubble of taut pleasure building inside you fast and hot. 
“Please,” You moan, your back arching as he delivers a sharp suck. 
His broad hand slides up from its place anchored on your side to cup your breast, and you look down to watch him move. His fingers deftly find your nipple, twisting and pinching gently, and as he takes a breath between licks and sucks to your dripping cunt, his eyes flash up and meet yours. 
A smile flicks across his wet face, and your eyes roll as you collapse back into the bedding to let him work. 
“That’s it,” He huffs as he sucks in another breath, tongue diving back inside you, pulsing and thrusting. 
Your thighs start to shake, your body jerks on its own, and he finds the perfect tempo to take you through - his thumb swiping sharply over your nipple back and forth, his mouth working you up higher and higher with a sustained pressure. 
The bubble of pleasure arcs up your spine and then settles back down, low in your belly, and you gasp sharply, “God, oh, god,” 
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t change a single thing, he stays steady and that brings you right up to the very edge. 
“I’m,” Your eyes snap shut, your body shuddering, “I’m, c-coming, Yunho, I’m… baby, I’m,” 
He moans through your babbled pleas, and then you break apart beneath him. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wall of heat, and your body wrenches up tight into fits and starts, legs snapping shut around his ears, fingers knotted in his hair, your free hand braced on the wall behind you as your body jerks itself in rolling grinds against his eager mouth. 
He eases you through it, transitioning from sucks to lazy licks with the flat of his tongue, until you’re boneless and melted under him, your legs falling slack open as your eyes stay unfocused on the ceiling. 
“Okay,” His low voice comes back to you, and you feel his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, a kiss to your knee, “that’s it,” 
A shiver runs through you, your body suddenly cold at the lack of contact and you take in a sharp breath. 
“I got you,” He shifts over your legs, crawling up the bed so he can collapse along your one side, and he wraps you up in his arm. 
His cheeks are pleasantly pink, hair a chaotic haystack, his mouth is still glistening from your slick wetness, and he grins down at you breathlessly, “Hey,” 
“H-hi,” You sigh. 
“Feeling good?” He cups your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. 
You nod, relaxing into his touch, “Mhm,” 
“Good,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead and draws you into him to let you recover. 
You melt into his touch, cheek to chest. 
Yunho brushes his fingers up and down your spine and gets his own breath back. 
After a few more moments, you sigh, shaking out the post-orgasm haze and kiss his skin, “I’d say I’m warmed up now,” 
He huffs a laugh into your hair, “Eager,” 
“Aren’t you?” Your hand slides over his bare side. 
“I am,” He squeezes you.
Feeling starts to come back into your body and you smile, wriggling in his arms until you’re in a better position and able to follow his earlier lead. You nip gently at his chest and pepper him with kisses, and you smile when you hear his contented sigh and pleased hum. His fingers slide up and down your back as you try to give him a taste of every sensation he gave to you. 
At his mark, you follow his kisses exactly, and you feel him twitch, his hard length pressing into your belly where you have his cock trapped between your bodies. 
You linger here a moment, “You feel that?” 
At your punctuated kiss against his soul mark he sighs, “I can feel you,” 
You nod, nuzzling into him, “You’re mine,” 
“Completely,” 
“I’m yours,” You murmur, promising him the same. 
“Mine,” He breathes. 
Your kisses travel lower as you work your way down the smooth plane of his abdomen, his muscles twitching under your lips, but as you settle yourself over his hips and work your mouth closer and closer to the base of his cock he shifts under you. 
“Hey,” He catches your hands, closing them in his own, “I’m fine,” 
“I want to,” You smile, a tender kiss to the underside of his shaft before you let your tongue trace up the seam of his thick member. 
He gasps, hips twitching, but he shakes his head, “Wait, wait,” 
You pull back immediately and look up, a swirl of feelings knotting in your gut, “What?” 
He swallows hard and slides his hands up your arms, hooking under your upper arms so he can tug you back up to lie next to him eye to eye, “Not tonight,” 
“I want to make you feel good,” Your hand snakes between you, searching for him. 
“You do,” He sighs as your hand closes around him, “you are, but after what you said,” 
It feels like a bucket of cold water and your hand falls away from his cock. You hate your ex so much for being anywhere near your head at this moment with this man, but he is. He never hurt you, but the way he pressured you and pushed you into things you weren’t ready for has been an ever present shadow in your sex life even now, years and multiple partners later. 
Yunho kisses your lips and tries to keep his tone light, “Another time,” he tells you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 
“It’s not,” You fumble over your words again, “it’s not bad, I’m alright, I want to,” 
He smiles and shakes his head, “I’d be more comfortable,” 
That takes the wind right out of your sails, and you sink into him, “Oh,” 
“You want to make me feel good?” He asks. 
You nod. 
His hand slides down your arm, drawing your own hand to his aching cock, and he closes your fingers around it, “Touch me, then, we’ll have time for the rest later,” 
He’s hot in your hand and you take in the weight of him as you slide your fist up and down to explore him. 
He groans, “Again,” 
You pump your hand once more, base to tip, rolling your wrist experimentally this time as you work his tip. Leaving any thoughts of the past behind, you focus on him entirely. 
“You’re s-so good at this already,” He sighs, “just like that,” 
Your bodies shift to accommodate, he cuddles you closer with one arm wrapped around you and your legs tangled together, and slowly you start to learn his body too. The way he twitches as your fist drops down to the base and squeezes, his gasp when your knuckle brushes up over the seam of his cockhead. His eyes blow wide when your thumb collects a bead of precum to rub up and down his shaft, and he moans when your fingers tighten and release. 
His free hand snakes between your bodies, finding your slippery center again like he’s been touching you for years. 
“Oh, Yunho,” You part your thighs. 
He groans, eyes slipping closed for a moment, “You’re so wet,” 
You moan as he slides his fingers lower, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. 
“Needy,” He murmurs. 
You do your best to focus on him, but the pressure of his fingers at your wet opening has you jerking your hips. Your hand tightens on his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath, nodding. His cock feels so right in your hand, thick and pulsing, and you shiver, “I should have known you’d be huge,” you giggle against his shoulder. 
He smirks, “Yeah?” 
“You’re tall,” You start. 
He pulls his fingers back away from your pussy, dragging the pads of his fingertips over your clit as he does and you moan, a whiny needy sound from the center of your throat. 
“Not all tall guys,” He starts to say but you pump your hand just right and he curses. 
“Mm,” You slide closer to him if at all possible, “but you’re big everywhere,” 
You punctuate your words with a gentle tease of his cockhead, the pad of your thumb rubbing a circle into the seam that made him pant before, and he twitches, his eyes rolling. 
He swallows tightly and smiles, “Am I?” 
“Mhm,” You nip his chest lightly with your teeth, pumping your hand again nice and slow, “big feet, big hands…” 
“Been thinking a lot about my hands, sweetheart?” He teases, dragging his nails lightly up and down your thigh. 
“Shut up,” You duck your face, planning to double down your efforts on his cock, but he pushes your hand away and rolls you smoothly onto your back. You drop back with a squeak, your eyes flying up to his. 
“You have,” He teases, sliding his palm down your body, a slow and torturous pace on the path to your cunt once again. 
“Maybe,” 
”Fantasizing about my fingers?” His voice is low, warm in his chest, and he slowly presses his middle finger over your clit. 
“Oh, fuck,” Your head drops back, eyes finding the ceiling once again only this time Yunho makes a soft noise, his tongue against his teeth and he shakes his head. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” He murmurs, his fingers rocking gently over your swollen bud. 
You are a little, but there’s something in his tone that tells you he likes it and you think about the way his eyes flashed at the idea of being your first partner his size. With every little touch you’ve been figuring him out, and this suddenly feels like he’s allowing himself to want you in the way he needs. If he wasn’t so good at pressing all your buttons you’d try to tease him again, but when you meet his eyes and see the heat behind them, all you can do is melt. 
His next words leave you breathless, “I fantasize about you,” 
“Y-you do?” 
“All the time,” He nods, his hand between your thighs getting bolder as he explores your wet folds. 
“Please,” Your hips arch as the tips of his fingers pass over your entrance again. 
“Oh baby,” He groans, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your thigh, “you need it?” 
You nod, reaching down to find his wrist, tugging him to communicate while your head feels so full of fuzzy pleasure. 
“Fuck it,” He bites his lip as he looks down at you squirming in the sheets, “I’ll tease you later,” 
“Thank g-,” The words die on your lips, punched out of you when he slides two of his impossibly long fingers deep into your cunt in one push. 
He doesn’t wait for you to beg this time, with his eyes glued to your every expression, he reads your pleasure and starts to pulse his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering core with strong, steady strokes. 
“Yes, yes,” Your legs widen, and you collapse into his shoulder, “oh my god,” 
His fingers feel thick and warm in your cunt, crooked just right to reach spots you could only hit with toys, and even then the feeling of those pale in comparison to him. 
“I knew you’d feel good,” He pushes your legs open wide with his free hand, “can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” 
Pleasure arcs up your spine and you moan, your hand flying to his bicep and gripping down hard, “Fuck,” 
He presses a kiss to your shoulder as he adjusts his position and in torturously slow pumps of his hand, he starts to work you open. He scissors his fingers wide as draws them out, and when you feel him push in a third finger as deep as he can go, you shudder against the sheets. 
“So tight,” He murmurs, the words sounding like praise on his lips, “you’re squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,”
Your cunt clenches in response and he chuckles. 
“Exactly like that,” He smiles and thrusts his fingers in and out again, increasing his pace as your breath starts to quicken. 
“Y-Yunho,” You jerk against him, the bubble of a building orgasm once again gathering low in your gut and you scramble in the sheets until you’re legs are open as wide as possible, one leg hitched over his. You can’t stop watching him now, the lean muscle of his arm, the way the tendons in his forearm twitch with his movements. Pushing up on your forearms you catch sight of his index, middle, and ring fingers gathered tightly together, glistening with your wetness as they plunge in and out of your fluttering cunt. 
“So beautiful,” He groans, kissing your temple and wrapping his free arm around your back to adjust to the position change, giving his arm enough leverage that he can keep thrusting in and out. 
You moan at the heady sensation of his fingers at your g-spot, hips pushing down into his hand. 
“Want you to come again,” He says hotly against your hair.
 You nod, heels digging into the mattress as your body jerks, needily meeting each stroke of his fingers with your hips. 
“Tell me,” He says. 
“H-harder,” You beg him, sensation cascading through you, “harder, baby, please,” 
“God, yes,” He adjusts, and suddenly you’re pinned back to the mattress flat on your back, one of Yunho’s broad hands stretched wide on your sternum to pin you in place as he fucks you open with the other. 
Perfect, almost painful pleasure has your eyes slamming shut and a desperate whine on your lips, “Oh, oh, oh,” each push in of his fingers punches out a breathy moan, your pussy fluttering as he draws you up to the peak. 
“Tell me you’re close,” He pants, “I want to hear it,” 
Your nerve endings light up, your body arching under the hard press of his hand, “I’m so close, I’m so f-fucking close,” 
“Come for me, baby,” 
Your nails dig into his thigh, the pressure mounting inside you, “Again,” you manage, begging for more. 
His fingers curl, just a little more, “Come,” he says it again, only this time his tone is sharper, deeper and more direct. It’s not a question, not a wish or a hope, it’s a command. 
Your free hand claps over your mouth, stifling a moan and you bite down on the fleshy heel of your hand to keep from screaming. 
“Come,” He holds you steady, “that’s it, let go, let it all go, baby,” 
Your body erupts into ecstatic shakes, pleasure rolling through in wave after wave, but all you can do is let it. 
“Just like that,” He groans, “fuck yes,” 
This time, as your orgasm starts to abate, he doesn’t kiss you tenderly or wrap you up for a cuddle, this time he’s just as frantic as you are. 
“I need you,” He pants, his body over top of yours once again, “y/n, fuck,” 
You blink hard, still a trembling mess, and you see his own desperate expression. His cheeks are pink, brow slick with sweat, pupils dilated with desire as he opens your legs and crowds you with his body. 
“T-talk to me,” He manages, his hand directing his weeping cock to your throbbing entrance, “tell me you still want this,” 
“I want this,” You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer, “I want you,” 
“God,” He’s shaking, his body taut like a rubber band about to snap, and somewhere inside you you can feel the amount of self control he’s exhibiting just to go slowly. 
You moan sharply when his tip drags over your throbbing clit. 
“You’re so wet,” He pants, watching between your bodies as he slicks the head of his cock between your folds. 
“For you,” You breathe, your head feeling cottony. 
“So pretty,” The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and you shiver. 
Need sparks through you, “Please,” you tug at his hip, just a little and he smiles. 
“Tell me if I need to stop,” He manages, his weight collapsing a little as he slowly starts to push his hips forwards. 
You gasp as you start to feel him, your cunt still swollen and pulsing from two back to back orgasms, and his eyes snap up. 
Yunho watches your face carefully as he moves, his body strung tight as he tries to hold onto a thread of composure. It feels normal at the start, but as he pushes in past the head, you feel yourself start to stretch wide in a way you’ve never experienced and your breath starts to quicken. 
“Oh, fuck,” You look between your bodies, watching his slow sink into your wet heat, and swallow tightly at just how much of him is left to take. 
“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.
“Uh-huh,” You manage, “I can feel everything, but god, don't stop,”
He hisses, gripping your thigh with his free hand, fingers still slick with your juices, fighting the urge to lose himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes flicking over the expression of tight pleasure on your face.  
