#made this last year and is still very very true

[honeyhotteoks]

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

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 1); (*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. **this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the FIRST half of this part, here!

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

**did you read section one of part two yet? if not, click here!!

Slowly, ever so slowly, the hazy cloud starts to lift. You’re both still shaking, Yunho hiding in your shoulder, his lips brushing against your pulsepoint as he comes back down from his high. Your fingers are locked tightly on his back still, legs pinning him to your pelvis, and it takes time for you to breathe through the last bits of dizziness and start to feel some kind of normal again. 

Finally you feel him exhale out an intentional breath and kiss your shoulder before pressing up on his forearms to look down at you, “Am I crushing you?” He lifts a bit of his body weight off, but you keep your arms locked. 

“Don’t go,” You say, holding him steady. 

He smiles dreamily, and shakes his head, “Not going anywhere,” 

Your legs fall slack on either side of him and you let your hands slide down to rest on his chest, “Good,” 

His eyes flick down over your bodies, to where you’re still connected hip to hip and with the fog of your newly cemented bond lifted, you feel a pang of his concern, “Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, smoothing your hand over his chest, “Mm-mm,” 

“You sure?” He takes one of your hands in his and gently kisses your knuckles. 

“You would have felt it if you did,” You remind him, “looks like we were right, we really were made for each other,” 

He rolls his eyes and smiles at your soft teasing, “Uh-huh,” 

You thread your fingers with his and tug him back down to where you rest in the pillows, kissing him as you do, “Mm,” you sigh, “do you think it will feel like that every time?” 

“If it does,” He laughs, “I’ll never make it out of this bed, I better resign now,” 

You nudge him, “Not funny,” 

“It’s a little funny,” He kisses you again, “but maybe I should, just keep you right here on my cock all day,” 

You shiver at his words, “And I’m the tease,” 

He laughs a little but squeezes your hand, “If it feels like that every time, I’m not teasing,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly at his words, “Well,” your fingers skate down his chest, “we do have three days,” 

“That’s true,” He murmurs, his brow quirking playfully as he pecks a kiss to your lips, “do you have any objections to me keeping you right here?” 

You shake your head, “We’ll have to eat at some point, though,” 

“I’m pretty sure we can manage having sex in the kitchen,” He nips at your lip.

“My kitchen’s pretty small,” 

“I’m very creative,” He counters, his kisses traveling down your jaw now. 

You sigh, breathy as his tongue catches on your throat, “W-where else?” 

He huffs a laugh, “Shower,” 

“Of course,” 

“Couch,” His teeth tug gently at your earlobe and your muscles flutter and clench. Yunho groans lightly, and you feel his cock start to stiffen up inside you again. 

“And then?” Unconsciously, your legs start to widen just a little more. 

“The wall,” His voice is low and warm in your ear, “how see-through is that window, anyways?” 

Your eyes roll and you twitch under him, fingers tightening on his skin, “It’s reflective glass, you c-can’t see through it,” 

Yunho hums pleasantly, sucking at the pulsepoint of your neck and sending a shock of heat down your body, and you feel him start to stiffen up inside you again. A little breathy sound bubbles from your lips, and his hips grind down into yours just a little. His jaw tightens, muscles tense, and you feel him rock hard again and pressing insistently at all your sweet spots. 

“A-again?” You shiver. 

“Baby,” He sighs and chuckles, “all night,” 

Part of you thinks he’s kidding about that, but with that look in his eyes you know he’s more than serious. 

“Usually I’d need a little bit,” He admits, shifting up to his knees and dragging his hands down your body, “but you make me crazy,” 

You nod, moaning as his cock shifts inside you with the position change. Nothing has ever filled you like this, felt like this. The stretch is delicious, the way he seems to reach the tenderest places in your cunt that makes you see stars. The dizziness from the bonding a moment ago has dissipated, but the searing heat is still there, and you shiver, his fingertips skating over your tattoo before his hands find a home on your hips. 

“What do you say, baby? Can you take me again?” His hips pulse slowly, a torturous drag in and out to tease you. 

“Fuck yes,” You moan, one hand flying up to the wall behind you to brace yourself. 

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulses his hips again, punching a surprised moan from your throat, “exactly like that, I’m addicted to that sound.” 

He’s so verbal now that you’re not both swimming in the sensation of your newly forged bond, that night on the phone really was just a glimpse into who your partner is behind closed doors, his idol persona left on the concert hall floor. 

”J-just like that,” You nod, gripping the sheets. 

“Like that?” He teases, dragging you down onto his cock with his hands on your hips, “Yeah?” 

You moan again, “Harder,” 

“Fuck,” He curses, hands tight, sure to bruise, “we’re going to be so good together, aren’t we?” 

Before you can respond, he answers your plea with his hips, picking up the pace so that each pulse forward is met with the drag down of your body, connecting your bodies with firm, sharp snaps, the sound wet and wanton. 

“Y-yes, yes,” You all but sob, pleasure arcing through your belly and a fresh sheen of sweat breaking over your brow. 

Yunho groans, roughly fucking into you in just the way you needed, his body slick with sweat and glistening in the low light, his muscles flexing and relaxing with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth falls open, thumbs digging into your belly where he grips your waist, “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” 

Your cunt clenches, “You feel so good,” 

“That’s my good girl,” He breathes, his eyes hazy and lips parted as he watches you coming apart beneath him. 

You moan hard at the praise, your belly fluttering and clenching at the memory of how he talked to you that first time. You’ve thought of it dozens of times, desperate for exactly this, “Yes,” you whine, “I love when you call me that. Love when you talk to me like that,” 

Yunho shudders, his hips stuttering in pace and he groans, “Yeah?” 

“Don’t stop,” You reach for him, nails brushing over his skin as you try to get your hands on him. 

“Not stopping,” He assures you, but his hips do slow as he says, “what else do you like, hmm?” 

You can feel his curiosity, and his arousal too, the way he wants to know every button that makes you tick. Your slick channel pulses around his cock and you sigh in the sheets, “What do you think I like?” 

A half smile quirks his lips and he slows his pace to a stop, “Are you trying to tease me?” 

Your cheeks heat, caught under the exactness of his gaze and the rolling ripple of arousal through your body. 

“Cute,” He murmurs again, but he rolls his hips once hard to make you moan, “so pretty when you moan for me,” 

“God,” You have to pull your eyes away. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He brushes your hips with gentler hands. 

“I’m not,” You drop a hand over your face.  

“You’re blushing, baby,” His fingers loop under yours and pull your hand away from your eyes. 

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t turn you on,” You counter, “I can feel you,” 

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, rolling his hips, “You can feel me?” 

“Shut up,” You groan, flutters rolling through your abdomen.

“Let’s see if I can make you really embarrassed, hmm?” 

“Yunho,” You manage, but you’re caught under him, the press of his hips and the firm pressure of his hands.

”You’re mine, right?” His fingers skate over your body as he adjusts himself onto his knees between your splayed open thighs, “You trust me?” 

Anticipation buzzes inside you, your mouth running dry. In this position you’re completely exposed, his eyes raking over your every inch, and when his tongue darts out to wet his lips with his tongue, your breath quickens

“Do you?” He prompts softly. 

“Y-yes,” 

He smirks a little, and then he settles on his heels and squeezes your thighs, “You like when I grab you,” he says, “I can feel your little jolt of excitement every time I do this.” He squeezes again for good measure, and just like he said your stomach jumps. 

“You’re my soulmate,” You sigh, “of course I like it when you touch me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, his hands skating up your skin until he’s cupping your breasts, “fair, how about this?” 

You soften, “That’s nice,” 

“And this?” He squeezes a little and you swallow to keep your composure, but when he finds both your nipples with his thumb and forefinger to give them a gentle pinch, you pant, “This?” 

He watches your eyes go glassy, and you’re sure he can feel the liquid fire pooling in your belly. 

He pinches them again, this time adding a little more pressure and tugging them upwards a bit before he releases. 

You moan sharply, fingers locking down on the bedding beneath you at the sharp zing that passed from your chest to your achingly neglected clit. 

“Is that nice, baby?” He tugs again, “Or am I being too rough with you?” 

He’s teasing you, and you shiver, “Not too rough,” 

The muscle in his jaw tightens but he lets that pass, cataloguing it and moving on, “And I think we’ve already established you like my hands,” 

“No surprise there,” You sigh. 

“My fingers?” He slides his hands up, and your heart starts to beat faster in your chest. Yunho settles one broad hand at the base of your throat, his fingers circling your neck gently. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but the way his thumb and index finger brace each side of your jaw has you trembling in his hold. 

You swallow, throat bobbing against his palm. 

“You do,” He murmurs, his voice a little rougher. With his opposite hand, he ever so gently touches your lips with the pads of his fingers, and like you’ve done it for him a thousand times before you let your mouth fall open. 

He drags his fingers over the curve of your lower lip again, and your cunt spasms around his cock where it's still buried inside you. He smiles at your reaction and then he hooks two of his fingers over your lip, resting on your teeth. 

You gasp sharply, your tongue pressing against the pads of his fingers. 

He waits, his patience a challenge, and then you melt. You dip your head forwards to accept his fingers into your mouth, letting them slide back on your tongue, your lips closing around them so that when you drag your head back you can suck them just a little. 

You can taste yourself on his skin and he groans, “Good girl,” 

Your core clenches again, but as his fingers slip free from your mouth you pulse your muscles again to tease him this time, “You’re easier to read than you think,” you tell him, “I know what you like too.” 

He smiles, full of cheek, and shifts back to roll his hips, “Yeah?” He slides his hand down, spreading it wide over your belly, “I like being inside you,” 

“You like,” You start but he shakes his head.

”I like being buried so deep I can feel it here,” He presses down with the heel of his hand and thrusts forwards, driving his cock into you, and the tight sensation of his cockhead punching into your g-spot leaves you moaning, all teasing forgotten at the sudden sensation of pleasure at his hands. 

Yunho drops over you properly now, gathering you back into his arms and pushing your legs back open wide with a tilt of your hips. He kisses you hard and then his hips start to pulse, “I like knowing this little pussy belongs to me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You grip down hard on his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” He tips you back, rolling into you, “open up for me,” 

You moan hard, arching into him. 

“Fuck,” He curses low in your ear, “sweetheart, you feel incredible,” 

You nod into his shoulder, “S-so do you, don’t stop,”

“The best thing I’ve ever felt in my life” He manages. 

“Yunho, god,” 

“That’s right,” He slips a hand under our leg, sliding up the back of your thigh to pin you open, “so good,” 

Hot need arcs up your spine, belly tight with burgeoning pleasure, and you shudder a broken sob into his skin, “Please, please,” 

He thrusts hard, groaning with every jut of his hips, “Fuck,” he pants, “you want to know what I really like?” 

“Yes, yes,”

”I like you like this,” His kisses travel over your slick skin, “messy, begging for me,” 

“For you,” You babble almost mindlessly. 

“I like you coming,” He moans, “I could watch you come forever,” 

“Fuck, god,” Your head falls back to the mattress. 

“I want to make you lose yourself,” His pace steadies, and he drops his hand from your leg to the sheets for better leverage, “I want to watch you go so cockdrunk you don’t even know what sounds you’re making, how loud you’re being for me,” 

“Yunho, oh my god,” Your moan is rough, deep in your chest. 

He drops his forehead to your hair and nods, “Exactly like that,” 

Your body is starting to move on its own, your thighs trembling, and your hips canting upwards to catch more friction on your clit as he fucks you, and you whine in heady need. 

In a flash, his hips lock down hard, your body arching into his chest as you start to see the bursts of color behind your tightly shut eyes, but he doesn’t stop moving. Yunho grinds down, rocking his hips to give you extra pressure, and with needy jerks of your body you hump artlessly up into him, pleasure rolling up from your clit as he cock sits heavy and thick inside you. 

