#but it all works out for the best i suppose

[oatmealthighs]

plug!eren x blackfem!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. reader indulges 🍃, eren is overprotective, public sex, maybe semi public? idk. daddy/mama usage. might be some slightly toxic dynamics. but nothing too serious. rushed ending cus i suck at endings 💔 a sequel full of fluff will be coming soon out of this.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: omg i haven't posted in like months. but anyways what would i be without dropping the token plug!eren drabble. nothing too crazy, just some bathroom sex. also there are instances where there are texts but i got too lazy and didn't bother making texts out of them mwahahahaaa sorry in advance. this is barely proofread and not my best so if there are mistakes i am sorry. requests are open! also look out for a tengen x reader x wives fic coming really soon. like this week soon

the feeling of your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your true religion jeans whisked your attention away from the pearled blunt you had pinched between your fingers.

your glossy lips curled into a little smirk, your acrylics clicking at the keyboard of your screen.

you've been pushing eren's cute lil buttons all night. honestly all day... but you didn't feel bad for making him sweat. he's been trying you as of late.

you and eren were supposed to be spending some quality time together last night, and he was specifically supposed to be over your place by no later than 8:00. you had the whole shabang... bath and body works candle burning out, led lights on and set to the color purple, some of his favorite snacks and some dinner and dessert you had wrapped up for him that you had made earlier. you were planning on watching a show with him, giving him a scalp massage while he played his playstation that he always brought whenever he came over, and give him the best head he's ever received that night before riding him into the sunset, but all those plans went soiled. 8:00 came, and on the dot he had sent a text message about him having to go make a few more drop offs, then he'd come to you. 8 turned to 9, then 10:30, then 1... fucking... AM.

was it fucked up you didn't answer the door when he came knocking finally? kinda, but the guilt didn't last long when you thought about how he practically stood you up.

eren was a popular plug on the university you attended. you knew friday is usually the day that people were trying to cop, given it was majority people's payday and the weekend, but you were hoping that he would close up shop early just this one time for you. his clientele would live-- there were plugs by the dozen on campus. but eren knew wasn't none of them fucking with his shit. you weren't sure what other outcome you were expecting. he never turned his head away from possible income.

eren already knew he fucked up, but he knew ultimately in the end it was going to be worth it. the extra money was going to go into play towards his proposal to ask you to be his girlfriend, and no amount of your anger was going to get that out of him. he was prepared to keep his mouth shut, throw away the key, and take his lashings like a man. so when he was met with radio silence, he was flabbergasted.

when he pulled up to your crib and didn't get an answer from him knocking on your door and calling your phone, he figured you fell asleep and resulted in retreating to his abode. the next morning, when he woke up to find that you didn't respond to his apology texts from last night, it made him sit up in his bed and squint at his phone with crust-ridden eyes.

no response? it was so unlike you. usually you would respond with a barrage of text messages stating your feelings, or at the very least he'd get a passive-aggressive dry text from you. but to be met with nothing at all made his gut twist in a disgustingly vexing way.

he rubs at his temples, sending you a "good morning baby" text before opening the safari app and going to the local floral shop's delivery site.

later that afternoon, eren's sitting in his blacked out durango when he receives email confirmation that the flowers have been delivered, the low hum of the strong engine the only thing somewhat soothing his frazzled nerves. he made sure to get your favorite, and tried to ask them to incorporate your favorite color as much as possible.

he checks your location as he hits his blunt, releasing the smoke from his mouth and inhaling it through his nostrils. he already knows your home, having your schedule downpack. and you were. so why didn't you say anything about the flowers? did you not like them? he sends you a text, saying, "i sent you some flowers," staring at the screen and awaiting your response.

yess, you know he sent you flowers, and you loved them. you had gasped when you found them on your porch, bright and vibrant in color and smelling so freshly sweet. you had already cut the stems and put them in some warm water in a lovely vase. you almost wanted to text eren, to tell him how much you loved them and thank you, but the strong annoyance you had from last night still lingered. with a twist of your lips you disregarded your phone on the kitchen counter, humming a tune as you moved about the kitchen to prepare you a nice lunch.

eren releases a defeated sigh as he puts his jay out, not even in the mood to smoke anymore. mopily, he clicks off his phone, shifting his gear to drive to make more plays.

he spends the rest of the day pondering ways to possibly pull a conversation from you, and a lightbulb flickers in his head when he recalls you saying you were running low on weed. eren always gives you gas free of charge, one of the special privileges that comes with being his favorite girl. he opens his phone to text you again.

doechii's expressive voice flows through your speaker at a volume level most would call excessive. but you didn't care. anything to drown out the annoying pensive thoughts of eren's sexy little face. "i ain't a killer but don't push me, don't wanna have to turn a nigga guts into SOUP BEANS!" no, really, doechii.

your phone vibrates on your vanity as you rummage through your closet for a cute outfit to wear tonight, striding over to your phone with nimbleness. you figured it'd be hitch, since you and her were accompanying each other to the kickback tonight and she was asking either what time you wanted to go or what you were wearing. your hypothesis was proven incorrect when you saw eren's name on your notification wall instead. just him asking if you wanted to him to drop off some more weed for you.

your heart twinged ever-so-softly at the thought of you ignoring your baby. you missed him. it was embarrassing to say this was the longest you went without talking to him. but how would he know you were serious if you just gave in now?

you wanted to respond and tell him you were cool. hitch was bringing the weed tonight. but you refrained, if anything that would get him all the more riled up. eren doesn't like you smoking others weed, his reasoning being he doesn't "trust their product." he was so sexy when he was protective. you remember when you told him you copped from someone else when he had to go off campus for a little bit to see his family, and he spent a half hour inspecting it on the scale with his phone flashlight.

eren let out an irritated growl after constantly checking his phone for 10 minutes, still no reply from you in his notifications. he wanted to tell you you were dragging it, but he knew you weren't. you had every right to be pissed with him given he had promised you this quality time and swore he would make time for you. you were never a stickler for too much attention, but with eren always on the run it was easy for him to neglect you. he's been getting better at it though. until last night.

connie's name flashes across eren's phone screen. he slides the answer button right and lets his car sync the call to the radio. "yo."

"what's good, man. you coming to the kickback tonight? it's gonna be at jean's place." eren rolls his neck until he hears it pop. he knows you'll be there.

"yeah, i might come. today's been slow. don't got nothin' else to do."

"damn, i know that voice. what'd you do this time?"

eren weakly chuckles at connie's intuition. "what can i say, business was booming like crazy last night. we were supposed to hang out but my phone just kept ringing."

connie let out a long sigh over the line. "typical eren, never knows when to close shop." he pauses. "you know you're the asshole, right?"

"yeah," eren groans, shutting his car off and putting his phone on speaker. "i know. i plan on making it up to her."

"yeah, how? surely not with some weed and dick." connie snorts. "[name]'s a nice girl, you plan on locking it down with her anytime soon? i see the way floch be looking at her."

"he wouldn't dare," eren denies, the simple thought of it just making his eye twitch. while you and eren weren't official, basically everyone in the friend group and the vicinity knew y'all were on each other bad. but some assholes just didn't respect boundaries. he noticed floch's gaze would linger on you a little longer than he deemed appropriate. how they would trail your body. he noticed the way his cheeks would blush when you would speak to him in passing or make small talk.

"i dunno, man," connie instigated, smugness in his voice. "but, bring a quarter with you. it's on me, i'm gonna zelle you."

"just send me $50." eren and connie exchange a few last words before they end the call, leaving eren in silence as he stares at the gray wall of the parking garage he was parked in. he didn't know what he was gonna do about you.

eren always tended to look the sexiest when you were mad at him, or he was upset with you. he always would wear his hair down, taupe tresses brushing his broad shoulders. he'd always wear a black tee and some baggy sweatpants that always had you imagining what it was he had underneath. it was nothing you haven't seen, but it was always a pleasant surprise.

you felt your defiance wavering when he and all is glory walked in to jean's house, high as fuck. you swore you could smell his ysl cologne from across the room.

"you okay girl?" sasha questions, her eyebrows pinching in concern as she leans into your eyesight. you blink your mascara coated lashes, giving her a smile.

"yeah, my man just walked in. he always looks so good when im pissed at him."

"it's a trap. don't fall for it." hitch scoffs, her hazel eyes trained on the blunt she was busy rolling. her thighs were squeezed together to keep her carebear rolling tray in place. "don't even look his direction."

"i forget hitch is such a hard-ass. how does marlo manage," ymir jokes. historia chuckles, her head resting against her girlfriend's broad shoulder.

as their conversation goes on, your eyes can't help but find eren again through the decent amount of people crowding the bottom floor of the house, watching him interact with connie and hand him a bag of what you assumed to be cannabis. his turquoise eyes cut across the room, and you know he's looking for you. you look away before any eye contact can happen. when you feel eyes burn into your skin, you know he spots you.

the night involves you acting as if he doesn't exist, keeping your back turned and acting like you're too busy to acknowledge your phone notifications. when you finally light the blunt hitch pearled, you know eren texts you asking where did you get that. you chuckle to yourself as your thoughts were confirmed when you snuck a peek at your phone.

eren feels anger welling in his body as he watches you from a safe distance, lounging against the wall and his eyes never leaving you. you knew what you were doing at this point. wearing them jeans that made your ass sit so perfect and a crop top that teased at your skin and your belly button piercing. your hair was in curls, and your glittery lip gloss shone in the low light of the room. he knew you probably had on his favorite perfume too. that vanilla one he loved so much.

"just go talk to her dude," connie yells over the aggravatingly loud jersey mixed song that was booming through the surround sound, his words slightly slurred from the drink he's been sipping on. eren furrows his thick brows as he hits his spliff, watching the tip burn bright orange as he shuts his eyes for a moment. "and you better hurry. i think tonight's the night floch makes his move."

"connie, shut the fuck up." eren's tone is firm and warning as he feels the vein in his neck rising to the surface of his skin. he finally opens his eyes, glancing at you, and what he sees makes his stomach cave and everything around him turn red.

floch, with his ugly fucking haircut and that ugly dangling earring had the audacity to be all up in your glory, smiling sheepishly as you were saying something to him. he doesn't know what you were saying, your back was to him, but the way your head swayed and your hands were moving he knew you were talking.

honestly eren was never this defensive of someone before. maybe it was your constant insistence of you being fine on your own. "boy, i'm grown," you'd say to him. it only made his instinct to protect you grow stronger.

he knew well you could handle your own. but how fucking dare him?! it's like floch was begging for an ass whooping!

he wasn't actually. he was begging for you to send him the homework answers for your chem class. "not gonna lie floch, i haven't even looked at that shit yet," you admit with a shrug, your lips pulled into a friendly smile.

floch groans as he rubs the back of his neck. "i'm for sure gonna flunk that class. i might just say fuck it and retake it next year."

"not if i can help it," you interject, furrowing your brows. "we pass together, we fail together. i'll send you the answers on groupme tomorrow when i finish."

floch pumps his fist. "man, you're the fucking best, [name]. if you weren't in there i dunno what i'd–"

a hard body brushes past floch, harshly and intentionally slamming his shoulder into theirs. "hey, man, what the–"

you smell eren before you see him, wearing that delicious cologne that's stained into your bed sheets. you look up to find him looking down at you, fire in his sea green irises as he glares at you.

you feign oblivion, lifting an eyebrow at him. "hey," you speak first.

"why haven't you been responding to my texts." his voice is curt, but still soft nonetheless. you feel your girls looking at you intently to see how you were going to play this.

"been busy, sorry," you respond, not sounding much too apologetic.

eren cuts his eyes to the right to see floch still standing there, much to his distaste, a look of confusion plastered across his face. "you need somethin'?" he asks him, a foreign, cutting edge to his question.

"i was just trying to ask her about the homework, dude," floch bites back defensively, taking the smallest step back.

your dainty hand trails up to grab eren's forearm, your soft, irreplicable touch quelling his aggravation. you swear you could feel his taut muscles relax at your contact, knowing he was probably deprived. so dramatic.

"eren, calm down," you reprimand him gently, but sternly. you gave floch an apologetic glance. "sorry, floch. see you tuesday."

floch nods, his auburn eyebrows creased in the middle as he glanced at eren, then back at you, before departing. in tandem, you let go.

"what's your problem," you seethe, but not loud enough for your friends to hear. "you damn near made that boy shit his pants."

eren sucked his teeth, closing his eyes to roll them as he clenched his jaw. "why are you ignoring me, [name]," his low voice is strained, constricting his internal anger to the best of his ability. his high was blown, the music was too loud, you smelled and looked too good, it was all too much.

you place a hand on your hip, your beautiful eyes passive, but holding a glint of hurt behind them. "just collect your breath. i don't wanna talk about it here... even though you know what the problem is-"

"yo, [name], wanna hit this again?" saved by the bell.

"yes, pleaseeee," you drawl. you turn on heels, but not before telling eren, "i'll see you later."

shortly after eren departed to god knows where, and you got high as hell, was when you received that text. and you don't know if it was the marijuana making you fuzzy and horny, the growing urge to just be in his arms, or what, but you complied.

as you brushed and weaved between drunken bodies, you couldn't subdue the underlying feelings of anxiety that swelled in your chest. you didn't know what to expect. but you knew one thing for certain, you were gonna give eren a piece of your mind tonight.

when you finally made it to the bathroom door, you released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, shaking yourself of your jittery nerves before your knuckles rapped against the hollow wood of the door.

it wasn't even three seconds before eren cracked the door, and before you could say anything, you were yanked in.

you squealed at his presentation of strength, the butterflies in your stomach downward-diving straight to your core. "well, damn! what happened to hello? how are you?!"

eren ignored your playful reprimanding, instead using the time to soak and drink you in. you were so pretty, fussing at him like that. the way your glossy lips twisted as you spoke on about nothing relevant, the way your hair swayed with every movement you made. every muscle in his body urged him to kiss you, breathe you in.

"whatcha call me in here for? it's hot as hell..." you murmured, leaning against the cool wood of the door in attempt to catch your breath.

eren was quiet as he loomed on the opposite side of the bathroom, half-lidded cyan eyes carefully trained on you. you lifted your eyebrows with a shake of your head, prompting him to go on, your arms crossed against your glittery chest. "you're so pretty," he hums, a side smirk playing at his lips, showing his pretty white teeth that you wish you were nibbling on you just about right now.

"can't smooth-talk your way out of everything, eren," you resisted with a strain in your voice, turning to face the mirror to the left of you instead of him. "i'm still upset with you."

"rightfully so," eren agrees, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, backing you against the cool oak wood of the bathroom door. "'m sorry baby, you know i love spending time with you more than anything in this world–"

"i beg to differ," you interject. eren rests his eyes as he clenches his jaw, withholding a sigh. "all i asked was that you put me first for one night... and you couldn't even do that."

"baby, listen to me." eren's large hand engulfs yours, the warmth of his palm spreading through your limbs like wildfire. "words can't even begin to express how deeply sorry i am. i know i fucked up... i know. but, i had reason i've been wanting to work a lot more often as of late." he pauses. he couldn’t possibly pop his question in a bathroom at connie’s party. you’d hate him ten times more than you already do in his moment.

you cock your brow, looking up at him through those pretty lashes that framed your eyes so well. “i’m waiting, eren.”

he sucks in a deep breath, making the sound he usually makes when he’s about to say something you don’t like. “just… trust me. okay?”

that was enough to make you head for the door, reaching out to twist at the knob before he grabs at your wrist. “man, move,” you mutter, over the bullshit. you were over it all: the lies, the empty promises. and you were especially over being crowded in this bathroom with him, because you felt your resolve faltering with each passing second you remained in his presence. you felt like an animal resisting every primal instinct and bone in your body, begging you to let him touch you. it was borderline pathetic.

“you aren’t going anywhere, [name].” he meant that in more ways than one.

“how much you wanna bet?”

the frustrated glint in his aquamarine eyes and the knit in his thick brows made your knees give.

“ummm, have you guys seen [name]?” hitch asks after a good thirty minutes fly by since you first departed the group, skating her eyes around the living room with a quizzical glance.

ymir snorts. “you already know she ran off with that boy,” she exhaled the smoke she was holding in her chest out towards the ceiling, running her long fingers through historia’s golden locks. “wouldn’t be surprised if she already dipped off with him.”

not quite. instead, you and eren were still in the bathroom, your ass on the bathroom counter and your head resting against the mirror as eren was crouched before you, low to the ground as he slurped at your pussy like a man starved. he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, tongue flicking at your swollen clit before taking it into his mouth to suck on it whole. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your eyes rolling behind your closed eyelids as eren gazed up at you with hearts in his eyes. you were always so fucking beautiful, whether you were mad at him, grinning at him, or cumming for him.

“fuuuck, i think i’m bouta cum again,” you whimper, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm brewed at a slow boil within the pit of your stomach. you already left your mark all over the marble sink, leaking down your thighs, and all over eren’s chin. but when was that ever enough to satiate his thirst?

“do it, baby,” he breathes, french kissing your pussy before speaking again. “you know i want it.”

“get it outta me, then,” you retort, a sexy simper pulling at your lips, and the darkened glare he have you through heavy eyelids made your pussy squeeze.

his big hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging in your skin as he begins rocking your lower body up and down, sliding his long tongue from between your pussy lips to your ass with each bounce. you let out a squeal of surprise, your pink toes wriggling as he just kept doing it, over and over and over. you hear him, moaning with each stride, reveling in the saccharine taste of you. his dick felt like it was bouta break, restricted to his boxer briefs, and he felt the sticky precum leaking on his thigh. he needed to fuck you. but he always prioritizes you over all.

your orgasm bust inside you, your pussy profusely contracting as your juices coated eren’s face. “fuck, yeah,” he encourages in you, his voice in a low growl of satisfaction. he didn’t stop, cleaning you up and slurping your pussy clean. you flinched as he left a final loving kiss to your aching clit, and he chuckled as he stood to his feet. your eyes couldn’t help but look at his crotch, you couldn’t help but smirk at the prominent tent of his stiff dick being held hostage in his sweatpants. “turn around for me. i want you to see me fuck you.”

you slid off off the counter, ringing your panties off the ankle they were hanging on to, before turning around, leaning against the sink and arching your back. you looked back at him, gazing at him tauntingly. “whatchu waiting for?”