“Don’t you dare pull out,” You grip down on his shoulders and roll your hips roll a bit, taking him in another inch, “you feel so good,” 
He lets out a heady breath, and moves in just a bit more, “Yeah?” 
“Never felt anything this good,” You moan as he pushes in further, your walls fluttering and clamping around his hot length. 
He rolls his hips this time, just a little experiment to drag himself in and out without fucking into you fully, and he moans when your muscles lock pleasantly around him, “God, you really were made for me,” 
“Yours,” You say it like a vow, and in a strange way somewhere in the back of your mind you know it is. A dizzy promise in an almost marriage bed as your bodies sink together. 
His breath hitches, cock shifting inside you, his head dropping so that you’re forehead to forehead, “And yours,” he agrees softly. 
Your body feels hot suddenly, hotter than before, everything a hazy glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom. You feel all at once like you’re in the moments before a wave, the sudden suck back of the water with all the sand slipping away from underneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and sinking into the earth. Your ears catch with a dull ring. 
Your breath is comes quickly now, warmth flushing your chest and cheeks, and your nails tighten on his skin, “Yunho,” 
He adjusts to meet your gaze, and you realize he’s feeling exactly what you are, the thrumming sensation of it all but swirling around you in the air. He blinks hard, “I’m.. I need,” 
You understand him without words, you know exactly what he needs because you need it too. Through the fog of sensation, you pull lightly on his shoulders and hitch your calves on his hips, drawing him in deeper, “Please,” 
His hips drop, seating himself just a little more and you moan at the stretching sensation. He’s holding himself back, clinging to the one clear thought that he promised he’d take care of you, but his resolve is crumbing apart before your eyes. 
“Yunho,” You cup his cheek, begging him with your expression to let go, “I need you,” 
He swallows hard, his chest flushed red, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. 
The words flood out of you, a whispered confession just for him, “I love you, please,” 
He exhales in a rush, a wide smile breaking across his face, his eyes shining, and without any more hesitation he thrusts forwards and sinks his full length inside you. 
You moan sharply, wrapping your arms around him as he drops his body down on yours, sweat slick skin pressed flush together. The hot dizziness grows, and he finds your lips, moaning against your mouth as he kisses you hard. Your bodies start to move in sync, a tandem push and pull as he rolls into the cradle of your hips, your breath tangled together as you rock in the sheets. 
Yunho leans his forehead against yours, pumping his hips slow and firm, “I love you,” 
The sensation grows, filling the air around you and a chill rushes up your spine, the hair on your arms standing up at attention, the magnetic pull between your bodies so forceful you don’t think a single thing in the world could drag you away from him. Emotion rocks through the link, and then all at once you feel it snap into place. 
Your tattoo burns, the brand igniting just like when you touched his cheek for the first time, and you suck in a sharp breath. Yunho’s hips stutter in pace, sinking himself deep until your bodies are nestled together with every inch of him buried inside you. 
He’s breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around you, hands trembling, “I can feel you,” he leans up an inch, smoothing your hair back from your face, “you’re,” 
His words die on his lips but he touches his chest and you nod, you feel him too. One single heartbeat, one breath. The link before was nothing, a mere echo of this, a blurry photograph now sharply in focus, and you reach up to brush your fingers along his cheek, his lips, a ghost of the sensation along your own face. 
“How is this real?” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve seen the movies, read the books, you’ve talked to people who have found their soulmates before, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You feel him inside you as if he were a part of you, his skin your skin, his emotions, even the shape of his thoughts.  
You understand all at once why people say it’s possible to die of a broken heart. If you ever lost him, lost this… 
“I’m here,” He interrupts your internal spiral, dipping to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere,” 
“How did you,” You shake your head in strange awe of the feeling, “what is this?” 
“I don’t know,” He kisses you again, “I just knew, I felt it,” 
Tears spill over, snaking back into your hairline, and you press your palm to his chest, sliding down over his tattoo. Words fail you, all you can feel is the overwhelming breadth of your souls together. How could anyone live without this, how could anyone believe this isn’t real?
“Don’t cry,” He soothes, wiping the tears from your temples with his thumb. 
“I’m happy,” You manage, finding his eyes again, “Yunho, I’m so happy,” 
He grins, his breath catching in his throat as he lets his forehead rest on yours again and he nods, “Me too,” 
His love thrums through you, tangible and solid, a truth you didn’t know you could have. You’re grinning too now, an elated laugh on your lips as you wrap your arms around him, “Fuck,” you thread your fingers in his hair, nuzzling into him, “you love me,” 
“So much,” He confesses quietly, “I didn’t know I could love someone like this,” 
“Me too,” You press your lips to his, sighing into him, “I love you too,” 
The kisses feel like his love actualized, nothing more true than his mouth, his need, and yours reflected back in the mirror of his desire. You moan as another wave of heat floods through you, and Yunho shudders.
For a moment, there’s nothing more to say, tangled together in your bed in the middle of Seoul, time seemingly standing still just for you. Tightly locked together, you both start to move again. Each slow pump of his hips down is met with an upward roll of yours, his cock slowly stroking in and out of your pulsing center, your arms wrapped around each other as you pant and moan. 
You crumble apart together, still deep beneath the dizzy waves, his mouth hot against your ear as he releases inside you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him, drawing him in, holding him inside.
**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!
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ebsmind · 8 days ago
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My Little Treasure | president!Nico Hischier x fem!reader
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summary : being the presidents mistress isn’t easy. even when another woman comes out saying she’s having an affair with him.
word count : 8.5k (the longest ive ever written BE PROUD OF ME)
warning(s) : this is purely based off of shonda rhimes SCANDAL sjiwiejdj, angst, longing (kinda? idk), cheating/infidelity (nellie deserves better), reader pushes her feeling aside, timo being called nico’s personal bitch AHAHAHA, murder (mentioned in case), non accurate descriptions of politics and law stuff, like 2-3 mentions of vomit , use of Y/N (I tried not too but I just couldn't), tbh there’s not a lot of nico x reader IM SORRY part 2 will make up for it, heavy makeout session, smut kinda? idk but next part will be smutty TRUST, getting caught by timo (what the hell Timo), VIOLENCE aka just a slap in the face, one flashback spicy scene and i think that's it!
a/n : LISTEN LISTEN before i say ANYTHING i just wanted to say that i know nico isn’t american but im currently hyper fixated on him and only him and i just started watching scandal again SO I HAD TO so please if you don’t like the “accuracy” don’t read it! this is FICTIONAL but yeah here we are! this closely follows the first episode from season 1! this is a long oneeeee! i’ve also changed the names of Abby, Quinn, Harrison, Huck, AND Cyrus (you’ll see who I change him with 😏) I also go along with the case that’s happening so this is semi like a mystery but not? idk how to explain but you’ll see as you read. send me something in my inbox if you want me to elaborate on anything about the side characters! i definitely want to turn this into an au so send me something so i can write about it or talk about it! here’s the mood board! this is also my second time writing anything spicy so please bear with me, this whole fic idea really had me out of my comfort zone so it isn't my best writing but I still wanted to get this out!
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The clicks of your So Kate’s are heard throughout the law firm. Everyone knows it’s you, just by the way you walk. It’s swift and carries determination, you are on a mission. You present yourself with a sense of purpose to your colleagues. Scratch that, they’re family. Despite them technically being your coworkers, you would do anything for the four of them. From saving Gwen from her violent ex-husband to Kurt, a soldier who had served in the United States CIA’s top secret, off the books, B-613 program who ended up being dumped on the streets to beg for food, you saved them and they were all you had. 
You step into the standard-sized conference room, and the extensive window along the back wall displays an orange-to-blue hue. The sun is setting and making it known that the end of the day is near. You first make eye contact with Blair, the senior associate at the firm. She stops her conversation amongst everyone and before she can greet you, Kurt, who is sitting at the very right end of the table, utters, “Perla Schmitz killed herself, channel 5.” 
You make no time to strut to the table and grab the TV remote, which had been sitting next to Blair. You don’t need to change the channel once you press the power button on the remote, it’s all you watch in the firm—across the 55’ inch screen, displayed in bold lettering ‘Perla Schmitz (26) found dead in her home’. You take a second to yourself. Perla had been caught cheating on her husband, who was a very conservative congressman, but that wasn’t the icing on the cake. The guy she was having an affair with? He murdered her husband, brutally. 27 stab wounds to the chest, his head almost decapitated because of how much force was used to slit his throat. If someone were to ask you, you’d say she had it coming. 
You turn to the group and raise a finger in the air as you start to speak. “We knew this was coming, let’s not pretend that she wasn’t the one cheating on her husband.” 
Perla came into your office late last Friday night, around 11:25. You had stayed longer than you originally wanted to, needing to finish up some paperwork that had to be done for one of the previous clients you had. What a way to bring in the new year, but you weren’t complaining. 
“Exactly! I knew she didn’t have enough willpower to continue her life. She took the easy way out, man.” You take a seat at the left end side of the table, parallel to Kurt while Neil, another associate and close friend of yours finishes his veracious remark. You decide it’s best to tell Neil and everyone else to drop the topic, but before you can open your mouth, the firm doors open. The 7-foot ebony-colored wood doors reveal a man with black hair and blue eyes, maybe mid to late 20s. The first thing you notice is how his eyes tear up before he speaks, not how he’s covered in blood. 
“I-…I didn’t kill her I swear! She was my best friend, we were gonna get married!” 
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Your irises scan over the pinned evidence on the whiteboard, it had been approximately 18 hours since the 6’2 blood blood-covered man had walked into your firm. Sully St. James comes from an extremely well-respected family. His father was a Veteran from the Vietnam War. Sully himself had done two tours in Iraq and received the Medal of Honor. Having someone as well respected as him, show up to the front door of your firm, asking for help wasn’t new but you were determined to help the man not get convicted as the killer in his girlfriend’s murder case. You needed time, but the US attorney general David Rosen was stubborn. 
“Okay! So, according to Sully, he had just come home from the bar down on 9th St, called SOST, he then walked into the bathroom where the crime scene is, saw Paige’s body on the ground,” Blair points out and before she can finish her sentence Kurt cuts her off. 
“Paige suffered from 2 bullets to the chest and 1 to the head. This wasn’t a freak accident, someone wanted her dead.” Kurt crosses his arms and moves up from the far end of the table. He was correct, but your gut couldn’t help but wail that Sully was not the cause. 
Blair continues to explain the approximate details, “Here’s the weird part, Sully calls the police but before they can get there he flies, and he flies here.” She takes a step away from the whiteboard and makes eye contact with you. She can sense what you’re already going to say. Blair knows you, and she knows you like the back of her hand. 
“My gut tells me that he didn’t do this. Something is missing. I need more, all of you need to try to find something, anything! Anything that can clear this man’s alibi. He said it himself that he loved her and that she was his best friend. I believe him.” You step up from the chair you were sitting in and start heading towards the conference room doors when your cell phone starts to ring. Grabbing it out of your left pocket, the name “Timo Meier” is displayed across the screen. You huff in response. 
He needs you right now and you know if Timo were to tell you to head to the White House as soon as possible you would and it wouldn’t end in a way you would like. Yet, you still manage to press the green button, confirming the call. 
“What do you want.” You’re busy and Timo knows it. This isn’t some ‘Oh hi! How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while phone call. Timo didn’t have time for that, being the White House’s Chief of Staff to Nico Hischiers personal bitch, he never had time.
Timo sighs, you can already picture him, sitting at his desk, elbow resting on it, his thumb and pointer finger trying to relieve his throbbing headache. Timo did so much for the President of the United States and somehow that included calling you on a random Tuesday afternoon. 
“He needs you to come in. Something happened and we need you to make it go away.” Timo lets you take a second to respond. Already sensing that the situation was substandard, it had been months since you had last spoken to Timo and maybe even half a year since you’ve seen Nico. Physically. It wasn’t that you hated him, you could never. It was the fact you left your position as the White House Communications Director for yourself. Everything you did was always for Nico and never not you and when the realization of that hit you, it was time to go. It’s time to separate yourself from some fantasy that only ever works out in the books. The feeling of two hands wrapped around your throat finally caught up to you. 
“I’ve got a client sitting in my conference room Timo.” 
“Look, I know, I know, but this isn’t something that needs to be out in the public. Make it go away. Please. If not for him, for me.” He’s desperate and you know it. If you were to tell him that the only reason you were about to agree was because you held him in such high regard, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you keep your reply as simple as needed. 
“Okay, I’ll be there in 45 minutes. I need to let Neil know.” 
You spot Timo before he spots you. He’s sat on a bench, perhaps getting some proper vitamin D. You watch the way his foot taps every other millisecond. Being cooped up in a mediocre-sized office in the White House can make someone feel insane, you’ve been there. 
As you get closer, you examine the navy blue suit that he’s dressed in. It’s his favorite one, he has 3 more pairs of it because he wears it so much. His tie has gold accents on it, it’s from his wife. You had helped her pick it out for him since you had seen him a lot more than she did. His eyes are heavy, he’s needs a vacation, a long one to be exact. You’ll let Nico know if you ever see him again, maybe he can pull some strings for him even if it’s a nice (long-awaited) expensive dinner.
You walk up the concrete steps before reaching Timo, the only thing grabbing his attention is the click of your heels. Once he realizes that you have walked up to him, you open your mouth to greet him. 
“What.” Timo giggles, he’s knows you mean business but he can’t deny he misses your presence around in the White House even if you were telling him off half of the time. 
“Well, hello to you too.” He stands up and gestures to start walking with him. You obey and within a second you guys stride across the walkway that overlooks the White House. 
“What do you need me for Timo? I don’t work for him anymore.” 