His lips connect with your ear as he drops his body weight over you, hands gathering you close, “That’s it, greedy girl,”

Sparks roll up your spine and you moan into his shoulder. 

“That’s it,” His hand slips down and cups your ass as you shudder, “take it, take it,” 

You gasp sharply, nails digging into his shoulders, “Oh, god, oh fuck,” 

“There she is,” He says hot at your cheek, his face leaving heavily against yours, “there’s my girl,” 

You moan, and he circles his hips, grinding deeper.

“You like taking every inch of me, baby?” He flicks your nipple sharply, “You like knowing you were made for me?” 

Your orgasm feels like it’s a breath away, ready to pull you open in a snap, and you sob beneath him, “M-more,” your head falls back as you scramble beneath him, heels digging into the mattress as you arch and try to bring yourself up and over the edge. 

“Come for me,” He kisses you, wet, fast, “come on babygirl,” 

“Ah, ah,” You press your eyes tight, holding him like a lifeline as you reach for it, “p-please, I want to come for you so bad,” 

“That’s it,” 

The pressure in your body builds, but you can’t reach it, and you ache to push your hands between your thighs. In a flash, his hands pulse on your skin, and he kisses you once more before pushing up and away from your body and drawing his cock halfway out of your aching center. 

“No, no,” You reach for him, eyes fluttering open in the hazy dim. 

On his knees once again he starts to rub your clit, his thumb pressing firm circles, the slick sound of it making your eyes roll back. 

“God,” You curse, a ripple of pleasure running through you like a spasm. 

He licks his lips, watching your face intently as he works your swollen bud, “Yeah? Do you need this to come?” 

The husky tone of his voice makes it sound like dirty talk, but you know he’s also asking for real, learning your body for the first time. You nod, “Usually, but, it’s not,”  

“Shh,” He pulls back, sliding his cock out of your wet warmth and kissing your knee before letting your legs fall slack to the mattress and shifting to your side, “I want to give you what you need,” 

“You are,” You tell him as he kisses you, nuzzling into you. 

“I can feel it,” He reminds you as he slides behind you, spooning you now and caging you in with his arms, “I know what you need, let me give it to you,” 

You shudder, melting as his hands slide over your body, “Mm,” you sigh, “I was j-just going to say I don’t think I need it with you,”

“But it’s better?” He asks, lifting your leg and hooking a hand under your knee. 

You angle your hips with an arch of your back, opening yourself to him, and gasp as he directs his cock back into your slick hole, “N-no,” You manage, “I don’t know,” 

He kisses your shoulder, “Let’s find out,” 

With a swift punch of his hips forwards he seats himself again and you moan, gripping down on the pillow under your cheek. 

“There we go,” He croons and you moan into his bicep. He hums, fingers teasing your slit as he pushes in and out, “is it better because I’m bigger?” 

“Yunho!” You gasp as he thrusts again, head falling back against the top of his chest. 

“Do I hit your sweet spots, jagi?” His voice is hoarse with his own need. 

“Yes, god,” You moan. 

“Tell me,” His middle finger finds your clit again, “say it,” 

You babble a response through a taut moan, “You’re so big,” 

“And?” He bites down on your shoulder, rubbing faster.

“You’re the,” You gasp as his hips punch back and forth sharply, “oh, fuck, yes, you’re the biggest cock I’ve ever had,” 

“Good girl,” He moans, “that’s my good girl,” 

Hot pleasure rolls through you at his words and you whine. 

“Feels good?” He teases. 

“So good,” You manage, “so, so good,” 

“Let go,” He kisses your cheek, gritting his teeth to focus on working you with his fingers an the steady pulse of his hips at the same time, “let it go and come,” 

Your hand flies to his forearm, gripping onto him as you cry out, and he pants behind you, kissing any part of your skin he can reach in this position.

“Good girl,” He murmurs low, “just hold onto me,” 

He slides his other hand from your knee to your hip to brace you steady and then he starts to adjust the pace of his hips, still slow, but firmer now so that every snap of his hips strikes a wet smacking drumbeat through the room as he circles his fingers on your slick clit. 

Heat rockets through you, your nails digging into his forearm, and then you feel it. Just a little more will take you right over the edge, and you choke out a breathless moan, “Please, please,” 

“Come,”

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling, and when it hits you crack open in his arms. The wave takes you just the same as before, and distantly through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the muttered pleas of Yunho as he feels the rush of your pleasure through the bond.

You’re boneless, both of you shaking, and then he wraps his arms around you properly and rolls onto his back, your body laid prone across his chest. His cock stays deep inside your pulsing core as you turn, but with a hiss he jerks his hips back and pulls out. 

“Baby, oh my god,” Your chest is heaving, and you reach back for him, finding his cheek. 

He’s quiet, shuddering beneath you.

“You didn’t come?” You manage, still breathless.

He shakes his head against yours, “Don’t want this to end too soon,” 

“We have days,” You tell him, “now please, I want you to feel good,” 

His hands tighten on your hips as he weighs your words, and then with a slow shift of his hips you feel his cock start to press at your entrance again. He slips home with ease, and you moan at the sudden stretch of him again, his cock thick and pulsing with his almost orgasm. 

“I,” He pulses his hips once and groans, “oh, I’m not going to last,” 

“Don’t stop,” You urge him again, “please, just take me,” 

He moans, his stomach tightening, and then he starts to move.

He’s pumping in and out of you now, pinning your back to his chest with his arms banded around you as he rolls his hips and you can feel the tether in him start to fray. He’s getting close, but even without the bond you’d know it. His breath is thready, a hot pant against your ear, and your bodies slide together with slick sweat. 

He feels unreal, stretching you wide with every rhythmic stroke, but you feel his heart hammer when your legs start to fall closed, your walls tightening around him. 

“You’re mine,” He breathes, “s-so beautiful for me,” 

“All yours,” You sigh, and this time with intention you draw your thighs tight together. 

The position is tangled, muscle straining and almost an accident, but suddenly his cock has never felt bigger or thicker or perfectly positioned to hit that spot again and again. He groans, and holds your hips firmly to bounce you back down into every thrust as he chases his release.

Your head falls back over his shoulder, and you reach up to brace yourself on the wall behind your heads, your other hand still cupping his cheek and holding his face to yours. 

“Shit,” He curses, “so tight, fuck, babygirl,” 

You moan, “Please, yes, yes,” 

“So tight and,” he babbles against your cheek, “fuck, still taking every inch of me,” 

“So deep,” You gasp as his pace increases, and your eyes slam shut, a bubbling snap of pleasure rolling up your spine.

”God, I’m,” He shudders, moaning in earnest now, “b-baby, I’m close,” 

You feel his need, suddenly striking you through the unmasked connection of the bond, and though he doesn’t ask you for anything, beg you at all, you know exactly what to give him. 

You moan, arching your back to take his cock inside just a little more with every stroke, “Yunho,” your fingers lace into his hair and you turn your head to find his ear, “come,” 

He huffs, fingers pressing bruises into your hips.

”I’m all yours,” You tell him, voice husky, “this pussy is all yours, all yours,” 

“Mine,” His hips snap harder, a punishing pace, and you feel the taut edge of his pleasure. 

“Made for your cock, baby,” 

“Fuck,” 

“No one’s ever fucked me like this,” You pant, knowing exactly what your words will do to him. 

He groans, burying his face in your shoulder.

”C-come inside me,” You beg, “make me yours,” 

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips erratic, “Mine, mine,” 

“Yes, baby, please,” You rock your hips, taking over the rolling motion where he’s started to falter. 

“I’m,” His words are cut off with a groan, and his hips slam up twice more before he holds himself in deep and you feel the hot sensation of his cum pumping inside you. 

His orgasm yanks you down into your own in an unexpected flash of sensation, your vision fuzzy, head dizzy, and your body jerks in ecstatic fits and starts as you moan, wanton and wordless in his ear. 

“One more,” He murmurs, recovering from his own heady orgasm faster than you, his hand pushing between your locked thighs, middle finger circling on your pulsing clit, “just one more,” 

Your hips jerk with overstimulation and you whine, “I can’t,”

”Yes,” He kisses your forehead, bracing your body with one and while his other blissfully tortures your aching cunt, “come on, sweetheart,” 

“Yunho, oh, oh, God,” Your orgasm stretches, his fingers cresting you straight up into another shuddering peak. 

His body curls around you, dipping to the side when you jerk, holding you into his chest as he works you through it. The sound of his tender voice carries you up, “There we go,” he croons, “oh, god I love you,” 

“C-Coming,” Is all you can manage, and your body folds in on itself, your orgasm white hot and almost painful. 

He shudders as he feels you finish, and slows his fingers, “Good girl, come. I love you so much, can you feel me inside you, baby?” 

You manage a nod, moaning into the sheets, riding it out with rocks of your hips until it turns from pleasure to sharp overstimulation and you whine, pushing his hand away. 

“I got you,” He wraps you up tight, spooning you from behind, “shh, you’re okay,” 

Trembling, you pull his arms to your chest, using him as your anchor as he shifts his hips and finally uncouples your bodies.

“You’re okay,” He repeats, “just breathe,” He kisses your hair softly, soothing you with gentle touches as your breath returns. 

“M-mhm,”

”You’re perfect,” His lips travel to your shoulder, “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” You murmur, resting your lips on his knuckles. 

“Love you, love you,” He mutters against your skin, and you sink into him, a contented smile on your lips. 

You lay wrapped up together for what feels like hours, both of you coming back into your bodies slowly. His arms slacken, and you slowly roll onto your front, cheek against the cool sheets as you recover from the whirlwind of bonding.

He murmurs sweetness against your spine, massages circles into your hips, and little by little your mind reconnects too. 

Yunho sidles down in the bed, cuddling you from behind, “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head a little but you say, “Maybe a little,” 

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll fix you something,” He says, even though it’s your apartment. 

You smile and shake your head again, “Five more minutes?” 

He kisses your shoulder and you feel him nod, “Five more minutes,” 

Cocooned in his warmth, and in the perfection of your bed, you let yourself relax. 

More than five minutes have come and gone when he finally speaks again. Yunho’s fingers skate up and down your spine, slowly tracing each vertebrae like he’s making a mental map of you, “When did you get your first one?” 

“Hmm?” You sigh, looking slightly over your shoulder at him. 

“Tattoo,” He clarifies, now ghosting his touch over the large crane on your back, “you have so many, but when did you start?” 

You stretch in the sheets, and roll towards him, shifting onto your back now and twisting your arm to show him the delicate lines of your first tattoo, English script in faded black. desire.

He passes the pad of his thumb over the lettering and the corner of his mouth quirks up. 

“Not because of the song,” You laugh softly, “I was seventeen,” 

“Hmm,” He lets his fingers travel up, studying more of your lines of ink, “young,” 

He traces the lines of the flowers, the fan, the stippled black and gray twisting across your skin. 

“I know,” You tug the sheet up a little higher, tucking it around your naked body to ward off some of the chill of your apartment, “I just wanted to do something reckless for once, but then once I started,” 

He nods, listening, waiting for more. 

“I think I wanted to get under my parent's skin,” You admit, “they were already so disappointed in me, so I thought why not give them something to be really disappointed in?” 

He frowns a little, a crease between his brows, “I hate that you felt like that,” 

“I’m okay now,” You promise him, “Hana and I rarely see them, just holidays and phone calls on birthdays, that kind of thing.” 

He nods, pressing a kiss to your hair, “Still,” 

You give him a tiny shrug, and you find yourself reaching up to your soul mark and brushing it, “For a while I was just running, from them and then from this,” 

“Your mark?” He asks softly.

 You nod, “It was a reminder of that house, of how much they didn’t believe in it. They never even wanted Hana and I to daydream about it, to wonder what it would be like to find our soulmate. They were so set on us following the path they laid out, and for a long time the mark was a reminder of what I wasn’t supposed to want.” 

