Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fingertips traced the dip of her spine, caressing soft skin aglow with the sheen of sweat. The gentle touch made Yizhuo shiver; Aeri’s preoccupied fingers could feel the effect of the simple gesture, how she throbbed around the digits, how the syllables of her name were squeezed from between tired vocal cords.

“Hm?” Aeri wordlessly encouraged her wife to speak.

Three fingers persistently rubbed against her inner walls, hooked against that particular spot. Yizhuo jerked, a tight moan rattled from drool-slicked lips. Gold glinted on her ring finger, peeking out from between the twisted fabric of the pillowcase, clenched in desperation.

“W-wait—” Yizhuo managed.

Aeri stopped again, ever obedient to Yizhuo’s wants, savoring the feeling of her still clenching around her. It made the older woman feel unbearably hot, just how much Yizhuo’s body wanted her. It was so plain. So plain in the way that Yizhuo couldn’t help but arch into her, couldn’t help but push herself back, against her fingers, wanting that stretch, wanting them deep.

“Fuck,” Yizhuo shivered again. Aeri could feel it run up and down her lithe body. She stared at the toned muscle of her back, stared at how she arched, thought about pressing in and making it more prominent, but Yizhuo could barely hang on as it was, and she’d been persistent about keeping this going. She could be like that sometimes. A lot of the time. Greedy— taking as much as she could, prolonging things, anything to keep the fleeting feeling of intimacy just a second longer. She’d tell Aeri to stop right at the precipice again and again, even when she’d whine, “I can’t.”

Pressing firm kisses against her shoulder blades, Aeri chuckled.

“This was your idea.”

After a few breaths were heaved from her lungs, she replied with an exasperated, “I’ll bite you.”

The older woman laughed, responding with a patient, “I love you too.”

Her fingers had pushed even deeper. Yizhuo’s legs trembled now, just as they did the second time Yizhuo had told her to stop. Aeri didn’t know how many peaks they’d tumbled down from now. Too many. So many that Yizhuo seemed to be counting breaths to calm herself.

It was outrageous, how such a simple combination of sights, sounds, touch, could send Aeri reeling.

“Let me fuck you,” Aeri’s words were hard with want, like a petulant demand.

Even with all of her pleading, she didn’t go against Yizhuo’s wishes. In a bout of malicious compliance, she pulled her fingers away— Yizhuo’s responding whine settled in her stomach like white hot lead— and grabbed at her waist, pressing her down, smearing slick against flawless skin. She rocked her hips against Yizhuo’s ass.

“Why won’t you let me make you feel good? Just wanna make you come.” Her breath was hot against Yizhuo’s ear.

Aeri dragged her hand down, squeezing it between the bed and Yizhuo’s stomach, down to her thigh, where she grabbed, movements rougher than earlier in the night. There was a sloppy edge to her desire now.

“Please say it.” Aeri pressed her forehead against Yizhuo’s shoulder; her fingers dug into her wife’s leg, pulling, spreading her open. “Say you want me to touch you, Ning, god, I want you around my fingers again—”

She wondered if her mind would ever be clear, if this heavy haze would always be there, always tempting her to keep her lips moving against Yizhuo’s skin, her hands always craving the soft give of it underneath, to keep pushing until she’d hear that distinctly broken breathing from her wife.

“Wa— that’s— Aeri, don’t move,” Yizhuo stuttered.

“Love how sensitive you are.” Aeri softly dug her teeth into her wife’s shoulder. When she didn’t respond, Aeri rubbed her back as if to coax the stress away from her body. “Okay?”

Labored breathing was her only response.

“Wanna keep going?” She asked, partially impatient to continue touching Yizhuo, partially because she wasn’t sure if Yizhuo was done for the night.

“Y-yeah. Or maybe stop.”

“Stop?”

“N-not, wait…” Looking over her shoulder, Yizhuo bit her lip. Her eyelashes fluttered. “One more time?”

She loved when Yizhuo got like this. Needy. So, so incredibly needy. It was even more apparent when she let Aeri tease her until she was at her breaking point, even past that in this case. Yizhuo was malleable in the older woman’s hands, so easy to coax to pleasure, so sensitive for Aeri, only for Aeri.

“J-just pull out before I come, please?” Yizhuo instructed.

The words weren’t even particularly lewd, just plainly matter-of-fact like Yizhuo often was when speaking— flippant. Still, it made Aeri bite at the inside of her cheek; desire skewered her insides.

Aeri kissed her, passionate and hungry. Yizhuo’s coordination was sloppy; she could barely keep up, opting to let Aeri lead, moaning and whining into the older’s mouth, useless.

Her fingers slipped into Yizhuo so easily. The bed springs creaked beneath them as Aeri rocked in and out, drawing them into a rhythm that pulled the younger woman into lucid pleasure, one that kept her sedated and dazed, loose-limbed and utterly helpless.

It was ridiculous, how quickly Aeri felt the tell-tale clenching around her fingers, a desperate protest to keep her inside, to keep her deep, deeper—

Small fingers wrapped around her wrist and Aeri pulled out. The younger woman’s body locked tight, as if almost ready to snap, then a shuddered breath broke the tension.

“I love you,” Aeri whispered, pressing kisses up and down her back, across quivering shoulder blades and behind small ears. “You did so well.” She’d kiss her lips again, but Yizhuo’s face was buried in the pillow, as if she couldn’t even bear to look at her wife without falling over the edge.

“I can still feel you,” Yizhuo rasped.

A wicked grin pulled at the older woman’s lips.

Sure hands massaged still trembling limbs until Yizhuo seemed to calm down. She leaned over to brush her lips against her wife’s reddened ear, the same blush that colored her cheeks, it made Aeri smile a bit.

“Ready?” She spoke into her ear; her hands wrapped around Yizhuo’s stomach again, seeking Yizhuo out like a desperate addict.

Over her shoulder, the younger woman’s eyes caught Aeri’s, then looked away, bashful.

“I was thinking… I wanna keep this going.”

“You wanna keep it going?” Aeri asked, surprised. They’d never gone further than a couple hours of edging, mostly because Yizhuo wasn’t patient. At all. About anything. Least of all about sex. It didn’t help that she was so sensitive; it didn’t take much to make her come undone, not when it came to Aeri, that was.

“Like… until tomorrow?”

Aeri moved to her side to look at her properly. Still, only her wife’s eyes were visible— little round orbs, like the moon over the horizon— face now partially covered by the pillow.

“Can you handle that?”

Yizhuo glared at her.

“You know what I mean.”

The younger woman placed her chin on the pillow and pouted. “You don’t believe in me?”

“Uh. No.”

She bumped her shoulder against Aeri’s. “You’re mean.”

Aeri chuckled. Grabbing her hand, she pressed a kiss against her wedding band. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. So, if you wanna keep it going, I’m up for it.”

“Good. I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer anyway.”

“I know.”

—

Sliding eggs onto their plates (over medium for Aeri, scrambled for Yizhuo, because Yizhuo was having one of her “texture” moments and couldn’t stand eating eggs any other way— Aeri guaranteed by the next month, she’d only be craving over easy again), Aeri padded to the fridge to pull out creamer for their coffee, which brewed in her tried-and-true french press, a fixture that’d been around since before she and Yizhuo lived together.

Yizhuo tried to convince Aeri to get an espresso machine; Aeri promptly asked who’d use it, to which Yizhuo firmly assured that she’d definitely use it, and they’d save so much more money this way! She had yet to sway Aeri, because the last time she said something like that, it resulted in Yizhuo buying hundreds of dollars worth of crocheting supplies that ended up in the back of their closet.

“Morning,” Aeri called out, watching, amused, as her wife stumbled into the kitchen, soft with sleep and practically nonverbal at such an early hour. “Bad news, we’re out of the vanilla.” She timidly nudged her own preferred creamer across the table to a disgruntled Yizhuo.

Her wife slumped across the table with a groan. “I’m not gonna make it through today.” Her whine was muffled against her arms.

Aeri grinned. She poked at Yizhuo’s bedhead.

“I’ll grab you coffee from that cafe by the office.”

“It’s not the same…”

The older woman chuckled, knowing that she was just being stubborn. She usually pouted and asked for Aeri to grab coffee in the middle of the day anyway, regardless of the cup she’d have in the morning.

“Well, I made a cup for you anyway, if you want it.”

Still pouting, Yizhuo cradled the mug between her hands and blew on it with the utmost concentration. The older woman fondly watched, eyeing the little crinkle between her wife’s brows. How dramatic.

Passing by Yizhuo to throw the dirtied pan into the sink, fingers tangled in the cuff of her button-up and stopped her.

“Stop moving, I’ll do the dishes.”

Aeri laughed lightly. “I’m just putting them in the sink. What’s wrong? You’re extra pouty today.” She squished Yizhuo’s cheeks between her palms, head tilted to eye her sullen expression.

“I’m not…”

“You kinda are.” She kissed the younger’s forehead. “Was last night too much?”

“No…” Yizhuo trailed off. She was a bad liar.