“He needs a favor.” You scoff at Timo and choose not to say anything.
“You still came. You came when I called.” His words hit you like a bus. It stings. Both you and Timo know that whenever the President needs anything from you, you’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’d do anything for everyone you love. You were loyal. That’s how it always had been and why Nico wanted you there every step of the way. He knew that he could turn his back and not expect a knife to be plunged into it. 
“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt. She works in AIDE. She claims to have had an affair with him. I need you to make it go away and fast.” Timo places his right arm on his abdomen, in response you hook your left one into his right and walk side by side with Timo. 
“Is it true?” You try to show no reaction but green envy begins to boil in your stomach.
“No, of course not, but I need you to shut it down.” 
“I need to see him.” You don’t think about your reply until after it leaves your mouth. Both you and Timo come to an abrupt stop. He takes a step back and faces you. 
“No, I don’t think that’s possible.” 
“You want me to shut her up? Then I need to look at him in the eyes and know he’s not lying.” Timo knows that you're serious. You always are. 
“The President’s schedule is packed. He has no time to see you.” He’s straightforward, Timo doesn’t have time for negotiating but luckily for you, you’re a persuasive person. You tend to always get what you want even if it means overstepping some boundaries. 
“He wants my services but here’s the thing Timo, I do not work for him anymore! So, tell him to make time to see me if not you’re just gonna have to find someone else to do it for you. You know where to find me.” 
After giving Timo a faint smile, you turn to walk away. As one foot goes in front of the other, you can’t help but feel that some part of this story is true making your heart ache.
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By the time you get back to your office, you get a phone call from Timo, confirming that Nico managed to get out of a meeting so that he could talk to you. With that, you grab your coat off the coat rack and start heading towards the conference room to let at least Gwen know about your abrupt departure. 
“Hey Gwen, duty calls at the White House, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Anything new?” Gwen knows you’re talking about the case and before she utters anything new she’s found, she strides to the door and closes it. 
Knowing that Sully is just in the room next door, she lowers her voice, “Kurt managed to get into Paige’s email and I’ve been reading. I found one where she emailed a friend. She was supposed to meet up with a friend at the embassy party together but never showed.” 
You nod your head to show that you understand but it’s not enough information to be able to explain why Paige was murdered so, you request more information. 
“Who? and Why?” Keep it simple. 
Gwen takes about a second before she replies, “A girl named Ariel, and I don’t know why.” 
“Find out why. ‘I don’t know’ is not an answer I’m gonna take.” That sentence leaves your mouth as fast as lightning strikes the Earth’s outermost crust. 
To other people, your reply would’ve been seen as impolite but to you and everyone at the firm, it was just that ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get you anywhere in a case. Especially when so much is at stake.
“I won’t be long Gwen. Tell Blair and she’ll go interview the friend.”
Once you arrive at the White House you are led to Timo’s office. It’s nice and spacious, with a window that overlooks a garden. Nellie’s garden. A sour taste forms in your mouth. The garden is small, not as big as Jacqueline Kennedy’s garden but Nellie insisted she needed her own. You were told moments ago that she’d be attending this “meeting” and as much as you dislike it, you can’t help but feel empathy for Nellie. She was nothing but nice to you when Nico hired you as the manager for his campaign. It sucked most that you went not even a month later you started sleeping with her husband. 
The combined noises of clothes rustling and heavy breaths consume the aura of the small hotel room. It’s unbelievable how an innocent dinner between two ‘colleagues’ can turn outright sexual within two hours, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it was the two glasses of cabernet sauvignon that your unconscious level of operation had convinced you to drink. 
Nico places open-mouthed kisses from behind your ear, down to the spot on your breast that the black lace push-up bra doesn’t cover. The white ironed shirt, that had been covering your bra, had been tossed over your head about 15 minutes ago and the black midi skirt was currently being tugged down your hips. As for Nico, all to go was the baby blue dress shirt he wore, and the black tie. Which had been taken off right when the two of you entered the room. His dark navy blue pants remained on the list of clothes that needed to be discarded.  
You take a second to admire Nico’s disheveled hair. The thought of pulling it with your fingers when he whispers sweet nothing’s into your core flashes across your mind. Nico cuts off that thought once his lips make contact with yours. It’s messy and filled with need. The months of longing stares, mainly from him, were finally catching up. You take notice that your black skirt is now pooled at your feet. You take a step out of them, in a haze, the action bringing you closer to Nico. He steadies you by placing his hands on your hips. His fingertips graze the matching black lace panties you paired with your bra. He smirks into the kiss at the thought of you planning it out. 
Nico takes small steps, notifying you to do the same but backward, and guides you to the small light wooden desk against the wall opposite of the bed. The back of your thighs hit the desk and with a swift motion, Nico grabs you at the waist and sets you to sit on top of it. A quick gasp escapes your naturally pouty lips and with that, Nico gets on his knees. 
Timo snaps you out of that thought fairly quickly, “Well hello, long time no see!”
He’s being sarcastic, but you waste no time to get to the point. 
“I was told Nellie was going to be here. She knows about this?”
Timo nods, acknowledging your words, and replies, “It’s not like how it was during the election. The isolation of the White House bonded them, their marriage is as strong as ever.” 
Before you can react to Timos statement, Nellie comes barging into the room. 
“Y/N!” 
You fake a smile, deep down you could never hate Nellie. No matter how hard you try. “Nellie, hi! How are you doing?!” Faking your enthusiastic response, you can’t help but feel guilty. It wasn’t hard to read Nellie, so you could tell she missed your presence around in the White House. Once Nellie reaches you she engulfs you in a heartwarming hug. She rubs your back and soaks in the moment, reminiscing an old friendship.
You’re the first to step away and once you create a small fragment of distance, Nellie answers your question.
“I’m doing well! It’s taking some time getting used to you not being here but I’m managing. How’s the firm?”
“We’re doing well over there. It’s been busy but I like being occupied…can never get enough of it.” You chuckle at the tiny comment you make and Nellie goes to carry the conversation but comes to a halt when the double doors to Timo’s office open once again. 
You told yourself, on the drive over to the White House, that you would keep things strictly professional but Nico always managed to make that very hard. Not only that, you still deeply cared for the man and he did the same as well. But the moment you saw his face everything you had prepared yourself for had expeditiously faded away. You can’t even process the moment, that he’s here and physically in front of you until he’s shaking your hand. 
The last time you saw Nico was at a charity gala in late June. Five months after you left. You only managed to stay for an hour until everything felt overwhelming. Your chest felt like it was being compressed by an unseen entity, and bile was rising in your throat. Nico had tried his best to talk to you but with Nellie by his side and her pregnancy rumors, he couldn’t. It broke his heart when he saw the tears in your eyes. You’d felt betrayed but also knew that being the President’s mistress meant that you never came first. Even if he lied to you and said that you did. 
“Y/N, It’s good to see you.” He’s keeping it simple. He can’t show too much vulnerability, there are still two people in the room. 
“Likewise, Mr. President.” You drop your hand first from the handshake and look closely at Nico. He shaved two days ago, you can tell by the stubble sitting on the lower half of his face. It has just grown enough to the point where if he could get on his knees in front of you, you’d feel it scratch your inner thighs. 
“Shall we take a walk?” Timo kindly suggests. 
The three of you decide to chat in Jacqueline Kennedy Garden. With the company of two secret service members but you don’t mind. 
It may be January but the pansies are still in season. You walk up and admire the some that are purple. You notice that in the outer part of the petal, they’re royal purple, but towards the center, they’re light purple - almost a lilac color. That would be a nice color for a wedding. You’re too busy admiring the flowers that don’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching until the person has already reached you. It’s Nico. You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. He clears his throat before starting the conversation with you. 
“I know you have your hands full with the Sully St. James situation so, thank you for doing this, for me.” He turns to look at you. God you’ve missed him. 
Timo walks up behind you and the president, the two secret service agents aren’t too far behind. He pulls out a beige file folder and speaks. 
“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt.” You take hold of the folder and open it up. 
“I know.” 
“Well if you let me finish- anyways, she’s 25. I’ve heard rumors that she might be talking.” Timo states and looks off into the distance. It’s nice and sunny outside, but not even for it to take the edge off the cold. You take a look at what she looks like. She must be new, or at least got hired after you resigned. She’s cute but looking at her makes you feel nauseated. You push that feeling aside, it’s best at what you do. 
“But you can’t fire her. At least not without a shit show going off.” Both Timo and Nico nod. Nico has yet to say anything. You find it odd but push that thought aside. You know Nico wouldn’t do this. 
“Look, she hasn’t gone to the press, so best shut it down before she opens her mouth.” Timo’s phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call. It’s just you and Nico. A part of you doesn’t want to ask him the long-awaited question but you still do it anyways.
“I have to ask, did you do it?” You look up at him for the first time after reaching the garden. All you see are his eyes, they’re identical to the color of the way he takes his coffee. 
“No. I would never do that.” Nico pauses but doesn’t break the eye contact. You’re starting to feel light-headed. Your heart wants to believe him but there’s someone in your ear screaming that he isn’t telling the truth. 
“You’ve known me for a long time. Most of my time has been spent with you. You know I would never, ever fall for some girl. You know there’s only one girl I truly love.” He accentuates the last sentence. Only you know he’s talking about you. It’s a secret embedded between the two of you. You feel warm, not the bad kind, but the warm and comfy kind. He knows you need reassurance, he knows you think he’s lying, and he knows that if he did do it, it would be unforgivable. It feels like time is passing by slowly, you’re lost in his pools of melted chocolate-like irises. He never once, looked away. He’s telling the truth. 
“We’re due to be back now!” Looking back, you see Timo. He’s about 15 feet away, but he’s walking towards both Nico and you. 
“I’ll handle it. Consider it handled.” You look away. A burning sensation hits the back of your eye sockets. You feel like crying but you won’t let the tears fall.
Once Timo reaches you he wraps his arms around you and the President’s shoulders. 
“The band is back together!”
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One hour. One hour is how much time you had given Gwen to find anything and everything about Vanessa Wyatt and boy did she find something. 
Gwen walks beside you, to your left. The pace you’ve set is fast, it wasn’t like you had all day. You had a firm to run and a man’s destiny in your hands. Vanessa Wyatt was just a fork in the road. You had a plan and with enough convincing, she’d end up on a bus to Wisconsin in the morning.
“You’re acting as my witness. Just shut up and listen to what I say. Do not engage with her.” Both you and Gwen had been following Vanessa around Easy Potomac Park for approximately seven minutes. You took immediate notice that she was accompanied by her dog, a golden retriever. Gwen had whispered something about it being adorable, to you it was an amazing conversation starter, a way to get in, and a vulnerability point for Vanessa. 
Vanessa’s quick to take a seat on a bench, overlooking the Potomac River. You waste no time to walk up to her and Gwen follows suit. “What a cute dog! Golden Retriever?” 
Vanessa takes the bait like a fish dumb enough to take a worm that’s on a fish hook. You’ve already got her right where you want her and you’ve only spoken six words. 
“Yeah haha! His name is Thomas Jefferson, like the President, it’s lame I know! But it suits him surprisingly.” The thought of how naive she is crosses your mind. Was she like that with Nico? You take a seat next to her before carrying on the conversation.
“Vanessa, it would be a mistake to think that there will be no consequences to you telling lies about the President.” Her face falls almost immediately. Gwen gives you a look. Almost like she was surprised herself, she was least expecting you to mention the so-called “affair” this early on in the conversation. To your dismay, Vanessa doesn’t make an effort to start running away yet. Stupid girl. Rather instead she questions you. 
“I never told you my name. Who are you?” She finally turns to get a good look at you. Vanessa notices the pale, off-white pantsuit that’s on your body. It fits you to a tee. 
“My name is Y/N.” You pause for a brief moment then continue your lecture to the younger girl, “And I want to make it clear that I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here because I’m a
concerned citizen.” Vanessa looks away, tears threatening to fall on her plump, pinky cheeks. She isn’t wearing anything to keep her warm besides a thin coat. 
She mutters another question. “What do you want?” 
Your response leaves your mouth rapidly. “I came to warn you. A girl like you can’t win something like this. In, employment your face will be everywhere. And by everywhere I mean tabloids, newspapers, social media, local news. People are going to associate you with a sex scandal. All kinds of information about you will become available to the press in a heartbeat. For example, the 22 sexual partners you’ve had? What about that case of gonorrhea? Oh and let’s not forget your mothers two year stay at Bedford Hospital.” Everything you say comes out nonchalantly. You pause and take a look at the younger brunette, waiting for a response but she says nothing. You take it as a sign to continue. 
“That’s what I thought. It’s information like that, that could ruin everything for you.” Both you and Gwen take notice of Vanessa. The tears that were threatening to fall, are now halfway down her cheeks. Gwen’s heart breaks for the girl but deep down knows it’s for the best. You, however, could care less. Situations like this, never end up good for the woman involved. 
“He said he loved me. He gave me this dog.” Vanessa manages to utter while shaking her head. Her world feels like it’s falling apart and you stand at the altar watching it happen. 
“You see, it’s lies like those that could hurt you when said to other people. People not as nice as me. Here let me give you some advice, hand in your resignation, pack a bag and your dog, get out of this town, maybe in Wisconsin, and start over. Never look back.” 
You’ve managed to move closer to Vanessa. It’s not a lot but you’re still testing the waters. If you were to ask Gwen, she’s still surprised that Vanessa’s still sitting there. Personally, Gwen would have fled a long time ago. The younger brunette to your right, takes a deep sigh and begs, “Why are you doing this to me?” I’m a good person!” You get the urge to laugh in her face. It doesn’t matter if you’re nice or not, people love to ruin people. She should’ve known this by now. A girl this naive should not be in a town like this.