He swallows tightly, and you feel his discomfort at your words, the flicker of anger in his gut. 

“I’m alright,” You continue, “but the tattoos started like that. First something to provoke them, and then something to distract myself from seeing this. I thought about covering it, but,” 

“You did?” His eyes widen. 

“I considered it,” You tuck your hand in his and give him a squeeze, “but then I realized that the farther I got from believing this could happen for me, the closer I got to what they wanted all along,” 

He studies your expression for a moment and then scoots closer, tucking your bodies together and cupping your cheek, “When did you start believing it could happen again?” 

You remember it so clearly, the pact you made with Iseul, the lines you wrote in your journal that year. You smile and look up at him, “When I got the job at KQ, Iseul and I went out for celebratory drinks when I received the offer letter,” 

His expression softens, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

”I decided it was time to grow up,” You explain, “so we agreed that we would date, have fun, and keep looking for the one, but we’d never settle down for less than our soulmate, no matter how long it took to find them.” 

Yunho dips towards you, kissing you tenderly, “I love you,” 

Tucking into his chest you nod, “I love you too,” 

His arms loop around you, cuddling you so that you’re nestled into his warmth, “For what it’s worth,” he murmurs, his fingers carding through your hair, “however you came to them, they’re beautiful, you’re beautiful,” 

A brief flicker of tears pricks the back of your eyes and you press a kiss to his sternum, “Thank you,” you kiss him again, “I love them now, and now I get them for myself,” 

He hums, nodding with his lips on the crown of your head, nuzzling you gently. 

For a moment it’s quiet, just your heart and his beating in time against each other, but then your stomach tightens as you realize something you’ve been neglecting.

 You sigh heavily, “I need to call Hana,” 

“You haven’t told her?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

 “No, have you told your brother?” 

His hand stills on your back, “I texted him,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You texted him?” 

He nods, “Is that alright?” 

“Of course,” You say in a rush, “I just, I don’t know, I’m surprised.” 

“We don’t see each other often,” Yunho says, “but we’re close. It felt strange not telling him something this big in my life,”

You nod, “Exactly.” 

He brushes a hand up and down the length of your back again and then starts to untangle his body from yours, “How about this, can I use your shower?” 

“Sure,” You’re about to tell him where it is, all the little quirks, but he keeps going.

”After, I’ll run back to my place and pick up things for the next few days,” You strangely hate the idea of him leaving, but you know that was always part of the plan considering he didn’t bring anything with him, “while I’m busy give her a call,”

”It’s late,” You find yourself protesting. 

He smiles, “It’s not, you’re nervous,”

You rub at your chest, feeling the curl of anxiety there, “Yeah,” 

“She loves you,” Yunho reminds you as he pulls himself out of bed, “and she knows what having a soulmate feels like, she’s going to be so happy for you, for us.” 

“You’re right,” You breathe.

 “I know you miss her,” He adds softly, “and I know you want to tell her, let me give you the space to do that.” 

Warmth expands in your chest and all you can do is nod. 

He smiles wide, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then he stretches, “Alright, shower’s this way?” Yunho nods towards the obvious path towards the bathroom. 

You nod again, and he sighs, “Perfect,” 

He disappears down the hall and for a brief moment you’re alone with your thoughts. You let your gaze go unfocused towards the ceiling, and you just feel for a moment. You feel different, lighter and heavier at the same time, like all the cells in your body turned over at once, but the knotted rope between you and him feels thicker, corded, braided, unbreakably sure. 

For the first time in weeks, all of a sudden, you feel like you can call her. 

You rub your chest again, rolling out of bed and making your way across the lofted bedroom on slightly shaky legs before finding your robe on its familiar hook and wrapping it around yourself, a smooth silk in floral and dark red. With a deep breath, you pin up your hair and find your phone. The sound of running water comes through the bathroom door, so you make your way downstairs for a bit of privacy and to get a cool glass of water. Once you’re tucked into the familiar corner of your couch with a downy blanket over your lower half, you find Hana’s contact in your phone and you call. 

She picks up after a few rings, “Hello?” 

“Hey,” 

“Was your flight delayed?” She asks, her bright voice soothing you instantly, “You always call me when you get in,” 

“It wasn’t delayed,” You tell her honestly. 

“Ah,” She says, “did you crash immediately? Take a crazy nap? You know that will fuck with adjusting back to the time zone,” 

“Hana,” You sigh, and all at once you wish he was next to you. 

“I know, I know,” She makes a sound, tongue against teeth, “I’m just saying,”

  “I didn’t sleep, or I mean, I did on the plane,” 

“That’s good,” You hear glasses clinking on her side of the line.

  “What are you up to, am I interrupting?” You ask.

  “Hmm?” She says as if she didn’t hear you, and then corrects, “No, sorry, nothing really just some chores,” 

“Oh, good, I thought it might be too late to call,” You admit.

  “It’s only nine,” Hana says and you can practically picture her eye roll. 

Upstairs the sound of your shower taps turning off draws your attention and your eyes flick up to the landing. 

“So, your flight was okay?” Your sister’s voice in your ear brings you back to the present and you nod. 

“Yeah, listen,” 

“Oh,” She cuts you off, “Em wants to know how you liked Paris, you didn’t post anything on Instagram she was devastated,”

  Em, Emmanuelle, Hana’s wife and your sister-in-law, born in Korea but half French on her mother’s side, who spent every summer in Lyon. Of course she would want to know how your first trip to France was, and your head was so wrapped up in Yunho you didn’t even think to text her.

  “I loved it,” You tell your sister honestly, “so much, I’ll send you both some pictures as soon as,” 

“You better,” Hana interjects again, “Em’s right here she’s asking if you had time to see the city?” 

“A little, but, Hana,” 

The door upstairs opens, and Yunho quietly pads back to your lofted bedroom, one of your white towels slung low around his hips. His hair is wet, mussed from rubbing a towel through it, his chest pink from the hot water and steam. Just seeing him makes you feel at ease, and he meets your eyes, “You okay?” He whispers. 

You nod, and he searches for his clothes strewn all over the floor of your bedroom. 

“Hana, what?” Your sister prompts, and you realize it’s not the first time she’s said it, “y/n, are you okay? You sound weird,”

Suddenly, you’re deep in a memory. Hana’s tear streaked face in the hallway of your first apartment, a backpack on her shoulder and a defiant jut to her chin. Sixteen years old and standing her ground more firmly than you ever had in your life up to that point, the strength in her voice when she told you she found her soulmate and she wasn’t going to give her up. 

“y/n?” Hana says again, concern laced through her voice. 

You find Yunho on the landing, watching as he rubs a towel over his hair again, and the words finally tumble out, “I found him,” 

“You, what?” She asks, confused.

  “Hana,” His eyes flick to yours and you find yourself smiling, blush creeping back into your cheeks, “I found him,” 

The penny drops, “Oh my god,” 

”I know,” You reply, and Yunho grins, watching you from the landing.

  “Oh my god?” Hana all but shrieks and you laugh as she reacts, calling to Emmanuelle, voice muffled briefly as she shifts the phone. 

“I know,” You manage. 

“Is he French?” Hana babbles, “That would be insane, that would be crazy if both of us,”

  You duck your head in laughter, “What? No, no he’s not French,” 

“What countries were you in? How the hell did you bump into him - abroad of all places, that’s why it took so long, that’s what I was always saying,” She rambles a mile a minute, and it’s always so hard to slow her down once she gets going, barely taking a breath between sentences. 

“Hana,” You cover your mouth with your hand, “Hana, he’s not foreign, he’s Korean,” 

Yunho’s still smiling as he comes down the stairs, but he’s not dressed to leave, he’s dressed comfortably in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. Relief fills you with the knowledge that he’s not about to leave, and he watches you quietly as you try to navigate your sister as she jumps from conclusion to conclusion. 

  “That’s even crazier,” She says, “how the hell did you bump into another Korean outside of Korea while you were working constantly?” 

“Let her tell the story,” You hear Em’s voice in the background. 

“Am I on speaker?” You laugh. 

“You are now,” Em replies this time, “hi, y/n,” 

“Hey Emmie,” 

“I have your sister restrained,” She says, but you hear an irritated huff from Hana, “now, tell us what’s going on and this time Hana’s going to listen,” 

“Shut up,” Hana gripes quietly, with no real malice. 

“You love me,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hana says, “alright, I’m sorry, I’m listening,” 

Yunho waits patiently, but the moment you reach for him, he crosses from the foot of your stairs to your place on the couch. He had felt it, how much you needed him here, that much you’re sure of when he twines your fingers together. With his touch as a tether, you finally tell them, “I didn’t bump into someone random, and you cannot say ‘I told you so’,” you start off, “but, it’s Yunho. My soulmate is Yunho,” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the call. Hana is rarely stunned silent, but you wait. She knows the group well, from her teasing when you first started there all the way through listening to you tell her stories about work. There’s no doubt in your mind that she remembers your quietly guarded crush. 

“Is he treating you well?” She finally asks, emotion thread in her voice. 

“Yes,” You breathe.

  “And you love him?” 

“Yes,” 

She pauses, “And he,” 

“Yes, Hana,” You roll your eyes, but feel the rush of tears, “obviously,” 

Yunho brushes his thumb over your knuckles and gives you a squeeze. 

“God,” Hana says with a little gasp, “you’re bonded already, aren’t you?” 

You slide a little to the right to get closer to him, “We are,” you confess. 

For a moment you brace yourself, nervous at her reaction to not being told sooner, especially after everything you’ve been through together. At the anxious tumble of your stomach, Yunho separates your hands and reaches around to pull you into his chest and presses a kiss to your temple. 

All your fears disappear in a matter of seconds. Hana laughs sharply and then she’s right back to herself, “Oh my god, I don’t care I have to say it, I told you so.” 

You grin, a few tears spilling over, “Hey,” 

“When have you ever had a crush that lasted longer than a day?” She exclaims, “I knew it,” 

“Hana!” It’s Em who exclaims this time, taking the words right out of your mouth and you fall apart into laughter. 

Yunho laughs too, softly against your hair and you blush and cover your cheek with your hand at the knowledge he can hear your sister’s teasing words. 

“I’m just saying I knew,” 

“God, stop,” You curl into yourself, your face in Yunho’s neck, “you’re embarrassing me,” 

“Holy shit,” Hana exclaims, “is he there?” 

Yunho slides his hand over your thigh and smoothly shifts you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you, and you sigh, “Yeah, he’s here,” 

“You sound so happy it’s freaking me out,” 

“I am happy, Hana,” You confess, “I’m really, really happy.”

She takes a breath and you can hear the emotion caught in her voice too, “When can I come up to Seoul? We’re overdue for a visit,”

“Soon,” You promise her. 

“The minute you’re free,” She says, “Em and I will make the time, you just say when,”

“I’ll look,” You nod, relaxing into Yunho’s hold, “but soon, I promise.” 

“I want to meet him,” She insists.

“He wants to meet you both too,” You tell them, and Yunho nods against you. 

“His schedule must be crazy, but,”

“Han,” Em interrupts, and you can practically see your sister in law calming her wife with gentle hand motions. 

“I should go,” You finally say into the phone, “but I miss you,” 

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your back.

“I miss you too, Hani-ya,” You haven’t called her that in years, your beloved little sister who grew up too fast, but the familiar affection slips out of you with ease. 

“I love you,” She says, “I’m so happy for you, I’m so,” 

You swallow tightly and find Yunho’s hand again, “I know, it’s how I felt when you told me about Em,” 

Hana laughs, the sound wet with tears, “Oh my god,” she sniffs and you hear her voice muffled as she scrubs the tears from her cheeks, “I knew we’d both find them, mom and dad were too shitty for us not to be happy now,” 

You smile, nodding with your head on Yunho’s shoulder, “That I know for sure,” 

There’s a brief moment of silence, both of you collecting your own emotions, and then Hana sighs, “I’m sorry, I’ll let you go, but let us know about coming up.”