“If it bothered you—”

“It didn’t, I liked it.”

Yizhuo pulled Aeri’s hands from her face and wrapped her arms around the older woman’s middle to bring her close, until she could press her face against her. Aeri ran her fingers through her hair, watching the long, black strands slip through like velvet.

“And I’m horny.”

Aeri snorted.

“Yeah, thought so.”

“Don’t make fun of me. This is your fault.”

“Alright, alright, it’s my fault. Definitely. I’m the one that convinced you to start a one-sided competition with yourself.” Her ass was slapped in retaliation, though it barely fazed the older woman. “You gotta eat, it’s getting late.” She rubbed Yizhuo’s back.

In contrast to Yizhuo, Aeri had already washed up and gotten dressed, hence why she was in charge of their morning routine. Yizhuo slept in and lingered until the last possible moment to get ready. Though, in turn, she took care of lunch— packing the day before for the both of them— and dinner.

Yizhuo whined against her stomach again.

Aeri couldn’t resist it— the softness of her wife, the pouting, the needy hands that wanted to keep Aeri close, always wanting to keep Aeri close. Every little detail was like flint against steel, wild sparks that flew without regard. It had Aeri pulling Yizhuo to stand, a soft, “C’mere,” urging her close until Aeri had her hips bumping against Yizhuo’s ass, pressing her against the table.

“I’ll give you what you want. Then, you’ll eat and get ready, okay?” Aeri instructed.

Yizhuo nodded, breath already coming quick at the promise that came with her wife’s warm body against hers, her hand already shoved down the front of her sleep shorts.

“Wa-wait, not— just a little bit?” Yizhuo looked over her shoulder, lip between her teeth, and Aeri stopped, confused.

“A little what? Just the tip?” Aeri joked.

Yizhuo scoffed. “Don’t make me come. B-but I still want… something…”

“You don’t wanna… come? Still?” Aeri was pretty sure that this was Yizhuo’s forfeiting— as she’d predicted the night before.

“Well, I’m committed now.” She hissed, eyes wild. “I can’t lose!”

“Wha— who are you losing to!?”

“Aeri! J-just, give me something, please, I’m gonna fucking die—”

A choked moan interrupted Yizhuo’s raving. Rough fingers circled her clit before slipping inside; Aeri moaned, surprised at how wet Yizhuo already was. She hadn’t lied.

With every shove into her, the table creaked. The distinct sound of its legs screeching across the kitchen tile echoed in Aeri’s ears. Her anxious eyes tracked the rattling silverware scattered along the surface; she winced when she heard something hit the ground, still she kept pounding into Yizhuo, resolving to clean after the fact. If she had the time. She’d probably have the time. Her eyes darted to the clock, darting back when she felt Yizhuo push back against her, none the wiser about the chaos surrounding them.

One of her wife’s legs curled around her own, pulling her as close as she possibly could be. Using her free hand, Aeri grabbed her hips and lifted, making both feet leave the ground and pushing her further onto the table— a plate was shoved down the length of it and Aeri only took note of it this time in the back of her mind, a little preoccupied.

“Are you close?” Aeri asked, breath hot against Yizhuo’s ear.

Through guttural moaning, her wife nodded frantically, squirming under Aeri’s touch. At the confirmation, she pulled her fingers away, resisting the urge to shove them back in when Yizhuo cried out, and pressed them, instead, against her wife’s lips.

A desperate hand gripped the cuff of her shirt and guided them into her mouth; Aeri only mildly acknowledged that her shirt would be very wrinkled, half untucked and disheveled by their general activities.

Aeri let out a shuddery sigh, eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of Yizhuo sucking herself from her fingers. She couldn’t help but pump them in and out, loving the soft, wet, warmth that wrapped around the digits; her wife’s deep moaning made goosebumps ripple across her skin.

Glancing around, Aeri sheepishly surveyed the damage. Their dining room table had been shoved a foot, maybe more, she didn’t remember it being so close to the wall; a plate had been nearly shoved off of the edge, and there was definitely some silverware missing.

She cleared her throat.

“Maybe we got a little carried away.”

Yizhuo panted beneath her, now just holding Aeri’s hand, wrecked.

“I think that made it worse. Fuck.” She sighed, squeezing her thighs together.

—

Yizhuo incomprehensibly grumbled into her coffee, bought by Aeri, as she’d promised.

“Mm?” Aeri hummed through a bite of food. They’d barely cracked open their lunch boxes.

Her wife glared at her.

“We should’ve done this over the weekend. Why is it only Thursday. I hate being horny at work.”

Aeri snorted before hushing her wife, all too aware that they were in the break room, not that Yizhuo cared much about decorum.

“It was your idea,” she sing-songed.

“Yeah,” Yizhuo sighed, heavy, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Or the weight of several ruined orgasms. “Why’re you so good at listening, hm?” She teased, pushing closer to Aeri, gaze dark with intention.

Aeri leaned closer, silently challenging back.

“Maybe we should just get it over with here.” Yizhuo shrugged, as if it weren’t that big of a deal to commit public indecency in the workplace. Their shared workplace.

“Yeah? What’re you thinking?”

“There’s gotta be a closet around here somewhere.”

“A closet?” Aeri snorted.

“Where does the janitor put the cleaning shit?”

“Oh right, I’d love to have an orgasm next to a bottle of bleach.”

“That’s my orgasm,” Yizhuo hissed.

“How about—”

The breakroom door swung open, effectively silencing their riveting conversation.

Jimin slunk in and ducked into the fridge, only to look up, tupperware in hand, blinking innocently, suddenly aware of how quiet it was.

“What’s up?”

“Gay shit.”

Aeri nudged Yizhuo’s shoulder with an eye roll.

“Ning’s being a delinquent.”

Jimin nodded absently. She shoved her food into their communal microwave— closing the door took a few tries, since the latch didn’t quite like to catch correctly— and punched in a time, cuing its whirring to fill the break room. She had her own coffee; Jimin was Aeri’s coffee run buddy, always had been. Before, it was just a run for the two of them, then Yizhuo came along. Ice clinked as she stirred her drink.

“Why’re you so late?” Aeri asked, kicking out a chair across from her and Yizhuo. They shared a small table— their rickety little breakroom only had three, this being the biggest relative to the others. There was another breakroom on the upper floors, but Aeri didn’t know how to behave in social situations, so the worn-down space just a floor above the IT room was their designated spot.

Jimin shot her a look that spoke leagues of exasperation. “Why do you think?”

“Still helping Ryujin with her uh… issue?” Aeri asked.

Jimin groaned, “She swears she didn’t download anything weird, but I know she’s lying. Every time she logs in she gets, like, fifteen pop-ups! And they’re not safe for work!”

The married couple muffled their laughter.

“I’ve seen things.” Jimin shuddered, depths of anguish visible in her tired features.

“Sorry, dude, but I took care of Ryujin’s last ticket.”

They chatted about the mundanities of their days thus far; how Yizhuo discovered that Xinyu spent most of her time messaging Sohyun from finance in a shared, locked Excel spreadsheet; or how Aeri was called up for, yet another, keyboard issue and had to teach someone how number lock worked. She and Jimin had an ongoing tally of how often that happened.

“Oh, Aeri, can you vend with me this weekend?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Yizhuo glanced at Aeri, who stared back, silently wondering if they’d forgotten something.

“Why do I feel like we had something going on—”

Yizhuo hit her shoulder. “The birthday thing,” she helpfully showed Aeri her calendar— their shared calendar, which was only filled in and maintained by Aeri.

“Ah, shit.”

“You’re supposed to be the one who remembers stuff between us.” Yizhuo pouted.

“Ah, okay, well…” Jimin frowned.

“Hey, wait, no, you should come.” Aeri shot Yizhuo a look, one that confirmed that they were on the same page.

“Yeah, Minjeong’s gonna be there. It’s her cousin’s birthday!” Yizhuo supplied, barely hiding her glee to meddle with a bump to Aeri’s shoulder. Under the table, Yizhuo kept their hands tangled; restless fingers fidgeted with Aeri’s wedding band, spinning it.

Jimin harshly swallowed her coffee. Coughing slightly, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, “Oh. Uh. I don’t know. I don’t even know your friends like that, so, uh…” She rubbed her arm.

“Well, Yeji’s gonna be there too. You like Yeji.” Aeri shrugged.

“And you like Minjeong,” Yizhuo piped in. Aeri held down a smile and reined Yizhuo in with a hand at her waist, squeezing lightly.

The microwave beeped, but Jimin didn’t seem to acknowledge it, stock still and seemingly stunned to silence.

It had been over a year since Jimin and Minjeong met. It just so happened that Jimin tagged along with Aeri to her tattoo appointment, just to clean up some lines on her sleeve, and it just so happened that Minjeong had been her artist exclusively for the previous two years. Jimin got one look at Minjeong and didn’t stop blushing for the full appointment, barely able to even manage a greeting through her stupor.