“You want to know who was also a good person?” You question her and continue, “Monica Lewinsky. And she was telling the truth. But she still got destroyed.” You say it casually and Vanessa doesn’t appreciate it, in the next millisecond, she grabs her dog’s leash and hurries away. Gwen is still standing, she’s shocked, to say the least. 
Turning to Gwen, you start to state, “If you get subpoenaed in front of a grand jury, you can testify as an officer of the court that I was working on my own. I didn’t blackmail or threaten her. If you don’t get subpoenaed, then this never happened.” You walk in the other direction from Vanessa. Gwen takes a moment to follow suit and once you hear Gwen’s footsteps, you take your cell phone out of your coat pocket to dial. 
“It’s handled.”
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You are typing away on your keyboard, answering some emails when the doors to your office fly open. It’s Blair and she’s rushing in. You can tell her her brain is going 100 miles per hour when she cheers, “Paige is a whore! She’s a whore!” You shake your head and smile in return, expecting her to say more, and that she does. 
“I had Kurt hack into her message log and she had HUNDREDS and I mean HUNDREDS of text messages with this guy named Tom Henderson. And I know what you’re going to say ‘Go interview him then’ We’ll that’s what I did while you were gone doing god knows what!” She’s starting to get off track but you don’t mind. Blair was a chatterbox at heart. 
“Good news is that Tom spilled his guts the minute I went to ask questions, but he has an air-tight alibi. He was working as a bouncer at a club at the time of the murder. There has got to be like 100 witnesses.” You nod your head and before you can tell Blair anything she continues, again. 
“Oh my god! How could I forget?! Henderson claims that Sully knew that he was sleeping with  his girlfriend.” With that, you waste no time to get out of your chair, and before you can even take a step Neil comes strutting into the room. 
“Even worse news, the gun found in the murder has Sully’s fingerprints all over it. It gives him means.” A small “fuck!” leaves your mouth and you dash towards the double doors that connect your office and another. Pushing open the door, you waste no time to start interrogating Sully. 
“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom Henderson?!” You point your finger at him like a mom scolding her child. Sully replies stupidly, “What?”
“Did. You. Know?” Accentuating every word in the question causes Sully to get irritated.
“I hired you! You can’t come in here and talk-” Sully’s cut off by Neil almost immediately. You let him overpower the situation by walking away. Your mind is running, trying to think what the possibilities could be.
“Yes, she can! She can do whatever the hell she wants! Without her, you would be in jail right now!” Things are starting to escalate quickly between you three. Blair is just observing what’s happening. You decided to ask one more time even though you hate repeating yourself. 
“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom?” The tone that you ask him is softer, things are starting to get real and if you don’t get to the bottom of this, Sully could be going to jail for 20 years to life.
Sully answers your question, “Yes, but I didn’t kill her!” Your mind shuts everything out once he answers your question. Neil and Blair start conducting a plan that you have no care for right now. Deciding to walk away from all the chaos, you manage to bump into the one person you least expect. Vanessa, with Gwen following behind. 
“Oh, what the hell!”
“I want you to give him a message!” You stare Gwen down, scolding her with your eyes for even letting Vanessa in, in the first place. 
“That is not appropriate.” You take ahold of Vanessa’s upper left bicep, Gwen the other, and quickly guide her out of the firm. She tries to go with a fight but your grip doesn’t let her escape. You open the front door to the firm, giving Vanessa access to leave but she makes it clear that you hear what she has to say. “Not appropriate? You came to me and I know he sent you! I know you can give him a message! I’m telling the truth! I am!” 
“This conversation is over. Please leave.”
You’re barely coming down with your high from the previous chaos when David Rosen, the US attorney general walks into your building. 
“Times up, Y/N. I have a warrant.” He’s holding up white papers, stapled together. He’s here to take Sully into custody but luckily for you, David arrived earlier than expected. 
“I still have 40 minutes.” You bark at David, taking a look at your watch. Turning your back to him, you reach the conference doors.
“You can wait in the lobby by all means.” You suggest to David. Maybe he’ll listen to you once and for all. 
“Fine, but in 40 minutes I want Sully St. James in custody.” He huffs out. 
Meanwhile, you try to find Gwen. Once you see her in the conference room you have her call Blair, to let her know that you’ve officially been invaded and time is running out to find Sully a viable alibi. 
Blair, Neil, and Kurt walk through the front doors exactly 7 minutes before David is supposed to be arrested. Blair comes in hot, Neil and Kurt trailing behind her. She’s holding a flash drive and gives you a rundown of what that flash drive material contains. You take no longer than 3 seconds to head your way to the conference room where Sully St. James is currently seated. You tread the water lightly, not wanting to anger him when approaching the situation. 
“We don’t have much time, Sully,” you start with, “the police are here so I need you to listen.” Blair, Kurt, Neil, and Gwen slowly enter the room with you. Most of the time, when debriefing with a client, there’s always someone else with you. In this case, all of them. 
“We were able to verify your alibi.” Sully’s reaction doesn’t surprise you. Confusion shadows over his face. Almost like he didn’t even know how or who verified his alibi. 
“You were?” He looks around the room after he questions you. All eyes are on him and everyone can tell that he’s realizing that his secret is no secret anymore. You nod in response to his question. 
“That’s.. that’s a good thing, right?” He’s playing dumb and you’re catching along. You open your mouth to start a lecture. 
“Sully, you’re the most decorated hero since the Vietnam War, you come from a family of well-respected soldiers, you make your living giving speeches for the conservative right, and you’ve said over and over, that Paige was your best friend. Not your lover.” Your eyes never leave him during the duration of your speech, but when they do you signal Blair to turn on the TV and plug the flash drive into it. Once she does, a video starts to play. It’s from a security camera at an ATM, that so happened to be next to the bar Sully had been seen at before the murder. In the video, Sully St. James is seen standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, pacing. He’s waiting for someone. Just on cue, a man in his mid to late 20s is seen approaching Sully. Once he gets his hands on Sully, he kisses him with passion. Almost like lovers who are reuniting for the first time after months of being apart. The room is silent up until the video shows the two grown men kissing. Sully’s breath starts to pick up, he’s infuriated. 
“Paige knew, didn’t she?” You already knew the answer to that but still needed the clarification. You were never one to go based on assumptions. Sully doesn’t respond so you continue, “She knew you were gay, the two of you had a deal.” Sully speaks up for the first time in 3 minutes. 
“You can’t show anyone that.” Disregarding what he said, you ask, “I need the name of the man that you were kissing.”
“Over my dead body! I serve my country. I honor the uniform! I am a conservative man. Everything I stand for is anti-gay. I am the deacon of my church! They’re talking about me running for Congress one day. I’m a hero. I can’t be gay.” His demeanor starts off hostile but then shuts down and he manages to whisper the last remark. 
“But you are. This is who you are.” You point to the TV which had been paused at a time frame where Sully and his secret lover were engaged in a kiss. “This is your alibi. Let us help you.” You walk over to the couch that Sully is seated at and crouch next to him. You and Sully are the only two who have spoken a word so far. Everyone else is watching the scene unfold in front of their eyes. 
Sully stands up straight and looks ahead of him. With one small word, he answers you. 
“No.” You stand, but before you can mutter a word he turns around and heads out the conference room doors. You don’t pay attention as to whether everyone follows you but you follow Sully out. Demanding him to wait but to no avail, he doesn’t listen. Once he opens the firm’s front doors, he is met with David Rosen. 
The bright ceiling lights are the cause of the forming headache across your temples. To say that everything that happened in the past 28 hours is ridiculous would be an understatement. Neil and Blair are at the police station with you. By the time Sully St. James had his mugshot taken, you got a text message from Gwen. You managed to mutter an ‘I have to go’ and frantically left. Having left instructions for Neil and Blair just in case anything happened with Sully. 
Being told, by Gwen, that Vanessa Wyatt was in the hospital and she was going to see her was just the cherry on top. You wasted no time to get there as fast as you could. It was 7 pm by the time you entered the hospital door, exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Getting into bed sounds much better than having sex. 
Gwen is standing outside of Vanessa’s hospital room when you get there. You greet her then immediately ask, “What happened?” You take a look at Gwen and she genuinely seems worried for the girl who’s in the hospital bed, clearly sedated. 
Gwen explains, “She slashed her wrists. There’s no press lurking around but one of the nurses told me her dad’s flying in from Michigan.” 
You double-check with Gwen, just to make sure that there is no possible threat. “No nurses or doctors, about anything?” Gwen shakes her head, her ponytail moving along with her head, and responds shortly. 
“Just to me.”
“Good stay with her.” You turn to leave, regretting to have even come in the first place. A simple phone call would have been fine. Before you take a step Gwen takes ahold of your upper arm and blurted your name. 
“Y/N! You told me to trust my gut when I first got hired, and now my gut is telling me that she is telling the truth-” You cut off Gwen to share what you think. 
“She’s not.” You keep it short and sweet. Nico told you that he didn’t do it and you believe him. Your heart believes him. He said he loved you and you were the only girl he’s ever loved. 
“I know the President, Gwen. He wouldn’t do this.” You’re starting to become stern since Gwen is being persistent about something that could never, ever possibly be true. 
“I just find it weird that she was going on and on about how there’s this secret room off the Oval Office where they’ve met, and I’ve read about the White House. There is a little room.”
You waste no time to state the obvious. “If you read it, she read it. People are crazy Gwen. They love to get fixated on famous people and stalk them.” 
“But I don’t think she’s crazy.” If you didn’t have any love for Gwen you probably would’ve smacked her for continuing to run her mouth. Since you do care for her deeply, you demand her to tell you why she thinks that. “Why?”
“Okay, she tried to take her life but she didn’t want to die. She called you right after she did it because she wanted him to find out she was hurt and come see her. She thought he would do that.” Gwen rambles everything out in one go as if she’s already rehearsed this conversation in her head. 
“Gwen-”
“She was going on and on about how she thought he’d come to see her and call her some stupid little German word.” You start to doze off but your ears perk up like a dog that hears a siren from a mile away when she mentions the word German. 
“What?” 
Gwen’s face scrunches up and tilts her head to the side at your remark. She’s questioning you and doesn’t even need to open her mouth. 
“Repeat yourself.” You try to tell yourself that you heard something completely different. How pathetic. 
“Oh! He’d call her a German word, she said it means treasure or something. Why does it ma-” You cancel out the rest of Gwen’s sentence and scurry away. Your legs start working independently and lead you down the hospital corridor. Gwen calls out your name in response, but you pay no mind to it. The pit in your stomach is probably the size of a football and it doesn’t help that bile is rising in your throat and everything feels hazy. Betrayal wasn’t something new to you but coming from someone who expected the same loyalty from you was gutwrenching.
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Sometimes you think it’s crazy how much authority you still have in the White House because you simply do not work there anymore. Nonetheless, it comes in handy, in instances like these. Rose, the President’s Secretary, leads you the way into the Oval Office in a matter of seconds. It didn’t take much convincing, just a quick “It’s an emergency”. Once Rose opens the first of 3 doors that connect the Oval Office to the White House, you step inside. Walking up to the set of couches that sit in the middle of the room, to set your purse down, you notice Nico isn’t at his desk. Matter of fact he isn’t anywhere in the room. With that, you question Rose about Nico’s whereabouts.
“Where is he?” You expect her to go into detail, whether it’s a meeting or at dinner with Nellie. But Rose never does. Instead, she gives a simple answer. 
“It’ll just be a moment.” With that, Rose walks out and shuts the door behind her. 
It doesn’t take long for Nico to come walking through the door, Timo trailing right behind, but when he does, you notice his attire. He’s wearing a bowtie. Which only means he has something important going on. 
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Disregarding his question, you plea to him with your eyes. He notices the quiver of your lip and how tears threaten to leave your eyes. Nico senses something is up. 
“We’re gonna need the room, please.” He demands Timo. Nico’s eyes never leave yours. Almost as if there is a magnetic pull to the two of you. Timo stands there dumbfoundedly and questions the President. 
“But, Nico you have to give that toast to the President of Mexico in 10 minutes. Maybe this could wait until after?” Nico’s eyes finally leave yours. He turns to Timo and repeats himself. 
“I said we need the room,” Nico demands almost instantly. That being so, Timo lowers his head, and his hand reaches to the door handle so he can close the door behind him. Once Nico hears the click of the door shutting fully closed he whispers your name. You take no time to finally repeat the word you know Gwen was talking about. 
“Schatzli, huh?” The word rolls off your tongue as if it’s venom. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and never be seen again. Nico turns to you and you repeat the word of endorsement like it’s a chant. You’re angry and Nico knows it. With that, Nico points up ahead. There sits a security camera that overlooks the majority of the room. Watching your every move. Nico knows he can’t have a conversation about Vanessa knowing he’s being recorded. Good thing he was a smart man. During the first week after his inauguration, he managed to find out that the camera doesn’t record past his desk. So the pair of you had rendezvous against the large crystalline window that overlooks Nellie’s garden and a patio. Countless times. 
Nico guides you to stand in front of the window with a simple, “Come here.” To that, you obey. As to why? You don’t even know the answer to that considering all you see is rage. You reach him, keeping your distance but still out of the security camera’s view. Disgust and humiliation still sits on your face, never intended to leave soon. 
Nico is the first to speak amongst you two. “You left me.” He can’t even look you in the eye when he finally admits the truth. A man who lies is always a coward. 