”I will,” 

“And, y/n,” Your sister says, a mischievous edge back in her voice, “tell him he better take care of you, okay? Tell him to pick you first, okay? Every time,” 

Your throat constricts, and Yunho’s lips brush against your forehead. Before you can get your voice back in control to answer her, he does it for you, “Tell her I already have, I will,” 

You clear the emotion from your throat, “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah,” Hana manages.

 “He’s got me,” You tell her honestly, “I promise,” 

Hana takes a breath, “Good,” she sniffles, “now stop talking to me and go get laid or something, if we keep talking I’ll keep crying,” 

You laugh a little at your sister’s attempt at deflection, “Yeah, or something,” 

“I love you, I’ll see you so soon, okay?” Hana says. 

“Soon,” You promise again. 

“Bye, unnie,” Em cuts in, affection in her voice, “we are so, so happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, “I’ll send you some pictures of France, I’m so sorry I forgot before,” 

“Ah, that’s okay,” Em says warmly, “I think you had better things to focus on,” 

Yunho squeezes your hand. 

“Take care,” She says, “we’ll see you soon,” 

“You too,” 

Em ends the call, and you let your phone slip back into your lap, letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion against him. 

Yunho stays quiet for a moment, giving you a second of space, and then he kisses you and leans down to find your eyes, “Baby?” 

“Yeah,” 

“You okay?” He murmurs. 

You nod, pressing your lips to his and sinking into him, “I am,” you reply softly when the kiss breaks, “thank you for staying,” 

“I realized I couldn’t go tonight,” He says, “I need to be with you a while longer,” 

You squeeze his hand still laced in yours.

Yunho’s eyes are glassy with his own unshed tears, and he swallows and blinks to get himself together before he brings your knuckles to his lips and gives you a tender kiss, “I will, by the way,” he says gently, “pick you first,” 

You know what he’s talking about, his life in the public eye and his new life with you behind the scenes. You feel his honesty, his confidence, the truth in his words, and all you can do is shake your head. You never want him in that position, especially after everything he’s worked for, “You won’t have to.” 

“But I will,” He promises it to you like a vow, sealing it with a kiss, “I always will.” 

“I will too,” You whisper, “I’m not giving this up,” 

“You won’t have to,” He echoes, a soft smile on his lips. 

His kisses are soft, tender now, and he holds you close as he reminds you of all the ways he loves you. Your quiet apartment cocoons you together, a pause in time just for tonight. Night ticks by and Seoul moves outside, but in each other’s arms you stay still, a stone jetty holding steady in the push and pull of the tide. 

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[burningembers91]

The Difference Between Men and Boys - Kim Do-Hyun x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

The Choices We Make The Beauty and her Beast

Synopsis: Kim Do-Hyun tries his best to stay away from you. But a chance meeting at a bar leads to a night neither one of you will forget

The bar reeked of stale alcohol and sweat; the floor covered in a permanent sticky residue from the countless drinks that had been dropped on the cheap tile. Kim Do-Hyun was drunk, for the first time in years. He’d always been able to handle his liquor, had always known when to stop. The biggest part of his job was staying in control, and alcohol hindered his ability to maintain focus. He’d always known when enough was enough, but lately he didn’t seem to care.

He hadn’t seen you since that night at the bar. He’d left for his next mission the day after, trying to block you entirely from his mind. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t let you go. He’d brought with him the jacket that you’d worn as he walked you home, the faintest traces of your vanilla perfume still lingering. If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, he could picture you so clearly. His men could tell something was off; their boss was still as sharp and ruthless as ever, but there was sadness behind his eyes. They knew better than to bring it up with him though; Kim Do-Hyun wasn’t a man who shared personal information, not even with his closest comrades.

He'd been back in Seoul for 6 weeks now, forcing himself to avoid your restaurant. Not seeing you was causing him physical pain, one that made his chest ache and his eyes burn. He’d barely been home since he arrived back, flitting from woman to woman, spending a few days with each of the girls he met on dating apps. He knew what he was doing, trying a fill a void that simply couldn’t be filled. These women weren’t you. Their laugh didn’t light up a room, their eyes weren’t brighter than all of the stars in the sky. Their very essence didn’t make him want to sink to his knees; not like you did. It was killing him being away from you, but you were better off without him.

He’d lost count of the number of drinks he’d had, his night a blur of beer and shots. The woman he was with had a shrill, piercing laugh, her acrylic nails digging into the bare flesh of his arm, like she was scared he’d try and run away if she let go. He wanted to run, wanted to run to you, but he couldn’t allow himself to damage you that way. You were too innocent, too pure and good for a monster like him. He was a murderer and a thief, looting and killing for his own gain, as well as the gain of powerful, corrupt men. He didn’t deserve you; he deserved to be in the dank, damp bar with a woman who he couldn’t stand, while he slowly drank himself into the abyss.

He didn’t notice you a few tables away, your face illuminated by the pink and purple neon lights above the bar. You were sitting on your own, nursing a drink as you wiped away the last of your tears. It had been weeks since you’d seen Do-Hyun. He completely vanished after he had saved you, and you couldn’t help but think you’d done something wrong. You missed him, missed his presence, however infrequent it had been. This was the longest you’d gone without seeing him, and it was tearing you in two. You’d decided to give the dating apps a try in a desperate bid to get him out of your head. You’d matched with someone who seemed nice enough online, but in person left far too much to be desired. Your date had been a chauvinistic pig, spending the whole evening talking about himself and his many achievements, though you doubted most of the stories were true. You’d only had two drinks before he invited you back to his, and when you politely declined, he told you in no uncertain terms how unattractive he’d found you and that he was only asking you back because he felt sorry for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your apartment, to the crushing silence that would inevitably envelope you. You knew you’d think of Do-Hyun, and you knew you’d break your own heart all over again. You weren’t even sure why you were so hung up on him. Your relationship had always been purely platonic, and yet you felt almost drawn to him. You sipped your lukewarm wine, playing the events of that night in your head again and again. Maybe he’d realised you were too weak, just a pathetic girl who couldn’t fend off a few rowdy drunks. He seemed like he’d be drawn to a mature, confident woman, not a girl who daydreamed about trekking mountains.

You looked up, and that’s when you saw him, hunched over the bar with a beer in his hand. A woman clung to him; her crimson red nails clutched around his bicep. Your eyes met at the same time, the world seemingly ceasing to turn.

Do-Hyun could tell you’d been crying. Your lips were puffy, and your eyes were bright with tears, your foundation streaked. He could barely hear the nasally screech of the woman next to him, so entranced by you. You couldn’t take your eyes off each other; every sight, sound and smell that wasn’t you completely gone from his mind.

“Go home,” he told the woman next to him, pushing his stool back. “What?” She laughed, her face falling as he pried his arm from her taloned grasp. “I said go home,” Do-Hyun snarled. “We’re done here.” He knew he was being a prick, but you were the only one who mattered anymore. You’d been crying, and he was going to find out who’d made you cry. And once he had, he’d make that person wish they’d never been born.

“You’re back,” you said, your voice hoarse with tears as he approached you. “I’m back,” he replied, sliding into the booth next to you. Your black velvet dress was impossibly short, the fabric riding high up your thighs. You looked good tonight, and Do-Hyun knew he was fighting a losing battle with his conscience. “Who made you cry?” he growled, his hand cupping your chin as he surveyed your tear-streaked face. You were still so beautiful, your fragility making you seem even more so in the pale neon lights of the bar. “Some asshole,” you mumbled, “it’s fine.” “It’s not fine,” he spat, “What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?” Do-Hyun could feel himself losing control, could feel his anger rising to the surface. He was usually so level-headed, but when it came to you, he seemed to lose all sense. “No,” you shook your head, “not like that anyway. He was just rude, and… he said some things… but it doesn’t matter, honestly.” “Tell me what he said.” Do-Hyun’s hand still cupped your chin, his sharp gaze piercing into you, like he was staring directly into your soul. His domineering presence was turning you on, igniting that fire in your belly as he commanded your attention. You couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away from the man who made everything else in the world seem so insignificant. “He asked me to go home with him, and when I said no, he told me I was ugly anyway, and that he was only doing it because he felt bad for me.”

Do-Hyun’s hand tightened around your chin, making you gasp. His thumb traced the outline of your lip, eliciting the softest, sweetest moan he’d ever heard. He’d regret this tomorrow, but tonight he needed to act on his desires. He needed to show you that man had been wrong; he needed to show you how badly he wanted you. “That’s because he was nothing but a boy. Do you know the difference between boys and men?” His finger traced your top lip now, your body trembling at his touch as you shook your head in answer to his question. Your eyes never left each other’s, the tension between you almost suffocating. You weren’t entirely sure you were breathing as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Boys don’t know how to treat a woman. But men do. It’s what we live for.” His lips brushed your earlobe, sending a shockwave of heat from your head to your soft, aching core. “Show me,” you whispered, your hands trembling you brought them up to rest on the back of his neck. “Show me how you’d treat me.”

Do-Hyun kissed you, hard. Months’ worth of pent-up frustration passed between you, your hands roaming each other’s bodies as his tongue met yours. His fingers traced a line up your thighs, teasing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Take me home,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he hooked a finger behind your lacy garment, sliding it deep inside you. His mouth swallowed your moan, and you wondered if anyone could see, or whether the table blocked the view.

You were so wet, so tight, and Do-Hyun knew you’d likely get caught, but his need for you far outweighed his common sense. He wanted you in his bed, your legs spread for him while he showed you just how much you meant to him. “Come with me,” he smiled, removing his finger from your tight core and placing it gently to your lips. You parted them for him, moaning as he slid the digit into your mouth. He’d always thought you were so innocent, but you were anything but.

 The taxi journey back to his was hazy, the two of you so lost in each other. He carried you up the stairs to his apartment, stopping every few steps to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. No one had ever treated you like this, had made your whole body burn with pleasure. You could sense his desperation for you, could feel it in the way he kissed you. Tonight, someone had made you feel so ugly, but right now Do-Hyun was making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

He sat you down on his bed, peeling your dress away from your body. Your curves were exquisite, the outline of your breasts and hips against his sheets driving him crazy. How your date had turned you down earlier was beyond him. But it was his loss, and Do-Hyun was going to show how much better off you’d be with him.

He kissed every inch of your body, starting from your forehead, down to your toes. Your skin was alight, every atom of your being tingling from his touch. He worked his way back up the delicate skin of your calves and inner thighs, before sliding your underwear down. You were soaking for him, your wetness dripping onto his sheets as his tongue traced through your slick folds. The sound you made as you cried out was fucking heavenly, and Do-Hyun moved his tongue against you in confident, assured strokes. “So fucking wet,” he whispered, his fingers sliding into you as you arched your hips. “Be a good girl and let go for me. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers.”

His authoritative tone was unlike anything you’d heard before. He could somehow boss you around and yet make you feel so special at the same time. “Don’t hold back,” he growled, his thumb pressing into the sensitive nub of your clit as he coaxed you towards the blissful edge. “I know you’re a dirty girl. Show me how dirty you are.” The sound as you came for him was guttural, your body wracked with blissful sobs as your soft walls contracted around his thick digits.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, stroking your cheek softly as you came down from the edge of ecstasy. “So good for me.” Your body shook for him, your hands pulling his face to yours. Your desire for him overwhelmed you, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Fuck me,” you pleaded, so desperate to feel him inside of you. “Please. I need you.”

He surveyed you, shaking on his sheets as your wetness leaked down your thighs. He’d never felt like this with any of the random women he’d brought back before, had never been so enamoured with a person before. He couldn’t deny you anything, not when he wanted it so badly as well. “Think you can take it?” he teased, his cock aching as he watched you nod vigorously. He removed his underwear, lining up against you as he pushed himself inside of you.