Aeri had broached the subject with Jimin— they both liked each other, clearly, if Minjeong’s glances were anything to go by— but neither had made a move since then, even when Aeri made it a point to invite them to hang out several times after the fact.

“I-I wouldn’t know what to bring,” Jimin muttered.

“You don’t have to bring anything, you’re coming as my guest. It’ll be chill. Minjeong’ll be happy to see you too. She likes your company when I drag you around.”

“I… don’t know…”

“I’ll vend with you in the morning, the party’s not till later,” Aeri offered.

Brows deeply furrowed, Jimin thought for a long moment before nodding.

“That’s cool, right Ning?” Jimin asked, turning to the younger woman.

Aeri blinked. “Why’re you asking her?”

“She’s your wife!”

“Exactly,” Yizhuo grinned, smug. “Why shouldn’t she ask me?” She knocked her knee against Aeri’s. “Yeah, that’s fine, I think I need a few hours away from her anyway.”

Aeri blinked at the audacity of that statement and, with the emotional bandwidth of a child, leaned in to blow air into Yizhuo's ear, grinning when she managed to successfully annoy her. 

—

They needed creamer, so of course they’d ended up looking for a new vacuum because “we’re already here anyway”, wisely said by her wife who loved spending money.

Yizhuo was right though, they did need a new vacuum.

She’d been complaining about it since they moved in together, a little over a year ago now, that Aeri’s vacuum wouldn’t cut it. It was on its last legs and the suction only seemed to work when it wanted to. Or when Aeri would bang the side of it with her palm. It had been a couple months into their marriage and Yizhuo had finally put her foot down.

“This one’s so nice looking though,” Yizhuo insisted.

On a Thursday night, the store was practically empty, quiet in a liminal way. Sometimes, Aeri wondered if this was what adulthood truly looked like, which, it must be the case, seeing as she, a twenty-nine-year-old adult with a wife, had been standing, staring down vacuums in her stuffy office clothes after working a mind-numbing nine to five. There was unexpected joy in the mundanities of Aeri’s life, especially after meeting Yizhuo, like arguing about said vacuums.

“What, are you gonna have guests stare at it when they come over?”

“Maybe,” Yizhuo petulantly replied.

The younger woman played with Aeri’s shirt sleeves— she’d been rolling them up, exposing the ink that the older woman kept hidden most of the time. Aeri couldn’t help but think that the fingers that traced up and down the intricate line art were Yizhuo’s not-so-subtle way of trying to sway her into making less than smart financial decisions.

The taller woman stared her wife down, brow raised.

“Did you even do any research on it?”

“I did!”

“Looking at pictures isn’t research,” Aeri shot back. She picked up another box. “We’re getting this one, it got good reviews, plus, it’s like, half the price.”

“‘It’s like, half the price,’” Yizhuo mocked under her breath, crossing her arms and facing away from Aeri, sulky.

Aeri slapped Yizhuo’s butt, pulling a shrill shriek from her.

“Ugh. Fine.”

Aeri smiled smugly, victorious. She only managed to push the cart a couple of feet before she was stopped by Yizhuo making another comment.

“We should check if they have lava lamps, I’ve been wanting to pick one up.”

“A what?”

Yizhuo blinked at Aeri.

“A lava lamp. I really want one.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know, but I just remembered.” She shrugged.

“That’s… where are we gonna put it?”

“On the TV stand?”

“I’m… yeah, okay, sure.”

Yizhuo skipped up to her with a grin, a complete flip from her previous disposition, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, babe!”

“Wait, am I paying for it? Ning!?”

—

An agitated sigh erupted from Aeri.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” she muttered, mindlessly gnashing a MyChew between her teeth. Squinting down at her Game Boy screen, because the backlight broke ages ago and she couldn’t be bothered to move closer to the lamp that Yizhuo turned on, Aeri anxiously watched as her poor Ghastly’s HP dwindled further and further with every hit from Whitney’s ridiculously strong Miltank. “You have two Pokemon, what the fuck,” Aeri hissed.

“Are there any more mango?” Yizhuo chirped from the coffee table.

“Hang on, baby, Whitney’s kicking my ass,” Aeri grumbled. She didn’t have any fighting types because they were lame and obviously ghost and dark types were the best. Apparently not against a fucking cow. Jimin would be happy to learn about Aeri’s humiliation.

“Yeah, she’s been for the last hour,” Yizhuo’s not so supportive commentary was met with another grunt from her wife.

Aeri wouldn’t be surprised if a bead of sweat had rolled down her forehead. She was barely staying alive with her shitty luck, because Ghastly’s hypnosis wouldn’t fucking put Miltank to sleep, and she was one hit away from—

Just like that, her poor little Ghastly fainted, leaving her with her Quilava at 5 HP.

“Fuck you too, Whitney,” Aeri spat, before she, with the utmost dramatics, snapped the handheld shut and buried her head in her arms. She wondered how the hell she managed to play that game when she was a kid— she’d been going through hell for the past week picking it up again.

“Can I get my candy now?”

“I’m mourning.”

Crumpled on the floor, the personification of defeat, Aeri heard Yizhuo heft herself up with an exaggerated groan, then, after a few steps, came the small hands pushing at her side. Aeri grumbled, not budging, burying a smile in her arms. Finally, she acquiesced, letting Yizhuo roll her limp body onto her back. Her wife stood above, feet on either side of her, and held her hands out for Aeri, fingers wriggling to reach for her.

“C’mon.”

Aeri stayed on the floor, defiant. Fighting a smirk, she whined, “Come get me.”

Her wife rolled her eyes and crouched down to take her hands. Putting her weight into it, she pulled back and made Aeri sit up, who, still in the midst of her dramatics, did her no favors and slumped to the side, delighting in Yizhuo’s annoyed Yah!

Behind her, Yizhuo shoved her arms under Aeri’s to start dragging her across the rug. The older woman squirmed, uncontrollable giggles leaving her, “That tickles, Ning— ah, wait—!” Aeri screeched, pulling away from her wife. She tucked into a ball, attempting to cower away from the fingers that incessantly poked at her.

After a few minutes of their intense struggle— that was, Aeri screaming and fruitlessly slapping at Yizhuo’s hands— a warm body awkwardly blanketed her own, still curled up like a rollie pollie.

“This is uncomfortable,” Yizhuo muttered.

“I didn’t tell you to lay on top of me.”

“Well, now you gotta fix it.”

Aeri shuffled under Yizhuo, who did nothing to help her and remained prone— Aeri knew it was just to inconvenience her, because Yizhuo was like that— until she managed to lay on her back.

Mindlessly she rubbed at her wife’s waist, shirt bunched up to expose the warm skin, while she stared at the new pink lava lamp on their TV stand.

“It really does look nice there.”

“Right? And you had doubts.”

Yizhuo hummed and rhythmically tapped her fingers on Aeri’s clavicle. Naturally following, Aeri slightly rocked them from side to side.

“Are you done with the spread?” Aeri looked over at the journal that Yizhuo had been working on.

In lieu of an answer, Yizhuo stretched to grab it from the table. Sitting up, they looked down at the newest pages of Yizhuo’s junk journal.

“I thought the receipt would look good here,” she noted, tracing over the outline of the vacuum’s receipt. It was surrounded by other little pieces of memorabilia; handmade stickers they picked up at a farmer’s market not too long ago; a label from a weird soft drink they tried; handwritten anecdotes in Yizhuo’s neat lettering.

Aeri hummed in approval.

“You like it?” Her wife had clearly been fishing for compliments, batting her eyelashes and looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

Aeri chuckled at the display. Pressing a quick kiss to pouty lips, she affirmed, “Yeah, it looks good.” It always made Aeri’s heart flutter a little, seeing the mass of the book and knowing how much of herself, of their relationship, was contained in those pages, all thoughtfully and lovingly compiled.

The thought alone made Aeri lean down to pull Yizhuo into another kiss.

Aeri loved kissing Yizhuo.

In a microcosm of their relationship, Aeri always followed Yizhuo’s lead. Kissing Yizhuo was akin to reading the color on a mood ring— ridiculously easy, albeit a lot more accurate. It was the little things that gave her wife away; if they were simple stamps of affection; if they were signals of neediness slipping through the cracks; if they bore a singular, desperate need to be close. She gave the signals, Aeri just listened.

Now, maybe predictably, Yizhuo’s kisses were markedly impatient. Her fingers twisted and pulled at Aeri’s shirt, soft sighs already tumbling from parted lips.

The older woman pulled away and swiped a thumb against the plush of her bottom lip, cooing at the whine that she’d gotten in reply. “Cute.”

“Aeri…” Yizhuo tugged at her shirt. She was so pretty— Aeri felt it like a pang in her chest; soft, round eyes staring up at her, pink, shiny lips pulled into a pout, blush already dusted the apples of her cheeks.

“Needy,” Aeri teased, letting Yizhuo wrangle her into another kiss. “Did the new vacuum get you excited?”

Yizhuo leaned away with an unamused glare. Her palm thumped Aeri’s bicep. “Shut up.”