“Because you are married! You said you wanted to dedicate yourself to your marriage! I wanted you to be a better man and be the man that I campaigned for-” Nico cuts you off by slowly taking steps towards you. You don’t need to be a genius to know what he’s doing. 
“Do not touch me.” You planned for it to come out stern but ended up sounding like a hurt duckling. But that you were. The look in Nico’s eye confirms that he was not listening to you. Instead of him pleading for you to hear him out, he steps even closer. Once he reaches you, his hands rest upon your hips. His body aching to make contact with yours. Your body is pressed up against the large window with another step. Nico’s eyes stare down at you, faces only mere inches apart. The pair of you already know where the next thing leads to but you’re not letting him go that easily.
Before his lips can make contact with yours, you push at his chest to get him off of you. Putting all force you can conjure into the shove. You turn around and before you can think your right hand makes contact with his left cheek with a hard smack!
“I believed you! You clouded my judgment! I wanted to believe you because I love you and THIS is what you do to me? She tried to kill herself! Did you know she’s lying in a hospital bed because she slashed her wrists open? I destroyed that girl-” Everything happens too fast and you can’t even see through the tears that started falling just moments ago. Nico finally dared to walk up to you and kiss you. His right hand has ahold of the back of your neck. While the other is on your upper arm, keeping you in place. It takes less than a second for you to come to terms with what’s happening. As mad as you are at Nico, you couldn’t help but feel the need to return the kiss. Your internal dialogue screams at you to stop. To step away and never talk to him again. 
The kiss is slow and passionate, Nico doesn’t want to rush into anything further because he knows you won’t hesitate to take a step back and slap him again. You had the balls no one ever did. Before Nico can gain access to your mouth with his tongue, one of the doors is swung open. 
“I just want to let you know that we can hear you yelling.” By the time Timo shuts the door, Nico and you have created a small fragment of distance away from each other. The satin pinky nude lipstick you wore, transferred onto Nico’s lips. Your hair is a bit disheveled and the pair of you are out of breath. Timo was a smart man so it didn’t take much for him to recognize what was happening behind closed doors. Timo clears his throat before he speaks. 
“Mr. President, I recommended you go wash up.” Timo puts his hands in his pockets and refuses to look you in the eye. 
“Timo-”
“No. You have lipstick on your mouth. You have a toast to give. Go. Now.” With that, Nico obeys and leaves the room, not even looking back towards you. Timo and you bask in a moment of silence. You stand there like a doe who has yet to learn how to walk. The feeling of embarrassment is an understatement to say at least. In times like these, where Timo puts his foot down, it makes you feel like a child being scolded for writing on the wall with markers. 
Timo walks up to the President’s desk and admires the picture he has of the three of you. It was the day of Nico’s inauguration, the picture was taken right after Nico’s speech. Timo wishes things could go back to the way they were. 
“Oh mein gott,” Timo mutters under his breath. After the past two years of knowing Timo, you’d expect that he knew about the affair. 
“You didn’t know? He tells you everything.” You scoff. Nico and Timo are close. Like brothers, who manage to piss each other off all day every day but that doesn’t get in the way of Nico telling Timo every personal detail that goes on in his life. 
“He didn’t tell me this.” He shakes his head and looks down at his feet. 
You wipe a tear that cascades down your left cheek and  quickly mutter, “Because it didn’t matter.” In disbelief, you walk towards the couch, reaching for your purse. Feeling the sudden need to get out of the one place you do not wish to be at. Timo tries to grab at your wrist, tries to talk you into staying but you’re too fast enough for him to get a good grip. Once you reach the door, you adjust your purse and push the straps up against your shoulder blade. You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to stay. Alas, your right hand makes contact with the gold door knob and you twist and push the door open. With every last bit of courage you have, you step out of the Oval Office with your head up high. You’ve got a man to get out of jail.
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httpsserene · 1 year ago
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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!
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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss
to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!
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lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 
he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.
when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric. 
“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax. 
you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”
frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion. 
he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”
“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”
lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”
you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.
“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”
lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”
you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”
lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.
lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.” 
lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.
in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.
“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“
you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband. 
there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling. 
lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm. 
lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.
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machveil · 4 months ago
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Today’s thought:
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (except for our marriage that part is very much coming home with us) scenario:
Idk, just thinking about the various guys going out to party in Vegas (maybe after a lengthy job being successful, maybe a birthday or something) only to wake up married (like actually legally binding married, not just a joke wedding officiated by Elvis) to the person they’ve been eyeing for a while now, not having the slightest idea what happened the previous night.
-🐸
Also I saw that art, I need yall to know I almost shrieked in the middle of the very quiet lab I work in.
[post writing note: so many words… very sleepy now] oh, you know I have to include Horangi in a Vegas fic🎲ヽ(´▽`)/🃏✨
Vegas Wedding Bells
what’s the worse that can happen after celebrating in Vegas? going back to spend your honeymoon at base? Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin CW: fem!reader, getting married while intoxicated, suggestive
Simon “Ghost” Riley:
the dull ache in his head was the first thing he noticed as he woke up, bright beams of light aggravating a headache as he groans. the body tucked against him was the second thing he noticed, bare skin warmed by bare skin. that caught his attention
when Johnny decided Simon - the birthday boy - needed to loosen up for his special day he scoffed, “‘M turnin’ thirty-two, Soap. I don’t do birthday parties.”. he thought that all the way to America, grumbling when the team boarded the plane. his two saving graces were getting an aisle seat and sitting next to you
“Ghost, it’s not that bad.”, you chuckle, watching as he crosses his arms - for a man that large and intimidating, he was acting like a pouting child. “Could be havin’ a beer at the pub.”, he remarks, eyebrows knit as someone’s carry-on bumps his shoulder, “Soap’s lucky I ‘aven’t wrung his neck.”
the flight itself wasn’t so bad, no crying children or loud snoring. by the time the flight landed at Harry Reid it was dark out, Johnny dragging everyone towards the hotel. you barely had time to shower and change before you were wrangled out to a casino. “Soap, m’not gamblin’.”, Simon huffed, looming next to the Scot as they passed row after row of slot machines
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Simon held true to his word - he didn’t gamble. he got shitfaced
the night went by in slow motion, bleary eyes and drunken laughter ringing throughout the group. Simon didn’t know when it happened - when he got separated from the group, when he took your hand in his and left the building. he didn’t remember whisking you away to the nearest church - a real church, he didn’t remember gruffly asking for someone to officiate the sudden ceremony. he definitely didn’t remember shaking down some poor stranger on the street to be your witness, “Gotta— we gotta ‘ave someone watch… yeah? I’ll uh— I’ll grab someone, lovie.”
but, as you moved in his arms, the glint of a pretty little gem on your finger had his eyes widening. moving slowly, trying not to wake you, he lifts he own hand - a gold band snug against his ring finger. it’s not like you weren’t close to Simon, quite the opposite
he’d been meaning to ask you out for a few months, never quite working up the nerve to. now? he’s cussing himself out in his head - married before the first date, drunken vows. your back is to his chest, arms cradling a pillow as you sleep. it’s only when you yawn and shift in his arms does he completely freeze, your tired eyes looking up at him
it doesn’t help when you snuggle up to him, eyes closing as you tuck yourself against his chest. heart hammering, he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it. at a loss for words, his gaze travels back to his ring adorned finger - fuck, would you be pissed when you realize? he’s liked you for so long and he blows it by marrying you in Vegas?
“Simon?”, you murmur, turning in his arms, chest to chest - still skin to skin, “What time is it?”, a groan leaving your throat as the sun peaks out from behind his hotel room’s curtains. he can’t bring himself to look down, your bare chest to his. when he tries to shift back a little, aiming to sit up, does he realize a third thing - when had he taken off his mask?
dirty blonde, close-cropped hair messy against his pillow. scarred skin bare for your view. nervous brown eyes looking down at your sleepy form
he doesn’t know what to say, too much information being realized all at once. it doesn’t help when you hum softly, rubbing the corner of your eye, soft-spoken words leaving your lips - his cheeks heating up and hands a little sweaty at your words
“S’not nice to ignore the missus, Simon.”, you say, voice raspy with exhaustion
John “Soap” MacTavish:
it was a short deployment, but it had TF141 scrambling to stay alive - practically a week in hell. a hail of gunfire on Tuesday, a close call Wednesday, the group getting separated for two days. it was a miracle that everyone made it back in one piece with just scrapes and bruises
it was a mumbled joke - you didn’t think it would be taken seriously, “We’re lucky as hell, should take a trip to Vegas, huh?”. despite the aching muscles the group sustained, bumps and bruises, you were swept away to an airport. it was too early for this, but it was too late to back out - Price and his need to get to the airport at four in the morning
“S’not that bad, bonnie.”, Johnny shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he tucked you against his side. between Johnny and Kyle’s chipper mood, Simon’s grumbling, and Price double checking passports and tickets, you were content to just go along, “Soap, I love you, but it’s too early for this.”
he laughed, a little too loud for the early morning crowd - you didn’t catch the way his cheeks heated up though. “Lighten up, mo ghaol.”, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips when he heard you confusingly mutter, “Mo ghaol?”, under your breath. he’d tell you what that meant in the future
the flight itself was fine, Johnny sat behind you. he made it a little game - passing notes up to you from between the chairs, giving the back of your seat a nudge every once in a while. when he passed out halfway through the flight you caught a couple hours of peace… if you could ignore his snoring
by the time the plane landed and everyone was settling down in the hotel, Johnny was raring to go. quick knocks on your door followed by him calling your name - a little too loud for this time of night
Kyle was busy unpacking while Simon and Price had retired to bed - poor John, all alone and left to his own devices. he already had a plan, taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the hotel. a fun night of bar hopping and getting tipsy, his treat
Johnny was confused when he woke up in a hotel room - definitely not the one either of you checked into with the group— wait, what’re you doing wedged against his side? he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his temple making him stop. how much did he drink? he was at a bar with you, then he blinked and woke up here
bringing his hand up to rub his face, Johnny pauses when he feels cool metal touch his cheek. pulling his hand back a little, his eyebrows shoot up when he sees the ring on his finger - freezing when he remembers— oh no
he’s sitting up quickly, the pain in his head be damned. looking down at you, oh, you looked so peaceful, his breath hitches. there on your cute little ring finger, a matching gold band with a pretty little gemstone. “Ah— shit.”, he mumbles, mind a little fuzzy as snippets of the night come to the forefront of his mind
married - legally wed at the church around the corner. some dingy little say-the-vows wedding house wouldn’t do for you. Johnny, sweeping you both off in a drunken stupor, insisted that you deserved a real, good old fashioned church wedding… not before swinging into a jewelry shop
sloppy vows and dopey smiles exchanged, he was carrying you out the door. never made it back to the hotel Price booked - he couldn’t remember which way it was. instead, Johnny booked an overpriced honeymoon suite somewhere else - champagne bottle cracked open as he kissed your cheek
and now he’s looking down at you as you stir, tired eyes blinking open. it’s not like he regrets marrying you - he would love to marry you, he just wish he had gotten to the dating bit first. there was an awkward silence as you slowly took in the scene - Johnny, his shirt tossed somewhere in a forgotten corner, seated next to you in bed. an unfamiliar, albeit light, weight to your ring finger
when you finally meet his gaze, his grins - a slight, nervous glint in his eyes as you sit up too. “Ah— we— I mean, didnae think that—“, he coughs, stumbling over his words, trying to find something to say. married to one of his closest friends in Vegas of all places, he’s wracking his brain for a coherent sentence - eyes wide when you look down at your newly gilded finger
“Jumping the gun on getting married, huh?”, you smile, voice sleepy as you glance up at him. pausing, your eyebrows knit slightly as you glance around, “Where exactly are we, John?”