The feel of him stretching you out was perfection, the feel of his hips thrusting into you bringing you to the brink again almost instantly. He filled you so perfectly, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep within you that no one had ever reached before.

Your whimpers were his undoing, the sweet sounds punctured by each thrust of his hips. His body shuddered as he painted your tight walls with his seed, your fingers gripping his hair as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

He held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He told you how he always went back to the same restaurant because of you, how he thought of you on his long trips away. He told you he wanted to make you happy, to show you how a real man behaved.

As the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, and the harsh light of day broke over the horizon, Do-Hyun knew he was in too deep. But even as he sobered up, he realised he didn’t care. You were everything he wanted, the only thing that mattered to him in this cursed life. it was selfish of him to want you when his life didn’t allow for normal relationships. But he could no longer deny himself, not when he’d had a taste of you. he really was a monster, enchanting an innocent girl, knowing full well he didn’t deserve her.

But Do-Hyun was hooked on you, and nothing would ever be able to tear him away.

[octuscle]

Exchange student: Berlin, Germany

October 01, 2024

Brad had come to Berlin as an exchange student because it was supposed to be the party capital of Europe. He was looking forward to a semester of spring break. But he quickly became disillusioned. There was hardly anyone walking around at the Technical University who looked anything like Spring Break. Most of them were dressed in black, with short hair and pale faces. Brad stood out like a sore thumb. And apart from that, Berlin was very different from what he had imagined. He had been told that Germany was so incredibly clean. Berlin was dirty and run-down. The people were unfriendly. The weather was terrible. By the time he moved into his room in the run-down student dormitory, which had probably last been renovated in the 1980s, he was homesick for Providence.

Tonight was a faculty welcome party. The building was an old factory hall, a ruin. The music was just one thing: deafeningly loud. The people at the party were all stoned or high on pills. It stank of sweat, cigarette smoke and sweet energy drinks. Brad wondered whether he could still change universities. Munich was supposed to be much more civilized than Berlin. Someone gave him a funny-looking pill. It was about 02:00 when Brad left the party. His sweater had disappeared. But it had been better than he had feared.

November 05, 2024

Monday was the day Brad recovered. There weren't usually any really good parties on Mondays. And if there were, he could make an exception. In fact, Brad was the go-to person for many of his fellow students when it came to where to go anyway. Brad was usually extremely well informed. Not necessarily about life at university… He had let his attendance at lectures slip a little in the first month. But hey, there was still ages until exams. Tonight was encore.une.fois at the OX! Of course Brad was on the guest list. From 21:00 he was in the gym, pumping up his muscles. And from 01:00 he was on the dance floor. Shit, he had expected something like Springbreak. How boring Springbreak was! Real life was raging here. All it took was a few pills, Red Bull and the right beats. And that was definitely the case today!

At 05:00 the music went off and the cleaning light came on. Brad checked his messages to find out where the best after-hours party was. There were no important lectures on Wednesdays anyway. And he was still far too wound up to sleep.

December 20, 2024

Uni was over until the new year. Actually, he should have been back in Connecticut by now. But Brad wanted to take at least this weekend to Berghain. Moritz had become his friend and business partner. The two were the shooting stars of Berlin's party organizers. Brad had collected 39K followers in the last four weeks alone. His party outfits defined what bouncers wanted to see in the clubs. Normally, DJs had groupies. Or musicians. Moritz and Brad always had a whole cluster of guys and girls hanging around them, basking in their presence and hoping to get shagged by one of them. Particularly lucky ones claimed to have been fucked by both at the same time. Whether this was true was debatable. But as a legend, it was certainly a cool story.

Their gas masks were elaborate custom-made masks that gave off a well-dosed mixture of poppers and laughing gas. Not that the two of them needed it. But it made the intoxication of a party night perfect. There were always two spare masks and the necessary cartridges in their rucksacks. To recharge their gas masks. Or to let very privileged fans share in their intoxication. It was 03:00. Too early to decide whether anyone would get that privilege tonight. Now it was time to dance. The way they only danced at Berghain.

[scribblue]

@acksolotel618 Got inspired by this post and ended up using it as a writing prompt for a short scene with Zane and Garmadon!!

You can read it on Ao3 here , or after the cut

❆ A Lesson In Humanity ❆

Zane speaks to Garmadon about their shared history of being manipulated emperors.

{ 940 words, no major warnings }

"I was once like you."

The words landed heavily on Garmadon's shoulders, yet with further consideration he refused to believe they carried any real weight. Merely a vapid placation, or worse, outright mocking. He furrowed his brow. "You couldn't possibly understand me, metal man."

Zane stared back evenly. His eye contact was unwavering, unnatural. It felt as though he could see through Garmadon's very chemical makeup, and was intent on dissecting him down to his barest components like a hunk of biological technology. The nindroid stood on the catwalk connecting their underground base of operations to the elevator up to the monastery. The rest of the ninja had left to take a break, following a particularly intense—and unsuccessful— training session between Lloyd and Garmadon. Garmadon had to admit his surprise, if only internally, at the company he now found himself forcibly entertaining; Zane had never made an effort to speak to him one-on-one, and the cold shoulder was reciprocated.

"You are free to believe that, if a sense of individuality brings you comfort,” Zane said. “However, it is an inaccurate assessment."

Garmadon rolled his eyes. "Thank you for reminding me why we never spoke. You may leave now,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss him. 

Zane remained. An unsurprising development, and an aggravating one. "Do you not wish to know of our similarities?”

A frown crossed Garmadon’s face, and curiosity clouded his thoughts. He was quick to disperse it with a shake of his head; Zane was clearly trying to get under his skin, force his guard down so that he would ease up on Lloyd. It would never work. Mastering Oni form took an iron fist, not a distracted mind. He turned away and clasped both sets of hands behind his back, pretending to focus on the computers for a long moment.

Not long enough, evidently, as Zane made his continued presence known. “I am going to tell you anyway.”

“Great,” Garmadon muttered.

“When I was trapped in the Never Realm, I was manipulated into becoming the Ice Emperor: a cold and ruthless entity who spared no one in his quest for retaining power. My true self was hidden from me for sixty years, until Lloyd helped me restore it,” Zane said, a waver of emotion in his robotic voice. “It has been some time since it happened, yet I still feel the effects of this event to this day.”

“Hmm.” Garmadon pressed a couple buttons on the keyboard in an attempt to make his distraction look convincing. “I fail to see how that relates to me.”

He heard Zane take a small step forward. “When you became Emperor of Ninjago, that emperorship was predicated on lies and manipulation by Harumi. She encouraged you to reject your humanity, just as my advisor Vex did to me. And I am willing to bet you have also suffered lasting effects.”

Garmadon scoffed. “Please,” he said, turning a tight-lipped scowl towards Zane. “I am an oni, I never had humanity to reject…that is, until Vinny of NGTV news took me under his council. And even so, such humanity would not benefit me here. Lloyd needs to learn to release his oni form, and I can assure you I am in the perfect condition to do so—no ‘lasting effects’ as you say.”

“Perhaps that is true. Or perhaps you only wish it to be.” Zane’s pointed stare finally wavered, drifting to some far-off corner of the room. “I have spent much of my own spare time wrestling with the reality of my situation, versus what I wish to believe… It is difficult to grapple with the truth that I have hurt innocent people while under another’s influence. It sometimes holds me back from being the best version of myself that I can be, for fear of hurting others again.”

That did sound familiar, not that Garmadon was willing to admit it out loud. He was often plagued with memories of his short-lived reign over Ninjago, and the atrocities committed under his hand. He was loath to say he regretted any of them, in fact he wasn’t sure he was even capable of regret– nonetheless, the flashbacks were bothersome, and the more he attempted to embody “goodness”, the more frequent they became. “So…what? You believe I am compromised in some way? I can assure you I’m not.”

“I believe you have begun the process of betterment, without addressing the root of the issue.”

“...And what might that be?”

“Your relationship with Lloyd. You hurt Lloyd during your time as Emperor. Now, your beliefs and goals are changing, but you have not mended the rift that has grown between the two of you, or attempted to grapple with the effects your actions have on both yourself and others… you cannot expect to find success in the present, until you face your past,” Zane said. His even tone and matter-of-fact delivery did nothing to lessen the blow of his words. “You may not believe it, but Lloyd is your humanity. As he was mine, when I needed it most. Do not forget that he needs you too.”

Something twinged in Garmadon’s chest. He had half a mind to blame it on his incomplete resurrection, and perhaps that truly was the case; complicated emotions could simply be a byproduct of his botched vessel. He averted his gaze and said nothing. 

Zane didn’t attempt to break the silence, either. He lingered for just a moment longer, before turning heel and wordlessly leaving the room, where Garmadon remained alone with his thoughts. 

“…I won’t,” he said, knowing there was nobody there to hear him.

[gayofthefae]

If you truly ignore Byler proof, there's a 50% chance. Because there is a 50% chance that a random guy in Arizona (with the last name Duffer) opened his laptop and typed out "boys kiss" and emailed it to a bunch of actors. For all the talk on how difficult it is to get a single shot, writing that is actually surprisingly simple and fast.

You're convinced that the people in your real life you believe are straight are, and honestly? That's what this is about. You can process that later, but do process it. Mike, however, is completely made up. Fictional. Doesn't exist. He is a puppet controlled by writers with free will. His relationship with a woman has 0 bearing on his queerness, (especially if he's bisexual, jesus christ guys, dating El doesn't disprove bisexuality).

At most baseline of a love triangle I'd say it's a coin flip.

People act like it's harder to write "Mike kisses Will instead" than to write, say "Nancy kisses Steve instead" because of their OWN mental block of him being queer. But there aren't actually any extra steps. All Mike has to do to have feelings for Will is say he does. All Finn has to do is act like it.

It is not as difficult to make a character queer as it is for you to accept them as queer, and that's what people are equating. It does not require any additional effort than any other situation in which one character is wanted by two characters. It is equally easy to put them with either one.

People act like just because Mike doesn't currently have overt feelings for Will that there are lots of steps on the road to that. There aren't.

The most planless, bullshit way of doing it they could do is to say "everything up until now - the I love you, all of it, was 100% true, but in this year and a half time jump, I have developed feelings for Will". A slightly better quality, equally as easy one would be "I believed everything I said and did was true, but I realized during this time jump that this whole time I actually had feelings for Will. I believed my actions but that doesn't make them true." Rewatchable, which we know they want.

Then, of course, the most commonly understood one, "I really believed I/was in love with you seasons 1-4 but learning that Will was the one behind the painting and that he knew me so well and made me feel so loved and felt that way made me realize I love him now." Cyrano, of course. We've seen it before, we know how it ends.

I, of course, prefer the more complicated, and therefore more accurate - and simply more interesting - versions, but this is on the assumption that they did not intend it and changed their minds when they sat down for season 5 or something.

Still easy as hell. So fucking easy. Tell Finn to look goofy at Will, don't even have to right lines about it, then have him talk to El and say any of the above lines. Written as bad as that, it doesn't totally matter. He will then, canonically and from the show's beginning when you rewatch it, be queer. Period, full stop. Tap Finn Wolfhard on the shoulder and whisper "be gay" and your job is done. It is very, very easy, actually.

People think that because represents him, they know everything about him automatically. But there are cases where you aren't him. You're the people around him. And just like them, you think he's straight. There are things I think about him that are projections of me, not analyses of the character. Yours is that he's straight. That came from you, not him.

People only act like it's hard because it's hard for them to wrap their heads around. But these aren't people who are magnetically repelled based on gender attraction. They're barbie dolls you're mashing together. You can pick whichever ones you want.