“cool it,” he warns you playfully, his thumbs hooking into the bands of his sweats. "don't bite off more than you can chew."

"i've had mouthfuls of you. i promise you i can chew."

"look at the mirror."

you turn back forward, looking at eren in the reflection. he was so pretty, his hickory locks tousled around yet still framing his face beautifully. his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth as he shifts his pants to fall below his knees before rolling his briefs down his thighs. he lifts his tshirt up, showcasing his tan abs that had a slight shimmer of perspiration as he readies the head of his dick at your opening. then, with steady hips and a deep breath, he pushes forward.

him putting his cock inside of you was such an irreplicable feeling, you don't know how to explain it. to feel his girth stretching you, giving you a burn that was so deliciously good, always made your head spin. you whine, pushing your ass back just a little bit to help eren bottom out in you. he cusses under his breath, grounding himself with a hand on your ass cheek as his pelvis met flush against your tailbone.

you felt his dick twitching inside you, and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan as you let your head drop against your arms folded over the sink. eren grit his teeth, his jaw clenching as he tries to regain his composure. you were so warm, so wet, so greedy judging by the way your pussy squeezed him like a vice. any sudden movements and he was bound to nut in you.

suddenly, the bathroom knob jiggles, followed by pounding against the door. you jump, your muscles stiffening as fear tickled at your tummy. eren hisses, his nails digging crescents in your cocoa buttered skin at you tightening around him. "uh, anyone in there? i gotta piss!" connie. what are the fucking odds.

"uhh, give me a few minutes!" you yell, your voice uncharacteristically shrill from your newborn anxiety as you looked back at eren with wide eyes. "maybe we should-"

you were shut up with one, heavy stroke, eren almost completely unsheathing himself before bottoming out in you again. your words died in your throat, replaced with a gasp.

"uh, okay...?" the end of connie's okay drawls up in the end. "wait, [name], is that you? are you straight in there?"

"yes... fuck, yes!" you sputter out, squeezing your eyes shut as eren picks up his speed a bit, but not his power. he was gonna do you a favor and not fuck you too dumb in here. he wants you to at least have some chance of walking out of here on your own two feet. "i'm fine!"

"okay, okay! i'll just go upstairs." after a few seconds, you hear connie shifting away, but that genuinely wasn't your main focus. eren was rolling his hips, making sure the tip of his dick hit that sweet spot that made you sing with every. single. thrust. your head was down, resting against the counter, your eyes stuck in the back of your head as you took every inch of him with grace. your moans were mere whimpers, trying your best to muffle them with the inside of your arm.

eren sees his phone vibrate from his place on the hanging shelf beside him, and he smirks to himself when he takes a brisk glance at the banner:

convict: [name]'s in the bathroom. she didnt sound too great so u should prolly check in on her

eren groans under his breath, leaning forward to mold his abdomen against the curvature of your spine. that motion was enough to make him feel like he was touching your stomach. "what are you doing?" he purrs, flicking his tongue out to lick at the shell of your ear. he feels you shiver, your shoulders shuddering as a sex-soaked cry escaped your lips. "i said i want you to watch me fuck you. why are you hiding that pretty face?"

you had nothing but a pathetic moan to offer as a response, and he scoffed to himself, a smirk curling at his lips. he stands straight, both of his hands settling at your lovehandles as he begins sending you to poundtown. the impact of his hips against your ass was loud, and there was no doubt that if anyone came to the door they would hear you getting the shit fucked out of you. "be a big girl, mama," he muses. his hand reaches for your curls, gripping your tresses to pull your head up and back. you squealed, your eyebrows pinching at the burning sensation. you mustered up the courage to flutter your eyes open to be met with the godly sight of your man, looking down at you throw those thick eyelashes, his cheeks tinting pink from the overwhelming heat of the small, crammed space. " watch me while i fuck you."

his wish is your command as you watch him through teary eyes, licking your lips at the feeling his hand snaking up the arch of your spine to come around and grip your chin. the pads of his fingers rest on your cheeks, slightly squeezing as he snaps his hips against you from behind. his eyes are boring into you, clouded by lust with a hint of adoration, watching the way your face contorts into pleasure-ridden expressions. he's watching the way your plump lips wrap around his thumb, the way your titties bounce with every deep thrust and threaten to spill out your victoria's secret bra and tank top, the way that fat ass jiggled and made waves every time he drilled his dick in you. you were perfect. from your pretty face, to your loving heart that had a padlock with his initial on it, to your gushing pussy that would squirt all over him just for him.

"this pussy is so perfect," eren hums, looking down in awe as he watches the way you cream and squeeze on his shaft. "it's like it was made just for me. was it, baby? this is just my pussy, right?"

"you know that, daddy," you slur, feeling your orgasm coming to a head. you were so ready to release, your pussy just aching to cum. you hear him give a chuckle, his hips speeding up in tandem.

"i think you're ready to cum now. i want it all on my dick. can you do that for me, princess? or is that too much to ask of you?"

but before you could even muster a response, it was as if a tsunami hit your pussy, because the way your juices sprayed against his upper thighs was a damn shame. eren lets out a moan of appreciation, biting his lip as he lets your orgasm ride out and coat his dick. he gives your ass a few appreciative cracks, making you tighten around his cock until you managed to collect your breath.

eren slowly begins unsheathing himself from you, his dick still solid as concrete but he honestly wasn't concerned with getting his own nut off right now. after all, this wasn't going to be the last time he was to be in you tonight. as soon as he takes you back to his place, he was gonna fuck you through the mattress and the bedframe.

...

"girl, there you are! you've been missing for like, an hour!" you bumped into hitch on your way towards the front door, eren being your guide but you squeezed his hand to let him know to stop. she shifts her eyes to him, then looks back at you with an "oh-i-see" look. "you headed home?"

"yeah, eren's gonna take me."

"okay, be safe," hitch adjusts your shirt, tugging the top hem over the shadows of your peeking bra. "call me when you get in."

"she will." eren assures hitch, and she nods, the two of you slipping away from the crowd and going off into the night.

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[anisespice]

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev. pt.2

one synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ kaku, rin, koko ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: koko’s is short but FOR A GOOD REASON I SWEAR lol i'm just happy it finally got written after MONTHS of keeping yall waiting. thank you once more for your patience and eagerness to read, hope you enjoy! :)))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow , @captaincyberqueen

Stumbling through the entry of his home with the help of the Haitani brothers, a drunk KAKUCHO groaned after they roughly tossed him onto his couch without an ounce of care, the youngest dusting off his hands and his counterpart adjusting his suit with a click of his tongue. “Can’t believe your light-weight ass let that idiot talk you into downing a whole bottle of bourbon.” 

Rindou scoffed. “I can’t believe we got stuck with taking him home.” 

Ran shrugged, heading for the kitchen. “Eh. Rather him than the walking pepto-bismol still passed out at the bar.” 

Kakucho gave another groan, lopsided with his face buried in the cushions. While his brother prepared a glass of water and pain pills, Rindou occupied himself by watching the wallowing man through a pitied lens. Shaking his head, he sighed, “Never seen him drink that much…Think something’s going on?” 

“In our line of work, I can only imagine what isn’t stressing him out.” 

“Yeah but…look at ‘em,” he gestured. “It’s pathetic.” 

“I can hear you...” Kakucho eventually spoke, although muffled in the cushions. 

“I’m aware.” Rindou replied. 

Ran snorted, setting the glass on the coffee table and the bottle of meds right next to it. He then leaned down to turn the dead-weighted drunk over with a grunt, placing him on his side. “There. Don’t need you choking on your vomit,” he pointed at the table, “take those and drink that whole glass. Call Koko tomorrow if you aren’t dead.” 

Kakucho groaned once more, sluggishly reaching for the glass and nearly knocking it over. Rindou hissed as he quickly grabbed it before it tipped over. With an irritated huff he grabbed the front of the younger male’s button up, and hauled him up to face him forward. It was difficult to keep him still, and Ran wasn’t looking to help anytime soon as he smirked at the display. Rindou cursed him and everything under the moon until he finally managed to sit Kakucho upright long enough to put the glass in his hands, guiding it to his mouth. 

He grunted, annoyed, “Drink.” 

The dark-haired gangster stared longingly into the rippling water, cheeks flushed, lips pouted. His mind began to wander, his one good eye glazed over as he gently swayed to silence. Rindou impatiently tapped his foot, “The hell’s wrong with you, drink it already.” 

“Patience, otouto. He probably doesn’t remember how.” Ran mocked, earning a side-eye before Kakucho proved him wrong by gulping down the entire glass. Once finished, he let it slip from his hands, landing on the ground with a sharp clatter. Ran clicked his tongue again, “You were supposed to take a pill with that.” 

“Fuck the pill..” Kakucho muttered, slowly falling back down to his side and curling up as best as his long legs would allow. “Leave me alone..” 

Rindou turned on his heel. “Don’t have to tell me twice-” 

“Actually, now I wanna know. Someone like you doesn’t indulge our activities, let alone participate. So, what gives?” 

Abruptly stopping in his tracks, Rindou turned back to shoot his brother an incredulous look, shocked he would reopen the door that was closing. He was ignored as Ran leaned against the back of the couch wearing a sly grin, feeling particularly nosy all of the sudden. Having never witnessed this side of his superior, it piqued his curiosity. Kakucho didn’t respond, didn’t even move. Ran would’ve guessed he passed out if not for the occasional hiccup he heard.

Rindou sighed heavily, since they didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon, coming back to sit in a chair with crossed arms. Ran continued to push until he found the correct button. 

“Was it something that happened on the job? Mikey scold you for not restocking his snack cabinet? The dry cleaners not press your suits correctly–Let me know when I’m getting warmer.” 

“I said leave..me alone…” Kakucho slurred, “I wanna [hic] be alone…” 

Ran hummed, unphased. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve mentioned. C’mon, we got you home safely, I feel like we’ve earned an explanation on what made the pristine number three fly off the handle like this.”

No amount of teasing was going to break Kakucho. At least, not when he’s sober. The aforementioned lightweight always regulated how much he drank because of how decomposed he became, how sensitive he got. Despite his best efforts to remain under control, he was slowly losing his grasp of it the longer those two knuckleheads were in his home. He didn’t want to share what got him so worked up, it was nobody’s business but his own. Sadly, his resolve was fragile from the start, and all it took was a small gust of wind to have it come crumbling down…and Rindou’s input came barging in like a raging storm. 

“Bet it’s about [_____], isn’t it?” 

Kakucho’s eyes nearly burst from his skull, body moving before his brain could catch up as he practically shot up from the couch like a rocket and borderline tackled the lavender-haired man, knocking both him and the chair backward, landing with a harsh thud. The sudden movement caught the brothers off guard, Rin more than Ran for obvious reasons. Kakucho grabbed the younger Haitani by his collar and began shaking him roughly, a furious look upon his flushed face as he practically snarled in Rindou’s. “Don’t you ever say her name, you hear me?! I will slit your fucking throat, you sonofabitch–”

“Whoa, hey, take it easy,” Ran swiftly disengaged Kakucho, catching him in a headlock and stepping backward to separate them. But, if he thought it was going to be that easy, he had another thing coming. 

Kakucho elbowed Ran in his side. It did little damage, only making the older male clench his teeth and eat it, still trying to hold him back and calm him down. They shuffled around for a moment until Kakucho made move to bite into Ran’s forearm with all his might. Though the pain was dulled thanks to his jacket sleeve, it still shocked him enough to loosen his grip, leaving just enough wiggle room to escape his grasp and reel his arm back to throw a mean swing. However, due to him still being very much intoxicated, he missed him by a longshot when Ran just took a small side-step out of the way, sending Kaku to stumble and crash into a side table. Luckily the lamp was there to cushion some of the impact.

Rindou clutched his stretched-out collar, brows furrowed as watched the scene unfold from his position on the floor. “..the fuck was that?”  

The ravenette moaned on the floor, but not in pain from the fall. No doubt he’d feel in the morning, but all of his agony came from within at the mere utterance of your name. He laid there in the heaps of broken shards and began to weep, so deeply from his soul that it stunned both brothers to an awkward silence. His body trembled with each cry, mumbles of your name smothered in with the wails as they echoed through the empty house. They watched him for a moment before exchanging looks. Ran made a silent gesture to leave, but Rindou merely shook his head with another sigh. There was no way they could leave now, thanks to him…

Scrambling up to stand, Rindou gestured for his brother to handle one side while he came to the other. Together they were able to heave their superior off the floor, careful not to cut him or get cut from the scattered lamp pieces. He weakly fought against them, still blubbering like a newborn until he eventually gave up, most likely from exhaustion. They hauled him back to the couch again, only this time setting him down gentler than they did the first time. Kakucho’s face fell into his hands as he continued to sob, shoulders shaking as he poured hours' worth of pent-up emotion right onto the palms. Ran scratched the back of his neck, mildly perturbed. Rindou stood with his arms crossed, frown heavy. “See? Pathetic.” 

“Careful. He might attack you again.” Ran warned sarcastically, Kakucho rapidly shook his head in protest. 

“I-I won’t.. Forgive me, I don’t..I don’t know what came over me..” he said, meekly, ashamed. “I just..when you said her name, I remembered she…s-she..” 

Ran’s eyes widened a fraction, “What, she died?”

Kakucho shot him a tearful glare, sniffling as he firmly said, “No. Don’t say such a thing so casually.” 

He threw his hands up. “Hey, don’t blame me, ‘m not the one who suplexed a lamp because my ex’s name was dropped. Nearly ripped my poor, little Rin’s head off, too.” 

“Shuddup, man.” 

“I’m just saying that-”

“She had a baby.” Kakucho voiced, extinguishing the argument and stunning them yet into another silence. Rindou’s arms dropped to his sides whilst Ran’s brows raised to his hairline. “And...I’m almost certain it’s mine. No..I am certain.” 

His words hung heavily in the air. So much so, both brothers had to take a seat. Rindou stared at Kakucho while Ran stared at the wall, speechless. Until he eventually found the words. “Damn. Don’t know whether to say congrats or condolences. How’d you find that out?” 

Kakucho sighed, drying his face on his sleeve. “I had business in Kyoto to attend to earlier today. When I finished, I stopped by the cherry blossoms, where we...used to go together. That's when I saw her...further down the trail. She wasn’t alone.” 

The visual flooded his foggy mind like high beams, the sight of you wearing a beautiful dress he’d never seen before, glowing heavenly beneath the sun and fallen cherry blossoms. He felt as if he was standing in memory, as if he was in a reality where he was still yours. Kakucho remembered how his feet had a mind of their own, forcing him forward to get closer to you, to speak to you after all this time apart. But, his bubble bursts the second you crouched down with open arms, ready to embrace the child running back to you after attempting to catch falling petals. He froze. You scooped up the child with ease, showering the small boy in kisses to the point his squeals flowed happily in the soft breeze. Kakucho felt his chest tighten then twist, knees buckling the second he saw those bright, crimson eyes staring back at you…it was like seeing an image of his youth. He should've approach you right then and there, to demand answers, to demand explanation, anything to soothe this ache. 

But, he didn’t. 

He was afraid. Afraid of what you’d think, of what you’d say. You kept this from him for a reason, didn’t you? All these years, and he found out completely by happenstance. Had he not gone out there, would he have ever known? Would you have told him? Maybe you didn’t think he was fit to be a father, maybe you did this to keep the child safe. Maybe you no longer believed that he could keep either of you safe… 

It tore at him, from the inside out. No matter how he tried to ignore it, the ache grew into a throb, and the throb into a chasm that only the bottom of a bottle could satiate. And even then, all he could think was how much he failed.   

The brothers exchanged another look, having no idea the kind of demon their superior was dealing with. Despite not caring too much about it, they still felt bad. What man wouldn’t be devastated, especially given his background and how he grew up. Ran gave a low whistle. “That’s…rough.”

“Yeah. Wish you said that instead of trying to kill me.” 

Kakucho rubbed his face, embarrassed. “I apologize...truly.” 

“Tsk. Apologize to the lamp.” He shrugged it off, not holding a grudge over it. “You know, you can just reach out to her. Even if it’s to hear her say she wants nothing to do with you, that’s closure at least. Because this, what you’re doing now, is pathe-” 

“Pathetic, I know, I heard you the first damn time.” Kakucho pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the effects of the alcohol start to simmer out, and a headache closing in. “I suppose.. you’re right. If she doesn’t want me in her life or his then…at least she’ll know I’ll always be here if she needs me.” 

Ran offered an approving nod, opening his mouth to say his two cents only for his phone to interrupt him. The specific ringtone made him close his eyes in immediate annoyance: Sanzu. Sighing heavily through his nose, he reached into his pocket and answered, “What-” 

“YOU BASTARDS JUST LEFT ME HERE?!”

RINDOU was used to the stares he’d get at the gym, but this was new for him. 

After completing another hundred reps on the bench press, during his cooldown he noticed his small audience gaping at him in awe from a nearby machine. The little boy gasped at being caught, ducking behind a weight twice his size before peeking over it, only to completely disappear when he saw Rin still looking his way. 

He huffed through his nose, amused. But, he elected to ignore it. No harm in letting the little guy get some inspiration for future gym goals. After a quick break, Rindou prepared for his next set, setting his water down and adjusting his headphones. Laying down on the bench, about to lift the bar off the rest, he noticed the little boy in his peripheral, peeking over the weight once more, large eyes wide with curiosity. He couldn’t help the small grin tugging on his lips, prideful to have such innocent admiration compared to the usual thirst from onlookers he was accustomed to. 

However, it made him wonder…whose kid was this? 

There wasn’t a children’s area in this particular gym, let alone many that were brought, so someone had to be looking for him, right?…and there’s no telling how long the little boy’s been following him. The parent must be worried.

But it wasn’t his problem. 

He was there to workout and leave, not worry about someone else’s ankle-bitter, no matter how adorable. 