König:
König, for all his cockiness and bravado on duty as a Colonel, was less than thrilled to be flying to Vegas. was he proud of his teammates on their latest deployment? of course, did he want to be crammed in a small airplane seat with no leg room? absolutely not
being flown in and out of deployments is one thing, fitting himself in a seat meant for someone half his size was another. sniper hood replaced with a black medical mask and baseball cap, he was putting up with the flight for his friends - and you. was he going to spend money in Vegas? not if he could help it, “Nein, gambling is a waste of money. You can lose your own savings, Horangi.”, he scoffed, turning down the offer to bet when they landed
instead, König spent a majority of the night in a booth with you - drinking and watching your fellow teammates lose money. it wasn’t long before the multiple fruity cocktails got to König, a large hand on the small of your back as he ushered you outside the casino
the pounding in his head woke him up, throat dry and eyes bleary. the last thing he remembered was laughing with you on the streets of Vegas. as he moved to shift, to tug the covers up and hide against his pillow, he paused - registering the small hand on his chest, the warmth tucked against his side
swallowing, he glances down. he nearly chokes on his spit when he sees you sleeping against him, wedged between his body and the covers. headache suddenly forgotten, his mind swirls with different thoughts - had he slept with you? had you clung to him all night? are you going to be disgusted with him when you wake up? did you always have that ring on your finger—
wait. oh no
gaze glued to the ring on your finger - beautiful gem snug on the band - König’s mind suddenly goes blank. when he raises his own hand only to see a matching ring all those questions flood back as his chest tightens
surely you both hadn’t drank that much. he can barely remember leaving the casino though, he doesn’t remember whisking you away to a church - saying slurred vows and promises to each other. what’s worse? you weren’t together to begin with
sure, König has been pining for you, yearning to call you his and vice versa. to be married now? there’s butterflies in his stomach, but his chest is tight with anxiety. you were close colleagues, closer friends, and he carried you back to the hotel as his bride? you were going to kill him when you woke up, he was sure
when you mumbled something he froze, muscles tense as you hugged him closer. “Mm, König?”, sleepy voice coated with raspiness, it feels like the wind got knocked out of him, “König?”. his eyes darted down to meet yours, hands shaky as they clutch the sheets
“Ah— ja, Maus?”, voice strained, he awkwardly glances away. when he feels you cuddle up to his side, a small peck placed to his chest, he’s sure he’s died - or maybe he’s still asleep, blacked out from the booze. “You’re so warm.”, your voice, small and sweet, has him dizzy before he realizes what you’ve said
dead silent, he can’t help the flustered feeling in his heart, cheeks heating up. maybe everything can be normal? sure, you’re married, but— but what if you just ignored that? yeah, maybe König won’t lose you when you fully realize what’s happened… probably not, but the thought is nice
it’s a few minutes before you speak again, he’s sure the silence is comfortable for you - he’s overthinking what’s happened, what happens next, what happens on the flight back, what happens—
“Can’t wait to wake up every day like this.”, you sleepily murmur. it has König’s mind going silent - every day? you wanted to wake up with him every day—
Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:
he really shouldn’t gamble. he’s shit at it, he doesn’t want to risk owing more than he can pay, but damnit! it’s Las Vegas - how can he not gamble? the city was practically made for him. lights, dice, cards, cash? like a moth to the flame, can you blame Horangi when he drags you there for his birthday?
sure, he’s been to the States before, but Sin City? he’s never had a reason to go to Nevada, but a weekend get away to celebrate? now that’s an excuse to call and bluff. it was a little hard to get everyone onboard with the idea - as much as the team enjoyed a poker night, flying to Vegas to lose money was definitely… eyebrow raising. but, when it’s for a birthday, they can suck it up and play along
the night went by quick, a mixture of card games and drinking as the group paraded behind Horangi, letting him lead them from table to table. at some point they stopped at a bar, liquor flowing and shots passed out - Horangi could hardly move when he woke up. the hangover that hit him was devastating, an uncomfortable ache behind his temple
grumbling curses as light peaked out from behind the curtains, Horangi found himself unable to move - someone wrapped snugly around him, an arm and leg draped over his body. he didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night, then again, he didn’t remember a lot after the bar. so, when he looked down and saw you? his heart nearly stopped
“Mavsosa—“, voice strained as he freezes, his eyes flutter shut. you’re warm against him, pleasantly so, but he can’t help the guilt gnawing at his heart. did something happen? how did you two end up in his room?
but, light still streaming in from a crack in the curtains, when he opens his eyes he catches a glimmer on your ring finger. time slows down for him as he swallows - a pretty gold band with a cute little gem. when he eyes his own hand time starts flowing again, heart drumming in his chest. talk about a birthday present, he woke up with a wife
he would have been delighted to wake up as your boyfriend - maybe a tipsy confession after a shot of liquid courage, but waking up as your husband? it has his stomach twisting with nerves, but he can’t help the boyish smile that settles on his face. it seems like a silly joke, waking up wed to you
mind fuzzy as he recalls the chapel he ushered you into, hand in hand with goofy smiles, it didn’t seem too bad in the moment. while he might not be great at gambling, his charisma let him sweet talk the pastor into officiating - not his proudest moment in hindsight
and when you cling to him as you wake up, hand smoothing down his chest, he glances at you. you’ve been solid friends since he started serving, everyone knows that if you’re somewhere the other isn’t far behind. and he loves you, he really does, he just didn’t expect to see that ring on you, shiny band twinkling with the morning light
”Morning, dangsin.”, he quietly says, hoping you’ll be just as happy - maybe a little caught off guard - as him. it’s a gamble, his deep voice dripping with affection as he runs his hand through your hair, “Sleep well?”
charismatic man - while he tends to have terrible luck gambling, winning you over was easier than breathing, “Mhm, s’this our honeymoon, Kim?”, you mumble, eyeing the ring on his hand
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sapphic-kpop-fics · 2 months ago
Text
Undercover (Hirai Momo x Reader)
Smut, fluff
Detective!Momo and Reader
Mentions of murder but nothing explicit, idk how being a detective works, overuse of “baby” probably, jealousy (yay), ends kinda abruptly I didn’t know how to end it
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Sometimes your job as a detective is filled with the mundane, small crimes but not this week, it was different. A murder case, with many victims, and you had been at the office all week 24/7 and far enough away from home to have to get a hotel. Along with your work partner, Hirai Momo, you both worked tirelessly with no leads well until now when you’re in a conference room with your evidence board sitting and staring at Momo who was sitting across from you reading her files and working furiously on her computer trying to find a shred of evidence. You admit, she was very attractive, it was hard not to have a crush on the woman. Her black hair framed her face with bangs, she wore a suit without the tie and a pair of glasses. It was difficult to keep your eyes off her, all you could do was hope she didn’t notice your stares.
“I got it!” Momo exclaimed from her seat, breaking you from staring at her, “the connection, this nightclub, all of the victims were there in the weeks before their deaths. Maybe our suspect frequents or works there?”
“Y-yeah, it’s definitely something to follow. Good job Hirai.” You manage to get out as she looks at you in excitement from her discovery.
“I told you, call me Momo. I’d say we’re… friends so don’t be so formal.” She smiles, you don’t miss how she hesitates at the word friends. You had little moments with her, touches and looks like made you fill with hope that maybe she felt the same but you had always put them to the back of your mind as her just being friendly.
“O-okay. Well, Momo, what’s the plan?” Momo smiles at the use of her name.
“I’m generating a list of employees and frequent visitors so we know who to look for, and then I say we go undercover.”
“Is that necessary?”
“They don’t have cameras so It’s the easiest way to keep an eye out for weird behavior without spooking our potential suspect” she smiles, you had only started working as a detective a year ago which is when you were partnered with Momo as opposed to her 5 years of experience, “Why? Scared?” A teasing smirk on her lips.
“What!?! No.” Momo giggles at your response, “I’ve just…never done it before. Plus I can’t lie or act very well.”
“It’s easy, just be yourself without the cop part.” She says walking to your side of the table, “you’ll be fine, plus we’ll both be there together. It’s a gay club. Mostly rich couples, some singles looking to join said couples for their money.”
“Oh. So we..”
“Have to act like a couple. Yes.” She confirms, “is that okay?”
“I don’t have a problem with it.. but if you-“
“No no. I’m good.” Momo cuts you off and pauses for a moment, staring into your eyes before blinking out of it, “um- i should have that list of potential suspects soon so um until then, have anything nice to wear in your go bag? It’s a pretty…expensive place” She seemed more nervous now.
“Um, does a button up and jeans count?” You ask, that being your usual work attire and the only thing you keep in your go bag.
“Fortunately I prepared for this and I have an extra dress.” Momo was excited on the inside not only to see you in a dress, but to see you in her dress, “How about we go back to the hotel and clean up? I’ll leave the dress by your door.”
So you made your way to the hotel, Momo driving which was way more attractive than it should’ve been. Showering and doing some minor hair and make up, you check outside your door and as said there’s bag with a red dress, it was short and tight fitting leaving little to be imagined of your thighs. You wondered if this was the option she gave you, then what was she wearing. You didn’t have to wonder long as a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, Momo stood on the other side a tight black dress, sleeveless with lace on the abdomen showing off her defined abs which you of course fixate on. Jewelry adorned her fingers and neck, rings highlighting her veined hands. You weren’t paying enough attention to notice Momo doing the same, eyes checking out the way her dress hugged your body, though she has the self control to pull her stare away.
“Um- should we go?” She says, making your eyes snap to her face, she was clearly amused at your staring though a bit flustered herself.
“Oh, yes.”
The car ride to the club proved difficult, Momo’s ringer finger resting on the wheel of the car as she drove, her dress raising on her thighs even more sitting in the drivers seat. It was hard not to look at her, your eyes barely leave her and when they do it’s only because of Momo’s gaze flickering over to you. A thick tension filled the car that made itself present since you left the hotel, the stolen glances (and/or stares) speak your feelings without words and now you don’t have to doubt if the attraction was mutual anymore. You pulled into the parking lot of the club, people scattered the side walk, all dressed up.
“Here’s the plan.” Momo starts after putting the car in park, “One of the customers here fits the profile, and I might’ve forgot to say that you’re kinda their ideal type..”
“Wh-“ you hadn’t even realized your resemblance to the victims until now.
“So I need you to lure them over and start a conversation.”
“Momo.”
“I know but you’ll do great.”
“I’ve never done this before, much less alone.”
Momo reaches over the console to grab your shaky hand, looking into your eyes, your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker to her lips.
“I’ll be there the whole time, watching. If anything happens, I’m right there.” She assures, “After a you get some information, I’ll come in as your girlfriend, maybe get her number and then I’ll steal you away so we can leave, okay?”
There’s a calmness and overt confidence in her voice, a tone that makes you feel protected and a bit turned on. Your face flushes when she calls herself your girlfriend.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say looking away from her.
“Are you ready?” She asks, pausing for a few seconds watching your heavy breathing and shaky hands as you nervously prepare.
“No but, now or never.”
“Let’s go then.” Momo gets out of the car, as do you.
You don’t expect Momo to grab your hand, interlocking your fingers with a smile, looking away from you to open the door and holding it for you without disconnecting your hands.
“Stand at the bar, I’ll keep an eye on you from a distance.” She whispers in your ear when you’re inside, lips brushing against your skin as she’s way too close in order to sell the whole “in a relationship” thing, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself that it’s all pretend.
Momo walks away to find a place with a good viewpoint of the bar, you take a deep breath before walking to the bar and taking a sit on a stool and ordering a drink, without alcohol as you’re still working. It’s not long before you lock eyes with a woman who is walking towards you with a smirk and Momo who was at a table behind her, nodding at you to indicate she was your suspect.
“Hi, I’m Kate. What’s your name?” The mysterious woman said as she sat in the seat next to you.
You just mutter “Jane”, a fake name of course as to not blow your cover.
“Pretty. Are you here alone?” Her finger circles her drinks glass.
“Uh, No. My girlfriend is.. in the bathroom.” You say as your eyes flicker to Momo who is intently watching.
“Even better. The more the merrier.”
An awkward silence fills the space before she speaks again.
“Until she gets back, can I buy you another drink?” The woman inches closer and a hand makes its way to your waist making you tense up.
“I’m good.” Once again you look to Momo, a save me look in your eyes while a jealous one is set in hers but she puts that aside to come to your aid.
“Are you s-“
The woman is cut off by Momo coming up to you, removing the woman’s hand from you and replacing it with her own which sends shivers up your spine.
“Hey baby, who’s this?” You could tell by Momo’s slightly clenched jaw and tightening grip on your waist that this wasn’t an act anymore.
“Kate.”
“You must be the girlfriend?”
“I am.” A flat smile on Momo’s face, you expected her to ask for a phone number or something like planned but her jealousy got in the way of her professionalism, “We should get going.” Her dark eyes lock onto yours making you nod in response.
“Before you go, you should take this.” She holds out a piece of paper, “One of you should call me, or both.” She adds with a wink.
It’s clear she’s holding the paper out to you but Momo takes it between her fingers with a tight lipped smile before grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the door. She walks fast, almost too fast for you to keep up even as she guides you with her hand gripping yours, she only slows when you stop completely and her hand holding yours is met with resistance when you don’t let her pull you along.
“What?” She asks, her usual nice tone gone.
“Slow down. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Why you didn’t continue with the plan, get more information?”
“We got her number, which means we can get her identity.” Her voice flat before she turns to walk away again.
You follow, silently sitting in the passenger seat and immediately turning to look out the window instead of her. I mean you knew she was jealous, doesn’t mean you have to be happy with how she reacts or the fact that she won’t just admit it.
Your arms cross over your chest while there’s a light pout on your lips while she drives the short distance to your hotel, while Momo found it adorable she still couldn’t help the annoyance she felt as she thought about the woman’s hand on you. But she couldn’t help but apologize after seeing the sad look in your eye.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t answer.
“I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
Still nothing. She knew you could be stubborn but a disagreement never caused you to ignore her. She sighed as she pulled into the parking lot of your hotel, putting the car in park before turning to look at you leaning her back against her door.
“I was jealous okay?” This got your attention making you finally look at her, “the way she looked at you and talked to you and… touched you.” She spat out the last part like it was a piece of food that tasted bad with her hands forming into fists, “I didn’t like it. At all.” Your partners jaw clenched at even the thought of someone else touching you.
“You could’ve just said that.” A smile pulls at the edges of your lips, “Did you suggest going undercover just so we can pretend to be girlfriends?” You ask putting an elbow on the console as your chin rests in your hand, confidence filling you at her confession.
“Shut up.” Momo says shaking her head with a smile, but she grabs your face and pulls you into a kiss. It turns heated quickly, months of tension being put into it. Teeth hit against each other, tongues sliding against the other, and lips being bruised, “My room?” She breathes out after finally pulling away, hastily opening her car door and making her way to the entrance when you nod.
You follow her movements, jogging a little to catch up as you giggle at her eagerness. She grabs your hand when you appear by her side, once again dragging you along but this time with desire and neediness. The woman leads you to the elevator where her lips are immediately on yours again, pushing you against the wall, a hand falling to your thigh and pushing the edge of your dress up a bit. Her lips move to your neck, you can feel her making a mark which you’re definitely going to yell at her for later though she’s interrupted by the elevator stopping and a few people waiting outside making her detach from you quickly and once again pulls you to follow her out the doors. You mutter an apology to the people as you pass them, you quickly arrive at Momo’s room and she scrambles to pick her key card out of the little purse she’s carrying. You huff impatiently as she can’t find it for a minute, finally she pulls the card out and quickly opens her door and pulls you inside using your body to shut the door.