You may be Mike Wheeler. But the writers are 2x06 Erica Sinclair.

if a character canonically has a crush on another character (assuming it's legal), that means that the ship is a possibility. it's on the table. there's a chance of a relationship there. maybe if one of the characters is 100% canon confirmed not to be attracted to the gender of the other character, you could argue there's no chance, but unless they've outright stated so, it's on the table. it's an option. stop telling us byler isn't fucking possible. call it unlikely if you want - it's still an option now, whether you like it or not. get the fuck off my ass

[parasolladyansy]

10 People I’d Like to Know Better Tag

Got tagged by @annchovi! LOL, let’s do this! ^o^/

—

Last Song: ÅMARA (sasakure feat. Hatsune Miku & KAITO) - there is a very cool Breath of the Wild / Tears of the Kingdom animation with this song by Dogfish!

Favorite Color: light blue 🩵 most of what I own is this color (like this blog lol) or like my cloudy clothes - some examples below! ☁️

Even my engagement ring is a beautiful light blue topaz - just as a reminder that you don’t have to have a diamond if there’s a color or stone that means more to you! 💍

Last Book: I actually can’t remember (I read a lot of random books from the library), so I’ll just give a shout out to one of my favorite graphic novel series, “Wonder Cat Kyuu-Chan”! Very, very wholesome. Might just reread them! 📖

Last Movie: again, I’m not sure (because I don’t watch a lot of movies lol). Might’ve been Transformers ONE (Very good! Very true to the source material!).

If this is for the “last movie I saw in theaters”, it was Wicked (can’t wait to watch part 2 even if part 1 was a marathon)

—

Last Game: Still Tears of the Kingdom, though I’ve also been playing a special new save in Pokémon Sword, hehehe! ⚔️

Last Show: Bee & Puppycat 🎀

I prefer to watch the YouTube series (including the pilot!), then watch Lazy in Space from episode 5 - episodes 1-4 is a retelling of the YouTube series & I don’t like it as much lol.

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory: Sweet! 🧁 Though I have this thing where I eat a sweet & then want something savory, & vice versa lol XD

Here’s two of my favorite baking books - I’ve made many wonderful desserts from both, they’re very simple to follow, & just about every recipe has a suggested flavor variation!

Relationship: married to my favorite person in the whoooooooole multiverse…whose birthday is tomorrow today (oops, past midnight)! Send him some birthday wishes! 🎂

I’m gonna make him a spice cake from the Snacking Cakes book, & give him an updated matching phone wallpaper (since this current one I made is a couple years old lol) 🩵🩵🩵

Last Internet Search: apart from searching for images for this silly tag Deerling images for my Deerling’s birthday gift (might be kinda late - my schedule’s been thrown all the way off lately =7=)

—

Tags if You Wanna Play!

@nartothelar

@theoddbun

@choochooboss

@djfan-naftv

@askdepotagentjosh (as Josh lol)

@beewitched-monday

@grubbin22

@gaysealprobably

@leech-eyez

@waywardstation

[greenerteacups]

What did you think about Katara and Aang ending up together? Did you ship them or Zutara?

Also, if you watched The Legend of Korra, what did you think of that show’s treatment of Katara’s character?

My beloved friend in Christ, look me in the eye and tell me you don't know what I shipped when I watched that show. Look at me. You know. You know damn well.

AS FOR KATARA IN KORRA for me the key part of accepting her character shift in the second series is that she's supposed to be like 90. I don't know anybody who doesn't seriously chill out when they're 90. She's pretty much at the end of her life. Her husband's dead, her brother's dead, Toph fucked off to live in the swamp, Suki has been erased from the collective consciousness a la Spiderman, and ninety-something Zuko is off somewhere riding around the country on a DRAGON in full ceremonial garb, doing recon missions for the new avatar and hunting terrorists. (That last one is awesome, and I have no notes. That boy's doing what he's meant to. I still think they should kiss. But that's not a writing critique, that's just what my heart feels is true and good.)

More generally, the sequel series doesn't give us much of the passion or lovable high-handedness she had in the original, but she was also a teenager. I have to give the writing space to bend and stretch around a 70-year time jump, and that leeway includes the possibility that Katara majorly chills out once her home is no longer under imperial occupation and she's not regularly enlisted in armed combat to defend the fantasy Buddha. Or she just got it out of her system and tapped out around 30 to have kids and live luxuriously off whatever gratitude-annuities she gets from Every Nation In The World. I like to imagine she had some adventures in her 20's and 30's leading the reconstruction effort in the Earth Kingdom, made a reasonable contribution to the waterbending academies in Republic City, decided that she could leave the rest to Sokka and Toph, and went home to enjoy life at home in peacetime. It's not the most dramatic or glamorous life, but I never get the idea that Katara wants either of those things. I think girl did her part, got her happy ending, and decided to stay there. Frodo sailing West at the end of the book? Couldn't be her! The Shire was saved, but not for you? Nope! Not here! Not Katara! She can go back to the Shire, thank you very much! She freed her homeland from a century-long imperial occupation, and she's going to march her ass home and enjoy it, thank you! Fighting the Red Lotus? Leave a voicemail. She's out teaching all the girls in the village to throw ice spears the size of a pike. She will Catch You Guys Later.

I've heard complaints that it feels like Katara didn't have any role in the post-imperial reconstruction process, and while she maybe doesn't found an institution or get a formal position of power, I think the real complaint is that we don't know enough about her to say. All the other Gaang members have a Thing that sort of represents what their goals and values were after the end of the first series. Zuko was Fire Lord (and got a sickass fucking dragon), Toph started the Republic City police (admittedly unexpected Lawful Toph Moment), Sokka becomes a city councilor for R.C. and then Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, Aang refounds the Air Nomads and also is the Avatar for the next 70 years. Which are visible and lasting marks of impact that make it easy to imagine how the others spent their time. That doesn't mean Katara didn't spend her time doing worthwhile and productive things, but we don't see them. We do know that she got bloodbending outlawed in the United Republic, and she became a "master waterbender" who's called in to consult on Korra's development both in her capacity as a martial arts expert and in a broader strategic/political way as one of the premier living experts on what it takes to be the Avatar. We don't see her much, but we do get the idea that she has plenty of respect from the people who matter.

It makes me a little sad she's not included in some of the stories we hear about the postwar Gaang exploits, like Toph and Sokka's work in Republic City, or early clashes with the Red Lotus. She's the best waterbender in the world and you guys saved the world together as teenagers; it feels like she should've been riding shotgun on some of these missions. But I try to make peace with it on the grounds that if she's not out there hunting down terrorists, it's because she's tired, goddammit. She took down a dictatorship at 15. She's been ass-whooping fascists for longer than most characters in the show have been alive. Katara is too cool of a character for any lack of detail to make me think she wasn't doing stone cold shit well into her fifties.

[theballadofharkness]

Witch hunt (pt. 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Your first day at Harkness and Vidal Private Investigators is begins and so does your first case.

Words: 2.3K

A/N: Part 2 is here! Please let me know what you think and any requests of how you’d like this to go! No smut this chapter either unfortunately but it’s coming…🪻💜

“Lorna over here!”

“Give us a smile Lorna!”

“Lorna turn around!” Camera shutters flashed brightly as she walked out of the bar and into the white streets of East View, her emerald green dress glistening under the street lamps.

Fine, just the one. Lorna looked over her shoulder, her red lips flashing a smile for her admirers. She knew that she’d undoubtedly be signing prints of this very smile by daybreak, decidedly less glamorous once she had wrestled Alice out of bed and made sure she was ready for the day before she headed to the studio. A shiver ran down her spine as her body acclimated to the cold weather of the winter's night, scrunching her nose as a snowflake landed on its tip. Time for home. Perhaps if her driver ran a red light or two she’d be home before Alice fell asleep. Alice was always nicer when she was half asleep. Most teenagers were.

Thankfully, her driver was waiting outside, opening the car door like the true gentleman she paid him to be. “Alright that’s enough” he stepped in front of her as she climbed in, grabbing her shawl from the backseat and wrapping it around her shoulders, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to get the blood flowing again.

As she gazed out of her window, hand propping up her chin, she noticed some commotion outside a club, or what she thought was a club. Perhaps the kids at her show had decided to utilise those fake ID’s to keep the party going. As the car approached closer to the neon green lights she inspected the scene intently, trying to garner just what was going on. In the middle of the group, still and silent, was a man in a mask. A red skull of some kind with sharp white teeth and yellow sunken eyes. Thin black tendrils of hair obscured her view of the monster's face but whatever it was made her shiver. She felt as if it was looking right at her. Waiting. “Can you hurry up?” She broke the gaze with her masked devil and turned to her driver. “I want to make it for Alice’s bedtime.”

~ 20 years later ~

“Morning” you regarded Billy as you approached the purple door.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here so early?” He asked, clearly too tired to engage in any pleasantries or small talk.

“I work here. As of today, I thought I’d make a good first impression and Agatha failed to tell me when to come in so I guessed.” you shrugged, walking past him and punching in the key code to enter.

“Oh! Well I like to get here before Agatha, you know take time to clean up her office, make her coffee, get her files for the day's work out on her desk…” He rushed to catch up with you

“She wasn’t joking then when she called you her pet then” You chuckled. “I can see you as an eager springer spaniel”

“I’m not her pet!” He protested, passing you on the stairs to unlock the door to the office. “I’m her apprentice and I happen to be a vital member of the team- I swear I locked this last night…” he frowned as he pushed open the door which was already ajar.

You both peered into the office to find a woman pacing absently around the room, one hand stuffed in her leather biker jacket pocket, the other holding a cigarette.

“Sorry this is a no smoking building” Billy plucked up the courage to approach the leather clad woman waiting in the office, the sound of her heavy boots against the wooden floor reverberating around the room.

“Sorry teen” she dropped the butt into an old cup of coffee perched on his desk. “So… the famous Agatha Harkness doesn’t do mornings or is too busy to show up to her office?” she turned to regard him fully.

“It’s Billy. ” he shot back, hanging up his backpack by the door.

“And you are…?” The woman looked you up and down

“How did you get into the office?” You asked instead, feeling less charitable than Billy, to share any personal details before you found out why she was standing in Agatha’s office.

“I’m a cop. Eastview,” She shrugged. “Or… was a cop I guess. So are you going to get me an appointment with Agatha or not?”

“Yes! Y-yes of course. So um, how can we help you?” He scrambled to get a pad and a pen to helpfully begin taking notes. You were less helpful.

“Why don’t you make an appointment for Miss Harkness like her usual clients and maybe I won’t mention the whole breaking and entering thing.” You crossed your arms.

“No need kitten, I’m right here” An imposing voice filled the room, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge. She was here. “How can I help you?” she turned her attention away from you to whoever had broken into her office. You couldn’t help but feel the pang of jealousy as her bright blue eyes no longer gazed upon you.

“Alice. Alice Wu Gulliver. Heard you were good at solving mysteries” She shrugged noncommittally, though with the way she hadn’t untensed her shoulders you guessed this was a bigger deal than she was downplaying it to be.

“The best” Billy butted into the conversation.

“It’s true, I really am exceptional” Agatha said smoothly, her tone taking on an air of superiority as she strode past you, swishing her long coat dramatically as she adjourned to her private office in the back where the ‘Vidal’ from ‘Harkness and Vidal Private Investigation’ had been scratched off the printed glass so aggressively you were surprised the pane hadn’t shattered. “Kitten. Follow.” she called behind her, your feet scrambling to follow as Billy smiled apologetically at the woman you now knew to be Alice for Agatha’s theatrics. “I want you to take notes” she instructed before she beckoned Alice into the dimly lit room, blinds shut to keep out the harsh glare of the morning sun. She leaned back in her chair, appraising Alice with narrowed, calculating eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“I want you to find someone for me.” She looked around the room as she shoved both hands in her pockets nervously. “I don’t have much, but with one of my moms songs in that new A24 witch movie I’ll get some royalties.”

“Wait… you're Lorna Wu’s daughter?” Your eyes widened in recognition.