The older woman burst into laughter. “It’s okay, I’ve never dropped that much money on a vacuum before, it was pretty thrilling for me too.”

Another thump to her arm made Aeri break out into a grin.

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“You’re excited to use it though, don’t lie.” Aeri wagged her finger. Yizhuo grabbed it and pretended to bite it. Silence lingered for a good moment before Yizhuo answered with a labored sigh.

“Okay, I am.”

“I can eat toast without a plate tomorrow, get a bunch of crumbs on the floor so you can use the hose attachment, you into that?”

“Oh my god, wow, I’m gonna come in my pants.”

They collapsed against each other, giggles overlapping.

Yizhuo’s hands slipped under the sleeves of Aeri’s sleep shirt. The action was somehow more intimate than her taking it off. Her thumbs stroked at the ink hidden beneath cotton.

Calmer now, breaths even without laughter to take it away, Yizhuo smiled fondly at Aeri, head tilted, “Kiss?” She pursed her lips.

Playful, Aeri rolled her eyes and leaned in again.

They’d practically curled around each other— Yizhuo was leaned back against the couch, her head angled by Aeri’s hand laced into her long, raven locks.

“Aeri,” Yizhuo sighed into her mouth.

Her thighs tightened around Aeri’s leg; her hips had been leisurely grinding against the muscle, stuttering at the end of every thrust. The younger woman’s fingers were curled into her shirt, as if she were the singular lifeline keeping her tethered to reality. Grabbing at her ass, Aeri helped keep her motions steady.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged, feeling that familiar rush from knowing that Yizhuo was so close, especially so soon, with Aeri barely having done anything.

“N-no.” Yizhuo pushed her back with a pout. “I don’t wanna cave so soon. It’s like losing.”

“I mean, isn’t it winning either way? You come or you…come…”

“It’s my pride on the line!”

“What pride?”

Yizhuo’s face fell, unimpressed.

“I’m not kissing you anymore.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll help you maintain your pride. Wherever you left it.”

“I’m gonna ignore that.” Yizhuo slung her arms around Aeri’s shoulders again, keeping her close. She bit her bottom lip; Aeri could practically see her wading through the murky depths of indecision. She nearly wanted to tell Yizhuo to forget about it and to just let her take care of her already, but she’d behave. However long Yizhuo wanted to keep it up. “Tell me to stop being so desperate,” Yizhuo rasped, her eyes stayed low, Aeri could almost see them trace the outline of her own lips.

“Stop being so desperate,” she repeated.

“No,” Yizhuo whined, pouting, back being soft and cute again, and Aeri would’ve pulled her into another kiss if Yizhuo didn’t continue on with, “say it like you’re gonna punish me.”

Aeri chuckled. “But I’m not,” she teased.

“But, say it like… like you want me to behave.”

The older woman watched Yizhuo’s throat bob, as if the thought alone was too overwhelming for her.

Cradling Yizhuo’s face between her palms, round eyes turned glazed as they stared up at her; anticipation lay within bated breath, shakily exhaled between slightly parted, pink lips.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?”

Yizhuo nodded, almost eager. It’d struck Aeri, how quiet she’d become— she hadn’t even asked that from Yizhuo, but how natural it was for the younger woman, to sink into such a state, Aeri could feel deep seated, filthy arousal furl in her gut.

“I know you are. Can’t even stop yourself from humping my thigh. You’re drooling all over me, can feel you leaking through your shorts.”

Her wife’s hand came up to curl around one of her wrists, not to pull her away, but to keep her in place. She nodded, eyes unmoving from Aeri’s face. Aeri could see how ragged her breathing started to become, how her chest moved more prominently under her thin camisole.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either. Wanna press you against the couch and fuck you into the cushions.” Aeri’s own breath had grown heavier. She paused, wondering if maybe she’d missed the point— she was supposed to calm Yizhuo down. But maybe Aeri didn’t want to calm Yizhuo down. She wanted her to come around her fingers, on her tongue; she wanted it as badly as Yizhuo. “Tell me you want it.”

“Want it…” Yizhuo croaked out. She gripped the front of Aeri’s shirt. Aeri wondered if she knew she was leaning further back, basically begging Aeri to press her body against hers. “W-wan’ it really bad,” she practically hicupped.

“Stop being so fucking desperate,” Aeri hissed.

In direct opposition to her words, Aeri pulled Yizhuo into a heated kiss.

The entire day, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the way Yizhuo’s blouse hugged her body, how the fabric outlined the shape of her breasts. They’d changed practically the moment they got into the apartment, rueful of how they’d been in their work clothes longer than necessary, and Aeri’s eyes lingered when Yizhuo peeled her shirt off, revealing lace, prompting her wife to teasingly whip her shirt at her, and that was that.

Now, with Yizhuo arching up against her, Aeri didn’t hesitate to pull the straps of her camisole down, shoving the fabric over her breasts, exposing hard nipples.

“Don’t come,” Aeri warned, roughly palming her. She may not have minded if Yizhuo did, but she’d help her wife keep up this game if that’s what she wanted.

Whimpers sounded from above her only growing in intensity as Aeri ducked down to wrap her lips around a hard peak.

—

The distinct jingle of electronic, 16-Bit themes chimed throughout the cramped claw machine arcade, nearly hidden between a laundromat and a pharmacy.

Date nights weren’t strictly Fridays, though, more often than not they landed on a Friday, and, as of late, they usually consisted of going to hot pot (it was a problem, they definitely spent too much money eating hot pot) and grabbing ice cream afterward. It was on their trek to find ice cream that they came across the arcade, flashing, tempting lights out of place on the little street.

“To the right, the right!” Yizhuo shrieked. Her hands rapidly slapped Aeri's arm, as if it would somehow influence her wife's coordination.

With bated breath they watched the claw swoop down and of course, their target, a little orange cat plushie, had been picked up by its ear.

“Oh shit,” Aeri muttered, immediately thinking of the full cup of coins she'd already dumped into the damn machine.

Anxious eyes tracked the precariously dangling item as it bobbed from side to side in the crane’s unsteady grip, back and forth, back and forth— Yizhuo’s nails dug into her arm, tightening by the moment, before—

PLOP.

Mouths agape, their eyes linked. More rapid slaps found Aeri's arm.

“We did it!” Yizhuo yelled, ducking down to snatch the prize from the machine.

“Pretty sure I did all the work.”

“I gave instructions.”

“You gave suggestions. Bad ones.”

Yizhuo scoffed and bumped her with her shoulder, little cat plush cradled against her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world to her. Leaned against the crane cabinet, Aeri watched the way the flashing rainbow of LEDs surrounding them highlighted Yizhuo’s full grin.

Aeri didn’t know what to call it— this particular, mushy feeling that’d creep up on her and squeeze her insides; it was deeper than fondness, fuller than simple affection, as obsessive and ridiculous as love could get.

Bringing the toy up to Aeri’s face, she shook it slightly, pitching her voice up to make it speak, “Thank you,” she pressed its cloth nose against Aeri’s cheek, a kiss for the winner.

Aeri definitely pretended that it didn’t make her blush.

(It was a flimsy attempt, she was as transparent as glass when it came to Yizhuo.)

Hand in hand, they walked out of the arcade, continuing their search for ice cream.

“Did you grab any more of those little candies?” Yizhuo asked.

“From the hot pot place?”

Yizhuo nodded.

“Nah.” Her wife deflated, a pout already forming on her lips. “I do have this though.” Aeri dug around in her trench coat pocket, pulling out a wrapper. Yizhuo lit up and grabbed it with both hands. “Thought you’d want it for your journal.”

Yizhuo grinned up at her. On tip toes, she held herself steady with a hand on Aeri’s shoulder. “I love you,” a peck to the cheek punctuated her remark.

Pen scratched against sketchbook paper.

Aeri hummed, studying the tattoo mock-up Minjeong had sent her. They’d been trying to design what would be the newest addition to Aeri’s left sleeve. Really, it was less a sleeve, and more a smattering of line art, disjointed in theme but aligned in style, directly opposed to the neat arrangement of florals that snaked around her right bicep.

“Where’s that one gonna go?” Beside her, Yizhuo’s odd stream of videos, which had been her background noise, paused.

“Got a spot here.” Aeri pointed out at a bare area on the inside of her forearm.

Yizhuo being suspiciously quiet made Aeri glance up, where she was met with a mischievous grin.

“You should get my name tattooed on you.”

Aeri snorted.

“It’d be hot!”

“It’s a little… tacky.”

“I’d get your name on me.”

“Yeah? Where?”

Yizhuo hummed, eyes traced the ceiling in thought. “Where would you want it?” Her fingers playfully fluttered across her own neck, down to her collarbones, tempting.

Feigning thought, Aeri tapped her chin, then, motion drawn out, she pulled a single finger up and poked Yizhuo’s forehead.

“I think there’s enough room up here. Uchinaga Aeri. You’re right, that would be hot.” Aeri hummed.