Her lips are attached to yours in an instant, hands roaming over the exposed skin of your legs eventually playing with the hem of your dress.
“I wanna see you.” She mumbles against your ear between kisses on your neck, fingers gliding a bit under your dress, “Please?” Her hands resting on the fabric as she waits for you to respond.
“Go ahead.” Your voice is weak at her utter desire for you.
She pulls you by both hands so you’re by the bed, “turn around.” A soft demand that you follow, her fingers finding the zipper on the back of your dress and pulling at it, letting the clothing fall to the floor. As the dress is strapless, you opted to not wear bra, a fact that Momo can’t get past so her hands move to your shoulders to turn you to face her.
Her eyes, which were taken up by her blown pupils, go to your now exposed chest. In a wave of confidence you grab her hands and put them on your chest, sighing as her cold rings meet you warm skin.
“Lay on the bed.” Her tone makes your core ache with need.
As you lay there, Momo stands at the end of the bed, at first just staring at you like a lion hunting its prey and letting her eyes wander, eventually her stares get to your underwear which have a visible wet spot on them. Then she starts taking her rings off, one by one, three on each hand and she sets them on the dresser in front of her. Crawling up the bed a smile settles on her face when she reaches your face.
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” She whispers as her lips brush against yours, “Since you got partnered with me.” Finally pressing her lips into yours when she finishes speaking, the kiss is softer now, “Always so pretty.” Mouth moving to your jaw and neck, once again leaving marks that you’ll bring up later.
“Momo. Please.” Her soft words mixed with her lips making you impatient for her touch, you can feel her smile against your skin at your begging.
“Want me to touch you baby?” She whispers, her lips once again wandering this time down to your chest, tongue swirling around one of the peaks and her fingers squeezing any skin she could find, brushing over your slit when she reaches your thighs.
“Fuck.” A breathy moan accompanied by your hips bucking up into hers, though her own legs serve as a barrier holding you down mostly, “Don’t tease.” A desperate plea, hoping her eagerness would make her give in. Lucky for you she’s easily persuaded.
Momo’s finger find their way to your underwear, hooking under the waistband and pulling them off quickly throwing them to the side. Her dark eyes fixate on your center making you squeeze your thighs together, though her large hands don’t let that slide very long.
“Spread your legs baby. Don’t be shy. You’re so pretty.” She says softly, voice thick with desire, hands sliding down to your knees to begin pulling them apart.
When your legs are parted fully and you’re on display for the woman to see, she uses her thumbs to pull your folds apart, her mouth opening slightly at the sight of you practically dripping for her.
“So wet.” She says mostly to herself as if you’re not there, her pointer finger teases your slit, “All for me, right?” The earlier jealousy seeping in again.
“All yours.”
Whether you’re talking about the wetness dripping off of you or you entirely, or maybe (definitely) both. Momo starts moving her index finger up and down on your clit, incredibly slowly you think. Moving so she’s face to face with you, fingers still working you while her other hand rest next to your head.
“All mine." Lips brushing against yours as she speaks, “my pretty girl.”
Little whimpers leave your mouth at her words and the little circles her finger is making, your hips moving off the mattress to get more pressure or to get her to go faster, causing the tip of her finger to go into your entrance making a gasp fall from your lips while hand clutch onto her clothed back though she doesn’t leave her finger there for long.
“More.” You eventually get out in between moans, giving her your best puppy dog eyes, “Need you inside.”
“Yeah? Want my fingers princess?” Head tilting as her blown pupils never leave yours, lust fills them and you know no matter what you say she’ll do whatever you ask for.
“Just fuck me already.”
You barely finish the sentence before she’s slipping two fingers inside of you, not giving you time to adjust before moving them at a mild pace, not giving in fully.
“Feel good, baby?” A smirk takes over her face as she looks at you, your head leaning back as your back arches a bit off the mattress accompanied by a loud moan leaving your mouth.
“Mm. So-. Fuck. So good.” You manage to get out, “Don’t stop.” Followed by a string of muttered pleases as you stuff your face in the space between her neck and shoulder, a hand tangling in her black hair to bring her closer if possible.
“You’re doing so good, you know?” Her praise going straight to your core, “My good girl.” The possessive nature of her words makes your mind even fuzzier than it already is, “look at me, baby.” Her other hand coming up to lift your chin so you meet her eyes, “I wanna see how hard I make you cum.”
“‘M so close.” Embarrassingly close for how little she’s been touching you, you didn’t care and you knew Momo didn’t care with how her pace sped up at your words eager to make you finish.
“Cum for me baby.” It’s almost as if she’s begging, eyes locked onto your face wanting to see your every reaction, “I got you.” She whispers as your body shakes underneath her, you let out a string of curses in between whimpers of her name. Her fingers still working you as you come down from your high only stopping when you reach a hand to grab her wrist with a whine. Your chest heaves as you recover, sweat covers your body along with purple and red mark. Momo looks down to you, eyes filled with adoration and a small smile on her lips.
“You okay?”
“Very.”
Your hands go to the hem of her dress to mess with it, pulling slightly.
“Let me touch you.”
“Whatever you want.”
And she kept her word, you got whatever you wanted for the night, whether it was her making you cum 3 more times or eating her out until she can’t take anymore. Though you eventually pass out, tangled together in her bed with bare bodies flush against each other.
You only wake up to the buzz of Momo’s alarm scheduled for 7 AM every morning (even weekends and off days), which she shuts off quickly before pulling you back into her.
“Good morning.” She rasps out, voice vibrating on the skin of your neck.
“Morning.” You mutter half asleep
After a few minutes when you’re about to fall back asleep Momo playfully mutters, “God, this is gonna cause so much paperwork.” Making you lightly hit her but you giggle anyways, “it’s worth it though.” She smiles when you finally open your eyes at her.
“Maybe I should text Kate and thank her, for making you jealous enough to make the first move.”
“Absolutely not.”
She kisses you with a playful jealousy, knowing you wouldn’t dream of being with anyone else.
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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago
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Sucking on Minhos fingers while he's got you in a headlock... Hehe
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A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! At first, I didn't know what to write, so that's why I took so long to fulfill it. I usually try and imagine scenarios in my head and then play them out in my writing, and it finally hit me while I was re-watching Chainsaw Man today. I really hope I did you justice and you enjoy it because I think this might be my favorite fic to write to this day!!!
WC: 2.7k (1.6 is literally smut...)
Minors don't interact, 18+
Pairing: Roomate!Lee Know x afab!reader
Warnings: Lee Know calls the reader a slut, cum eating, mirror sex (just a bit), head lock, protected sex (for the first time ever), idk what else?
It was a normal night between you and your roommate Minho, he would spend every Friday cooking for the both of you guys while you caught up on assignments. It was a good arrangement because you hated cooking, and it was his favorite pastime. In return, you would wash all the dishes and make dessert for the both of you. Baking had always been your favorite, and you loved trying new recipes with him, and he did the same when it came to new dishes. 
This week, he wanted to try out a sous vide steak. “Can you pass me the butter please?” Minho said across the kitchen. “Yeah of course!” you said, walking across the kitchen to pass it to him. “Thank you!” he replied back, basting the steak that he had searing on the stove with the butter you just passed him. 
You went back to sitting on the barstool, continuing to work on the assignment you had due for your Journalism class at midnight. As you continued to work, Minho continued to cook. He was making a side of vegetables but needed your opinion on whether or not they were seasoned enough. 
“I need you to taste this,” he said, holding up a fork in front of you. You were so immersed in your assignment that you just opened your mouth, waiting for him to put it in your mouth. He did so, and before you could notice how he stared at the fork leaving your mouth you said “I think it needs more salt, just a pinch, but it’s good.” 
He just coughed and nodded, turning away, not letting you see how his ears turned a bit red at the tips. “Yeah, let me add some more salt and then we can sit down and eat.” 
“That works for me!” you replied, finishing up the assignment at hand and submitting it. You close your laptop, pick up the plates, and place them on the table in the middle of your apartment. “What kind of wine do you want to drink tonight?” you asked him, looking in the fridge. “Red would go best with today’s steak,” he replied cutting up the steak into pieces on the cutting board. 
“Alright got it” 
As you took the first bite, you moaned to him how good it was. “I think this is your best recipe yet,” you told him while taking a bite of the vegetables. You didn’t realize that your little moan caused him to cough up a bit of his wine.   
To distract himself from what just happened, he told you how Jisung had accidentally spilled coffee all over himself at work and he laughed so hard that he spilled some on himself too. You told him about your week too, how classes were kicking your ass too. 
“Oh, and this dude in my literature class asked me for his number.” You took another bite of the steak. He was fuming a bit, but not wanting to show it he casually asked “Did you give it to him?” 
“I didn’t want to be impolite, plus he seemed nice so I did. He invited me to get dinner with him tomorrow.” You said while taking a sip of your wine. 
“Did you say yes?” he asked, annoyed you were giving your number out to total strangers. 
“I told him I would most likely be able to, but if something came up I would have to cancel and he said that was totally fine, why?” you replied, a bit confused as to why he was so interested. 
“Oh, I was just wondering, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a date.” 
“Yeah, I know, that’s why I wanted to go out. I’m tired of being stuck at home constantly.” Before he could interject, you quickly spoke up again. “Not that I’m tired of hanging out with you, I love spending time with you. I just want to look pretty for someone, get all dressed up,” pointing down at yourself, “not just in sweats all the time.” 
“That makes sense,” Minho scoffed, and you could hear a bit of undertone in his voice. 
You decided to ignore it, collecting both of your dishes as you finished them. “Do you wanna play the new episode of Chainsaw Man while I bring the flan?” you asked 
“You made flan again?” he asked while walking over to the couch. “Yeah, I knew how much you liked it last time, plus my friend gave me this recipe to perfect it.” 
“Oh, that’s nice, thanks for thinking about me.” he was already sitting down so you couldn’t see the grin that was plastered on his face. “Hey, don’t be so egotistical, I liked it too,” you said while bringing over two bowls of it. 
You guys sat in silence, eating the flan while the episode played in the background. Minho would occasionally look at you, watching your little reactions to what was playing on the screen in front of the both of you.
“Damn, I wish I was Denji,” you said loud enough for Minho to hear. It was a scene of Himeno putting him in a headlock. “You want to be choked?” Minho asked, not sure if he understood you correctly. 
“I mean, it seems weird, but also, I really want to try it,” you shrugged to Minho. 
“If you want to try it, I can put you in a headlock” he replied back with no hesitation. “I mean, I don’t think it will choke you or anything, but I am pretty strong so if you want to…” 
Before he could even finish his sentence, you quickly replied with a “Yes!” 
“I mean only if you are comfortable with it, if you don’t want to I mean we don’t have to” you rambled on. 
“I don’t mind as long as you are comfortable with it, just tap my arm if it’s too much.” He said, pausing the show and patting the spot next to him. You crawled to him, sitting on your knees right next to him. What you didn’t realize was how flushed Minho had become, he could feel his pants tighten a bit at the thought of him in his arms. 
“Can I sit in your lap you can do it from behind?” you asked innocently, your doe eyes looking up at him. He swore he groaned out loud, but he stopped himself, composing himself and just nodding. 
You climbed into his lap, your back facing his chest. You felt his arm wrap around your throat, your bicep slowly squeezing it. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay kitten?” and you just whimpered in response. This is the first time he’s ever called you that and you can feel yourself getting wet in his lap. 
You began to squirm, causing him to groan behind you. “Fuck, don’t start something you can’t finish.” 
“What if I want to start something?” you tilt your head up, trying to get a good look at your roommate's face. 
You had never realized how beautiful he was, you knew he was attractive. It was evident, he was one of the best-looking men you had ever met, but his beauty astonished you in that moment.
Before you could even say something, he flipped you around. “Fuck kitten, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Seeing you in your tiny shorts and big t-shirts around the apartment. That one time you took my shirt and wore it around the house, I swear I was hard that entire day after seeing you.” 
You just giggled at him, “Oh baby, this is no laughing matter, maybe I should shut you up?” 
You just nodded up at him, as he slipped his fingers in your mouth. You began sucking on them, wrapping your tongue around both digits, wetting them with your saliva and he just groaned above you. “Fuck baby” he just groaned thinking about how well you would take his cock in your mouth. 
He slipped his digits out of your mouth, placing a kiss on your lips. One kiss became another and another, and then it turned into a heated make-out session. In the process, he had flipped you on top of him and you began grinding on his semi-hard cock. 
“Fuck baby you feel so good, but let’s get off the couch okay?” you just nodded at him, still feeling lightheaded from his mouth on yours. 
You both got up, him picking you up, tossing you onto his shoulder. Before you could protest, he began walking to his room. You began writhing on his shoulder, wanting to be put down. “Stop acting like a brat,” he said while smacking your ass. 
“Minho!” you shouted, eliciting a chuckle from him. “If you act good, I’ll take care of you, but if you act like a brat, I won’t let you cum.” You quickly shut up, allowing him to throw you on the bed. He hovered above you, placing kisses on your neck, and moving down to your thighs. 
He took off your sweatpants, leaving you only in your oversized shirt and panties. He began to lift your shirt only to see you not wearing a bra. “Had these out just for me, and I had no clue? What else are you hiding from me, baby?” He asked, sucking on one of your nipples causing you to moan. “You just wanted to act like a slut, hoping we did this, is that why?” 