Unfortunately, Rindou made the mistake of peeking back at the boy, seeing him trying to imitate his form with his little arms, face scrunched in concentration and tongue sticking out. He nearly dropped the weight on himself at the sight, losing his own concentration. Kissing his teeth, he set the bar back on the rest, snapping the little boy from his focus. Although Rindou’s brow was furrowed, he wasn’t too annoyed at the interruption, sitting up to finally address his new fan. 

“Oi. It’s impolite to stare.” 

The boy flinched slightly, then looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. “'m s-sorry, mister…” 

Rindou felt a pang in his chest. With an exhale, he stood from the bench and removed his headphones as he walked over to the kid. Crouching down to his level, he took note of how the boy struggled to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the bottom half of his shirt. “Hmph. Guess you can’t learn the correct form without watching someone else. You trynna build muscle, too, little man?” 

Like flipping a switch, the boy’s eyes lit up as he nodded his head excitedly, tiny fists pumped. “Yeah! Wanna have huge muscles! Get big and strong like the heroes on TV!” 

He raised a brow. “Yeah?” 

“Uh huh! But-But you’re bigger, mister! Like,” he extended his arms as wide as he could, “SUPER big.” 

He grinned, smug. He liked this kid. “Damn right. But, you know, in order for me to stay this big and strong, I have to focus on my workout. And I can't really do that with you watching me like a hawk."

The little boy's mouth formed an 'o' before he covered it with his hands, sheepish as he looked at him with guilt, "Uh oh.."

Rindou shrugged, "t's fine, I ain't mad," creeped out, but he doesn't mention that. He looked around for a second, trying to see if there were any indication of someone appearing frantic or distraught. When he came up with nothing, he sighed, "How about this: Lemme finish my last set, and then you and I find your dad or something. Deal?"

The boy lit up once more, "C-Can I help?"

Rindou raised a brow, "Help, huh?" The boy nodded, eyes big and bright, and hopeful, and dammit. How can he say no to that face? He kissed his teeth, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure. You can...help keep count, I guess. How high can you count?"

"To a million!"

With a snort, Rindou merely shook his head, standing back to his full height to walk back to the bench with the ankle biter hot on his tail. How he ended up on babysitting duty was beyond him. But could be worse.

One set and a struggle to count past the number 30 later, Rindou held the boy's hand, who he eventually discovered was named Rintaro, as they scoped out the gym high and low to find his father. No matter how many men he pointed to, Rintaro claimed none of them.

Rindou was starting to grow frustrated.

There were still some workouts he hadn't gotten to yet, and this was eating up time. The younger Haitani had half a mind to just drop the kid off at the help desk, but every time it crosses his mind, he makes the mistake again of making eye contact with the boy and his big ole eyes. He looked happy to just be holding his hand, as if Rindou held up the moon and stars. It was...a little off-putting he won’t lie, but adorable, nonetheless. He couldn't just abandon him, even if he wanted to.

He sighed, “Seriously, kid, did your old man drop you here and leave? We should’ve found him by now…”

The boy blinked up at him, confused. “What old man?”

“No, not an old man, I mean your dad—Look, where was the last place you saw him before you wandered off?”

“Oh. I don’t have a dad.”

Rindou stopped. Then, with a swiftness he scooped up Rintaro by his underarms and held him at eye level, glaring at him with a twitching brow. “What.”

The boy sheepishly grinned. “I'm here with my mommy...”

“You mean to tell me we’ve been walking in circles for almost ten minutes, and you were just not gonna share that? Why didn’t you say something??”

“Because…” he fiddled with his fingers, looking down. “I like being with you…it’s fun…”

Well, shit.

Just like that, the anger evaporated. Rindou kissed his teeth, setting the boy back on the ground, crouching down to his level. Then, ruffling his hair, he said, “Alright, little man, no more games. Your ma’s probably worried to death about you. You said you're wanting to get strong to protect her, right?”

Rintaro nodded. Rindou continued, “Well you can’t protect her if you keep leaving her by herself, especially with all these meatheads around. You gotta stick by her, watch her back. And promise you won’t do this again. Okay?”

He nodded again, “Okay…”

“Okay, and?”

“And I promise…”

Rintaro sniffled, wiping his eyes with his fists. Rindou felt another pang in his chest, his intent not to make the kid cry. It’s not like it was his job to discipline him…

He ruffled the boy’s hair again, leaning downward so he could see his face. “Oi. No waterworks. Besides, you gotta be good so she'll bring ya back. You can't count for shit, but.. wouldn't mind having a spotter. What d'you say? You up for it?”

Like flipping a switch, Rintaro’s head perked up at the indication of not only getting to see him again but being a part of his routine. He nodded so hard, Rindou feared he’d give himself whiplash. Though, there was no hiding his grin. Yeah, he liked this kid. Reminded him of himself when he was that age…come to think of it…he looks sorta similar, too—

“Rinta!” Came a voice from afar, stressed and full of emotion.

“Mommy!” He answered, smile widening upon seeing you approach, arms extended out as he ran over to you. When Rindou stood to face the direction where the boy ran to, it felt like his world turned to slow motion, eyes narrowing in on the aforementioned mother—His ex.

He froze like a deer in headlights, shoulders tensed to where he could feel a cramp setting in. There was no way he was seeing this…no absolute shot in hell that you were here before him, hugging and kissing the kid he spent half an hour with, who allegedly didn’t have a dad, who just called you—“Mommy?”

At the sound of Rintaro’s confusion, it was then Rindou snapped from his daze and realized you had noticed him standing there, the two of you locking eyes; you looked equally horrified. And you were probably thinking the same thing he was.

Out of all the people…why’d it have to be you?

“I’m sorry, but this store is for grown ups with real money. I’m afraid I cannot accept this, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

The little girl pouted angrily up at the woman, arms crossed in displeasure. How dare she say such a thing about her piggy bank, she didn’t even bother to count how much was inside. That was a months' worth of good behavior at school, a couple tooth fairy visits, and some Monopoly money, and she worked hard to get it.

“Look you hag. ’m not leavin’ til you hand over the necklace with the shinies and sparklies on it for my mama’s birfday. So, cough it up!”

The woman appeared revolted by such lack of decorum, hand over heart as she gaped down at the little girl, face reddening with anger. She waggled a finger, lip upturned as she scolded the child, threatening to have her escorted out by security, only for it to be shut down by the sound of the little girl blowing raspberries up at her. The woman gave a dramatic gasp, horrified at such bratty behavior. However, before she could even reach for the phone to dial the number for the security office, an unexpected guest decided to step in.

"Belinda, are you being bested by a child?"

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, full body turning towards the source to come face to face with one of the store's top investors, KOKONOI Hajime. Her skin grew pale in an instant, loss for words as she struggled to explain the embarrassing display he just walked in on. The little girl paused her taunting to gape up at the beautiful, shiny man before her, thinking a prince just popped right off a cover of a fairytale book. Draped in a stylish red kimono, with various jewels hanging off him like ornaments that twinkle beneath the warm lighting of the store, it's a wonder how he even made a place like this feel cheap. But what really caught her attention was his snow-white hair. It looked so silky, just begging to be braided and decorated with various bobs and barrettes. Maybe even some stickers–

"K-Kokonoi-san!" The woman exclaimed, startling the girl out of her daydream. Bowing deeply, forehead nearly touching her own knees, she disappeared behind the counter. Blinking widely at the perceived magic trick, the little girl craned her neck to see where she went, only to be disappointed that she didn’t actually disappear. "I-I wasn't informed you would be dropping in, s-sir. Please, excuse my rudeness."

"I was in the area," his gaze locked on the fetus at his shins. He points down at her. "Who is this?"

"I'm..not sure, sir. She's been causing a disturbance. Making a scene, demanding I let her purchase one of our display items with...board game currency."

The girl stomped around the corner to point at the still bowing woman. "I gave you money, now gimme the shiny! Those are the rules!"

Belinda peered up a little to squint at her, sneering as she spoke, "For the last time, you little miscreant, that money isn't real."

"It is, too! It's green! Money is green, you dumb hag!"

"You-!"

Kokonoi grinned, amused, "She has a point. Money is green, Belinda."

Said clerk shot up and eyed the white-haired man, flabbergasted. "S-Sir! You can't really be encouraging this obscenity, I mean, honestly! My job is to make sure nonsense like this is handled, and this little girl is disrupting the peace of this store."

"Mm. You getting worked up over some kid won’t resolve anything."

Belinda flushed a bright red of embarrassment once more. "Y-Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies." She bowed again.

Koko merely rolled his eyes, gesturing to the phone. “Just get security on the line. Someone’s gotta be looking for her by now.”

"No! 'm not leaving until you gimme mommy's birfday present!"

Kokonoi hummed, tilting his head in a teasing manner. "Too bad. That necklace isn't for sale. And it won’t be for a long time. Why don’t you start smaller, huh? Draw your mommy a picture or something."

She angrily pouted, pointing at her piggy bank on the counter. “I held Hammy all the way here, and his tummy’s full! Mommy says when his tummy’s full, I can buy whatever I want. And I. Want. That. Necklace.”

Koko’s brow twitched, leaning down to look her right in the eye as he grumbled. “Look, you little brat. I already told ya, it ain’t for sale. Now, be a good girl, and wait quietly until security comes to get you.”

The girl met his stare with a challenging one. This means war.

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[starrystar]

So I teach college in the U.S. (English), but I often get these dual enrollment classes where I'll go to a high school and teach the supposedly high achieving high school students the college-level class, generally English 101, 102, and 103. It's free for the students and lets them get the GE's out of the way and spend less time in higher ed, which ostensibly helps them save money and makes it more likely that they'll finish their degree. It also makes the high school look good. In practice, most of the kids are just massive balls of anxiety constantly living one lost point away from a mental breakdown, but we vibe because I also did dual enrollment and I'm also Mentally Ill in That Way (tm), and they tend to really warm up to me over time. They are generally sweet and some of my favorite students even if they do some really "my brain is not fully developed yet" bullshit sometimes.

The downside is the high school does not have enough room, so I alway teach in some high school teacher's room. My contract says the high school teacher is supposed to vacate because they're not enrolled in my class, but in practice this is their planning period and their room and they have literally nowhere else to go to do very necessary work, so we all just agree not to interfere with each other and go about our day, and usually it's fine save for the odd high school teacher acting like an enrolled student (it is funny that they want to be the specialist and best English 101 student as an adult with at least a Bachelor's competing with children, and sometimes we have to talk privately). I have had new high school teachers literally break down in tears when I ask how they're doing, so I don't want to make their lives worse. There is a reason I dropped out of the credential program and pursued higher ed teaching.

I was honestly a bit startled by the pledge over the loudspeakers at first because I did independent study and it's been a while since I experienced that, and I didn't have fond memories (sometimes I was a Good Little Girl(?) who stood up and put my hand over my heart but didn't say the "under God" part, and sometimes I didn't say anything, and sometimes I wouldn't put my hand over my heart and would get in trouble—I didn't even hate America yet, it just felt culty). So when my kids asked if they had to stand, I said they didn't but they could if they wanted to, and some did and some didn't, and it was fine aside from occasional weird looks from host teachers.

However, I was placed in a room with this one lady who was just militant about the pledge. Just like, intense. She wasn't there the first day when we had the "you don't have to" conversation, so the next day when she saw me and some kids sitting she just went completely off the fucking rails. I'm telling you this middle aged woman was fucking screaming her face off at 14- and 15-year-old kids about how she is a veteran and what disrespectful trash they were, so I put my body between her and my children and explained that legally they didn't have to and this was my classroom, and she very nearly slapped me but settled for calling me a child and ordering us out of her room. So, me and 40 giggling teenagers trooped out and headed over to the college counselor's room.

First they (admin) tried to tell me I did need to force the kids to stand, so I pulled up v. Barnette on my phone. Then they said they couldn't force me, but I wouldn't be asked back to teach, and I said OK but this semester's class was mine and these kids didn't have to stand if they didn't want to (I was mad at this point and getting over my initial shock). The resolution they offered was that they would speak with the unhinged pledge defender about not interfering with my classroom, and for the next few sessions I would teach in her room while she silently glared daggers at me, slammed drawers, slammed her door, had loud phone conversations, and stormed around throwing paper in the back of her room. Then we came back after spring break, and she started demanding that my kids stand up again, and I told her that it was my classroom during my class period and she needed to leave, and she stormed out and I wrote complaints to the school and my college, and then I was put in a different room with a teacher who thought the whole thing was funny.

I was asked back because I'm the best fucking college English teacher that high school has and basically perfect in every other way (my kids earn fantastic grades and do really well in their later classes because I prepare them to succeed; I'm good at looping the counselor in when they need support I can't offer; I write great letters of rec; my kids get into Berkeley and Stanford; I am honestly just really good at teaching), but I still see that lady on campus and she always mean mugs me. I'll get a new crop of kids and they'll go wide eyed and ask if it's true that I went up against Mrs. Flag Defender like their older siblings said.

I have noticed that the whole high school moved the pledge of allegiance to be at the beginning of second period instead of first period, I suspect because college classes are always first period. This may have just been coincidence, but I always work in "a little trivia" about students' rights, including the right to sit for the pledge, as part of a greater "common misconceptions/critical thinking" module. I do sometimes hear that they've gotten in trouble in other classes, and I do warn them that punishment is a possibility, but I hope they're learning something useful from me besides just MLA and grammar.

dear usamerican high schoolers looking for a way to resist fascism: sit through the pledge of allegiance.

no getting up. no looking at the flag.

everyone will be looking at you. you'll be sweating like a fucking hippopotamus. your teacher will sternly tell you to get up. you'll feel stupid and that maybe its not worth it because you're just a kid in a classroom. but I'm here to remind you that there are no real life consequences to detention. there are however real life consequences to resisting a thoughtless performance of nationalism.

[kuroshitsuji-wiki]

It's Yana Toboso's birthday! (January 24, 1984)

Yana forgot her birthday this year...

... so there's even more reason to congratulate her and celebrate!

Some trivia:

She chose her penname "Yana Toboso" to indicate what kind of manga she wanted to create: Because there are so many mangas whose central themes are dreams, hope, friendship, and love, she wanted to make a manga whose focus is the opposite. "Yana" derives from "iya" (unpleasant, detestable, disagreeable; here: unpleasant/nasty child), and "toboso" is meant to signify importance: a "toboso" is a cavity in the frame of a door used as part of a pivot hinge; as doors wouldn't work without hinges, hinges are important objects. "Yana Toboso," therefore, is meant to mean "the hated/bad child is in the middle" (憎まれっ子がど真ん中にく る). (Character Guide, page 146)

Yana once stated that Ciel resembles her the most out of her characters. (Character Guide, page 147)

*cough* Obviously.

Exhibit A:

(Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji VII, from Volume 17)

(Chapter 76)

Exhibit B: The iconic Pancake Saga from 2018!

Yana's grandmother encouraged her to become a mangaka, and her mother pushed her to submit her work to a publisher when she was 20. Both have since passed away. (sources: akumadeenglish, The Japan Times)

She is a fan of the band L'Arc-en-Ciel (source). HYDE, the vocalist of that band, wrote the opening for Season 5. Yana was obviously very happy about that!

Yana contemplated making "fluffy spin-offs" to Kuroshitsuji, e.g., "a gourmet manga featuring the canteen of the Shinigami dispatch association HQ, or a manga where the Indian butler cooks curry or the black butler makes sweets, or where the servants make small discoveries." However, she dropped those ideas because her "fluffy concepts" kept becoming ominous after a few chapters. (source)

Kuroshitsuji was not meant to be set in 19th-century England from the beginning. Mr. K and the chief editor eventually suggested England as the setting. Yana, who did not know much about England (and could not find many materials early on; source: Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji II in Volume 2), especially not about 19th-century England, and did not believe the manga would be a hit anyway, then cooked up the wonderfully anachronistic Volume 1. Since then, Yana has become more knowledgeable about Victorian England, got a historical advisor (Rico Murakami) who also, sometimes, translates sources for her (source: Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji Special in Volume 15), has been (re-)learning English, and visited England twice. The manga has, thus, become significantly more historically accurate over the years. Still, as it's a fantasy manga, Yana likes to incorporate anachronistic elements for story purposes (e.g. Grim Reaper tech and possessions, Wolfsschlucht) anyway (or simply because she wants to; e.g. the idol groups, I suppose). Anachronisms have, thus, shifted from accidental to deliberate.

Sebastian's mobile phone will be forever iconic, but it has been retconned for over a decade now.

And The Wild Earl lost more than his head was cancelled when all TVs were thrown out of the continuity with the end of the Indian Butler Arc (TVs are last mentioned in Chapter 23).

May we learn many Victorian things alongside Yana in the next years too!

(Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji II, Volume 2)

And may she have a happy, restful birthday so that she doesn't forget it again^^' (And the best of health^^)

[honeyhotteoks]

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

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

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

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

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

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

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

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

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

He feels your ache though, and you feel his. 

Besides, it’s almost, almost over. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone nods.

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

Everyone nods again. 

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

There’s a chorus of responses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone echoes back their understanding. 

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

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

Your chest warms, and so does his. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung grumbles something and Yunho chuckles. 

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

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

For a moment, Yunho doesn’t move. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach sinks like a stone. 

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

“Iseul,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Iseul,” You wrap your arms around yourself. 

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

You stay silent, stomach tight. 

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

You blanch. 

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

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

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

Your eyes flick down to the pavement. 

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

Your head snaps up. 

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

”Iseul,” Your voice comes out weakly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She rubs your back as you sigh.

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

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

“I guess,” 

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

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

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

You smile, “Yeah?” 

“Totally,” She nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet,” 

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

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

“We nearly did,” 

“And?” She takes a drag.

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

She nods, “He seems like that type,” 

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

“You and relationships,” 

“This is different,” You cross your arms.

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

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

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

All you can do is nod. 

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

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

You laugh, “Got it.” 

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

Your stomach twists, “Fuck,” 

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

“Okay, you’re right” You nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iseul keeps you busy, keeps you steady.

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

everything alright?

you seem tense, did something happen during the show?

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

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

let me know you get to your room safely. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouch,” You grimace at her words. 

“Am I wrong?” 

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

“Call him,” She interrupts your thoughts again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yunho?” She says, “It’s Iseul,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Iseul!” 

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

His reply is short and she laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t be long, I’m sure,” 

She shrugs, “Be safe,” 

“I will,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love to,” You murmur. 

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” 

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

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

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

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

“Late night, like this?” You ask.

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

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

“Where else have you always wanted to go?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” You breathe. 

“Wait for it,” He murmurs.

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

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

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

“Yunho,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, “One minute,” 

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

Your heartbeat quickens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, a little crease between his brows. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile, finding your phone and dialing him. 

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

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

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

Butterflies roll through you, “Oh, yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your body melts at the message. 

Are you hurt, jagiya? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight? You can’t help yourself. 

Where? 

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

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

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

I won’t - He replies instantly.

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

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

“You don’t mind?” You ask. 

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

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

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

Aren’t you tired too? - You ask him. 

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

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

I will - He says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warmth fills you, “For how many days?” 

“Three,” He grins. 

“Me too,”  

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

”None,” You murmur, “sleeping,” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” 

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

“Really?” Your hand tightens on his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” 

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

Your hearts feel like they’re in sync. 

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, “I know,” 

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

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

He smiles, “In a bit,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” He nods, “Beer?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a great place,” He says again. 

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

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

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

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

You grimace, “That’s terrible,” 

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

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

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

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

“And?” He asks. 

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

“And then you came to KQ?” 

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

“I’m glad she did,” He smiles warmly.

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

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

“A little bit of fate,” You smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cock your head, asking him a silent question. 

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

“Dull?” You offer. 

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

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

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

“Me too,” You confess.

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

“Yun?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, breathless. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Distracting you from what?” 

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

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

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

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

He nods, “I know, let me explain,” 

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, sorry, go on,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Please,” 

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

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

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

He smiles. 

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

He swallows hard. 

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

He nods, “And,” 

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

His shoulders relax under your touch, “Good,” 

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

“I thought so,” He murmurs appreciatively. 

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

He nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us,” You smile, “I said I want us,” 

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

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

He groans, “Let’s go to bed,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He eases you to your own step. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groans, “You’re perfect,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

Your stomach flips pleasantly. 

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

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

Yunho groans, his hands wandering. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He huffs a laugh, “Yeah?” 

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

“Patience,” He nips at your lip. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums pleasantly, and then kisses your mark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A needy sound stutters from your throat. 

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

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

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

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

Moaning, you grip down on his shoulder. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yes, god,” You grip the sheets. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-hi,” You sigh. 

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

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

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

You melt into his touch, cheek to chest. 

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

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

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

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

“I am,” He squeezes you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Completely,” 

“I’m yours,” You murmur, promising him the same. 

“Mine,” He breathes. 

Your kisses travel lower as you work your way down the smooth plane of his abdomen, his muscles twitching under your lips, but as you settle yourself over his hips and work your mouth closer and closer to the base of his cock he shifts under you. 

“Hey,” He catches your hands, closing them in his own, “I’m fine,” 

“I want to,” You smile, a tender kiss to the underside of his shaft before you let your tongue trace up the seam of his thick member. 

He gasps, hips twitching, but he shakes his head, “Wait, wait,” 

You pull back immediately and look up, a swirl of feelings knotting in your gut, “What?” 

He swallows hard and slides his hands up your arms, hooking under your upper arms so he can tug you back up to lie next to him eye to eye, “Not tonight,” 

“I want to make you feel good,” Your hand snakes between you, searching for him. 

“You do,” He sighs as your hand closes around him, “you are, but after what you said,” 

It feels like a bucket of cold water and your hand falls away from his cock. You hate your ex so much for being anywhere near your head at this moment with this man, but he is. He never hurt you, but the way he pressured you and pushed you into things you weren’t ready for has been an ever present shadow in your sex life even now, years and multiple partners later. 

Yunho kisses your lips and tries to keep his tone light, “Another time,” he tells you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“It’s not,” You fumble over your words again, “it’s not bad, I’m alright, I want to,” 

He smiles and shakes his head, “I’d be more comfortable,” 

That takes the wind right out of your sails, and you sink into him, “Oh,” 

“You want to make me feel good?” He asks. 

You nod. 

His hand slides down your arm, drawing your own hand to his aching cock, and he closes your fingers around it, “Touch me, then, we’ll have time for the rest later,” 

He’s hot in your hand and you take in the weight of him as you slide your fist up and down to explore him. 

He groans, “Again,” 

You pump your hand once more, base to tip, rolling your wrist experimentally this time as you work his tip. Leaving any thoughts of the past behind, you focus on him entirely. 

“You’re s-so good at this already,” He sighs, “just like that,” 

Your bodies shift to accommodate, he cuddles you closer with one arm wrapped around you and your legs tangled together, and slowly you start to learn his body too. The way he twitches as your fist drops down to the base and squeezes, his gasp when your knuckle brushes up over the seam of his cockhead. His eyes blow wide when your thumb collects a bead of precum to rub up and down his shaft, and he moans when your fingers tighten and release. 

His free hand snakes between your bodies, finding your slippery center again like he’s been touching you for years. 

“Oh, Yunho,” You part your thighs. 

He groans, eyes slipping closed for a moment, “You’re so wet,” 

You moan as he slides his fingers lower, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. 

“Needy,” He murmurs. 

You do your best to focus on him, but the pressure of his fingers at your wet opening has you jerking your hips. Your hand tightens on his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath, nodding. His cock feels so right in your hand, thick and pulsing, and you shiver, “I should have known you’d be huge,” you giggle against his shoulder. 

He smirks, “Yeah?” 

“You’re tall,” You start. 

He pulls his fingers back away from your pussy, dragging the pads of his fingertips over your clit as he does and you moan, a whiny needy sound from the center of your throat. 

“Not all tall guys,” He starts to say but you pump your hand just right and he curses. 

“Mm,” You slide closer to him if at all possible, “but you’re big everywhere,” 

You punctuate your words with a gentle tease of his cockhead, the pad of your thumb rubbing a circle into the seam that made him pant before, and he twitches, his eyes rolling. 

He swallows tightly and smiles, “Am I?” 

“Mhm,” You nip his chest lightly with your teeth, pumping your hand again nice and slow, “big feet, big hands…” 

“Been thinking a lot about my hands, sweetheart?” He teases, dragging his nails lightly up and down your thigh. 

“Shut up,” You duck your face, planning to double down your efforts on his cock, but he pushes your hand away and rolls you smoothly onto your back. You drop back with a squeak, your eyes flying up to his. 

“You have,” He teases, sliding his palm down your body, a slow and torturous pace on the path to your cunt once again. 

“Maybe,” 

”Fantasizing about my fingers?” His voice is low, warm in his chest, and he slowly presses his middle finger over your clit. 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head drops back, eyes finding the ceiling once again only this time Yunho makes a soft noise, his tongue against his teeth and he shakes his head. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He murmurs, his fingers rocking gently over your swollen bud. 

You are a little, but there’s something in his tone that tells you he likes it and you think about the way his eyes flashed at the idea of being your first partner his size. With every little touch you’ve been figuring him out, and this suddenly feels like he’s allowing himself to want you in the way he needs. If he wasn’t so good at pressing all your buttons you’d try to tease him again, but when you meet his eyes and see the heat behind them, all you can do is melt. 

His next words leave you breathless, “I fantasize about you,” 

“Y-you do?” 

“All the time,” He nods, his hand between your thighs getting bolder as he explores your wet folds. 

“Please,” Your hips arch as the tips of his fingers pass over your entrance again. 

“Oh baby,” He groans, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your thigh, “you need it?” 

You nod, reaching down to find his wrist, tugging him to communicate while your head feels so full of fuzzy pleasure. 

“Fuck it,” He bites his lip as he looks down at you squirming in the sheets, “I’ll tease you later,” 

“Thank g-,” The words die on your lips, punched out of you when he slides two of his impossibly long fingers deep into your cunt in one push. 

He doesn’t wait for you to beg this time, with his eyes glued to your every expression, he reads your pleasure and starts to pulse his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering core with strong, steady strokes. 

“Yes, yes,” Your legs widen, and you collapse into his shoulder, “oh my god,” 

His fingers feel thick and warm in your cunt, crooked just right to reach spots you could only hit with toys, and even then the feeling of those pale in comparison to him. 

“I knew you’d feel good,” He pushes your legs open wide with his free hand, “can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” 

Pleasure arcs up your spine and you moan, your hand flying to his bicep and gripping down hard, “Fuck,” 

He presses a kiss to your shoulder as he adjusts his position and in torturously slow pumps of his hand, he starts to work you open. He scissors his fingers wide as draws them out, and when you feel him push in a third finger as deep as he can go, you shudder against the sheets. 

“So tight,” He murmurs, the words sounding like praise on his lips, “you’re squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches in response and he chuckles. 

“Exactly like that,” He smiles and thrusts his fingers in and out again, increasing his pace as your breath starts to quicken. 

“Y-Yunho,” You jerk against him, the bubble of a building orgasm once again gathering low in your gut and you scramble in the sheets until you’re legs are open as wide as possible, one leg hitched over his. You can’t stop watching him now, the lean muscle of his arm, the way the tendons in his forearm twitch with his movements. Pushing up on your forearms you catch sight of his index, middle, and ring fingers gathered tightly together, glistening with your wetness as they plunge in and out of your fluttering cunt. 

“So beautiful,” He groans, kissing your temple and wrapping his free arm around your back to adjust to the position change, giving his arm enough leverage that he can keep thrusting in and out. 

You moan at the heady sensation of his fingers at your g-spot, hips pushing down into his hand. 

“Want you to come again,” He says hotly against your hair.

 You nod, heels digging into the mattress as your body jerks, needily meeting each stroke of his fingers with your hips. 

“Tell me,” He says. 

“H-harder,” You beg him, sensation cascading through you, “harder, baby, please,” 

“God, yes,” He adjusts, and suddenly you’re pinned back to the mattress flat on your back, one of Yunho’s broad hands stretched wide on your sternum to pin you in place as he fucks you open with the other. 

Perfect, almost painful pleasure has your eyes slamming shut and a desperate whine on your lips, “Oh, oh, oh,” each push in of his fingers punches out a breathy moan, your pussy fluttering as he draws you up to the peak. 

“Tell me you’re close,” He pants, “I want to hear it,” 

Your nerve endings light up, your body arching under the hard press of his hand, “I’m so close, I’m so f-fucking close,” 

“Come for me, baby,” 

Your nails dig into his thigh, the pressure mounting inside you, “Again,” you manage, begging for more. 

His fingers curl, just a little more, “Come,” he says it again, only this time his tone is sharper, deeper and more direct. It’s not a question, not a wish or a hope, it’s a command. 

Your free hand claps over your mouth, stifling a moan and you bite down on the fleshy heel of your hand to keep from screaming. 

“Come,” He holds you steady, “that’s it, let go, let it all go, baby,” 

Your body erupts into ecstatic shakes, pleasure rolling through in wave after wave, but all you can do is let it. 

“Just like that,” He groans, “fuck yes,” 

This time, as your orgasm starts to abate, he doesn’t kiss you tenderly or wrap you up for a cuddle, this time he’s just as frantic as you are. 

“I need you,” He pants, his body over top of yours once again, “y/n, fuck,” 

You blink hard, still a trembling mess, and you see his own desperate expression. His cheeks are pink, brow slick with sweat, pupils dilated with desire as he opens your legs and crowds you with his body. 

“T-talk to me,” He manages, his hand directing his weeping cock to your throbbing entrance, “tell me you still want this,” 

“I want this,” You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer, “I want you,” 

“God,” He’s shaking, his body taut like a rubber band about to snap, and somewhere inside you you can feel the amount of self control he’s exhibiting just to go slowly. 

You moan sharply when his tip drags over your throbbing clit. 

“You’re so wet,” He pants, watching between your bodies as he slicks the head of his cock between your folds. 

“For you,” You breathe, your head feeling cottony. 

“So pretty,” The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and you shiver. 

Need sparks through you, “Please,” you tug at his hip, just a little and he smiles. 

“Tell me if I need to stop,” He manages, his weight collapsing a little as he slowly starts to push his hips forwards. 

You gasp as you start to feel him, your cunt still swollen and pulsing from two back to back orgasms, and his eyes snap up. 

Yunho watches your face carefully as he moves, his body strung tight as he tries to hold onto a thread of composure. It feels normal at the start, but as he pushes in past the head, you feel yourself start to stretch wide in a way you’ve never experienced and your breath starts to quicken. 

“Oh, fuck,” You look between your bodies, watching his slow sink into your wet heat, and swallow tightly at just how much of him is left to take. 

“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.

“Uh-huh,” You manage, “I can feel everything, but god, don't stop,”

He hisses, gripping your thigh with his free hand, fingers still slick with your juices, fighting the urge to lose himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes flicking over the expression of tight pleasure on your face.  

“Don’t you dare pull out,” You grip down on his shoulders and roll your hips roll a bit, taking him in another inch, “you feel so good,” 

He lets out a heady breath, and moves in just a bit more, “Yeah?” 

“Never felt anything this good,” You moan as he pushes in further, your walls fluttering and clamping around his hot length. 

He rolls his hips this time, just a little experiment to drag himself in and out without fucking into you fully, and he moans when your muscles lock pleasantly around him, “God, you really were made for me,” 

“Yours,” You say it like a vow, and in a strange way somewhere in the back of your mind you know it is. A dizzy promise in an almost marriage bed as your bodies sink together. 

His breath hitches, cock shifting inside you, his head dropping so that you’re forehead to forehead, “And yours,” he agrees softly. 

Your body feels hot suddenly, hotter than before, everything a hazy glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom. You feel all at once like you’re in the moments before a wave, the sudden suck back of the water with all the sand slipping away from underneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and sinking into the earth. Your ears catch with a dull ring. 

Your breath is comes quickly now, warmth flushing your chest and cheeks, and your nails tighten on his skin, “Yunho,” 

He adjusts to meet your gaze, and you realize he’s feeling exactly what you are, the thrumming sensation of it all but swirling around you in the air. He blinks hard, “I’m.. I need,” 

You understand him without words, you know exactly what he needs because you need it too. Through the fog of sensation, you pull lightly on his shoulders and hitch your calves on his hips, drawing him in deeper, “Please,” 

His hips drop, seating himself just a little more and you moan at the stretching sensation. He’s holding himself back, clinging to the one clear thought that he promised he’d take care of you, but his resolve is crumbing apart before your eyes. 

“Yunho,” You cup his cheek, begging him with your expression to let go, “I need you,” 

He swallows hard, his chest flushed red, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. 

The words flood out of you, a whispered confession just for him, “I love you, please,” 

He exhales in a rush, a wide smile breaking across his face, his eyes shining, and without any more hesitation he thrusts forwards and sinks his full length inside you. 

You moan sharply, wrapping your arms around him as he drops his body down on yours, sweat slick skin pressed flush together. The hot dizziness grows, and he finds your lips, moaning against your mouth as he kisses you hard. Your bodies start to move in sync, a tandem push and pull as he rolls into the cradle of your hips, your breath tangled together as you rock in the sheets. 

Yunho leans his forehead against yours, pumping his hips slow and firm, “I love you,” 

The sensation grows, filling the air around you and a chill rushes up your spine, the hair on your arms standing up at attention, the magnetic pull between your bodies so forceful you don’t think a single thing in the world could drag you away from him. Emotion rocks through the link, and then all at once you feel it snap into place. 

Your tattoo burns, the brand igniting just like when you touched his cheek for the first time, and you suck in a sharp breath. Yunho’s hips stutter in pace, sinking himself deep until your bodies are nestled together with every inch of him buried inside you. 

He’s breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around you, hands trembling, “I can feel you,” he leans up an inch, smoothing your hair back from your face, “you’re,” 

His words die on his lips but he touches his chest and you nod, you feel him too. One single heartbeat, one breath. The link before was nothing, a mere echo of this, a blurry photograph now sharply in focus, and you reach up to brush your fingers along his cheek, his lips, a ghost of the sensation along your own face. 

“How is this real?” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve seen the movies, read the books, you’ve talked to people who have found their soulmates before, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You feel him inside you as if he were a part of you, his skin your skin, his emotions, even the shape of his thoughts.  

You understand all at once why people say it’s possible to die of a broken heart. If you ever lost him, lost this… 

“I’m here,” He interrupts your internal spiral, dipping to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere,” 

“How did you,” You shake your head in strange awe of the feeling, “what is this?” 

“I don’t know,” He kisses you again, “I just knew, I felt it,” 

Tears spill over, snaking back into your hairline, and you press your palm to his chest, sliding down over his tattoo. Words fail you, all you can feel is the overwhelming breadth of your souls together. How could anyone live without this, how could anyone believe this isn’t real?

“Don’t cry,” He soothes, wiping the tears from your temples with his thumb. 

“I’m happy,” You manage, finding his eyes again, “Yunho, I’m so happy,” 

He grins, his breath catching in his throat as he lets his forehead rest on yours again and he nods, “Me too,” 

His love thrums through you, tangible and solid, a truth you didn’t know you could have. You’re grinning too now, an elated laugh on your lips as you wrap your arms around him, “Fuck,” you thread your fingers in his hair, nuzzling into him, “you love me,” 

“So much,” He confesses quietly, “I didn’t know I could love someone like this,” 

“Me too,” You press your lips to his, sighing into him, “I love you too,” 

The kisses feel like his love actualized, nothing more true than his mouth, his need, and yours reflected back in the mirror of his desire. You moan as another wave of heat floods through you, and Yunho shudders.

For a moment, there’s nothing more to say, tangled together in your bed in the middle of Seoul, time seemingly standing still just for you. Tightly locked together, you both start to move again. Each slow pump of his hips down is met with an upward roll of yours, his cock slowly stroking in and out of your pulsing center, your arms wrapped around each other as you pant and moan. 

You crumble apart together, still deep beneath the dizzy waves, his mouth hot against your ear as he releases inside you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him, drawing him in, holding him inside.

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

[rosenclaws]

Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭

warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting

a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.

Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.

Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.

"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.

“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”

“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.

“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.

“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”

“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.

Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.

“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."

"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.

"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.

"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."

"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.

"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.

"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.

Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.

"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.

"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.

"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.

"Fine."

You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.

You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.

"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.

"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.

"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.

"Alright deal."

Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.

It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.

You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.

He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.

Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.

He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.

"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.

A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.

"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.

"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?

The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.

"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.

"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.

"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.

"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.

"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.

"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."

"Well she's my girlfriend."

"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.

"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.

Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.

"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.

"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.

Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.

Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.

"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."

"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.

"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.

"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.

"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.

Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.

"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."

You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.

"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.

"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.

"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.

"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.

There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.

"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."

"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.

Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.

"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."

"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.

"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.

"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"

"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.

"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.

"What?" You ask in disbelief.

Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.

"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."

"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It doesn't matter,"

"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.

"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.

All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.

"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.

His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.

His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.

"I wish we had done this sooner."

"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.

"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.

"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.

"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.

"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.

God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.

"I've never been better. Now, take me home."

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Mask... Take It Off...

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary - You ask Ghost to take the mask off.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Vaginal sex. Rough Sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Blindfold.

A/N - An old one shot I found in my backlog. Enjoy 💜

Word Count - 1.4k

The small room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin and soft moans. Each roll of your hips brings you closer and closer until you are teetering on the edge of what truly feels like insanity. Your body is hot. Pleasure is burning through every nerve in your body while sweat drips and runs down your skin; the taste of salt filling your mouth. 

Ghost has been working you all night. Bringing you toward the edge over and over again, but never actually letting you reach it. You are starting to get the feeling that he does it because he likes to torture you.

His back is against the wall. While his hands rest on your thighs. Occasionally they move from their place to slap your ass or roughly play with one of your tits. 

Those deep brown eyes of his, framed by equally dark eyelashes, watch you intensely. It’s the only part of his face that you can see. It’s the only part of his face that you have ever seen. Except maybe Soap. He’s always wearing a some sort of balaclava or skull mask. It drives you mad. All you want is to feel his lips and tongue on your skin. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples or his tongue lapping at your drooling pussy. 

With how hot and bothered you are you have no freaking clue how he’s even still able to wear the damn thing. If it was you underneath that balaclava you would feel like you’re suffocating. 

Out of breath, with your legs aching, you slow your movements down, but don’t stop completely. You lean forward and press your forehead against how, doing your best to ignore how much you hate the feeling of the material against your sweat soaked skin. Your hands come to rest on the tops of his pecks.

“Ghost?” 

“Yeah, lovie?” he asks. His voice sounds strained. It comes as no surprise to you considering how hard he is inside of you. His cock twitching each time your walls flutter around him. He’s got to be as close to his own climax as you are to your own. 

You hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and asking the question you always ask.

“The mask? Take it off? For me?” 

You don’t expect anything to come from your asking. It never had done before. He usually flips you onto your front and fucks you into the mattress until you’re shaking from the after effects of your own orgasm and dripping with his. Before he unceremoniously pulls out from you and leaves you to deal with the mess all alone. Usually avoiding you for weeks afterwards until the next time he needs a release.

He looks at you for a moment, completely silent. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognise. It’s a long moment. One where the only things you can hear is your heart beat thumping in your ears and the squelching noise that your cunt and his cock make together sounds even louder than it did a few minutes ago.

He’s never looked at you like that before, you quickly realise. There’s no time for you to question it or figure out what that look means as he reaches for the bedside cabinet. Where his knife is laying. Ghost uses it to slice a strip of cloth out of the bedsheet and sets it aside. He brings the piece of scrap cloth up to your eyes and covers them, tying it behind your head. 

You can’t see shit now, but you don’t question it. You trust him and that extends to whatever the hell it is he is currently doing.

“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” 

“The fuck am I suppose to know?” you whine. Your pace slows further and you can feel your incoming climax fading away. Your legs are really starting to kill you.

“Just checkin’.” He slaps your ass, hard. Making you yelp.

The next thing you know there’s a rustling and you hear something hit the floor. Ghost takes hold of your hands and brings them up to his face. 

Holy fuck. He actually took his mask off for you.

Your fingers trace his face, mapping out every little detail you come across. You want to commit all of it to memory. While you can’t see him, this is certainly a step in the right direction. 

Ghost has pleasantly full lips and a sharp jawline. Already you’re thinking about how nice it will feel to kiss him. Those lips moving with your own in perfect harmony. 

You move away from the thought and continue your exploration. His nose is crooked and there’s a bump in the bridge from where it’s been broken countless times in the past. And you know exactly where his scars are from the way his skin is raised and rough in places. There’s not as many as you thought there would be. The biggest one that captures your attention is on the side of his face. Starting at his forehead, snaking just past his eye and down his cheek, toward his mouth. 

None of them shock you. At least, not completely. And you don’t think that they take away from how handsome you think he must look. 

As you’re tracing his face, you can feel Ghost shifting and moving beneath you, adjusting your positions slightly. Before you can ask what he’s doing he roughly thrusts up into you.

You moan loudly as your hands slide up to grip his hair. It’s a little bit longer than you were expecting it to be, but that makes it perfect for grabbing and tugging on. And you imagine it to be as dark as his eyes.

Ghost sets a hard and fast pace and builds your pleasure back up tenfold. Your moans quickly grow into cries as he fucks you. The grip that you have on his hair tightens as you desperately try to ground yourself. After being edged all night long you honestly feel like you might spontaneously combust. 

Suddenly you feel as if you are falling. With another yelp, this time out of fear not surprise, your fingers leave his hair to grab hold of his broad shoulders as your heart skips a beat. Your back hits the softness of the mattress and, for the first time ever, his lips meets yours in a passionate kiss. Even now you take note of how this is your first kiss ever with him and it’s completely and utterly perfect. You moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth. He tastes like peppermint gum. 

His pace remains just as relentless as before. The bed starts to creak with every thrust that he gives you. Your body jumps as the pad of his calloused thumb presses against your clit and he starts rubbing it in time of his thrusts.

All of that tension that has been building up inside of you all night long finally snaps. Euphoria rushes through every inch of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches and a wordless cry, muffled by Ghost’s mouth, leaves you. The feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock has Ghost falling over the edge straight after you. His hips stuttering as his cock twitches and he fills your pussy to the brim, so that you’re overflowing with his cum. He collapses against you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

With the absence of your bodies moving, the room is now only filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.

“Thank you. For trusting me, Ghost.” you finally say as you run your fingers through his hair.

There’s a pause. You expect him to pull away and to leave. Like he always does. But tonight is a night of firsts apparently. 

“It’s Simon.”

It’s your turn to pause for a moment. A part of your brain almost has you looking at him before you remember the makeshift blindfold you still have on. 

“What?” you ask, not sure if you had heard him right.

“My name,” he replies. “It’s Simon.” 

You truly feel honoured by the amount of trust that he is showing you tonight. First with removing his balaclava and letting you feel his face and now with telling you his real name. You know that it must take a lot for him.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Simon.”

[moonshinesonic-moonstarslight]

More Tiny Cumplane!

Og Mobei Jun: *stares down at tiny Qinghua. Wonders if Qinghua got cursed. Sees wide excited eyes staring back at him. Really wonders if his human got cursed* Hm.

Airplane (currently the size of a 3yold): *beaming smile, not worried at all about getting killed by his favorite character* Hi! You are very pretty, my king!

Og Mobei Jun: *knows Qinghua only calls him that to others when questioned on why he supports the 'weak' fourth prince. Also knows that Qinghua only talks about his looks when drunk or drugged. Worry increases* Oh? Is he now?

Airplane: *nods happily, gesturing wildly* Of course! My king is the best after all!

Og Mobei Jun: *flattered even if his concern has skyrocketed. Plotting on finding out what happened to his human* Hm.

Og SQH: *rushes into the room* Xiao Yi! I told you to go to Qing Jing! Why are you still... *Sees Mobei Jun* My Lord!!

Og Mobei Jun: *two Qinghuas? One big? One little? Yi? As in one? Stares at his human searching for answers*

Og SQH: *panicking because the child was not supposed to meet the demon he works for! The little brat will share with his friend no matter what. And while Shen-shixiong will not be told anything, the disfavored disciple will be* This lowly one apologizes! Aiya! Aiya! Xiao Yi get over here right now.

Airplane: *skips over, enjoying this immensely. Has a horrible idea mid-skip. Grinning as he continues over* Okay Mama!!

Og SQH: *keeps his annoyed expression without faltering, but now silently screaming and wondering if he was actually his much of a menace as a child (yes), pulls the child out of the room* Excuse us my lord, I need to talk to my child for a moment.

Airplane: *seeing that this is backfiring quickly, tears up* I'm sorry Mama. Xiao Yi just wanted to see 'your king' as he's Xiao Yi's king too!

Og SQH: *finish dragging the child out of the room, silently wondering if killing his 'younger self' would be worth it* And Mama did not think it was safe for Xiao Yi to do so yet. That is why Mama told you to go play with A-Yuan and Bing-ge on Qing Jing. *Tightens hold on child's wrist slightly* You are very lucky my lord is feeling merciful at the moment Xiao Yi.

Og Mobei Jun: *listening in, wondering when his human had a child and more importantly with who. He could have sworn he ran off all the others eyeing his human. Did Qinghua go behind his back even with this? ... Was his human so desperate for a child that he wouldn't wait for Mobei Jun to propose? He had been waiting for Qinghua to respond to the courting attempts... Had he missed something? Did Qinghua respond and he just went along like nothing happened? If so did his sneaky human take matters into his own hands as usual?* Hm. Mobei Yi then.

(Yes, Mobei Jun has come to the conclusion that Airplane is his and Qinghua's child. That SQH went out of his way to have out of frustration of their courtship going nowhere. He is never corrected on this. Airplane finds it hilarious and Og SQH is blind to this conclusion.)

[electricwhims]

Infant Resize Preset

Are you sick of using demon toddlers? Do you want newborns that actually LOOK like newborns? Well you came to the right place cause one night I had a midnight thought that I turned into a reality and it was to make those toddler resize presets but for INFANTS!

The proportions look so much more newborn-like, eh? I tried my best to use real newborn references for an accurate scale!

DISCLAIMER: THIS PRESET IS FOR POSE USE ONLY. It kind of works with gameplay, but it doesn't give you any new gameplay features for newborns. They will act like infants

HOW TO USE?

STEP 1: Equip preset in CAS

The preview looks like this! And is located under body presets!

-Note that you CANNOT go back to a regular size infant without defaulting their genetic body type. So I recommend making a CAS backup just for the infant!

STEP 2: Get you some poses that work with this preset! (I have a launch day list at the bottom of this post!!)

-Resized toddler poses WILL NOT work with this preset.

-Regular sized Infant poses will work with the preset, but it may require T.O.O.L to fix the positioning.

STEP 3: Pose as normal!! If you're having trouble with positioning, see the known issues section of this post!

POSEMAKER'S GUIDE

To make poses using this preset, you must use the special rig provided in the download section of this post! It's exactly like posing with resized toddlers.

-You must NEVER use the reset rig button. That defaults the rig to regular infant size. To undo changes please use alt + R and alt + G

KNOWN ISSUES

Infants are notoriously glitchy and for some reason when they're small sized, they act just a little bit crazier.

I HIGHLY RECCOMEND YOU DOWNLOAD T.O.O.L TO HELP SOLVE THESE ISSUES.

-If your teleporter is throwing last exceptions, your small infants may become misaligned with their caregiver's. This is easily fixable with T.O.O.L.

-When posing on an incline, the infants WILL MOVE OUT OF PLACE. These kinds of misalignments can't be fixed with T.O.O.L. I recommend only posing on flat terrain.

-This is not an issue, but more of a suggestion. If you're posing with some kind of bed, these babes are tiny and hard to click on. I recommend downloading a camera mod such as this one to get down low under the beds.

If you have any other detrimental issues, please let me know! I'm happy to help troubleshoot! You can reach out on here, but I respond faster on my instagram!

Free poses you can use right now!!

Thank you SOOO much to my amazing friends @truecolorssims and @herecirmsims for making 100% free poses to release alongside this launch!! Ya'll are INCREDIBLE and I couldn't have done this without you!!!

Cold Welcome by Me -Birth poses with complications

Newborn Singles by Me

It's Your Dad by Me - NICU visit poses

Safe in My Arms by Me -Sim being handed a baby and cuddle sesh.

It's So Hard by Me - Sim crying by a crib and being handed a baby

Complete by Me - Polyamorous throuple with baby

Isn't Mommy Awesome? By Me - Breastfeeding/Bottlefeeding with toddler and both parents.

Hold This by @herecirmsims - Couple and trio poses handing off a baby!!

Emotions With A Newborn by @herecirmsims - like the title suggests!!

Teeny Tiny by @truecolorssims - Family portrait poses with newborn!!

There was also supposed to be a preemie size variant of this preset but for some reason I couldn't get it to work!! Maybe one day when I have more time to troubleshoot I can release that, but for now, I didn't want to put this off any longer!

TERMS OF USE:

I put a LOT of hours into this preset and all the poses to go along with it and I'm releasing them COMPLETELY FREE So I feel a slightly stricter TOS is warranted.

-Do not reupload

-No poses made with this preset are allowed to be perma paywalled PERIOD. Early access is allowed if it is released for free in a timely manner (2-3 weeks)

-Do not include the preset in your post. Please link back to this post!

IF THESE TOUs ARE VIOLATED I WILL BLOCK YOU ON ALL PLATFORMS

If you use it, please tag me on here or on Instagram @electric.whims Not a requirement, but I do want to see!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

DOWNLOAD: SIMFILESHARE| PATREON

[jujurose222]

Don’t date until you’re ready that’s probably just the best bet…. Also if you truly love someone, you’ll let them be happy at their best. If you’re salty a man doesn’t let you in his life at his best, it’s because you aren’t at your best.

But anyway, I got something to say after reading that.

Stop trying to change people. Stop trying to be a SAVIOR. MANY OF US HAVE SAVIOR COMPLEXES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD REALIZE THIS.

You meet people exactly where they are at. When someone is at their lowest, THEY ARE MEANT TO BE ALONE. It’s like the hardest truth of life we all have to face, and once you can handle it, then you can share independence with someone.

WHEN YOU ARE LOW, YOU NEED TO BE ALONE. If not, you will unknowingly project everything you feel wrong with yourself on to the person you are supposed to love. They are not supposed to just bear the weight of your trauma. That’s not a lovers job.

If someone really loves you, they know that, and they are not going to sit by and enable you while you are at your lowest. Because that’s usually what’s going on. When one is at their lowest, the other isn’t at their highest, might not be their lowest, but def not their highest. This is just codependency, never is not codependency. I’ve genuinely never seen a relationship that wasn’t codependent in my life, it’s the standard.

A true independent relationship is very rare, but that’s for a reason.

You have to both be individuals. That’s all you gotta remember.

If you’re not, well then one is catering and the other is taking and taking, and vice versa. Ultimately the one who was feeling higher will get thrown into the lower, and the one who is actually at their lowest will feel higher. It’s all ass backwards.

When you have not reconciled your own differences before getting into a relationship, you are going to project all of them into said relationship. Everything between you and your partner will be contradictory, you will constantly find issues and constantly have to deal with issues.

Or you might be non confrontational, so one day it all blows up in your face. That’s what happened to my parents anyway.

Versus, if you reconcile your own differences, you have the ability to reconcile differences in every relationship you have, not solely romantic. You are able to truly accept someone, and you don’t have to beg them to change. Because you can handle them exactly as they are.

Sometimes accepting someone does require you to let them go, only because you don’t want to enable them. It would hurt them more if you sat back and enabled them. When you can reconcile your own differences you know that. And sometimes they don’t know that, and they blame you. But you are willing to take the blame, because you are so secure that you can handle it.

Also loving someone in specifics, yeah it doesn’t guarantee a spot. But that’s the thing with loving, it’s all a risk. I place higher bets on releasing and praying, versus staying and enabling. Either way I could lose, but instead of enabling I would rather keep working at my best. So I can show up as my highest for everyone.

So I can teach others how to reconcile their own differences. So they can have healthy relationships in every regard. With their friends, coworkers, bosses, etc.

I say you have to let go, sometimes you have genuine beneficial advice for these people, but unless they are willing to listen, you have to let go. They might come ask for help, they might not. My therapist told me I cannot help people unless they ask me.

Reconciling your differences allows you to let go of preconceived notions. Allows you to handle hearing things you don’t want to hear. Instead of freaking out, you can actually digest what is being said, even if it was harsh. You can actually use what was said as something beneficial to your growth.

Reconciling your differences takes you out of the victim mindset. It takes you out of relationships that enable this behavior as well.

THIS

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: This Can’t Be Happening

Masterlist: here

CW: language, Harry is a bit of a dick

A/N: Harry is still a bit of an asshole but he is trying his best😂

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1

Summary: Avoiding you just got hell of a lot harder for Harry 📦✨

Harry is screwed. If he thought avoiding you while moving you into your new apartment was going to be hard then what he has to deal with now is damn near impossible, because as his luck would have it your new apartment is in the same complex as the one he just moved into not even two weeks ago. So his plan of never having to see you again after he places the last box on your new kitchen counter quickly goes down the drain because while the complex is big it’s not big enough for him to never have to risk bumping into on the elevator or the mail room that’s on the first floor.

Of course Niall is oblivious to Harry’s struggle as he stands in your new living room surrounded by boxes, having what Harry can only describe as the longest and most pointless conversation ever because all Harry wants to do is leave and go down two flights of stairs to his own apartment. As far as Harry is concerned they’ve done their job and he should be free to leave but he knows he can’t, Niall will have his ass on a silver platter if he so much as takes a step towards the front door.

“So you’ve got a couch and all that comin’ tomorrow?” Niall asks making you just nod as you stand in the kitchen that opens up to the living room.

“Yeah I have a couch and a coffee table I just need to uhm borrow my friend’s truck and go get it.” You answer as your eyes briefly dart to the box that has a fragile sticker that is upside down meaning the whole box is upside down. Harry instantly feels his hands get sweaty because he knows that’s the box he dropped, he can see you looking at it from where he’s leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna load it and move it all by yourself?” Niall questions with a raised brow and you just shrug and of course just as you look over at Harry he decides to roll his eyes making you quickly look away. But he wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, he was rolling them at the way Niall is doing everything but ending this job like he’s supposed to be considering your three hours ended fifteen minutes ago.

“I was going to ask-”

“We’ll do it for you.” Harry feels his eyes nearly pop out of his skull as Niall so casually offers the two of them to move your new couch and other furniture for you. “Free of charge of course because I have a truck we can use and Harry doesn’t have shit else to do tomorrow right H?” Niall asks just to confirm as he turns to look at Harry who is doing everything in his power not to freak out on the blonde Irish dude he sometimes calls his bestfriend.

“Tomorrow? That’s my day off.” Harry states making sure his annoyance is evident in his tone, but of course Niall ignores it and just rolls his eyes.

“Exactly so you don’t have shit to do.” Harry feels his hands ball up into fists at his side as Niall turns to look back at you with a smile. “What time works best?” You open your mouth as if you’re going to say something but then close it as you look over at Harry who is glaring at the back of Niall’s head with his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in what you can only assume is in anger.

“Thank you for the offer but it’s okay I’ll figure it out on my own.” Your voice is soft and the smile you give Niall is sweet and it makes the weird fluttery feeling start up in Harry’s chest.

“For fuck sake just tell us what time to be here.” The look of shock on your face is only there for a moment before you compose yourself and Harry honestly can’t tell who is more embarrassed in this very moment, you or him. He didn’t mean to sound so rude and annoyed because he’s not even annoyed with you, he’s annoyed at the man standing in front of you but naturally Harry can’t seem to get himself under control while you’re around so it came out harsher than he intended.

“Does eleven work for you love?” You just nod instead of saying anything and Harry knows it’s because you don’t want to say anything that might set him off and he wants to hit himself because he really doesn’t want you to be worried about upsetting him when all he’s done today is upset you. “Perfect we’ll see you then. Just text me if you need to change the time or the day okay?” Harry takes a few steps towards your front door as Niall walks over to you and gives your shoulder a friendly pat making you smile as you look up at him.

“Thanks.” Niall just returns your smile and gives you a little nod before he turns and heads for your door that Harry is standing in front of. “See you tomorrow.” With that Harry quickly opens the door and steps into the hallway, making his way towards the elevators while Niall quickly follows behind him.

“Harry I swear m’gonna proper kick your ass if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on with you.” Niall’s voice is harsh as he stands next to him while waiting for the elevator. “You’re never that big of an asshole to people you don’t even know and what’s with the faces?”

“What faces?”

“Your face it’s all-all scrunched up like you just got a whiff of something foul.” Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face, if only Niall knew the truth. That Harry makes that face because he’s getting hit with a scent he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of, one he would happily be wrapped up tightly in for the rest of his life because it’s just so you, the smell of flowers and sunshine.

“There’s just something about her that’s throwing me off that’s all.” Harry tries to explain without sounding crazy, but Niall doesn’t buy it for a second because next thing Harry feels is a hand giving him a hard smack upside the head.

“Throwing you off? Just admit you fancy her and get on with it.” Before Harry can even deny the outrageous claim the elevator doors open and Niall walks in and pushes the parking lot button letting the doors close as Harry stands there with a look of annoyed shock on his face.

“Fuckin’ prick.” Harry mumbles to himself as he turns on his heels and heads for the door that leads to the stairs so he can meet Niall down by the truck.

“Oh shoot.” Harry freezes as your voice floats into his ears just as his hand grabs the doorknob to the entrance of the stairwell. You look like you ran to the elevators from your apartment because your cheeks are a little flushed and your hair is falling from the bun you put it up in halfway through the move. “I’ll just take-” your voice gets caught in your throat as you turn and see Harry standing at the door to the stairs.

“That’s mine.” He looks down at the hat in your hands with a quirked brow, not remembering when exactly he took it off.

“Yes I was uh bringing it down to you it-it was on my bed.”

“You could’ve just waited till tomorrow to give it to me.”

“Oh you’re coming tomorrow?”

“Well yeah? Niall can’t move a couch by himself now can he?” Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so mad at himself than he is in this moment as you just nod and hold the hat out for him to take, your eyes looking down at the floor for a second before looking back up at him.

“Right. But I just figured you wouldn’t want to spend your day off helping me so I thought he’d find someone else instead.” You flinch at the way Harry practically snatches the hat from you before he places it on his head backwards just like he had it when you first saw him outside your door.

“Yeah well he doesn’t have anyone else to ask. So I’m stuck doing it.” He snaps and in this moment Harry truly thinks he’s possessed because next thing he knows he’s opening the door to the stairs and walking through it letting it slam closed just a few inches away from where you’re standing as he starts making his way down to the parking lot.

“Everything will be fine. I just need a shower and some sleep.” He tells himself as he does his best not to think about the look on your face as the door closed or the fact he already misses the way your apartment smells.

Everything is very far from fine for Harry the next day, having forgotten to set an alarm he finds himself cracking his eyes open at ten till eleven. So naturally he is scrambling to get out of bed and dressed with no time to even make himself some coffee before he is opening his front door and sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans so he can meet Niall in the parking lot. Normally Harry is very observant, he rarely ever finds himself running into things or people but in this moment as he’s stepping out of the elevator he is still half asleep and the lack of caffeine is kicking him right in the ass so it’s not shocking that he crashes into someone just as they are entering the complex from the parking lot.

“What the-” Harry thinks he must be dreaming or maybe he’s stuck in a nightmare because when he looks down to check what or who he just collided with he’s met with a bouquet of flowers on the ground and your big eyes staring at him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking and-and I didn’t mean to run into you.” Now Harry isn’t a genius but he is smart enough to know that you aren’t the one who should be apologizing right now, he’s the one who barged out of the elevator without looking up to see if anyone was getting on.

But like the asshole you think he is, he just stands there not knowing what to say of how to process the fact he just rammed into you making you drop your flowers on the floor. He watches you bend down and try to pick up the bent stems and gather them into your hands, he sees the way your mouth droops into a sad frown when you pick up a few petals that fell off some of the flowers. Harry knows he should help you, tell you it wasn’t your fault and that he was in a rush and not paying attention but before he can even try to do that the door to the parking lot swings open and in walks none other than Niall who has an annoyed scowl on his face as soon as he sees Harry who is still just standing there.

“Harry what the hell? Been waitin’-what happened? You okay love?” You just stand up with the broken flowers in your hands and give Niall a small smile, one that Harry can tell isn’t genuine.

“I’m fine just clumsy that’s all.” Harry rolls his eyes at your cover story annoyed you didn’t just tell Niall the truth, that Harry ran into you and made you drop something because that’s all that he can seem to do when he’s around you, be an asshole who breaks your things.

“Harry are you just gonna stand there like a useless bag of dicks or you gonna move the fuck outta the way so she can get in the lift?” Niall’s harsh tone and rude words come as a shock to you but Harry is used to this kind of treatment when Niall has really reached the end of his patients with him. Harry just moves to the side allowing you to get into the elevator, you shoot him a soft smile that he has to ignore or he’ll get distracted by the way it makes his insides feel all warm and fuzzy so he just looks at Niall and takes a step towards the door that leads to the parking lot.

“I need coffee.” Niall rolls his eyes at Harry’s statement as he turns and follows Harry out into the parking lot while you press the button for your floor. The doors close but not before Harry quickly looks over his shoulder and catches your eyes and he tries, he really does try to give you a smile but Niall’s hand on his shoulder giving him a shove makes it turn into a bit of a scowl making you look away just as you disappear behind the metal doors.

“How the hell are we going to get her shit if she’s not with us?” Harry asks as he gets into the passenger seat of Niall’s small pickup truck.

“She texted me the address of the place and what all we are picking up for her. Didn’t see the point in makin her come with since it’s just a couch and a coffee table.” Niall’s answer makes sense, but it doesn’t sit well with Harry and he knows it’s because he doesn’t like the fact you and Niall have been texting like you’re good friends with each other while he can’t even seem to simply smile at you like a normal person.

“Well I need coffee before I can even think about moving a couch or a-”

“Yeah yeah you’ll get your damn coffee quit your whining.”

Harry just lets out a huff as he crosses his arms over his chest while Niall heads off in the direction of wherever it is you’re getting your living room furniture from. He takes this time to try to figure out why exactly you make him turn into the worst version of himself, he’s never acted like this around someone before and it really is starting to bother him. Harry hates the idea of you sitting at home thinking of all the ways he’s been rude to you, when in reality all he’s wanted to do is be nice and maybe find reasons to be around you all the time so he can get his fill of what’s becoming his favorite smell.

You try to busy yourself as you wait for Niall and Harry to show up with your couch and coffee table, deciding that you should take this opportunity to start unpacking your kitchen. Starting with the boxes on the counter you begin to put away your various glasses and cups, moving them around a few times until you finally find the perfect cabinet for them. When you get to the box that has the upside down fragile label you let out a sigh as you open it up just to find your plates and a few bowls broken, even though you took extra care and wrapped them in bubble wrap it wasn’t enough to help them when the box got dropped and somehow placed upside down.

“It was an accident.” You mumble to yourself so you don’t go feeling upset at Harry, even though you’re sure he wouldn’t really care if you were upset with him or not seeing as he doesn’t seem to like you very much. You pick up one of the broken plates and put it on the counter so you can see if anything managed to survive in one piece when you hear voices coming from behind your front door.

“Are you even lifting?”

“What? Yes I’m lifting you wank now just be a doll and get the door will ya?” You laugh as Niall’s loud voice makes its way through the door, you quickly walk over and unlock the front door allowing you to open it just as Harry was reaching for it.

“Shit.” Is all you hear before Harry practically falls into your apartment making Niall drop his side of the couch when he sees Harry go down and land flat on his bottom while the couch slips out of his hold.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Oh don’t worry about him he’s fine.” Harry shoots Niall a glare as he stands up so he can bend down and grab his side of the couch. “Doin a bit of unpacking huh? That’s always the worst part of moving.” Niall says with a smile as he lifts his side of the couch while Harry begins to walk backwards through your door, you just smile and nod as you move out of their way so they can place the couch in the living room.

“Yeah I thought it would be smart to start with-”

“What’s all this?” Harry feels his cheeks get hot as Niall walks over to your counter and points at the broken plate as he takes a look inside the box that’s full of broken dish ware.

“Uh I accidentally dropped it.” Harry hates how effortlessly you keep covering for him, how you don’t even bat an eyelash or miss a beat as you take responsibility for whatever messed up thing Harry’s done. “But it’s fine it’s just a few plates.” You explain as Niall turns to look at you with a hand on his hip.

“She didn’t-”

“Would either of you like a donut?” You ask just as Harry was about to tell Niall the truth about the box, you look from Niall over to Harry who just quirks an eyebrow at you. “I uhm got them this morning while I was out getting a few things.” Niall takes a moment to look at the way you and Harry are staring at each other before he shakes his head.

“That’s real nice of you love but I’m good.” He says politely declining your offer, you look away from Harry and smile as you head back into your kitchen.

“Uh Harry? Would you-you like one?” You hate how nervous you sound as you hold the box out, you know he’s just going to say no or possibly not say anything at all and just head out your front door to go grab your coffee table. So when he just stares at you and gives you the smallest nod before he takes a few steps towards you all you can do is stare at him in shock.

“Thanks.” He mumbles making you smile and feel your cheeks go a bit pink as he reaches a hand out and grabs one from the box. You feel silly for letting one simple word make you feel all smiley and giddy but you can’t help it since it’s the nicest thing he’s said to you since meeting him yesterday morning.

“Right well we have one last thing to grab and then we will be outta your hair.” Niall’s voice snaps Harry out of his trance as he swallows thickly and turns to head towards your front door, donut in hand. You just nod and close the box and turn to place it back on the counter so you can get back to unpacking.

“Oh you’ve got it so fucking bad mate.” Niall teases once the two of them are down the hallway near the elevators.

“I do not.” Harry snaps before he takes a bite out of his donut and if he was alone he would’ve let out a sigh at how good it tastes.

“Harry I watched your eyes practically turn into hearts when she asked if you wanted a donut so don’t try to lie to me.” Niall watches with amusement as Harry just rolls his eyes as he finishes off his donut, in record time because he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so good before.

“You’re so dramatic you didn’t see shit.” Is all Harry can say as the two men enter the elevator, and Harry has to remind himself that Niall doesn’t know he’s the reason your plates and flowers are ruined. Because if he did then Niall wouldn’t be convinced he has feelings for you, he would be kicking his ass for being such an asshole towards you.

“Whatever you say lover boy.” Niall wiggles his eyebrows when Harry looks over to send him a glare and it’s in this moment that Harry begins to wonder if maybe, just maybe Niall could be right. What if he does have some kind of infatuation with you and that’s why he’s acting the way that he is, but then Harry begins to think of all the things he’s said and done to you that would make you want nothing to do with him and he feels as if his heart is dropping to his stomach as he lets out a sigh.

“She’s way too nice for me.” Harry mumbles mostly to himself just as the doors open and Niall leads the way to the parking lot having no clue the internal struggle his bestfriend is having over the thought of the girl who lives two floors above him not liking him because of all the horrible things he’s done in the short time he’s known her.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay not that he needs it but what a ego boost it would be if sebastian stumbled upon mc and ominis talking about the guy she likes and she just like he's so out of my league listing positive traits (cue sebastian getting very jealous) Only for ominis to be like just tell sebastian then I don't have to hear you wine about it all the timee

Eavesdropping | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you love it!!! :")

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Love Confessions, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

The stone door of the Undercroft groaned softly as Sebastian pushed it open, stepping carefully inside. He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. He had snuck out after curfew, hoping to release some pent-up frustration with a few dueling spells.

He was halfway down the stairs when he froze. Voices—two of them—floated up from below.

Sebastian frowned, his grip tightening on the banister. He recognized them instantly. You and Ominis.

What were you doing here so late? He edged closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“I just don’t see the point,” your voice echoed softly. “It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the banister. His brow furrowed. What wasn’t going to happen?

“It won’t if you keep dragging your feet,” Ominis replied, his tone dry as ever.

“It’s not that simple,” you shot back warily.

Sebastian tilted his head, curiosity sparking to life alongside a strange, uneasy feeling in his chest. You sounded frustrated—almost pained. What could possibly have you so worked up?

“It is that simple. You’ve been in love with him for years,” Ominis said, his tone cutting. “Merlin, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve had this conversation. Either do something about it, or stop talking about it.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped. In love? You’d never mentioned anyone. Not once.

“There's nothing I can do, Ominis,” you said, exasperated. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully. Who was this mysterious he? Why hadn’t you told him about this before? You usually told him everything.

“And how would you know?” Ominis challenged.

“Because I know him,” you replied firmly. “We’re best friends!”

Sebastian’s chest tightened, a painful mix of jealousy and confusion swirling inside him. Best friends? You were his best friend. Who could possibly come before him in your life?

“Right,” Ominis said sarcastically. “Because you’re so unremarkable.”

“Ominis,” you groaned, “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “Half the school is in love with you, and you’re acting like you’re some invisible wallflower.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Ominis wasn’t wrong. People were drawn to you—how could they not be? But you’d never seemed to notice, much less care. And now you were sitting here, pouring your heart out about someone who clearly wasn’t him.

You sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and tinged with a hint of defeat. “It doesn’t matter what the rest of the school thinks when he’s completely out of my league, Ominis. With his stupidly handsome face and that ridiculous smile that makes it impossible to think straight…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Merlin, he’s just… he’s everything. Funny, clever, brave, loyal—he could have anyone he wanted.”

For a moment, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under Sebastian’s feet. How could you possibly think that? How could you believe, even for a second, that you weren’t good enough for whoever this bloke was? And the worst part—the part that made his chest ache—was that he couldn’t step in. He couldn’t tell you how wrong you were because he wasn’t supposed to be listening this in the first place.

“And?” Ominis prompted.

“And what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“You’re always going on about how wonderful he is, which, I’ll admit, I struggle to agree with,” Ominis said with a dry chuckle. “But you never actually tell me how he makes you feel. Isn’t that the important part? Does it matter how... how handsome and funny he is if he doesn't make you feel something special?”

You hesitated, your voice soft and uncertain when you finally spoke. “He… I don’t know. He makes me feel safe, Ominis. Like no matter what’s going on, as long as he’s there, I’ll be okay. And he makes me feel seen. Really seen. Like I don’t have to be the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ or ‘the girl with ancient magic.’ I don’t have to be anything except… me. He knows me in a way nobody else does. And when I’m with him, it’s like—for once—I don’t have to prove anything.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more painful. Because that’s how he felt about you. You were his safe place, the one person who saw him as more than the brash, reckless troublemaker everyone else thought he was.

And now… now he was realizing that someone else held that place for you.

Ominis huffed a laugh, breaking the silence that followed your confession. “You know, it’s almost tragic.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What’s tragic?”

“That it’s him you’ve fallen for,” Ominis said, his voice laced with dry amusement. “Of all the people in Hogwarts—all the people who would gladly worship the ground you walk on—you’ve managed to lose your head over the most chaotic, reckless, insufferable person I know.”

Your jaw dropped, and a laugh bubbled out of you despite your embarrassment. “Ominis!”

“I’m serious,” he said, smirking. “You could have anyone. Anyone. And yet you’ve decided to pine after someone who probably doesn’t even realize you feel this way because he’s too busy rushing headlong into whatever absurd plan pops into his head.”

You groaned again, shaking your head. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Well, I do,” he replied, grinning. “Because clearly, he’s too thick to notice, and you’re too stubborn to tell him. I’m the one stuck in the middle of this ridiculous mess, forced to play mediator while you both dance around each other like idiots.”

Sebastian felt like his chest was going to collapse. The way Ominis spoke so casually about this guy—teasing, almost affectionate—was like a knife twisting deeper into his gut. Whoever you were in love with wasn’t just close to you. They were close to Ominis, too.

Who the hell is it?

Sebastian's mind raced through the possibilities, his thoughts a chaotic mess of jealousy and dread. It had to be someone you spent a lot of time with, someone you trusted enough to feel safe around, someone who was close enough to Ominis that he could make jokes about their recklessness.

And then it clicked.

Garreth Weasley.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped. Of course it was Garreth. It made perfect sense.

Garreth was charming, clever, and funny. He had that easygoing, confident smile that always seemed to draw people in. He was loyal, too—always ready to back up his friends, even if it meant landing himself in trouble. And he had that playful, carefree energy that made everyone want to be around him.

Sebastian felt sick.

Of course she loves Garreth. Why wouldn’t she?

He thought back to all the times he’d seen the two of you together—laughing in the Great Hall, chatting during potions class, exchanging those little looks that he’d tried to tell himself didn’t mean anything.

But they did mean something, didn’t they?

And then there was Ominis. Ominis liked Garreth well enough, didn’t he? He put up with Garreth’s antics, even joined in on the occasional joke. If you were in love with Garreth, it explained why Ominis was teasing you so mercilessly.

It all fit together too perfectly.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. He wanted to hate Garreth—wanted to hate him for being everything Sebastian wasn’t, for being the kind of person you could fall for so easily.

But he couldn’t hate Garreth. Not really. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that he was so damn likable. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that Sebastian had been too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.

He pressed his back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes and letting out a slow, shaky breath.

I’ve lost her, he thought bitterly. I never even had her, and I’ve already lost her.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Ominis,” you continued on, your voice quieter now, tinged with frustration and something far more raw. “If I could stop loving him, don’t you think I would have by now? Believe me, I’ve tried,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve told myself it’s just a stupid crush, that it doesn’t matter, but it does. And no matter what I do, I can’t… I can’t make it go away.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Ominis asked, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. “What are you so afraid of?”

You groaned, the sound laden with frustration. “Because it doesn’t matter! He doesn’t like me back, Ominis. I’d destroy our friendship for nothing!”

Sebastian’s heart clenched painfully, the bitter sting of your self-doubt twisting something deep inside him. How could you think so little of yourself? How could you not see what he saw when he looked at you?

Ominis let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think he deserves you,” he muttered. “Merlin knows he’s well aware he doesn’t deserve you. But you can’t decide his feelings for him. That’s not how it works.”

You scoffed. “Your point?”

“I’m just saying,” Ominis replied, his tone exasperated, “that you’re doing both of you a disservice. It’s… it’s getting to the point where something has to give. Either you tell him how you feel, or—”

“Or what?” you interrupted, glaring at him.

“Or I will,” Ominis said firmly, his expression unyielding.

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Ominis said, his smirk returning. “I’m tired of watching you both suffer in silence. Merlin knows Sebastian’s too dense to work it out on his own. Maybe hearing it outright will knock some sense into him.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

It’s me.

The thought hit Sebastian like a stunning spell, freezing him in place as the pieces of the conversation finally fell into place. Every word, every hint, every exasperated sigh from Ominis—it all pointed to the same answer, one that he’d been too blind, too self-critical, to see.

You were talking about him.

You were in love with him.

His breath hitched, and his grip on the banister tightened as his heart pounded so loudly he was certain you and Ominis would hear it. The jealousy, the doubt, the sharp ache in his chest—all of it melted away, replaced by a dizzying mix of disbelief, relief, and something far brighter: hope. Because you loved him.

“I mean it,” Ominis was saying now, his tone both firm and teasing. “If you won’t tell him, I will. Frankly, I’m tired of sitting through these endless heart-to-hearts when the solution is so obvious.”

You groaned, your frustration evident. “Ominis, I swear—”

“Do it, or I’ll make it the most public confession Hogwarts has ever seen,” Ominis threatened, though the smirk on his face made it clear he was only half-serious.

Sebastian couldn’t stay silent any longer. His feet moved before his mind caught up, carrying him down the remaining steps until he was standing in the open, his gaze fixed on you.

“Ominis won’t have to say a word,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside him.

You and Ominis both turned toward him, your expression contorting into shock while Ominis grinned.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, your eyes wide.

Ominis crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “Ah, there you are."

Sebastian ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Everything you just said… is it true?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Your gaze flickered to Ominis, as if silently cursing him, before returning to Sebastian. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he admitted, taking a step closer.

You flushed, your hands twisting nervously at your sides. “Sebastian, I—”

“Just tell me,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, your breath hitching, before finally nodding. “Yes."

For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at you, his heart so full he thought it might burst. And then, without thinking, he reached for your hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re in love with me?”

Your cheeks burned, but you held his gaze, your voice trembling as you said, “I am."

“I love you, too,” he said simply, the words spilling from his lips like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember."

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. “You… you do?”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I do. More than anything.”

Ominis cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Well, now that that’s settled, perhaps you two can finally stop making my life so unbearably dramatic.”

Sebastian shot him a look, but there was no real anger behind it. For once, he was too happy, too relieved to care about Ominis’ meddling.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything left unsaid finally lifted. And then, with a soft, almost hesitant smile, Sebastian tilted his head and closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was certain.

When the kiss broke, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, his smile soft but unshakably certain. “You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. And as you laughed, the sound light and filled with a joy you hadn’t felt in years, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[i-dared-myself]

Uncomfortable

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: hello, ash! would it be good if i request something, pls? i was thinking of a 9th member au with skz, could you maybe write a compilation of scenarios in which the reader is made uncomfortable and how the guys help her through it? idk if you'll do this, i hope it's not too much!

You love your job, that much you were certain of. You love your fans, as well. You work so hard in every dance and every song.

So when you step out on stage your heart swells in pride to see the thousands of Stays. Knowing that your group went from nothing to this is incredible.

And they’re all here to see you.

Well- not just you. The other members are just as, if not more, important than you. 

But at any given moment, thousands of eyes could be on you.

You had done many concerts before this. You had preformed more times than you could count. It had never bothered you before, and yet here you were.

You stand there in your concert attire, makeup and hair done. You look good and you know it, but what if people online didn’t think so? What if you were being recorded right now because there was a hair out of place?

“Hey.” Felix ducks down, using his body to cover the two of you from the crowd. “What’s going on?”

You force a smile, gripping at your shirt. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Chan says something into a microphone, and the crowd roars. You make a move to join the others, but Felix’s hand wraps around your wrist gently. He tugs you back to him and looks you in the eyes.

“You look good,” he says simply. He smiles and his freckles scrunch up in the Felix-way that makes you want to grin as well. “We all know that.”

Your voice seems to catch in your throat as you try to respond. You cough. “But… What if I do something wrong?”

“You’re won’t, first of all,” he firmly says. “And secondly, we mess up all the time. Stay still loves us. It makes us human and that’s what they love about us.”

You nod slowly and take a deep breath. “Yeah. The best memes are made when we… Yeah.”

Felix releases you. “Ready?”

You trail after him to the group, smiling as brightly as you can. After a minute it turns into a genuine expression, and you know you love your job.

The concert goes by with very minimal mistakes. You have as much fun as you hope the fans do, and the guys all collapse into a pile next to you when you’re done.

“Gimme,” Hyunjin rasps to Jeongin. The younger man gets the message and hands him his water bottle.

“Good job, everyone,” Chan praises. He stretches out his joints and groans. 

“Getting too old for this?” Seungmin arches an eyebrow teasingly.

Chan scowls and levels a finger at him. “Watch your mouth.”

You’re covered in sweat and feel sticky. You check the time and notice it’s very late. “I want to go shower at the dorms. Are we leaving soon?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chan does a head count for some reason before guiding the group to the van. You clamber inside and pull your phone out, wanting to see what everyone thought of the concert.

“You did great,” Minho mutters quietly. His voice is low enough that only you can hear it. 

His words make your stomach tumble. You don’t get told often that you did good. Everything always what you could’ve done better. What someone else could have done better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You really aren’t in the mood for recording, but you sit patiently as your makeup is applied and your hair is manipulated. You’re given a set of clothes and once you put it on, you exit the changing room and rejoin the others.

“Uh,” Changbin begins, averting his eyes, “that’s an interesting outfit.”

You’re confused, but look down at yourself for the first time after rushing through getting dressed. It’s definitely the most revealing thing you’ve worn for recordings, and you’re not sure if you feel comfortable with that. 

You’re not one to judge those for what you wear, but this is different. This is your job. This is where you’re supposed to be professional, and you have to wear… this.

It has what can only be described as a boob window. You tug it up uncomfortably, before down again when some of your stomach is shown.

The miniskirt is just as bad, to a level where you want to hide. You’re used to having to wear clothing similar to this, but never this bad.

Changbin adjusts his T-shirt. “Uh… Are you good with that?”

You nod.

The stylists know what they’re doing, right?

It would be rude to question them, right?

You walk to Hyunjin’s side and stand in place next to him. The set of instructions for the shoot are given, and all you can focus on is your outfit.

“That’s interesting,” Hyunjin says, unable to hide his disdain. His upper lip curls before he smoothes out his expression. “That’s… Wow.”

“I know.” You swallow and fiddle with the fabric again. “Is it that bad?”

Hyunjin nods. “Yes. Very.”

You curl into yourself, shoulders slumping. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“The colour compliments your eyes,” he mutters once he catches the look on your face. Hyunjin hooks an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “I think you look good.”

“But she’s not comfortable,” Seungmin bluntly says. He gives Hyunjin a dirty look. “Obviously.”

“No! I’m fine!” You wave your hands in a desperate attempt to gather their attention before they went rampaging to the stylists. “They worked hard!”

“Yeah, but do you want people to see you in that?” Seungmin questions. When you falter over a response, he sighs. “Boundaries are important, even at work.”

Hyunjin hums. “He’s right. And that shirt is ugly anyways.”

Jisung approaches, scowling slightly. “Aren’t we starting soon? Where are the others?”

“In a little bit. They’re still finishing preparations.” Jeongin leans down to touch his toes. 

“Hey.” Seungmin pokes Jisung. “Give her your shirt.”

Jisung flinches back, clutching at his torso. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t like hers.” Hyunjin pinches the material of Jisung’s clothing. “Too much skin.”

“I’m not wearing anything under this shirt.” Jisung winces and rolls out his shoulders. “Do we…”

Jeongin scoffs. “Wow. You’re not going to give her your shirt? You just want to stare at boobs, don’t you? You’re so misogynistic.”

“That’s not what that means.” You press a hand to your forehead. “Jeongin-“

“Fine then!” Jisung huffs. He strips his shirt off and flings it at you, putting his hands on his hips defiantly. “Happy? I love women!”

The staff all stare at him in confusion, while a couple of them shield their eyes with their hands.

“Jisung-“ You hold out his clothes, but Seungmin blocks you.

“Put it on!” Seungmin orders.

“But what about me?” Jisung pouts. “I can’t just be half-naked for the recording.”

“I mean, you could…” Hyunjin trails off. “Stay would love it.”

You step into a changing room, returning with Jisung’s shirt on. You hand him yours, which he struggles to put on. He keeps sticking his arms through the boob window, and Jeongin has to help him dress.

“It’s horrifying,” Hyunjin announces once Jisung is finished. 

“I think you look good,” Felix vaguely says as he walks past. He’s staring at his phone.

“Which one of us?” Jisung puffs out his chest in what’s clearly an attempt to make you smile.

It works.

Felix glances up, eyes widening. “Are you allowed to wear that?”

“They put her in it, so it’s their fault.” Hyunjin shrugs and runs his tongue over his front teeth. “What about the miniskirt?”

“I’m not wearing that!” Jisung hisses. “This is bad enough!”

“Felix!” Hyunjin sings, chasing after the other man. Felix looks back over his shoulder before sprinting away.

So when Chan returns to the group, Changbin following closely behind, he taps his chin.

“The stylists are getting very… unique,” he carefully says. Chan’s eyes flick over Jisung in your shirt, and Felix, who had been wrestled into the miniskirt. 

You frown, wearing Felix’s baggy pants. “Sorry. I can- I can put it back on if you want.”

Chan waves a hand, expression softening. “It’s fine. The camera we needed for the water scene broke anyway. We’re going home.”

Felix grumbles to Changbin about the stupid skirt as they trudge off to the van. Chan catches your arm before you can leave with them.

“And I’ll tell the staff that you aren’t okay with those clothes for filming,” he assures you softly. “Tell us if you’re ever uncomfortable with something, okay?”

“I will,” you promise him.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long days were normal. Many long days with a lack of sleep were not. Chan usually tried to give everyone enough rest and time to themselves, but the last couple of days had been stressful.

So you find yourself with nine hours of sleep in the last three days. You have no idea how you’re even functioning, let alone cheery enough for a fan meet.

You’re seated across from a girl with curly brown hair. Her gaze keeps darting from your face, down to her lap nervously.

As you uncap your pen, you smile as warmly as you can. Considering the circumstances, that is. The lack of sleep and pure exhaustion were really getting to you.

“I- I saw the clips of your latest concert,” she nervously says. “I- You’re very good.”

“Thank you.” You scribble your signature out on what she wanted before sliding it across the table. “Anything else to sign?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I- You and Felix are close.”

Your tired brain couldn’t tell where she was going with this. So you hum. “Yeah. We are.”

She seems giddy at that. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. We all are.” You look over to your right, where Changbin appears in deep discussion with a fan about… bald eagles?

“But like… Close i-in which way?” She crosses one leg over the other.

You still can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s not wise of an idol to interact with someone and have no clue what’s happening, but here you are.

“Uh, a lot,” is all you respond with. “Do you have a favourite song, or album?”

“But Felix g-grabbed your arm the other day.” Her head ducks down again as her cheeks flush. “I- I saw videos of it.”

“Oh!” Your eyebrows shoot up with the realization. “Um- Have you ever been to one of our concerts before?”

“You l-look happy together.” She ignores your question.

“So… Chk Chk Boom?” you weakly say. “It’s pretty good, right?”

She doesn’t seem to get the hint. “He smiles at y-you often.”

“Did I hear someone talking about me?” Felix teases as he bends down. He props his elbows down on the table, some of his hair falling into his face. 

“What are you doing over here?” you ask in bewilderment. Isn’t he supposed to be doing his own signings?

“I figured you could use the company.” 

Which is code for: You needed help so I’m here.

You relax into your chair, leaning back. “I appreciate it.”

“So what were we chatting about?” Felix asks, more alert than you for some reason. You blame it on the energy drinks he chugged with Jeongin.

The rest of the meeting goes by smoothly. When everyone loads into the van, Changbin makes room for you in the seat next to him.

“You okay?” he gently inquires. 

You nod and let your eyes flutter shut. “Just miss sleeping.”

Changbin chuckles lowly. “Yeah, so do I.”

“Don’t worry, everyone will get their naps,” Chan calls from the front. “Our schedule is free for the next week.”

Jisung whoops, and Hyunjin covers his ears and whines from beside him. 

“That means actually sleeping,” Chan sternly says. “Jisung, I’m talking to you. Don’t binge an entire show in a night.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “We all know he’s going to do it anyway.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Minho ominously mutters.

Everyone side-eyes him.

“What are you going to do?” you warily question him. 

Minho’s eyes glint. “That’s for me to know and for him to find out.”

Jisung clears his throat. “I think I’m going to bed early tonight. Anyone else doing the same?”

You shake your head and sigh. “No, I have a live to do.”

The others all murmur their excuses, while Minho narrows his eyes at you. You shift nervously under his gaze.

When you get off to your room, you make sure to brush out your hair. When prop your phone up and sit on your bed, tucking your legs beneath you.

You greet the fans as they come pouring in, making sure to touch on the topic on the fan meeting. You talk for a little bit about how grateful you are for everyone coming, before moving on to just chatting.

It’s always odd doing a live by yourself. There’s no engaging with someone else, and you have to either read off comments, or come up with conversation.

You’re too tired for the latter, so you go with the former.

“Aw, my hair looks nice?” You beam at your phone, reaching up to your head. “Thank you very much.”

You read over a couple more rolls of comments on the screen before settling on another one to respond to. “No, I won’t give you spoilers. Nice try, though.”

You scrunch your nose up and adjust how you’re sitting. Everyone is going on about a new meme of Jeongin falling out of his chair. Some are asking you to recreate it, while others are asking if he’s okay.

“Yes, he’s fine,” you answer breezily. “It takes more than that to hurt him. He’s tougher than he looks.”

And time goes on. Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier, but you don’t want to turn it off. The more content you give them now, the less they’ll talk about you and Felix.

If any shipping gets too popular, you have to do damage control and-

“Hello, Stay!” Minho waves with both hands as he pops into frame. He blinks a couple times as the comments scream his name before his lips curl into a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You scoot over in case he wants to sit with you.

Minho remains standing. “It’s getting late. Do you know what time it is?”

There’s a string of people talking about air fryers, now. Others are warning you to run.

You straighten. “No, sorry. Is it really that late?”

“It’s past midnight,” he scolds gently. “It’s bed time. I already have Jisung sleeping, and it’s your turn.”

“But…” You don’t know how to voice your concerns. It feels as if speaking your worries aloud will make them true.

Minho says the goodbyes to your phone before shutting the live off. He scoops your phone up and slips it into your pocket before lifting you over his shoulder.

“Minho!” you shriek as he marches out the door. “What are you doing?”

“Rumours come with the job,” he says. He bounces you once, cutting off your protests. “The amount of times I’m shipped with Jisung is immense, but we’re fine. These things happen.”

“Yeah, there’s lots of that stuff.” You go limp and let him dump you in the bathroom. As soon as you’re on your feet, he hands you your toothbrush.

“See?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be fine. And even if it does get out of hand, I’m sure Hyunjin would be glad to do something to get the attention off you.”

“You’re right,” you say around the toothbrush in your mouth. Minho waits patiently for you to spit into the sink before you’re back in his grasp.

“I don’t see why you made such a big deal about this,” you grumble as you change into pyjamas. His back is to you as you do so. “Why was Jisung so scared?”

He smirks at you, facing you again. “Wanna find out?”

You stare at him momentarily before sliding beneath your sheets. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Minho pulls the blankets up to your chin. He walks to the door, holding up your phone. “You’ll get this back in the morning after a chat with Chan about positive thinking.”

You groan and throw your head against the pillows. “You really are cruel!”

Minho laughs before flicking your lights off. He shuts the door softly.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght

[avelera]

I've been thinking about this meta and laughing actually because I want to reiterate, the foundations of Jayce's Season 1 plotline was clearly a typical morality play where he has an angel and a devil on his shoulder and he's tugged between politics and science.

To briefly sum up the meta above, what subverted this very reductive plotline was making Mel not evil (actually, not evil at all, just her own person with her own goals which are indeed mostly altruistic) and to make the motivations for Jayce 90% of the time to be helping Viktor and their work.

I think originally, the plot was supposed to be "Viktor and Science are Good" "Mel and Politics are Bad" "Jayce is Seduced by Bad Politics and Sexy Mel Away from the True Value of Brotherly Friendship and Science" with him only coming back too late to his Good Science Bro and realized his Evil Politics and Girlfriend Mistakes after Viktor has tragically decided to go full Machine Herald after Jayce's abandonment.

Now in this simplistic version, this failed morality play on Jayce's part is a Tragedy because he realizes his mistake and returns to his bro after it is Too Late and now he must use the lessons he learned to Save His Bro from Evil (that Jayce caused with his initial abandonment).

Then a bunch of other better storytelling drafts happened and we got the plot of Arcane as we saw it BUT

BUT

The thing that is absolutely cracking me up about this proposed timeline of storytelling decisions and where it got us (which I firmly believe to be true) is that it led to the absolute gayest take on Jayce & Viktor ever like, seriously, by fleshing out this story the way they did, it went from "Save the bro you tragically abandoned" to "Save the man you did EVERYTHING for because only YOU can rescue your soulmate across all timelines, all possibilities, and you must give more than you did before, you must give everything of yourself to this cause and you do so gladly, in the most romantic gesture of all time." Like...

Ok, I'm gonna say something potentially unpopular here but I don't really blame Christian Linke for seeing Jayce/Viktor as brotherly, because that's what like 99% of straight male showrunners see when they write the gayest relationship of all time and given what we know of what Jayce & Viktor looked like in the earliest drafts, it probably was more brotherly in the earliest versions that he had the most influence on before he handed it over to better writers and artists.

(I speculate the reason for male showrunners not getting how romantic the "friendship" stories they're writing are is because for many cis straight male creators, "brotherhood" as defined by "not blood relatives but more than a best friend" with another man is the closest relationship you can have, while romance is just a relationship with the best sex you'll ever have, maybe, or just the woman you're "supposed" to settle down with, whereas for women and queer writers, they tend to write the love interest as being your most important person, not a blood relative but more than a best friend, and this is where the wire gets crossed because these cis male writers don't realize they've written a catnip romance for everyone who isn't them ANYWAY I DIGRESS).

SO, this re-write of Jayce's reductive morality-play plot where Science Bro Good and Politics Girlfriend Bad to make Mel and Viktor more nuanced and complicated and not really dragging Jayce into two directions because he's doing everything for Viktor 1) makes all his motivations realign to be just about Viktor which is insanely romantic. But 2!!!

2) In the original morality play plot with Science Bro Good, Jayce returning to Viktor in S2 but it's Too Late is just tragic but it could still just be a story of betraying a friend and your own principles.

But in the revised arc, where Jayce did everything in S1 for Viktor, including overthrowing the government, but in S2 realizing that he wasn't helping Viktor in the way Viktor wanted, that he should have instead stayed in the lab to help Viktor instead of trying to save him elsewhere, and then re-writing Jayce's entire life purpose in S2 to be about saving Viktor's soul and oh, also the world I guess, goes from being "Reductive Jayce making Amends for Leaving his Science Bro for Evil Politics Girlfriend" and instead makes it, "Man who gave everything for his best friend but it wasn't enough to save him then course corrects and figures out how to give his best friend what he REALLY needs, but only does so tragically too late, and must then go on a Tragic Quest, tear himself down to shreds and build himself back up again to become a vessel of but one singular goal, which is the salvation of his Science Bro's SOUL, rescuing him from a fate of loneliness worse than death, because in all timelines, in all possibilities, only HE can rescue his Science Bro from himself oh, and also the world, I guess." And it just becomes the most insanely romantic story of all time.

And I can see how in the foundations of the old story, this would be a much more "friend-coded" story for Jayce and Viktor but because of all the nuanced writing levels that were added later, it just got 10x and then 100x more romantic until it's the most undeniably, mind-breakingly romantic story ever of literally saving one another's lives and souls over and over again across the multiverse because only you can save each other, you are doomed without one another, and yeah, if originally you just wanted to show Jayce being torn between his evil politics girlfriend and his good science bro buddy and then spending act 2 redeeming himself for his act 1 temptations then yeah, I can see how as CL or other show runners you might not have realized what you were cooking until after it came out of the oven!

I feel like so much of the silly Mel vs. Viktor discourse when it comes to Jayce would be resolved if people realized that the plot was originally conceived as a basic morality play arc with Mel as the devil on one shoulder and Viktor as the angel on the other for Jayce.

The bones of Jayce's plot in Season 1 is of a good-guy scientist who is tempted by the allure of politics and fame, with a beautiful femme fatale politician seducing him towards power on the one side and his humble 'brotherly' relationship with his scientific partner representing Jayce's 'true self' that he is drawn away from by her machinations. It's a very, very old school, reductive, male-centric plot that literally boils down to "bros before hos".

It even makes sense for S2, with Jayce overcoming his corruption arc in S1 and returning to his "bro" only for his prior sins to tragically launch Viktor's own corruption arc as the Machine Herald only after Jayce has learned his lesson.

And then the Arcane writers and Fortiche subverted this plot. Here's how:

They made all three characters multi-faceted adults with their own agency and motivations. None of them are puppets for the others or, if they are, the time one character spends controlling the choices of another becomes part of that controlling character's sins that must be atoned for (namely, Jayce resurrecting Viktor against his will, Mel manipulating Jayce against his will, Viktor trying to control everyone against their will).

For example, they made Mel complex and interesting and a good person in her own right. Yes, she still has elements of the beauty, danger, and allure of a femme fatale but by making her her own person with her own plot and motives, none of which are malicious (at most, they are self-serving until she changes her views on Hextech and how best to bring peace to Piltover).

Jayce is still torn between Mel and Viktor but he also fully has his own agency, as many are quick to point out. He is often dragged around by the manipulations of others too (Mel yes, but also Marcus, Vi, and Ambessa influence Jayce into bad decisions). Part of his arc is learning how to be true to himself and his own goals after his time spent in the Anomaly future. But, even there, you can still see the bones of the original morality play arc, where the "Good Ending" for Jayce is to go back to his lab partner "bro" and bring both of them back to being true to themselves.

Viktor isn't just helplessly standing by while Jayce ignores him. In fact, Viktor often deliberately cuts Jayce out of his experiments. He doesn't tell Jayce about the Shimmer, or the self-experimentation, or even about Sky's death until after Jayce resurrects him with the Hexcore. Viktor has agency, he has his own goals, and while he frequently chastises Jayce for abandoning their shared dream in what I believe is another hint of the bones of the original morality play plot, he also has his own flaws and his own journey to go on independent of Jayce.

Much of the silly bickering I see between Mel and Viktor fans comes down to who "deserves" Jayce, who is "erased" by not ending up with Jayce, whether or not Mel is manipulative, or if Viktor thinks about Jayce at all when he's busy pursuing his own goals, and I think all of those are absurd arguments.

Mel is manipulative, it is part of the bones of the morality play plot that has her as the antagonist, but they made her so much more than that, that I think it's an active disservice to the character they made to reduce her story down to whether or not she ends up with Jayce. I get why people get hung up on it, because I do believe it's the core of the first draft of her plot, but the richness of her character comes from moving beyond that. Indeed, in S2, the least important part of her character is her relationship to Jayce. She has her own stuff going on.

Whether or not Jayce is a victim of manipulation or whether or not he pursued power for its own sake is also showing an understanding of the basic, core plot they built the richness on top of. Jayce was seduced by Mel's manipulation and he did grasp after power, but they enriched his character by making his goals more noble and more tragic. He's always trying to fight for Viktor, for Hextech, for their shared dream, and for making Piltover a safer, better place, but how he goes about it often makes matters worse until he learns, grows, gains wisdom, and makes terrible mistakes he arguably can never make up for fully.

Jayce also isn't fully a victim of Mel's manipulation, just as she is not fully a mastermind able to control his every move. He breaks away at a certain point and makes his own (poor) decisions in ways that frighten her and make her regret her actions, until he grows enough to recognize the wisdom in her advice (though he later grows again and recognizes the original manipulation, which leads to him breaking up with her in 2.08 because Mel's sins are still there and they are the reason she and Jayce don't have hope for a future together once he realizes he can't trust her because actions have consequences in Arcane).

As for Viktor, he doesn't like Mel. In that, I think we again see the original morality play roots, with him as the angel on the shoulder disliking the devil who is seducing Jayce. But they enriched his character by having him respect Jayce's choices even as he may have privately disapproved of them, and to have his own arc to worry about with his failing health, and his other flaws like intellectual tunnel vision/naiveté, and his tendency to self-isolate in the face of his terminal illness. He has his own stuff going on.

They also subverted the morality play arc to a certain extent by having Viktor stop being the angel in S2. Indeed, the framework more or less falls away entirely and it become Jayce trying to save Viktor from himself, and from Jayce's own mistakes of not destroying the Hexcore, while Mel is busy with her own story of politics, war, and magic.

Anyway, I hope some of this makes sense. But I think if people just recognized that yes, there are elements of Mel as a bad guy in the fabric of the story, of a story where Jayce is in a balancing act between his demons and his angels, but that good writers came in and layered real people over these simplistic plots, made it so Mel's story isn't just about Jayce, Jayce's story isn't just about getting corrupted by a femme fatale, and Viktor's story isn't just about being abandoned by Jayce, and thus elevated the trope beyond its tired-out, simplistic roots, there'd be a lot less wank.

[illbegottenfaith]

sweet?!

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - I meant to make a separate post a while back but college has been kicking my ass so 😭 but 300 followers!!! insaneee ily all sooo much mwah I feel so so grateful and also a little weirded out cuz wdym 300 people... (I am SO bad at these can you tell um anyways) also this was inspired by a new girl episode!! I kind of have plans for a part 3 but im still workshopping it so idk yet but !! we'll see :)

tropes/warnings - fluff, slight angst, mattheo not understanding physics (but its not like he had a formal education in the subject so is it rlly his fault??), tw descriptions of injury

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @kandralice @clairesblouse @deenaaa

"You're still coming this afternoon, right?"

You were having lunch in the Great Hall with your best friend Ivy, hours before one of the most entertaining sporting events of the year - an underground Muggle sports day. Every year, a group of students from each house would compete in some arbitrarily chosen muggle sport, with varying levels of success. Casualties and knee-slapping memories (for those standing in the sidelines, such as yourself) were a guarantee.

You nodded. "Are you kidding? Watching the boys wack each other black and blue at some poor attempt at a muggle sport? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope it's hockey. It's got sticks, you know." You got an odd, dreamlike look in your eye. "Merlin, I hope it's hockey."

Ivy dug into her Shepherd's pie. "Good. It sounds interesting enough. Plus, Theo's new girlfriend will be there."

You nearly upset your pumpkin juice.

"Girlfriend? When did that happen?"

Something in your voice must have given your true feelings away from the way Ivy squinted at you suspiciously. You pulled a face. It seemed convincing enough.

"It's all very new," Ivy said a tad bit sternly. "They met at Davies' party a while back and, well, they fancied each other, so -"

You snorted.

"What, is he blackmailing her?"

Ivy frowned at you. "Don't snark," she rebuked. "It isn't nice. She's a regular daisy, you'll see."

Yeah. Sure. You piled some more mashed potatoes onto your plate.

"Has anyone checked her for brain damage? Look - I'm not even snarking, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing - "

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work,” Mattheo was saying as the two of you walked over the makeshift Muggle basketball court someone had fashioned out of one of the disused storerooms in the dungeons. He and the rest of the Slytherin boys were wearing matching fluorescent green mesh vests to distinguish themselves from the Gryffindor team, engaged in some deadly serious discussion. A part of you wondered if you should mention that muggle sports weren’t generally meant to be as fatal as Quidditch.

As usual, Theo looked bored to death by the conversation. "We've been over this a hundred times. You dribble the ball -"

"Yeah, right," Mattheo vehemently said. "Like this thing's coming up if I throw it down. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, oddly reminscent of the way you did when you felt a migraine coming on.

"Remember the tennis ball, Matty? The fuzzy, green one?"

"That's different. That thing was tiny, and bouncy. This thing's heavy. It's the size of my head. No, a quaffle. No, a -"

"Then what do you think is going to happen?" Theo interrupted irritably.

“Stick to the ground, obviously. Watch - "

As seasoned as the lot of you had become in anticipating Mattheo's often highly dangerous impulses, this one came entirely out of left field. Theo yanked him back by his vest, but it was too late. He slammed the basketball down and it ricocheted back up almost immediately, punching him right in the nose. Mattheo swore loudly, and the last thing you saw before you looked away was an awful amount of blood.

Even after Enzo took him to the Hospital Wing, once Theo had sufficiently plugged his nose with obscene amounts of tissue, things did not improve for the team. About halfway through the game, an unfortunate scuffle between some of the players left Draco curled up in a ball, grimacing as he clutched his knee. Theo winced, running over to where Draco was doing a rather poor job of concealing his pain.

"Oh, that's so Teddy," Margaret gushed to you, "always stopping by to help anyone in need. Isn't he such a gentleman?"

You nodded stiffly, your slight smile frozen on your face, willing Ivy to hurry back with the snacks and drinks she had left for. After she had introduced the two of you to each other, you decided that Margaret was a perfectly pleasant person, even if she wasn't the type of friend you typically sought out. If anything, you were more confused than ever about what she was doing, hanging around a guy as bitter as Theo.

However, one thing that truly bothered you was the odd remark here or there that revealed her grossly inaccurate perceptions of him, such as this one. You thought back to just last week when you had tripped in front of him on one of the Shifting Staircases, your books tumbling down into the recesses of the stairwell. He had stopped by you, alright. Stopped to point and laugh, that is.

"Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. He's really sweet," Margaret finished.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"Sweet?"

Just in time, Ivy hurried over, gently pulling you away with some half-hearted excuse.

"O-kay, I think that's enough bonding for today."

"Sweet," you echoed weakly as you limply allowed yourself to be carted away, the appalled expression still on your face. "She thinks he's sweet." Euch.

But Ivy wasn't paying attention to you anymore. "How bad is it?" she asked, as the two of you neared the cluster around Draco.

"Bad," Ivan replied, gingerly pressing Draco's knee. "He definitely needs to see Madam Pomfrey. No way he'll be able to play any more today, and we're out of reserves, so we're a man short." He turned, motioning to the Gryffindor players scattered across the field that the game was over.

"Damn. I'll take him to the hospital wing, I've been meaning to check on Mattheo too. Meg, you'll help me, won't you?"

With a little difficulty, the three of them limped along once they had pulled Draco's arms over their shoulders. One of the Gryffindor players approached the crowd, picking up on what was happening after a glance at Draco.

"What about the game?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "We'll rematch, you nitwit."

You went back to your seat, trying to figure out what to do with Ivy's refreshments. Once it was clear that the game was over, the last of the players and the scanty audience filtered out of the room.

"What gives?"

You pulled your gaze back to the lone Slytherin player left, in a blood-spotted mesh vest. Your least favourite player. You could slap that on a T-shirt - not that you wanted to cheer for him. Merlin, no. Cheer against him, maybe. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy - which, coincidentally, happened to be him. You momentarily abandoned your musings as you returned to the real world, noticing the expectant look on his face.

"Hm?"

Theo spread him arms out and shrugged in a helpless sort of manner.

"I don't get it, L/N. What do you want from me?

You stared at him blankly. "...what are you talking about?"

He scoffed half-heartedly, like he was too upset to put any real heat behind it.

"I have this amazing new girlfriend that everyone loves." He tossed the ball away with a defeated air. "Everyone, except you."

The words stung. You stuck your chin out defiantly.

"Why do you care so much about what I think?"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?

"I just want you to be honest."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Honesty? That's what this is about?"

That's what it had always been about, you wanted to say. You sniffed nonchalantly, rearranging the pleats of your skirt.

"I don't think it's fair to Margaret that you're selling her some lie just to -"

"You think I'm lying to her?"

He kept his voice cool, almost offensively neutral. You rolled your eyes. "I know you are."

Theo was quiet after that, as if mulling over what you had said.

"So," he pressed after a moment, slowly walking towards you, forcing you to crane your head up to maintain eye contact, "you think I should be more transparent with her. That is...show her my unpleasant side."

You allowed yourself a brief smile. "Exactly."

"Be more rude to her."

"Yeah."

"Mock her."

You furrowed your brow slightly.

"Erm, sure."

"Insult her."

"I - what?"

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

In that moment, you decided you never hated Theo more than you did then, with his domineering stances, condescending sneers, and caustically sarcastic remarks. You swallowed hard, your throat almost painfully tight as you felt the traitorous prick of tears behind your eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered. But he wasn't being entirely ridiculous, was he? It was what made the whole thing all that more upsetting.

If he noticed you were teary-eyed, he didn't comment on it, as if it were disappointing. As if you were yet another disappointment in his book of unfairly high expectations. He straightened with a barely convincing air of nonchalance. If anything, he looked just as upset as you felt.

"Whatever, L/N. See you around."