Yizhuo slapped her finger away. “You ass, stop calling my forehead big.”

Aeri cackled.

Previously, she'd pitched the idea of Yizhuo helping her with a design before. Yizhuo had, almost embarrassed, refused, claiming to know nothing about designing a tattoo. One of these days, Aeri would convince her. As sappy as it was, Aeri craved to have a piece of her on her body. The intimacy of her art and Yizhuo, threaded delicately into permanent ink lines.

Focus back to her sketch, her train of thought was broken by the sudden weight of Yizhuo on her back. Small hands pulled at her shirt, a silent request.

“You can just pull it up, lazy,” Aeri teased.

“No,” Yizhuo whined, drawing the syllable out with a huff.

“Are you just trying to get me naked?”

A long silence followed, then, “No?”

Aeri laughed, complying anyway because it was Yizhuo. Almost as soon as the fabric came off, fingers began to trace the art that spanned the planes of her back. Mentally, she followed along; she felt her trace the piece at the top of her spine that nearly peeked out of the collar of her shirts; a piece at the bottom that flirted near her tailbone; the smaller things, the angel numbers on her left shoulderblade, the small ankh on the right.

“Can I paint them again?”

“We can grab body paint next weekend. I don’t think we have any plans.”

A little yay sounded from behind her, followed by a kiss pressed against the nape of her neck.

The kisses didn’t stop there.

Shivers wracked Aeri’s body, following in suit to the insistent, tickling ministrations.

Aeri chuckled, partly breathless. “You’re not gonna let me finish this, are you?”

“Nuh-uh.”

Folding her leg back, Aeri’s heel smacked Yizhuo’s ass— she grinned, hearing her wife’s little ack! in response. Teeth bit at her shoulder, revenge.

“Needy,” Aeri muttered.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I like that it’s immediately my problem.”

A hand fluttered in front of her face, showing off the pretty gold ring that Aeri had slid onto it just months before.

“That’s what you signed up for,” Yizhuo sang.

Abruptly, Aeri rolled them, ending up on top of the younger woman, who stared up, wide-eyed, caught in the act of stirring up trouble, a normal expression for Yizhuo to have.

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

“I think it was in our vows, ‘give Ning Yizhuo whatever she wants or she'll pout and guilt trip you for the rest of your life’.”

“I don't think I remember that one.”

Opposing the playful defiance in her words, arms caging Yizhuo's head in, Aeri pressed her body closer, feeling the soft cotton of her button-up pajama shirt against her skin, bare save for her bra.

“Well, you vowed. So…” The playful words were undercut by the clear want in Yizhuo's body. A leg wrapped around Aeri's, pulling her closer.

“You got me. What does Ning Yizhuo want?”

Yizhuo's grin was gleeful.

“Want you like this,” she breathed.

Aeri was obsessed.

Yizhuo was already wound so tight; it left her soft under Aeri’s loving touch, yielding like water slipping through her fingers.

She didn’t know how Yizhuo did it. She pulled such crude entitlement out of Aeri; Yizhuo was hers to ease apart, like unthreading ribbon from a corset; hers to put back together with knowledgeable hands. Satisfaction carved deep into Aeri’s bones at the thought of it— it was so simple.

It barely took anything for Yizhuo to moan her name, for her cunt to be dripping and wanting for her, like a base need, the same way a mouth salivated for food. She did need her— her body screamed it every time Aeri would pull away and her hips would follow with jerky motions, and her voice would break off into a pathetic cry that'd only spur the older woman on.

Lust tugged dangerously tight in Aeri’s stomach, seeing tears streaming down Yizhuo’s soft, ruddy cheeks.

Maybe it was a little superficial how something like that solidified the pride she felt, knowing that Yizhuo was hers, branded by the golden ring wrapped around her finger. Was it mean, she wondered, the grin that tugged at her lips from the sight?

“Get on your stomach,” Aeri instructed, hand at her waist, urging her over. Clumsy limbs struggled to comply; Aeri’s hungry eyes watched, not at all eager to help. She liked Yizhuo like this— sloppy and desperate. “Ass up, baby.” Her hands took either side of her wife’s slim waist and moved her how she liked. Eager hands felt up the curve of her ass; Aeri could feel every whimper drop into her chest like lead, pressing against her ribs, constricting her lungs.

Aeri took her time with her, using her tongue to pry her cunt open. She wasn't neat about it— she loved the way slick would coat her tongue, would purposefully make her nose and cheeks wet with it. It drove Yizhuo insane, especially in this position, laying prone, so vulnerable without the control of Aeri’s hair in her hands. She could only cry into the pillow shoved under her face, or make pitiful attempts to jerk her hips back, against her wife.

It was addicting, the feeling of her clit between her lips, under her tongue, how it needily pulsed. How she throbbed around the firm muscle when Aeri shoved herself as deep as she could before pulling away— the equivalent of ice water dumped over Yizhuo’s head, just in enough time to keep her from being pushed over the edge.

Yizhuo tried to snap her legs shut. Uncontrollable shivers ran up and down her body. Even then, so deeply entrenched, she still yielded to Aeri’s insistent hands that eased her thighs apart, once again making room to settle between them.

It was an insanity inducing cycle, bringing Yizhuo up and letting her crash back down, again and again.

Hands pushed Aeri's head away from her oversensitive, squirming body. Yizhuo had curled into herself, unable to thwart the intensity that wracked her and kept her trembling.

“Done?” Aeri asked. She laid a gentle hand on Yizhuo’s back and hovered over her like a protective shield.

Whimpers escaped through heaving breaths; Yizhuo nodded. Her features, captured by exhaustion, crumpled to reveal raw vulnerability. Hot tears carved trails down her face. Aeri pressed attentive kisses anywhere she could reach; salt stung her tongue.

“A-are you okay? Does it hurt?” Aeri rambled. “Yizhuo…” She watched, helpless, a horrible guilt swirled in her stomach. She’d pushed Yizhuo too far, she didn’t notice, she should’ve noticed. “Baby…” The older woman croaked, throat feeling scratchy, she blinked her own tears away.

Eyes still clenched tight, Yizhuo hiccupped and shook her head. “J-just…” She struggled to verbalize.

“Okay, okay, too much,” Aeri finished.

Arms surrounded Yizhuo and kept her close to her chest. Aeri pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Careful caresses worked through messy hair, softly working through kinks, easing her wife down with hypnotic movements.

“I love you,” Aeri repeated the phrase, speaking the words like apologies.

It felt like ages before Yizhuo was responsive again, only marked by a small kiss pressed against Aeri’s neck, like a reassurance.

“Good?”

Yizhuo nodded.

“Was… was it okay?”

“I liked it,” she spoke quietly. The words were almost lost against Aeri’s skin.

“Okay. Good. That’s… good.” Aeri tamped down on her nerves— if she started rambling again it could make Yizhuo nervous. She let the relief loosen her up. “You did really well.”

“I think I came, maybe, I don’t know. Maybe a little bit. Is that even possible?” Yizhuo let out a breathy chuckle, tainted with fatigue.

“It’s okay. As long as you liked it.”

“I liked it.” Lips pressed against Aeri’s collarbone.

“Maybe we should use a safe word. That was really…” Aeri let out a sigh, heavy with stress.

Fingers tangled with hers.

Round eyes peered up at her, “Sorry.”

“What—? No, don’t be. You were just… in it. But it kind of scared me, not being able to like… know if it was… I don’t know, bad or…” Aeri’s thoughts were still scrambled by the adrenaline.

“Okay. Safe word. I’ll figure one out.”

Aeri nodded, still feeling oddly helpless, like she was the subject of a photo and didn’t know what to do with her hands. Gears kept running in her mind, gummed up with residual guilt.

Turning them, she pressed her weight against Yizhuo and sunk them deep into the bed. Her wife sighed contentedly. Muscles melted under Aeri’s full lips that dragged along her collar bones, across her shoulders, up her neck, pressing kisses punctuated with sappy whispers of, “I love you”.

Her wife giggled. She reached down to pull Aeri up, bringing their faces close.

“Are you okay?” Yizhuo asked pointedly.

“Fine,” unexpectedly, it came out in a croak. The older woman cleared her throat in an attempt to be nonchalant, and completely failed, if Yizhuo’s keen stare was any indication. “I’m fine. Just worried. I’ll get over it.”

Yizhuo’s brows furrowed. “I don’t want you to just ‘get over it’. We’ll figure out a safe word, okay? It got pretty intense quick, I didn’t expect it either. No one got hurt, Aeri, it’s okay.”

Meekly, Aeri nodded. Yizhuo gave her that look again, one so soft with emotion, it turned Aeri’s insides to liquid, before she pulled Aeri into a full bodied hug.

“You still wanna keep this going?” Aeri asked.

Yizhuo hummed and nodded her affirmation. “You?”

“I’ll keep it going as long as you want it.”

“I always want it from you,” Yizhuo joked and smiled loopily.

“Obviously,” Aeri scoffed.