“Lorna Wu? As in Lorna Wu and the Coral Shore?” Billy poked his head round the door, revealing that he’d been eavesdropping on Agatha’s meeting much to her disdain.

“Uh yeah.. Yeah I am.”

“Holy shit” you smiled at her “my mom loved that band. She wanted the Ballad of the Witches Road played at her funeral” you shared with her, feeling Agatha’s gaze fall back to you, tilting her head as if deep in thought. Your cheeks flushed, maybe you’d shared too much. “Sorry you were saying”

“I uh… I want to know what happened. To my mother.” She addressed Agatha.

“Didn’t she die on her last tour?” Billy frowned. “I wikipediaed her for my 10th grade hero project.. Her car caught on fire after it skidded off the road…it was a tragic accident”

“I don’t buy it.” She turned to him sharply. “Before she… before the fire she became paranoid. She made me get a tattoo of some kind of protection symbol to ward off curses… I was only 13. I think someone… something… was after her. Look she was… different… but she wasn’t crazy. I used to be a cop I’ve seen crazy.” She looked at Agatha pleadingly.

“Why now?” Agatha asked her, leaning forward over the desk into her personal space to study Alice’s face closer. “Why does Alice want to find out what happened to mommy now?”

“Excuse me?” Alice instinctively pulled back, tucking a piece of orange hair behind her ear nervously. “I.. I guess I’ve had the time to think about her. Had a string of bad luck, lost my job at the station… got a job in security… lost that… times like this you miss your mom” she explained, her eyes shifting to various points in the room, unable to hold eye contact. You suspected that her tale of recent misfortune wasn’t the whole story but you didn’t want to encroach on Agatha’s meeting with Alice by butting into her interview. You made a note of it for later.

Why now??? Doesn't add up.

“Ok” Agatha clapped her hands together as she rose from her desk. “Billy will break down the costs at his desk. We will be in touch”

“If you’d like to follow me Miss. Wu-Gulliver” Billy opened the door to let her out.

“Alice is fine” She mumbled as she followed him out the room.

You waited till the door swung back closed and turned to Agatha, breath caught in your throat as she looked up from her paperwork, her sharp, knowing eyes fixing on you like she already had the answer to a question you didn’t know was being asked. “So, what did you think?” She asked you conversationally, though you gathered you were being tested.

“She’s hiding something. I don’t buy that after over 20 years, she suddenly decided to put all her non-existent finances towards digging into her mothers death.” You tried to sound confident in your deductions, taking a step back from the desk to put some space between the two of you so your answers could remain coherent. If she was indeed testing you, you planned to pass with flying colours.

“Oh? Well do continue Sherlock” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. It wasn’t a request.

“She couldn’t hold eye contact with you the whole time she was in the office. She was fidgeting nervously, playing with her hair, fiddling with the things in her pockets, pacing up and down the office before we arrived… She’s worried. And along with this string of bad luck she’s been having… Maybe she’s worried that whoever was after her mom is after her. Maybe that’s why she’s suddenly so interested in revisiting the past all of a sudden. Worried enough that she’s prepared to tank her finances into you. She had a hot topic shirt under that leather jacket. From her previous work in policing I’d say she's working at mall security which is minimum wage at best… definitely not enough disposable income to pay for you if she wasn’t sure this was her only option.” You bit your lip to stop speculating any further, feeling far too observed to continue.

“Look at you superstar” She leaned back with a quiet understated confidence that was just so Agatha. “You’ve been holding out on me,” she purred, tilting her head.

The room felt smaller now, the weight of her presence settling over you like a heavy cloak. Agatha leaned back in her chair, a smirk curling the corner of her lips. Her fingers drummed lightly on the dark wood, a rhythm that made your pulse quicken.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you. Agatha leaned forward, the drumming of her fingers stopping as she rested her chin on her interlaced hands.

“Oh, I think you do,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re clever, kitten. Too clever to play dumb with me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as she stood abruptly, the chair scraping back just enough to make the air crackle with tension. Her heels clicked softly on the floor as she moved around the desk, and before you could step back, she was in front of you, impossibly close. Her perfume was heady, intoxicating, mingling with the ever-present scent of lavender.

“Agatha, I—”

She silenced you with a look, her lips quirking into that signature smirk of hers. “You talk too much,” she teased, her voice low and velvety. “Why don’t we go back to not talking hmm”

Before you could process what was happening, her hands were on your shoulders, firm but not unkind, guiding you back until you felt the edge of the desk press against you. The world narrowed to the space between you and her, the soft rustle of fabric and the sharp, electric intensity of her gaze. Her fingers trailed up to your jaw, tilting your face toward hers.

And then she kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative or shy. It was confident, commanding, the kind of kiss that demanded surrender. Her lips moved against yours with a purpose that made your knees weak, the desk behind you your only anchor. Time seemed to stop, the world outside her office ceasing to exist. When she finally pulled back, her breath mingling with yours, she let her fingers linger on your jaw, her thumb tracing a lazy line along your cheek.

“Now,” she said, her voice a husky murmur, “be a good girl and fetch me a coffee from Mrs. Hart’s bakery, we have a long day ahead of us.”

You stared at her, eyes wide and your heart racing, utterly captivated. “Anything for you Miss. Harkness” you breathed against her lips, lips trailing across her jawline and down her neck till you heard her breathing hitch. “Anything” you repeated softly before pulling away and hopping off the desk, making sure to walk with an added sway to your hips. You had a feeling that whatever she wanted, you’d end up giving it to her.

[marshmellin]

Star and Stone, Ch. 12 | Last High King of the Elves of the West

“I do dislike asking again, Elaniel, but—”  “—You still have time to stop yourself, Elrond,” she said flatly as she began eating her salad.  And when Elrond looked to Gil-galad, his eyes pleading for help  — any help — he found only mild amusement. “Chief Mason Elaniel has made her thoughts on the matter plain, Lord Elrond,” he said smoothly, taking a sip of wine.  You’re outnumbered. She’ll agree with you most of the time, Elrond. The two of you are about to gang up on me for the next three thousand years, I can sense it. But she’ll never side with you on this. And I am a bold man, but I’m not asking for you again. 

-> COMPLETE! F FOR FIX IT: Explicit for rare smut (tagged 🔥) between consenting partners. All other content is Mature for language and canon-typical descriptions of angst/violence. Gil-galad x female OC Sindarin elf, Occurs between the Fall of Ost-in-Edhel in Eregion and the Battle of the Last Alliance. Contains references to other Tolkien lore and the Silmarillion with author notes for full explanations.

Repeat: Happily Ever After; everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. I try to be as canon-compliant as possible except for the whole 'keeping Gil-galad alive part.' No beta, we die like Mirdania.

If you enjoy this, check out ✨The Director's Cut✨ masterlist with quick links to all my TROP/LOTR content and AO3 profile. Chapter list under the cut. We made it! This is the concluding chapter of their story....for now. 👀

✨ Star and Stone: Complete Chapter List

Ch. 1 of 12: Between the Mountains and the Sea

Ch. 2: Mirrored

Ch. 3: Fair and Free

Ch. 4: Countless Stars

Ch. 5: Silver Shield

Ch. 6: Preparations

Ch. 7: Where the Shadows Are 🔥 [Explicit scene]

Ch. 8: Long Ago He Rode Away

Ch. 9: Wherever the Need is Greatest

Ch. 10: Where He Dwelleth, None Can Say

Ch. 11: Of Whom the Harpers Sing 🔥 [Explicit scene]

You are here -> Ch. 12: Last High King of the Elves of the West

//

“No.”

Elaniel held true to her word that she did not – not – ever want to have a wedding feast or participate in any more diplomatic dinners than absolutely required. Which, she noted with firm  conviction – Ereinion, I am being very clear – was exactly none as there was no such thing as a dinner emergency and she would not be convinced otherwise. Honestly, morconinya, is the salad going to attack the guests? Will you need me to urgently repair a dinner table that is under siege? Send a courier and I’ll show up. 

Gil-galad had talked her back from that diplomatic dinner cliff already, but he knew the wedding feast was never an option on the table. Not even an option in the same room as the table when it came to Elaniel’s decision. 

They were having a rather quiet, informal dinner with several members of the council. Elrond tried many times to convince her of the political benefits of a formal event, but she didn’t care. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I do dislike asking again, Elaniel, but—” 

“—You still have time to stop yourself, Elrond,” she said flatly as she began eating her salad again. 

And when Elrond looked to Gil-galad, his eyes pleading for help  — any help — he found only mild amusement. “Chief Mason Elaniel has made her thoughts on the matter plain, Lord Elrond,” he said smoothly, taking a sip of wine. 

You’re outnumbered. She’ll agree with you most of the time, Elrond. The two of you are about to gang up on me for the next three thousand years, I can sense it. But she’ll never side with you on this. And I am a bold man, but I’m not asking for you again. 

Elrond openly huffed — a sign of closeness between them now — and frowned. “Yes, of course,” he said with a nod. “But…”

Gil-galad shook his head silently. Elaniel had already turned to speak with Arminas, making a comment about how he was handling…something. She had clearly said all that she wanted to say to Elrond on the topic. 

“I think customs suggest—“

Gil-galad shook his head again, taking a sip of wine. 

“The lords of the nearby realms—“

“—Have accepted Elaniel as Lindon’s sole ruler in my stead for the last ten years, despite not attending anything akin to a wedding feast, yes. An excellent observation that does not forward your cause, Lord Elrond.”

Elrond paused, his hand coming to his chin, looking for another way to win. “Family only? Announcements after?”

“They have met her. Celeborn is ten feet away, eating dinner with Galadriel. Alenya and Arminas and Halion are here as well — the closest and most loving family Elaniel has left in Middle Earth. Círdan is here. You are here. Count this as our wedding feast, if you must count one, Elrond, but nothing else.”

“I am sure King Durin would appreciate a show of cooperation and support as the new—“

“—Oh, for fu—“ Elaniel peeked her head around Gil-galad’s shoulder, clearly having had enough. “Marry Celebrian and invite whomever the hell you wish, Elrond. We’ll host a feast and I’ll hand write the invitations. Durin can attend that.” She turned back around to speak to Arminas without waiting for a reply. 

Gil-galad all but shrugged in agreement, doing nothing to alleviate Elrond’s instant blush at Celebrían’s name. But since Elaniel had broached the subject for him…. 

“How long have you loved her and said nothing of it?” Gil-galad asked softly, his voice low enough that only Elrond could hear among the sounds of dinner conversation and music.  

Elrond’s lips pursed tightly, anger on his face. “This is not the place—“

“— No, but this is the time. If you prefer to walk back to my study to discuss it, we can. But I am asking you.” 

Elrond’s stare was icy. The set of his jaw said he was ready to fight over it. 

Gil-galad raised an eyebrow. He had never lost a staring contest in his life. “It is quite important to me that you understand I could ask Celebrían in front of everyone here without any embarrassment on my part.” 

He spoke even more softly now. “But I will not. Would not. Because I am not asking about where you are in your relationship. I am truly asking if you would share what troubles you with me.”

Elrond tilted his head, shaking it as he stared off into the distance, angry at feeling cornered. “It’s not….I don’t…it’s not…” He sighed, his gaze finally meeting Gil-galad’s. “You were right. It is not simple for one who leads. And I do not know what to do. I don’t know how to get out of this. I…do not know. That troubles me”

Gil-galad nodded slowly. He had teased him thoroughly over his love for the elleth, and he absolutely would do it again, but not now. Elrond was visibly distressed, and…Celebrían surely noticed. Surely. Because her grey eyes had never once stopped following him around the room, her lips pursed and her knuckles white as she gripped her fork with enough force to bend it. 

“No, it is not simple,” Gil-galad said softly, taking another sip of wine. “Yet I am reminded of very wise advice: if you care for her, pursue her. Perhaps you will both be stronger for it.” 