“Yes Minho, just wanted you” you moaned again as he moved onto the other breast. He just groaned, you were good to him, too good. He moved down, kissing your stomach and then your thighs. You rubbed them together, wanting some sort of friction.  
“No, keep these open for me kitten, I want to see your sweet little cunt.” He said while pulling down your panties. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so wet, tell me who’s doing this to you.” 
“You are Minho, only you can do this to me.” you moaned as he liked a stripe against your pussy. His lips catch your clit, sucking on it causing your legs to shut. “Kitten, what did I just say?” 
“To keep my legs open for you.” You were hiding your face behind your hands, a bit ashamed of how wet you were for him, how much he turned you on. “So, let’s keep them open okay? You can be a good girl and do that for me can’t you?” 
You just nodded, opening your legs again. “Fuck, you taste better than any dessert you’ve ever made me.” He said while licking your pussy another time. “You are going to let me eat you for dessert whenever I need it aren’t you?” 
“Yes Minho, I’ll let you do anything to me” you moaned as he started putting his veiny fingers inside of you. He began fucking his fingers inside at a quick pace, still sucking on your clit and all you could do was moan. 
He hadn’t even put his cock in you and you could already feel yourself cumming. “Please Minho, too much, I’m gonna cum.”
“Then be a good kitten and cum on my fingers, then I’ll make you cum on my cock. You can take more than one round, can’t you baby?” 
“Yes, can be a good girl for Minho, please can I cum, please sir let me cum” you moaned as his fingers hit that particular spot in you causing you to go over the edge, your entire body shaking as you came over the edge, cumming on his fingers. 
“Minho, need your cock, please need it inside of me.” you pleaded and he was in awe. You had just cum, but you were still begging for his cock. He was going to have fun with you. 
“You just came and already need my cock? How much of a needy slut are you? You just want your hole filled at all times?” He scoffed at you. He was still fully dressed as you were fully naked underneath him. You pawed at his shirt and he just laughed. He took it off, along with his sweats. 
You could see how hard his dick was through his boxers, your eyes widening a bit, trying to hide your reaction by covering. He chuckled at your reaction, releasing his fat cock from his boxers, taking a condom out of his drawer, and tearing the foil with his mouth. 
“Yes, just a slut for you sir, I need you, need you in me.” You spread your cunt apart with your fingers, trying to show him where you needed him most and he just groaned. 
He slowly pushed his tip inside of you, knowing how eager you were. He was also eager, his dick hard as soon as you moaned his name the first time. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, don’t know why I didn’t fuck it beforehand.”
He slowly pushed his dick inside of you, your cunt squeezing it tight, making it hard for him to fully still inside of you. “Baby I need you to relax so you can take my cock. You can be a good kitten for me and do that right?” 
You simply nodded, taking his fingers into your mouth once again, wrapping your lips around his digits, causing him to groan as he finally entered you fully. “Fuck baby, you feel even better than you taste.” You simply moaned, feeling so full as he was fully inside of you. 
“So good Minho, feel so full” you moaned, feeling so full of him you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Please move, I need you” You looked up at him, his fingers going back into your mouth and he couldn’t control himself. He began thrusting into you, causing you to moan around his fingers. 
“Fuck this pussy is so tight, gonna fuck you all around the apartment from now on. This pussy is mine and mine only, you got it?” You just nodded as he began thrusting into you faster. 
You were on the verge of cumming, but Minho pulled out before you could. Before you could protest, he flipped you around, your ass up and face at the end of his bed looking straight at the mirror in front of you. “I want you to see how pretty you look on my cock, how my cock is making you dumb, how good it is making you feel.” 
You felt yourself going dumb, the only thing on your mind was Minho and his cock. “Minho, fuck it feels so good.” you moaned, feeling him hit that spot inside of you. “Yeah, kitten? Look at who’s making you cum, look at who’s making you dumb on their cock.” 
“You are, you are making me feel this good” you moaned as his thrusts got harder. With one more thrust, you were cumming on his cock. 
“Fuck, this pussy is to die for” he groaned, continuing to thrust into you trying to get to his own high. After a few more thrusts, he could feel himself getting ready to cum. “Where do you want me baby?” 
“In my mouth,” you said with no hesitation. You wanted to taste him like he tasted out. “Fuck kitten, you are going to be the death of me” he took off the condom, wrapping his hand around his cock. With a tug of his cock, he came into your mouth. You swallowed all of it, showing him and he kissed your lips. 
You both fell back on his bed, him wrapping his arms around you as he covered you both with his blanket. Both of your clothes still splayed on the floor of his room. “That was… unexpected,” you said. 
“A good unexpected or bad?” he asked a bit scared of your response. “Definitely good,” you said while kissing his lips. He grinned, “You better cancel that date tomorrow because I’m the one taking you out tomorrow.” You just hummed, playing with his hair. 
Minho didn’t need to know that no one had actually asked for your number, you were just trying to make him make the first move. 
taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify
(my perm taglist is open, also sorry for forgetting to add my tag list, it just slipped my mind, so sorry)
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edsheeranong · 8 months ago
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sweet pea x fem oc
A/N- i've never written before and idk if anyone will even see this but pls be nice. i've also not really watched riverdale in many years so i'm trying to piece things together but it won't follow the plot very well.
-archie andrews twin sister, delilah, is fed up with him being overprotective. so when a cute serpent offers her an opportunity, she can't turn it down
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"andrews," an unfamiliar voice called out. delilah hummed in response, not bothering to look who it was and instead continued piling notebooks out of her locker. "i hear your brother doesn't like you dating, he goes around and tells everyone not to go near you, 'or else'" the boy said.
"can i help you with something or...?" delilah said, closing her locker and looking at the boy.
"sweet pea," he extended his hand out to her. she readjusted the stack of book in her hands to shake his. "i've got a proposition for you," he stated.
"look, you wouldn't be the first boy to think he can get with me without my brother finding out," she started walking and followed her. "it never ends well."
"i think i can handle him," he stated. she turned to look at him and realized he had a point. he was incredibly tall and muscular. "but anyway that's not what i'm suggesting," he pulled her into an alcove. "i hate your brother, he thinks he's the shit and he keeps messing with southsiders."
"why are you telling me this?" she cut him off.
"i think we can help each other out," he said, resulting in a raised eyebrow from the girl. "you hate him for controlling you, i just hate him."
"okay, i don't hate my brother," she said.
"but you're fed up with him telling everyone not to go out with you?" he asked, and she sighed and murmured in agreement. "i'm suggesting a little revenge."
"why me?" she asked, he was getting annoyed at how she kept interrupting him.
"i'm probably the person your brother hates most, at least at this school. and i hate your brother so much, being with his sister would just kill him," he explained.
"'with' as in..." she said.
"dating," he clarified.
"let me get this straight, you want me to fake date you so you can get back at my brother for being a dick and i can get back at him for controlling my love life?"
"yep, pretty much," he shrugged.
"i'm still confused," she admitted. "if we're not actually together, you're not really getting back at him."
"if he believes we're together, then it's like i took something from him. he tries so hard to keep you away from guys, and his number one enemy being the one you defy him for. it'll make him go crazy."
"it'll make things worse, he's only gonna harass you more," delilah pointed out.
"once again, i can deal with him," he said. "just think about it," he walked away, leaving her to think.
she walked home alone and really thought about his proposal. she was fully on board with showing archie he couldn't control her, but she was scared of what he would do to sweet pea. it was all she thought about that entire night and she decided she just needed to sleep on it.
the entire next day she kept trying to find a time to talk to him but he was always with someone.
she was about to take it as a sign but as she was leaving school, she turned the corner and ran right into him. he grabbed her arm to stabilize her and raised his eyebrows at her.
"so?" he asked.
"i'm down," she told him. he smirked at her and they started walking. he led her to the back of the school where his bike was. he handed her his helmet and she hesitated before taking it.
"well it would be bad manners not to drive my girl home," he said, noticing her confused expression.
"okay hold up," she said as he mounted the bike. "i think we need to have a conversation about this."
"what is there to talk about?"
"uh, i don't know. how long are we gonna do this for?" she sat down on the ledge in front of him.
"until we decide we've had enough," he said.
"okay... how is this... gonna work?" she asked and he pondered for a moment.
"well, we should make sure archie sees us together, obviously. but we gotta keep this act up around other people too," he pulled his leg off his bike and stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her knees and spreading them so he could stand between them.
Sweet pea took the moment of silence to take a good look at her. he had seen her around school, of course, but it was always from a distance. her hair was usually messy, due to the loose curls in it.
but looking at her up close was different. her eyes were bright green and her skin was almost sickly pale. she had freckles littered about her face. she was a lot to take in. sweet pea knew he wouldn't have asked her if she wasn't at least a little bit attracted to her.
it shocked him how different she looked from her twin brother. he had bright red hair and dark eyes but her hair was pitch black and piercing green eyes.
"okay," she managed to finally get out. "i have some rules though."
"rules?" he threw his head back. "i don't really do rules."
"we get it, you're a bad boy," she rolled her eyes at him. "and yes i have rules. number one, we keep my dad out of this. he's been through a lot recently and i don't want to stress him out more," she waited for a sign be understood and when he nodded his head she continued. "number two, nothing too physical. i've never had a boyfriend before and i don't want all my firsts to be wasted on a boy-"
"like me?" he cut her off. "a serpent? a southsider?"
"who isn't actually my boyfriend," she finished, clearly annoyed.
"fine, but nobodies going to believe we're dating if i can't kiss you," he pointed out.
"you can kiss me, but i'm not doing anything more," she told him. "number three, you can't tell anyone this isn't real. if it got back to archie, neither of us would live to see another day."
"my lips are sealed," he said. "now if that's all..." he picked her up by her waist and gently placed her on the ground. "i think it's time we set the plan in motion," he gestured toward his bike.
"sure, but archie won't be home," she said as he placed the helmet on her head and messed with the straps.
"where will he be?" he got back on his bike and patted the space behind him.
"him and veronica go to pops every friday after school," she explained, carefully climbing on the bike. he grabbed her arms and placed them around his torso.
"then i guess i know where we're going," he started his bike. "hold on tight."
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15-lizards · 3 months ago
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ASOIAF modern AU class/wealth distinctions bc in the wise words of Mod Sam from the Inn at The Crossroads Discord: “i love modern aus where theyre like oh yeah the lannisters are filthy rich and here's the starks, piling into a minivan to go to public school. they would not fucking do that”
Lannisters: Private jets and COO/CEO/CFO positions at the family company and plain white tshirts that cost $5000. 1% of the 1%. They’re the Roys we already know this no need to elaborate.
Starks: they’re a rugged type of Minnesota/North Dakota/Wyoming wealth. Land rich. Own ranches and mining operations and oil drilling companies. Ppl think they’re normal bc they look like average farmers until they get a tour of their 300,000 acres and private mountain. Seem down to earth but grew up breeding ranch horses, don’t really understand what a car note is, and Nedcat paid for all the starklings college apartments. Also wear normal looking vests and ranching jeans and boots that cost absurd amounts
Tyrells: masters at the “quiet wealth” bullshit. Wayyyy older money compared to the Lannisters, and aren’t aggressive/scrappy like them bc of it. Literal aristocracy like lords or barons or some shit. Multiple residences, family tradition of politics, and loads of passive income. Maybe run a newspaper or two and own some global shipping companies bc of their merchant roots or whatever. Margaery was at one of those international debutante balls for the ubër-wealthy.
Tullys: Not as rich as the Tyrells or Lannisters but still nothing to scoff at. Not upper middle class but more like lower rungs of the upper class. Family tradition of sending all the kids to boarding school (that’s where Lysa got pregnant 🙂‍↕️) and they have some nice yachts and the like. Have one really nice permanent house on the river, a summer house upstate, and an apartment in the city. Normal enough to blend in with most people at their school. Also made their money thru shipping lanes.
Martells: Southern oil barons. Nymeria emigrated over and immediately discovered oil on her apparently shitty piece of land. Thousands of acres dedicated to drilling and cattle ranching. Awful for the environment but greenwash the fuck out of their business. Good at being a man of the ppl despite literally being in the one percent. Very publicly donate to progressive charities and causes to offset the backlash they get from pay the people who work for them slave wages. People stan them on Twitter because they’re hot and not like other billionaires.
Baratheons: slightly newer money but old enough to have no excuse to act the way they do. Loud annoying displays of wealth. Made their fortune mostly because they were good at being overly aggressive when it came to the stock market or sales or smthn idk what they do. Robert buys an egregious house in Florida where him and some other rich repulsive republicans do Labor Day weekend on their yachts with women they paid to be there. Absolutely terrible at saving their money (except Stannis and kinda Renly) and quite literally have to have their accounts frozen by their investment bankers. Actively going bankrupt.
Greyjoys: Not even rich anymore. Had a sizable shipping company at one point before they got poached bought out by the Lannisters. Also they engaged in too much tax fraud and embezzlement so now no one wants to touch them with a ten foot pole. Still live in their dilapidated cliffside house that’s literally ab to crumble into the sea. Theon got to live with the Starks bc once the Greyjoys got audited Ned felt bad.
Targaryens: REAL old money that stretches back like at least 500 years. Have had multiple income sources over the years and almost all of it is blood money of some kind and extracted through violence :) Giant ass portraits of their ancestors in their multiple residences, they all speak Valyrian at home, and they don’t even go to school it’s just private tutors. Obscene wealth that isn’t even fathomable to most people. Famously bred race horses and hunting dogs for a while until there was some familial infighting about ownership of the racetracks and stables and that collapsed. Got audited and investigated twenty years ago and Aerys just killed himself instead of going to jail.
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