“But I want you to want it too. If it’s stressful…”

“No, no, it’s not. I like it a lot.”

“Obviously,” Yizhuo repeated playfully, a sly smile painted her lips. They kissed again, short and sweet. “We should change the sheets,” she muttered against Aeri’s lips.

“Mm, ‘kay.”

“I mean… you should change the sheets. I can’t feel my legs.”

Aeri laughed.

“Let me carry you to the bathroom first.”

—

Aeri couldn’t remember the first time she met Jimin.

Though, she was entirely sure that paled in comparison to the first time she really saw Jimin.

Aeri had the firmly held belief that coworkers were like teachers. Neither were to be seen outside of their natural environments, that being work and school, respectively. Only a few months into her new job— IT, it wasn’t her first choice but money was money and the job was easy enough— Aeri wasn’t keen to make friends.

Bag of warm pretzel bites in hand, a mall staple, Aeri couldn't deny the entertainment that was her coworker being robbed blind by kids, who were a little too enthusiastic about Pokemon cards, and enjoying every second of it.

Droves of kids would run to her coworker's table to greet her, to which Jimin would always respond with a bright grin and cards to give away that she never asked payment for.

Curiosity got the better of Aeri, and before she knew it, she'd edged her way to the end of one of the vendor's tables. Jimin, seemingly a little shell shocked to see her coworker at her weekend gig, stuttered through stilted conversation with Aeri.

Aeri learned a few things: Jimin preferred Japanese cards, even if she couldn’t read them; She collected based on art, as she so passionately ranted about how pretty the VMax cards were and how overlooked they were because of their lower pricing; and Jimin was too nice. Way too nice for her own good.

The last point had been driven through by the appearance of a douchebag. He’d slung his binder atop Jimin’s display cases and demanded a high percentage, spinning a story about how he needed the money, Jimin would understand right? It was for his sister, she had kids, he’d stated in heavily accented Korean. (Aeri continued to believe her theory that the guy was just playing it up for sympathy points.)

Then, of course, Aeri caught the words he’d spat under his breath in his native language, which just so happened to be Aeri’s native language.

“Stupid bitch.”

Present day, Aeri couldn’t remember exactly what she’d said in response, only that it was sharp and loaded with enough profanity to make the man's little ego shatter, leaving him with nothing else but a petty attempt at retaliation, shoving one of Jimin’s display cases to the ground and storming off, his shit personal collection in hand.

But she did remember how Jimin apologized to her, as Aeri helped her clean up the man’s mess. It’d left her a little stunned, hearing how concerned Jimin was that the man might’ve said something to Aeri, nevermind the way he treated Jimin.

And she remembered what she said back to Jimin, hand settled on the taller woman’s shoulder, “Man, it’s not your fault you’re a good person, alright?”

Then, Aeri’s firmly held belief was tossed out of the window.

“Borrowing” a chair from the food court— to which Jimin protested with wide eyes, fearing that they’d get in trouble; they didn’t— Aeri sat beside Jimin to keep her company while she vended for the couple of hours that followed.

She didn’t have to, Jimin had argued.

And Aeri didn’t, but she kind of did.

And she learned all about how much Jimin hated Pokemon Snap 2, and how she couldn’t resist those old useless Topps cards— especially the chrome ones, and how, even when she was treated like shit and almost had her kindness taken advantage of, she still remained worryingly kind-hearted. Worryingly to Aeri, that was, which was why she’d sat next to her, she reasoned.

It was the same kind-heartedness that Aeri saw every weekend that she continued to help Jimin vend for the previous four years.

Aeri read through the half dozen texts that Yizhuo sent in the past ten minutes, starting from Yizhuo detailing what errands she and Minjeong were directed to run for the party that night, spiraling out to how Yizhuo thought they should go to the zoo more often because she watched a video of a panda, and she forgot how cute pandas were.

Aeri responded to each one.

"Are you sure it won't be weird?"

Jimin was hunched over the table, tapping at the plexiglass that protected the trading cards. She pouted, heavy thoughts clearly weighing her down.

“What’s weird about it?”
“I just… I don’t know anyone. I wouldn’t want a stranger coming to my party.”

“No one’s a stranger to Nayeon,” Aeri muttered. She'd been invited and she only met the woman once. “And you’re my guest. Plus, like I said, Yeji’s gonna be there.”

Jimin’s stiff posture hadn’t eased.

Aeri settled a hand on her shoulder. “I just want you to be able to talk to Minjeong.”

“Why?”

“I know you like her.” Aeri shrugged.

Jimin pouted. “I-I can’t.”

“Why?”

“She’s… scary.”

Aeri snorted. She would’ve argued otherwise, but Minjeong did have a mean glare and a bit of a temper. Plus the snake bites and tattoos didn’t help her case much.

“I think you’d get along. Look, we can bail any time. It doesn’t matter. Ten minutes, an hour, five hours, whatever. I promise, man.”

“You think she wants to talk to me too?”

“She thinks you’re cute.”

Jimin’s ears were bright red.

“You know that kind of stuff doesn’t matter to me though.”

The surface level stuff, she meant, as she’d confessed to Aeri more than once. She wanted true love, something only a sappy romantic could dream up— a sap like Yu Jimin.

“Yeah, but it kinda gets your foot in the door. You’ll charm her. Don’t worry.”

Jimin groaned into her hands.

Initially, Aeri had given Jimin the benefit of the doubt, thinking that maybe she'd gain the confidence to say more than a single word to Minjeong, but the last time they were in the same room together, that being Aeri and Yizhuo's courthouse wedding— Yizhuo was impatient and Aeri was just happy to get a ring on her finger— Jimin could barely dare to look at the other woman as they sat next to each other on the same bench.

Jimin had to be there, of course, because she was Aeri's best friend. She was cool with Minjeong too, but her invitation was also partial amusement from having her tattoo artist as a witness. Also because she's the best wingman ever. She also happened to be the least appreciated best wingman ever.

It was fine, Aeri could work with it.

She knew Jimin like the back of her hand. She knew that she was a hopeless romantic, the complete opposite of Aeri in that regard, which only made it funnier in retrospect that Aeri had gotten married first between the both of them, not to mention the circumstances surrounding said marriage.

It wasn't anything Aeri ever intended. She didn't hate the concept of marriage, it just wasn't something in the books for her. Relationships weren't anything that Aeri balked at either— she'd had her share of partners, two long term ones that ended on neutral terms.

Then Yizhuo came along and burned it all down.

In the most positive whirlwind of a way that someone could burn something down.

It was a silent kind of love that built up in the background, leaving Aeri not privy to the fact that she would be swept up in it with the intensity of a category five hurricane.

Only a few months into their relationship, she'd looked at Yizhuo and realized she loved her. Only a few months after that, Yizhuo proposed. A few months after that, they got married.

Whirlwind.

Aeri balled up the paper from her straw and flicked it at her friend’s head. “Look alive, customer incoming.”

Jimin beamed at the little boy that came hopping up to the table.

"Hey, Jaehyun! How've you been?" She glanced up to wave at the boy's mom, who followed behind him, struggling to keep up with the boy's energy.

"Nice shirt, kiddo," Aeri greeted, nodding at the Gengar graphic on the boy's clothing.

Jaehyun held the bottom of his shirt, showing off the art with a grin.

"Jimin noona," he squeaked, "I have a present for you!"

"Oh, for me? What's that?"

Aeri absently sipped at her coffee, too used to the back and forth that Jimin had with their youngest customers. Last week, she'd been given her nth drawing of a kid's favorite pokemon in layered crayon on printer paper.

"I found it in my dad's stuff!"

"Oh, that's—!”

Aeri glanced up and immediately inhaled her sip of coffee.

Jimin, hand outstretched to receive the card from the boy, had nearly let it drop from her grip in shock. Scrambling to keep it safe, she awkwardly cradled it between her palms.

"Jesus Christ—!" Aeri struggled to exclaim through her coughing fit.

"Is it good?" The boy asked innocently.

Jimin, sweating profusely, handed the 1st ed. base set shadowless Charizard card back to the boy, sputtering, "S-save that for college, honey."

"Get it graded first," Aeri managed, finally breathing normally after chugging down water.

—

The first thing Aeri learned about Minjeong’s cousin was that she loved karaoke.

Bass rumbled through every fixture of the house, reverberating from the living room, all the way upstairs, to where Yizhuo and Aeri definitely weren’t hiding away from the other party goers.

They'd spent the first hour of the party wrangling Minjeong and Jimin to talk to each other, then, somehow they'd lost them after Minjeong dragged the older woman to God knows where to grab drinks.

After trying to find a bathroom, Aeri and Yizhuo took it upon themselves to wander around Nayeon's place, feeling more like kids being dragged along to a parent's work function, than actual adults socializing with other adults, like one healthily would. Nayeon and her wife were loaded— her wife was a big shot lawyer or something, as Minjeong had supplied, and it came with perks, like having, what was practically, a mansion on the outskirts of Seoul.

Crouching down to pick up a streamer, Aeri wondered who the hell thought to decorate the second floor when the party was downstairs.

“You got pink already?” Aeri asked.

Digging in her purse like a little goblin who hoarded shiny things, her wife rifled through the little paper strands she'd collected thus far, making a determination with a hum.

“Gimme, gimme,” she made grabbing motions.

It was much quieter upstairs, away from the chaos of uncoordinated dancing and Nayeon's drunken singing, which was surprisingly great considering she didn't know the lyrics to most of the songs she picked.

“Did you see any confetti anywhere?”

“I just saw streamers. Unless you wanna steal a balloon from downstairs.”

Yizhuo pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head.

Their impromptu wandering became a hunt for keepsakes for Yizhuo's junk journal. Naturally, Aeri tagged along. Regardless, she would've (happily) been dragged into it.

“I can see you in a place like this,” Yizhuo commented, as she dragged her fingers over the banister, the only thing keeping them safe from the open air above the foyer. Looking down, Aeri could see the multicolored lights from the kitchen and living room spilling across expensive wood flooring.

“Like what?”

“Among opulence,” Yizhuo gestured dramatically.

Aeri scrunched her nose up. “I think it'd stress me out to have to clean this much.”

“Babe, when you have the money to afford this, you get cleaners.”

“Oh. My poor’s showing.”

Yizhuo laid a hand on her shoulder. “Our poor.”

Taking her hand, Aeri laid a kiss on the back of it. “Thanks for being supportive, babe.”

“I mean it. You'd look so hot doing rich people shit.”

Aeri barked out a laugh. “Rich people shit?”

“Like… going to charity balls. You'd wear a pretty black dress that shows everything off. And it’d have a thigh slit—”

“Like Angelina Jolie in Mr. & Mrs. Smith.” Yizhuo stared at her. “You know how I feel about Angelina Jolie—”

“Stop talking about other women.”

Aeri laughed. “Go on.”

“Anyway, I'd be on your arm because I'm your sugar baby, and you took pity on me because I’m a hot and poor college student who just needs money for tuition, it’s a whole thing.”

Aeri raised her brows at the detail. “You really thought about this, huh.”

With a long agonized sigh, Yizhuo explained, “I had a lot of time to kill today. Nayeon took two hours to find a dress to wear, only to realize she already owned it. So, I kept thinking about you—” she slung her arms around Aeri's shoulders, head tilted to the side, she bit her lip and the playfulness in her eyes made Aeri feel like she’d been dropped into a lion’s zoo pen. “And… I was thinking about last night, about how badly I wanted you to keep going. And how, when I woke up this morning, I could still feel you curling your fingers in me. I really thought about pulling the strap out of the closet. Pretend it was you pounding me deep.”

“Yeah?”

Yizhuo nodded. Somehow she managed to make the insignificant movement feel cheeky.

“Sounds nice.”

Yizhuo sighed and ran a finger along the collar of Aeri's shirt, pulling at it playfully. 

“If I were a worse person, I'd drag you into one of these rooms.” Yizhuo grinned up at her, concentrated chaos in the shine of her teeth.

Aeri's hands trailed Yizhuo’s waist, exposed by cut-outs in the dress.

“I wouldn't put it past you. Thankfully, I have class.”

An affronted gasp left Yizhuo. She pressed a hand to her chest.

“You wouldn’t deserve it anyway, you haven’t even said anything about my dress.” Yizhuo pouted.

“I said you looked good!” Aeri defended.

She looked better than good, and Yizhuo knew it. Her wife was a tease, through and through. That hadn’t changed since the day they met. Aeri wasn’t at all surprised to see Yizhuo dressed in an olive green dress that stretched and conformed to every dip and curve. She wasn’t at all surprised with how clingy Yizhuo had been since they’d arrived, practically glued to her, hugging her arm between her own, pressing her breasts against it, against her back. The way she not at all subtly played with her fingers while eyeing her with a stare so dark and full of want— as if partly anticipating, partly hoping, maybe even begging for Aeri to do something— it could knock Aeri to her knees.

Now, those same eyes narrowed at her, unimpressed. “Try harder.” Yizhuo whipped her hair behind her, leaving Aeri chuckling in her wake.

Aeri was a chronic overthinker. It wasn't all that apparent from the outside— she was the type to go with the flow, to abhor conflict and prefer the easier route, more often than not. It definitely wasn't apparent when she'd married Yizhuo after a year and a half of dating her.

Sometimes she’d worry.

Not about their relationship, nor the circumstances of it— something that, on the surface, could’ve seemed like a rash decision.

It wasn’t that at all.

It was her own tendencies that worried her. Her tendency to catastrophize to quell her overthinking, to latch onto ideas that’d prove her psyche right.

Sometimes a thought would come through, like she was testing herself. But, instead of regret or a doom spiral, she'd be met with her wife doing something as inane and as purely Yizhuo as sifting through party streamers on the floor to glue to journal pages because she liked the look of them so much. Or convincing her to buy a lava lamp that they definitely didn’t need. Or packing a MyChew with Aeri’s lunch every day because she knew it was her favorite.

And she’d feel calm and steady, like she always did around the younger woman.

Without hesitation, Aeri's overthinking would be quelled.

“I love you,” Aeri spoke, not at all embarrassed about the pure sap that dripped from the words, or the way her gaze had turned soft and dewey.

She was answered with a yawn.

“Oh, so that’s how you feel then?” Aeri teased.

A limp slap caught her shoulder. “I’m not saying it back now,” Yizhuo countered. “It was a long day.” She stretched.

“Ready to dip?”

“Mhm. How do you think Jimin’s doing?”

“Well, I don’t hear agonized screaming yet.”

They found Jimin and Minjeong tucked away from the party in one of several dining rooms. They sat, huddled next to one another; a spread of very familiar cards laid on the table in front of them.

Of course Yu Jimin would bring a deck of Pokemon cards with her to a party. Though, even more predictably, of course that would be the thing that scored her points with Minjeong, who looked at the older woman like she was about to throw a bag over her head and never let her out of her basement.

“You good?” Aeri checked in with her friend.

Jimin grinned up at her and nodded enthusiastically. “Just showing Minjeongie how to play. She’s pretty good!”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Minjeong slyly commented.

Simultaneously, the couple turned to each other, eyebrows raised in sync, followed by shakes of their head that affirmed that, no, they didn’t have the wherewithal to even say anything about that.

“You okay with us bouncing?” Aeri asked. “I can come back if you need a ride, Yizhuo’s just tired.”

“I’ll give her a ride,” Minjeong piped in.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” Jimin argued weakly, cheeks red.

“I’d love to.”

For too long of a minute, their friends stared into each other’s eyes, leaving Aeri and Yizhuo awkwardly standing off to the side, an unwilling audience.

“Alright,” Yizhuo cut in dryly. “Well, you two have fun.”

Jimin bounced up from her chair to pull Aeri into a bear hug that left the shorter woman winded.

“Thanks,” Jimin whispered into her ear. She pulled back to give Aeri a goofy grin.

Aeri patted her friend’s shoulder. “We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”

Aeri fully expected to go straight to bed. Yizhuo had nodded off for the entire ride back to their apartment and pouted at Aeri until she helped change her into pajamas.

She’d left Yizhuo to finish her routine while she washed the dishes from that morning— she’d been running a little late to meet with Jimin because someone kept her up the night before— when arms curled around her waist.

“I’m bored.” She could feel Yizhuo thump her forehead against her shoulder.

“Thought you were tired?”

“I hit my second wind.”

“Just give me a sec—”

She flinched at cold hands that crept under her shirt and splayed across her abdomen. “Ning, I love you, but your fingers are like ice cubes,” she squeaked, trying, in vain, to squirm away from her wife’s grip.

Yizhuo whined at the rejection. “Some people are into that, y’know, like temperature play.”

Twisting around, Aeri flicked her still wet fingers, flinging water at the younger woman. Her wife shrieked— before she could retaliate, Aeri ducked out of her arms and took off running.

Making her wife chase her around the coffee table and through the hallway, feinting left and right, as if it were a competitive sport, she was finally cornered in their bedroom closet, where Yizhuo practically lunged at her.

“You’re so—” Yizhuo let out an annoyed grunt and squeezed her arms around Aeri, whose laughter had turned into breathless wheezing.

Still tangled together, Aeri waddled them forward, out of the walk-in and through the room until her knees hit the bed, throwing them atop it, Yizhuo laid over her back.

“Aeri….” Yizhuo whispered.

“Hm?”

Silence followed and Aeri waited.

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“Okay. Good.” A finger traced swirls against her back. “I wasn't kidding, y'know. I was literally thinking about you all day. I don't know how I haven't just shriveled up and died from horniness.”

Her crassness made Aeri guffaw.

“Sorry, baby.”

“Are you gonna fix it for me?”

“Clean up your mess, you mean?”

Yizhuo scoffed. “Aeri…” She whispered after a short pause. Finally, the playful edge had been polished from their banter, now revealing the neediness that ran clear underneath.

Aeri’s breath hitched— she could feel Yizhuo’s thighs around her hips, how they tightened their hold, how her hips pressed against her ass, not moving, not yet, but it was so deliberately desperate.

“How do you want it?” Aeri asked, bringing Yizhuo’s hand up to kiss. She dragged her lips down the length of her fingers, one at a time, almost hypnotic with her movements. Teeth clacked against her wedding band, teasing.

“I-I don’t care, just need it.” Her hips lifted, then pressed down again, as if barely able to hold back.

“Did you think of a word?” Aeri asked, voice already turning raw from the thought of Yizhuo under her.

“Whitney.”

Even through the heavy haze of arousal, Aeri couldn’t help her bark of laughter.

“What? You’re definitely stopping if I say that.”

“No, I— yeah, that’s so— Oh my god, I literally had a full body reaction to that, I hate her. Wow. That’s effective.” Aeri laughed, warming at the feeling of Yizhuo’s own giggles against her back.

Pushing Yizhuo down onto the bed, Aeri hovered above her, thigh wedged between her wife’s legs. It was a slow, steady rhythm that they settled into, only enough to make Yizhuo’s breath catch, though, by this point, it didn’t take much.

“You gonna let me fuck you how I want?” Aeri asked. Her fingers tangled in Yizhuo’s hair and tugged back to expose the length of the younger woman’s neck. Trailing kisses up her jawline, words seared into her skin, “Gonna let me make you come finally?”

“Please,” Yizhuo panted, “please, please—” 

“Want me to stretch you out? You almost came without me, almost fucked yourself.” Aeri frowned. “Maybe I should just let you do that. Get it over with if you’re that desperate?”

“F-fucking hell, Aeri, please, I can’t. Wan’ you to fuck me, I don’t wanna myself, please—” Yizhuo rambled, almost incomprehensibly. It made Aeri smile sweetly.

“Wanna take the strap? Let me fuck you dumb? I wanna see it so bad, baby.”

Her fingers rubbed circles around the younger woman’s clit, still covered by her cute little pajama shorts.

Aeri would beg again. She'd show her raw need for Yizhuo, it didn't matter to her. She didn't mind looking a bit pathetic for her wife.

“Wanna, wanna—” Yizhuo echoed, syllables slurred into each other. Her hips canted into Aeri’s touch.

The older woman tugged Yizhuo’s bottoms off. “Don’t come yet, I don’t want you to.” Her digits easily slid between swollen lips, dipping into slick warmth, still teasing, not quite giving Yizhuo what she wanted yet. “I know you can do it, you’ve been so patient, baby, I love it.”

Glee filled Aeri’s chest as she watched Yizhuo melt to her touch, head thrown back, mouth ajar; it took no time at all to work three fingers into her eager, clenching cunt.

Legs tightened around her, an attempt to keep her where she was. Aeri chuckled— it was almost rude, considering the state that Yizhuo was in, barely hanging by a thread.

Aeri laughed lightly. “I’ll be quick.” She sealed the promise with a kiss to her cheek.

Returning from the closet, mid-way through adjusting the harness straps on her thighs and waist, she was greeted with Yizhuo on her knees, an impatient frown on her face. She looked so pretty; face flushed, pale thighs pressed together, gaze very clearly focused on one thing. Teeth captured her bottom lip, then her eyes flicked up to find Aeri’s, the simple gesture enough to pull Aeri from her daze and make her realize that they’d been staring at each other for an inordinate amount of time.

“Aeri,” the two syllables conveyed thorough frustration from the wait.

And Aeri found herself stumbling forward, a shaky breath stuttered out of her when Yizhuo gripped the strap, then slid from the bed to the ground.

Naturally, the older woman’s hand buried itself in thick black locks, with no particular intention but to disperse some of the adoration that made her heart swell.

“Gonna get it wet?” Aeri rasped.

Dilated eyes kept her prisoner; she could only watch, helpless to the younger woman’s whims, as a pink tongue curled under the head of the purple silicon toy.

She sighed, feeling the insert press against her sensitive clit through her underwear. The sensation could be a little too harsh without the fabric, plus, it helped keep the strap in place. But the physical aspect of it wasn’t what made Aeri’s knees weak. It was Yizhuo, always so good at taking it, swallowing down the inches with wide, round eyes peering up at Aeri through thick eyelashes. Soft pink lips would turn shiny with strings of spit, a testament to her wife’s eagerness. Yizhuo had a habit of making Aeri feel a bit useless, too overwhelmed to do much but let her will wash over her and, somewhat successfully, stumble in pursuit, only able to listen to the younger woman’s wishes, silent or otherwise.

This time it was silent; a pop as she pulled away from the drool covered length and wanting hands tugged at the harness. Steadier than her mind was, Aeri helped Yizhuo climb atop the bed again; she faced away from Aeri, kneeling still.

The sound of the lube bottle clicking open— strawberry flavored, at Yizhuo’s insistence— made the younger woman flinch. Aeri squirted a generous amount over the length of the dildo, before spreading it on with her hand, jerking it. It didn’t compare to Yizhuo’s touch.

Fingers still dripping with lube, she slathered it over Yizhuo's cunt, thoroughly sliding through the length of her, fingers on either side of her clit, then coming up to dip inside. Yizhuo trembled.

“Put it in, please.”

A broken groan stumbled from Aeri; the dildo sank in absurdly easy. Yizhuo was mush, melted into the covers, by the time Aeri had hilted, pressed against every needy, sensitive spot, like a craving being fulfilled.

Utilizing the give of the mattress, Aeri had her wife bouncing on her dick. Eyes heavy with desire watched her cunt swallow the slick length over and over. Unending, hoarse moans encapslated Aeri, sending goosebumps all over her body.

“You're perfect,” Aeri breathed, hands greedily grabbing at her waist, thumbs digging into her back, tracing up that perfect arch. She loved how soft Yizhuo was— when she’d grip hard enough for plush skin to spill over just that bit.

Reaching around, her middle and ring fingers circled her clit.

“F-fu—uck—”

The younger woman collapsed against the mattress. Arrested by ecstacy, not quite formed words came out like staggered gasps from her agape mouth. Visibly, Yizhuo gushed around the strap— Aeri, like a hummingbird to nectar, couldn’t resist but swipe her thumb around her width of the silicone, sliding through the absurd amount of wetness.

Yizhuo cried out, quivering from the touch.

“J-jesus fuck, Aeri.”

Arousal hit the older woman like a pang of hunger.

She bit her lip. Resistance against the strap made it hard to pump in and out. It pressed tighter against her clit, addictive.

“Fuck, you're tight,” Aeri rasped.

Her wife whimpered; she eyed the fingers that dug into the bedspread, wrenching and twisting the sheets until the bare mattress showed beneath, and through the tangle of chaos, gold caught her eye, glinting in the low light of the room. It made her thrust deeper.

Pulling a leg onto the bed for leverage, Aeri rose over Yizhuo and began pounding down, aiming for where Yizhuo loved where she curled her fingers. She was sopping wet— every thrust produced a depraved, squelching sound that had Aeri drooling.

Yizhuo screamed, a desperate, clawing sound.

“God—” Aeri’s breath caught.

Her fingers dug into Yizhuo’s little waist with unbound desperation. Pathetic whimpers stuttered from her lips; her hips mirrored them, jerking against Yizhuo, who whined from the overstimulation.

She didn’t expect to come. Lip between her teeth, Aeri’s chest heaved from the sudden onslaught of pleasure. It was almost bothersome, how needily she clenched around nothing, body still aching for Yizhuo.

Her wife’s eyes were still clenched shut when she turned her onto her back. Strap undone by Aeri’s clumsy hands, still high on her orgasm, she crawled between Yizhuo’s legs.

Nipping at a pretty, pale thigh, she pleaded, “One more? Please?” Wet kisses were pressed down long legs. “Need you.”

Her wife’s eyes were so pretty; round and sparkling in the low light of the room. Fingers carded through Aeri’s bangs, up, until they found a nice grip to pull her forward— Aeri listened, like she always did.

Side by side, they caught their breath.

Aeri ran a hand through her hair, cringing at the way sweat matted her bangs against her forehead.

“Wow,” she breathed.

She licked her lips; Yizhuo lingered on her tongue. It was ridiculous, how badly she wanted her wife pressed under her again. They’d barely been separated for a few minutes at best.

Yizhuo groaned beside her, seemingly not coherent at the moment.

“Three days.” Aeri pondered. She tapped her fingers against her bare stomach. “I wonder if you can go longer—”

“Don’t—” Yizhuo slapped a hand against her wife’s chest. “ — if you finish that sentence, I’ll kill you.”

Aeri laughed.

“You seemed to like it though.”

“I loved it.” Mischievous eyes sparkled. “You’re too good at listening to me.”

“You didn’t say your safe word.”

“Maybe I didn’t wanna traumatize you.”

“That’s why I married you. You’re so kind.” Nails pinched her shoulder. “Nevermind.”