There were only so many ways to say ‘take your own advice, pellopë, and be done with it.’ Ah, no, Círdan had one other he used on me: “Your heart is hers, and your next step is clear. So see it done.”

Elrond swallowed roughly, his eyes still fixed on something fifteen feet behind Gil-galad’s head. “I do not know for certain she feels the same…”

It had taken Gil-galad some time to allow himself to feel it, to acknowledge just how deeply he felt it, but he was protective and proud and supportive of Elrond in a way he had never been with another being. He wondered if that feeling in his chest was what fatherhood felt like. Elrond was his son in all but name, and Gil-galad was — is — overjoyed to watch such a wise, strong, kind ellon grow. To watch him lead, watch him find the one he loves. 

But right now, his son was being irritatingly stupid. 

Perhaps this was also what fatherhood felt like. 

“Her eyes have not left you all night,” Gil-galad murmured, his chin almost imperceptibly pointing in Celebrían’s direction. “And you do not know how she feels for certain because you have not yet asked. You are an experienced politician, Elrond; you have been told ‘no’ many times and survived. I would also gently remind you that doing nothing is equivalent to making a choice. So far, ‘no’ is the only path you have allowed anyone to explore.”

Elrond swallowed again, nodding slowly before reaching for and draining his wine glass. 

Ah. 

Standing with an unnecessary amount of speed, Elrond lightly cleared his throat and walked toward Celebrian. Gil-galad felt like he was watching an accident unfold in real time. How much wine had Elrond had? 

The wisdom of this is suspect. Yes, I wanted you to speak to her, but… 

Elrond respectfully nodded to Galadriel and Celeborn before asking Celebrían if she had a free moment to discuss an urgent healer's staffing report he had just received from Imladris. And he was bold enough to do it without a scroll in his hand to back up his ridiculously transparent claim. 

Maybe the wine was stronger than Gil-galad thought. Oropher’s? He wondered if he should ask for a new bottle to check the label. 

But Celebrían seemed quite eager for any excuse to leave the table with Elrond, and they locked arms as they walked down one of the softly-lit paths. Far away from any room with healers, correspondence, reports or even a quill and parchment. Far away from any rooms at all, to be honest. 

Celeborn’s eyes met Gil-galad’s from across the room, a grin blossoming across his face. Gil-galad subtly tilted his wine glass in Celeborn’s direction and took a sip in an almost-toast. Celeborn mirrored the motion and nodded his head in return. 

Agreed. About damn time. 

//

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows of their shared room in Lindon, spilling soft golden light across the stone floor. The room was still, save for the faint creaking of the old beams above them, a whisper of life in the quiet hours of dawn.

Elaniel sat up against the headboard and carefully reached for the book on her side table. Stretching as far as she could without shifting her body under the duvet, fingers wiggling as if that would extend her reach. Almost… With a satisfied smile, she leaned back again, book in hand. Carefully, she shifted a few inches closer to him, chasing the nearest beam of light until it shone on the cover of the book.  

She found the chapter she had finished the previous night. Halion had written down several of his learnings from Imladris and Amon Sûl. He had also gathered more information regarding the walls around Ost-in-Edhel — including even more detail than her initial notes about the eastern wall. She felt deep pride blossoming for him in her chest. A century was a short time for an elf, but Halion had changed drastically in that time. He had become a dear friend, even if he’d never have enough facial control for politics. To be fair, neither did she. 

Elaniel turned the page: “Concerning Stress Differentials for Embedded Anchor Points in Granite vs. Other Igneous Foundation Materials”.  Ah, I’m glad he’d looked into this, in truth. The bedrock for Amon Sûl made it difficult— 

A soft rustle of the duvet drew her attention. Gil-galad had rolled onto his back, still sleeping, arms loose across his stomach. A warm smile spread across her face as she watched the rise and fall of his bare chest, the outline of his strong nose and soft lips in the morning sunbeams, dark hair escaping the long, messy plait he slept in, his

…..snoring. 

Elaniel rolled her eyes. Behold the High King of the Elves of the West in all his golden majesty. The snoring got louder. She softly elbowed him in the side with experienced precision. 

“Mmmm?” came his sleepy inquiry.  

“You’re snoring again, morconínya. Roll over,” she instructed softly. 

“Mmm.” A pause. Eyes still closed, Gil-galad swam his way through the clouds of blankets to find her lap. He scooched himself sideways and settled on his side, his head on her thigh, his back toward her. He nuzzled against her, pressing another sleepy “mmm” into her skin. 

An early morning request.

Love and familiarity swelled in her chest as she rubbed her hand across the broad expanse of his back, scratching his shoulders gently, moving to his scalp lazily and back down his neck. Soothing him awake as she read the book in her free hand. She made it to chapter eleven — Recommendations for Best Alloys for Stronger Tension Cables in All-Weather Conditions — before he stirred again, turning so he could peer up from her lap. 

“Good morning,” his rich baritone was soft with sleep. 

“Good morning,” she smiled, caressing his cheek, tracing the lines of his ear down his neck. “Did you sleep well?” 

“I did, though I suspect I am going to regret waking soon.”

“Oh?”  she asked, setting the book aside. “Who is coming to annoy you in council this time?” 

Gil-galad laughed gently. “Elrond. He’s here to talk about the damn healers initiative again with Nestoril. He can have every healer in the realm for all I care, but I would like to be left out of the discussion.”

“Mmm, he broke you down quickly this time, then,” she laughed.

“I suspect he has a woman on the inside feeding him notes on my weaknesses,” Gil-galad said with a false note of suspicion, playfully narrowing his eyes at her. 

She laughed and bent down to kiss him. “I’m proud to say I’m the main weakness you have. That and an undying desire to fight over grain. Valar, at the edge of death, you’re not dreaming of me but of Oropher. I’m concerned by that, Ereinion, I can’t lie.”

Gil-galad chuckled again and moved to sit next to her in bed, leaning against the headboard, drawing her arm softly to his lap to hold her hand. “Other than council, I have nowhere pressing to be. What are you doing today?”

“Halion asked me to review the book he’s written,” Elaniel said with a small shrug. “And after that, I’m locking myself in the study to work on more sketches. I recommend you don’t enter if you do not have food, wine, or the urge to give me a neck massage.” 

He nodded very seriously. “Noted. I will also warn Elrond, out of the goodness of my heart — despite how he plans to annoy me today — as I’m sure he will try to come say hello to you.”

“He’s an exception,” Elaniel said with a laugh as Gil-galad furrowed his brow.

“That is not fair,” Gil-galad said teasingly. “If anyone should have an exception, I think it would be me.”

“Mmm….no, morconínya, it doesn’t work that way for husbands.” Elaniel moved off the headboard and turned, facing him with her legs tucked under her. “You have other ways to earn the right to stay in my study.”

Gil-galad raised an eyebrow. “Earn?”

She nodded slowly, a smile spreading across her face as she moved to straddle his lap, her fingers splaying across his chest. She tapped her fingernails gently. “Tell Nestoril to tell Elrond that you find you are unable to hold council today because you are sick, but you trust them to come to an agreement without you.”

“I feel fine.” Gil-galad knew what she meant. He teased her anyway. 

“Mmmm. Would you like to feel even better?”

A pause. Elaniel rolled her hips once. Twice. She saw the exact moment she won instead of duty. 

“Upon reflection, I think it would be faster if I tell the guard to tell Nestoril to tell Elrond that I can not hold council today.”

Elaniel nodded, all but grinning at how ridiculous he was, “Mmmhmm, faster is better. For you, Ereinion.”

At that, Gil-galad stood very quickly and moved toward the study door. 

//

It had been five thousand years, and Gil-galad had truly become the Last High King of the Noldor — the last High King of the Elves of the West, technically, as the lines between realms and kin and houses began to blur. 

But the fading — the call to return to the sea — had come for them both. The Age of Men was dawning, and Middle Earth was safe. Their duty to their people was done. They wanted to rest. 

No crowns. No burdens. Just Ereinion and Elaniel. 

So, they both had decided not to wait for the last ship. Círdan had offered. Galadriel and Elrond and Celebrían were coming with him. If they had needed time, Círdan would wait for them. He would always make sure no one was left behind. It would take the Eldar centuries, but eventually they would all sail West, one by one or together. Instead, they went in the next ship to Aman. 

Gil-galad left Elrond with Vilya and strict instructions to harass both Celeborn and Galadriel until they sailed West, too.

Elaniel left strong instructions to Arminas to harass Alenya and Halion until they sailed West, too. 

And with that, Ereinion and Elaniel left. It was not a short journey. It made the need for sturdy ships much more understandable. Ulmo cared deeply for the Children of Illúvatar, but he still raged with storms and might and high seas. It was the dead of night when Aman came into view. They had both stood still, wrapped in his cloak against the cold, on the deck of the ship, watching the stars change from constellations they knew to new shapes neither could name. The land came ever closer, and they both felt a sense of awe and deep relief. They would find rest here. Deep rest. A kind they had not known before. 

As the ship docked, elves filing off the ship in orderly rows, Gil-galad saw her, standing on the edge of the sands. He leaned close to Elaniel’s ear, his voice barely a whisper, a mix of sadness and fondness and joy and grief. “Finduilas.”

When they had finally reached her, moving away from the dock and the shore, Finduilas rushed toward them, grabbing Gil-galad in a very crushing hug for someone at least a full head shorter than him. “Háno!” she shouted joyfully, tears in her eyes, almost lifting him off the ground despite their difference in size. “They said you were coming on the next ship.”

“Nésa,” Gil-galad whispered in reply, hugging her tightly in return. “Oh, I’ve missed you. I have missed you. I have so much to tell you, I—“

“—Start right here. Who have you brought with you?” Finduilas smiled broadly, letting go of Gil-galad to face Elaniel, hands clasped in front of her. 

Gil-galad mirrored her joy on his own face, pride in his voice. “This is Elaniel. My wife.” 

“Oh, Ereinion!” She held her hands out to clasp Elaniel’s. “I’m Finduilas, and it is my true delight to welcome you to our family.”

Elaniel dipped her head almost shyly. “I’m Elaniel, and it’s an honor to meet you. Ereinion and I hoped you might teach us the names of the stars here, as you taught him in Middle Earth.” 

“I've been looking forward to it since the first night I saw them here,” she said in a whisper, her grey eyes sparkling. She waved them both forward, beckoning them to follow her further in from the coast. 

Erienion and Elaniel held hands, fingers laced together, and followed. 

And as they had done for thousands of years, they looked up to watch the stars together. 

/////

Author's Notes: Last High King of the Noldor, indeed!

They're happy and that makes me happy. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Your notes is what helped me through. Thank you! 🩵🩵 //

✨ Star and Stone: Complete Chapter List

Ch. 1 of 12: Between the Mountains and the Sea

Ch. 2: Mirrored

Ch. 3: Fair and Free

Ch. 4: Countless Stars

Ch. 5: Silver Shield

Ch. 6: Preparations

Ch. 7: Where the Shadows Are 🔥 [Explicit scene]

Ch. 8: Long Ago He Rode Away

Ch. 9: Wherever the Need is Greatest

Ch. 10: Where He Dwelleth, None Can Say

Ch. 11: Of Whom the Harpers Sing 🔥 [Explicit scene]

You are here -> Ch. 12: Last High King of the Elves of the West

[kyeterna]

"if rescuing you is a sin, I'll gladly become a sinner" is the sapphic way to say "I love you"

favourite ship dynamic

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[sysig]

Starkly, sparkly (Patreon)

[sskk-manifesto]

Atsushi's back in the game!!! ۶( ˆ o ˆ )

[moeblob]

This is really weird but like hello hi I like games that let you make a protag design then let you design someone else to be like. Your follower/ally. And you can make em different heights. I feel the need EVERY TIME to make a tiny protag and a tall secondary character.

I also am so weak for the secondary being non-human, too. Please let me love my weird companions.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead