#continue to post in the middle of the night when I hope no one's looking

[jooqlz]

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - one (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you've never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he's so much more than a crush, he's your soulmate. one | two | three | four

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four parts total, and i'll post each as soon as they are ready to go. happy comeback week, and i hope everyone enjoys this 💖

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, a lot of fluff and tenderness, love at first touch, shared feelings/emotions/physical sensations, anxiety/stress over what to do, reader's family isn't the best, kq is not the best company for the purposes of this fic!, light smut including - heavy makeouts/grinding, hand kink, size kink, phone sex, sexting, fingering, jacking off, dirty talk, praise, use of good girl, use of pet names like baby/jagiya/sweetheart. basically this fic is an excuse for me to write star-crossed desperate love so i would say it's the literal opposite of a slow burn lmao

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

It’s eleven in the morning when your day starts, hiding in the green room of a concert venue in Berlin, and the day feels lost already. With Eunji and Dahan ill that only leaves you and Iseul to handle makeup for all eight members and with how exhausted you are from yet another night of little sleep, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up. You’re trying to stay awake, but while the members are all out on stage learning their marks and rehearsing the improvisational moments for this tour stop, the green room is quiet and you keep nodding off. 

“Bad night?” Iseul’s voice startles you out of one of your dips into sleep and your body jerks up right. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,” 

“Here,” She pushes a bright can into your hands, an energy drink, “you need this.” 

“I need to be sedated,” You grumble, taking it from her, “the time difference is never this hard,” 

“Mm,” She shrugs, “it’s unpredictable,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.” 

The thumping music outside as they run through another track is starting to give you a migraine. You take a long sip of the drink and then leave the can on the table in front of you, choosing instead to hide your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt and let out another long sigh. 

“Girl,” Iseul nudges you, “you look like shit. Your station looks like shit.” 

“Thank you?” 

“In thirty minutes we’re going to be busier than we’ve been since that Inkigayo stage for Answer,” She points out and you grimace at the reference. Back then it really was just a skeleton staff and one of the makeup artists quit on the spot, too stressed to continue the work and walking out in the middle of doing Yeosang’s foundation. 

What a mess those old days used to be. Nostalgia sometimes makes you forget how late those nights were and just how impossibly tired you had been. This feels too reminiscent of that for sure. 

Iseul taps your shoulder to get you to lift your face as she continues, “I know you’re tired, but I can’t do this shit on my own. I need you.” 

“Okay,” You breathe, scrubbing your hands over your face to jolt yourself awake as best you can, “you’re right, I’m sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry,” She gives you a sympathetic smile, “I get it.” 

This tiredness feels different though, so deeply ingrained in your body. Something’s been keeping your adrenaline running like a long, drawn out anxiety attack and you can’t understand it. You’ve been on tour before, you’ve been on planes, you’ve had long days, and you’ve worked with this exact group for years. There’s nothing on paper that should be making you so anxious, but the threads of it are humming in the deep back of your brain even now. 

“Come on,” Iseul prompts again, pulling you to your feet, “let’s get you in gear.” 

“Right,” You take another long sip of your energy drink and pray it starts kicking in soon and that the effects won’t make you feel crazier, “let’s do this.” 

She helps you put your station together with ease and then pull yourself together. Within those precious thirty minutes of calm before the storm you’ve downed two cans of pure caffeine, assembled your station and strapped on your brush belt, and tried to make yourself some form of presentable by slicking your hair back into a smooth knot and adding a coat of lip balm. 

As always, the boys have used the ladder game to determine hair and makeup order which means those at the bottom of the list have more time to relax fresh-faced on the couches before getting poked and prodded and wrapped up like presents for thousands of screaming fans. With only you and Iseul available it’s about to be a race against the clock to get them ready. 

Their managers hustle them from the stage to the back rooms where the rest of the staff waits, and the members gather around you and Iseul and your makeshift makeup stations. 

“Alright,” Iseul says as the members quiet down, “we’re down some staff as you know,” 

They nod attentively and you trade a close lipped smile with Hongjoong. 

“We’re just going to do the best we can as quickly as we can,” She explains, looking down at their names on a slip of paper, “Wooyoung, Yeosang, Jongho, San,” she recites, “you’re with me in that order.” 

You run through the names on your slip, “Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, that leaves you with me.” 

Iseul nods as you finish your words, “Please be ready to slot in when the person in front of you is finished, and then you can go directly to wardrobe for your soundcheck outfits,” 

“We’ve got it,” Hongjoong nods, “and if there’s anything you both need,” 

“We’ll be fine,” Iseul assures him, “but it’s definitely going to be cutting it close,” 

“We should get started,” You cut in, “if you’re ready?” 

Hongjoong jumps to your chair immediately and Wooyoung steps to Iseul’s, and before you know it you’re off. 

The room is alight with activity while you both work, only you don’t have a relaxed pace and only two members to perfect. You’re used to working with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, they’ve been your assigned members for as long as you’ve worked with Ateez, but when staff shortages or timing gets tight, it can be a bit of a free for all. 

You stay focused and execute each member’s makeup like a well rehearsed dance, and you do your best to ignore the buzzing anxiety in your veins. For a little while, you handle it like a professional. 

When Yunho finally settles into your chair, about a single second after Mingi leaves it, the exhaustion careens back into you sideways. It takes you a minute to prep your tools this time, and you’re pretty sure that without the artificial pick me up of the energy drinks you’d be passing out on the spot. 

You steady your hands against the vanity in front of you and take a deep breath, and when you look up you catch Yunho’s eyes in the mirror, a tiny crease of concern between his brows. 

“You okay?” He checks. 

You give him a smile, albeit a tired one, “The jet lag is really hitting this time,” you explain, “but I’m fine,” 

He looks sympathetic immediately, “Same for me, I feel like I’m barely sleeping,” 

“That’s not good,” You tell him as you prep your stainless steel palette, “you have a long night ahead,” 

“I’ll sleep tonight,” He says, “I’m sure,” 

“After dancing for three hours I’d hope so,” You smile and pick up your first set of tools before turning towards him. 

“Do you have anything you could take?” He asks, studying your face, “A sleep aid?” 

“I usually don’t like to,” You admit, “I always feel groggy the next day,” 

“And we have another show,” He finishes for you, his lips coming together in a thin line as he thinks. 

There’s nothing really for him to do, but it’s kind of him anyway to be so concerned. They always are, this rare group of eight idols who remember staff birthdays, bring coffee on the early morning schedules, and always, always take extra time to clean up after themselves so it’s not left to anyone else. 

You take a step closer towards him and glance over his bare face and then it occurs to you, “You know what’s funny?” 

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever done your makeup before,” You smile, it’s a ridiculous thought. 

“No way,” He blinks, thinking back, “it’s been… forever, are you sure?” 

You nod, “You’re usually with Eunji,” you tell him, “and even when we’ve swapped around, I don’t think so. I think you’re the only member I’ve never done,” 

“Wow,” He laughs, eyes bright, “well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” 

“Is there anything,” You start to ask him if there’s anything he prefers, anything special about his makeup that he gets done with Eunji that he asks for, but Iseul catches you idle as she pats foundation onto San’s forehead and answers for you. 

“His skin gets dry,” She jumps in, “don’t use too much powder,” 

Yunho grins, a laugh on his lips at the directness of her words. 

“And don’t use that oil,” Iseul adds, “that primer oil you like, he’ll break out by tomorrow,” 

“Thank you, Iseul,” Yunho says, and you watch San’s face as he stifles a chuckle. 

“Noted,” You smile, and you swap out two of the products in your hands before taking up your position by his side again. 

You’ve gotten used to working with idols, to working with Ateez and with Yunho specifically, and yet when you get this close a little flutter of nerves rocks through your belly. He’s handsome, and if you’re being honest he’s just your type. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or this weird feeling in your chest that you’ve been dealing with all week, but for the first time in a long time you think about what it would be like to kiss his lips. 

“How do you want me?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and you have to shake off the impending blush at the way his words make you feel. You have work to do, and you had gotten over your silly little crush on him years ago, you need to get a grip. 

You recover fairly smoothly though with a quick smile, “Right,” he’s never worked with you before, and he’s looking to you for direction, “head back a bit, please, and eyes closed,” 

“Alright,” He follows your instructions to the letter. 

“Okay,” You tell him, “primer first. Let me know if anything bothers you,” 

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed. 

He has the loveliest eyelashes, that’s the thought that echoes through your brain as you start working on him, and you wish it never occurred to you at all because you keep glancing up at his closed eyes. He lets you work, he knows you’re exhausted so he doesn’t push you for conversation, and you’re strangely grateful. You know he’s chatty sometimes in the chair, an extrovert through and through and always keeping Eunji company or talking with the member beside him, but right now he keeps still and gives you respite on a hard day. 

You’re patting foundation into his skin with a large paddle brush when Iseul interrupts your thoughts, “Do you have that eggplant liner?” 

“Check my table,” You offer, but with how sluggish your brain is feeling there’s no way you remember a single thing on your station without looking.

“Mm,” She pivots around and pokes through the products and tools behind you, and you glance over as San opens his eyes to watch Iseul rifle through things. 

“Damn,” She mutters, “how much time do we have?” 

“Um,” You glance down at your watch, “twenty?” 

“Perfect,” She scoots behind you and disappears into the hall, no doubt to find your traveling makeup case and the liner. 

You sigh, chewing the inside of your lip at the idea that you only have twenty more minutes, but you really don’t want to rush and have his makeup melt off on-stage. 

“You’re fine,” San assures, his body angled towards you and Yunho now while he waits, “don’t worry about the clock,”

Yunho hums his agreement from below you, “Plenty of time,”

You refocus on Yunho’s skin and notice a long black and white hair from the paddle brush affixed to his cheek, mixed in with the foundation. You take the brush again, wiping off any excess foundation and checking to see if more fibers are loose, and then you work the brush against his cheek in an attempt to free the loose hair but it isn’t coming off easily. Every attempt you make just slides the hair into a different spot on his cheek and covers it with more foundation. 

“Um,” You usually don’t like to do this, but you might have to, “can I just…”

His eyes open but his expression stays smooth, “Can you?” 

“Sorry,” You shake your head, “do you mind if I touch you?” 

“You already are,” He smiles, a small, amused crease between his brows you’ll have to pat out momentarily. 

You tuck your brush away and gesture with your hand, “You just have a hair,” 

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,” 

You’re just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, that’s all it is, so you’re completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his. 

Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and it’s the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that it’s started up again. 

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse. 

“You,” Yunho manages, his voice shaky and you know for sure he felt it too. 

You rock back a step, “I don’t understand,” 

“Shit,” Someone else says, and then you realize that it’s San and you’re not alone with the only other person in the entire world, you’re in the middle of work in front of at least one other person and it’s only your existence that just got tilted on its axis. Yours and maybe Yunho’s. 

“Oh,” You glance to the side, taking in San’s wide eyed expression, “oh my God,” 

“I’m not insane, am I?” Yunho smiles, his focus entirely on you, and you think you might just pass out, “You felt that?” 

There’s a noise in the hall and San scrambles up to his feet, “Iseul,” he says heading for the door, “do you need help looking?” 

He’s covering for you both, but thoughts are slow to form and all you can manage is blinking at the man in your chair. 

“You did, right?” He asks again, eyes soft and hopeful, and then his fingers brush over the center of his chest. Squarely over his breastbone.

He’s yours. 

You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if it’s the same looping knot shape as yours, but you don’t need to see it to know for sure. It’s him. 

San says something about forgetting the liner altogether, a little louder so you both know the room is going to get crowded again, and you shake your head to jolt yourself out of your paralyzed position. 

“You didn’t?” His hand falls. 

“I did,” You rush to correct, “I’m, I don’t know,” 

He nods, wetting his lips and shifting in his chair. He moves to reach for you, but reason and sense click back into place immediately and you realize that no matter what your tattoo feels like and no matter what this means, you’re at work and about to have a very private moment in a very public place if you’re not careful. 

You shake your head with a glance at his hand and jerk your head towards the door, “Later,” 

“Right,” He leans back from you, “of course, right,” 

Footsteps to your right draw your attention and Iseul is huffing, checking her own watch, “We’ll do brown,” 

“That’ll be fine,” San assures her, but his eyes are glued on the pair of you. 

Iseul moves to step around you again and realizes you’re just standing there, “What’s with you?” 

“Sorry,” You manage, blinking hard and refocusing, “I just got dizzy,” 

It’s not entirely a lie, given that you felt the entire earth shift under your feet thirty seconds ago and your life is completely changed. Dizzy is the least of how you’re feeling. 

Yunho’s expression shifts immediately, concern across his face, and he curls his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out again, from being too familiar. 

“Oh,” Her eyebrows raise high, “do you need me to finish Yunho?”

“N-no,” You take a breath, “just give me one second,” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yunho asks, and in the back of your brain you wonder if his voice has always sounded this good. 

“Here,” San cuts in smoothly, cracking the seal on a fresh water bottle and passing it over to you, “do you need to sit a minute?” 

San’s hand rests on your upper back between your shoulders as you take a long sip of water, the cold shocking your brain back to reality in exactly the way you need. 

“Thank you,” You tell him honestly, “I think I’m okay, just a headrush,” 

San nods, and when you refocus your eyes on Yunho, you almost laugh. His gaze is squarely on San’s hand where it sits on your back, and you watch the fast, silent exchange between the two men when San drops his hand and Yunho realizes his own reaction. He blushes, ears running red and he dips his head to avoid both your eyes. 

“Iseul,” San steps around you both and distracts your friend, “ready to wrap?” 

“Yeah,” She agrees, “let’s finish up. You’re sure you’re okay, y/n?” 

“Mhm,” You hardly trust your own voice, but you nod anyway, “I’m good now.” 

Yunho tilts his face back up as you step close, and the tension between you is so palpable and so familiar that you can hardly breathe. Your tattoo feels warm and heavy and something tells you that his does too, you can see it in the tenderness of his brown eyes. 

“Dizzy?” He asks quietly, keeping his words just for you. 

You shake your head, “No,”

“That’s good,” He murmurs, but he lets whatever words he wants to say rest on his tongue. 

Your tattoo throbs and you don’t dare touch his bare skin again. 

His makeup takes fifteen more minutes and his eyes don’t stray from your face the entire time. You barely finish on time, and wardrobe is standing by to get them into their first outfits of the night, so when you put the final touches on he’s already being pulled out of the chair before you have a chance to say anything. 

You want to corner him and ask him exactly when he’ll have time to talk later, but despite working together for the last few years, you and Yunho aren’t that close. You’re friendly, but you’re not familiar enough to casually ask what he’s doing later and not have it seem strange. While friendships between staff members and idols are not discouraged, even between the opposite sex, being overly familiar or suggestive would certainly leave a question in everyone’s minds, and you don’t want to draw attention to yourself that quickly. 

This is between you and Yunho, no one else. You don’t want an audience for this. 

So he goes, pulled away by wardrobe and his other members, fitted quickly into his Soundcheck outfit. He has his game face on, so do all the members, and you watch him disappear down the hall without a second glance back at you. 

You collapse into the couch and press your eyes closed, focusing on the singular feeling of heat and soreness from your chest.

A soulmate. 

The tattoo on your chest was one you barely looked at anymore, too focused on living your life to sit in the mirror and wonder about the person who would be your other half, the person that would slot into the gaps in your spirit with a simple brush of skin on skin. But now, it aches. It pulses to remind you that it’s real and that you’ve found him. 

Everything in your life is about to change. Has already changed.

On the couch you don’t sleep as much as you disassociate, still stunned, your buzzing brain filtering out everything Iseul says as she cleans up around you and preps both of your brush belts for touch ups. There’s such a small amount of time between Soundcheck and the concert that you barely get to process, you just exist, playing the moment you touched him over again and again in your mind. Despite how utterly changed you feel, the world is just continuing on around you like a regular day.

Once again, you and Yunho miss each other for every brief moment between Soundcheck and stage.

The shift happens in the wings, in the underbelly of the stage where you and the other staff members for hair, makeup, and wardrobe wait for any last minute quick fixes. The eight of them are almost ready, pumping themselves up between rows of technical equipment and stage scaffolding. 

There’s so much commotion around you and yet your eyes are drawn to him like a magnet, the feelings you once had for him coming back to you full force in a blurry torrent. 

He shifts, stretches, swallows hard, and then looks up directly into your eyes. There’s a question in them that you can’t read, but you manage to smile. 

His shoulders relax just a little. 

You raise your fist, giving him the gesture for ‘fighting’ and he returns it with a wide grin. 

“Alright,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, the final step of their pre-show ritual as the concert hall starts to roar, “huddle up.” 

The eight of them circle up with each other, one leg in and one out. 

“We’ve practiced hard,” Hongjoong starts, patting his members on the back, “let that practice pay off, and have fun out there,” 

“Okay!” San hypes them up, getting the tension high. 

“Let’s give it our all,” Hongjoong continues, a wide smile on his face, “fighting!”

They echo it back, and a tense feeling starts to roll in your gut. 

“Alright, one,” Hongjoong starts the count and you feel the tension in your own body rising, enough to make you take a soft step back from the group, “two,” 

On three they chorus it, moving their feet in a synchronized step,  “Eight makes one team! Fighting!” 

They break apart, clapping each other on the back, and your eyes meet Yunho’s for one more fast second before he’s jogging after the rest of the members and finding his mark on the stage risers. 

You feel the sensation of his eyes on you even after he’s gone. You have the length of four songs and their opening ments before members start swapping out on stage for makeup touch-ups and technical adjustments. The sound of the audience is intense, the start of the first song keying up, and you stumble back from your post to get a breath of air away from it all. 

There’s a bathroom along the hallway two doors down from the green room that’s meant for staff and you blissfully find it empty. With shaking hands you flip the lock and sink down into a crouch, your back braced against the wall as you breathe through the sudden wave of feelings filling your chest. 

Adrenaline, that’s what the bitter taste on your tongue is. 

Your heart is thumping, double time like you’re running a marathon, and then you realize it. You can feel him, even now with the bond between you unfulfilled you can feel his emotions coming to you like a wave. Adrenaline, anxiety, euphoria, exhaustion, it all roils through you and you brace your hands on the wall to get your composure back. 

They say the first time you feel your soulmate link it takes you by surprise, but this is an intensity you couldn’t have imagined. It’s all encompassing and honestly terrifying, and you’re struggling to understand which parts of you are you and which are him. You can’t conceive of how an accepted bond would make this feeling stronger when it already feels like your emotions and his are knit together so tightly. 

Anxiety strikes down the link and you realize it’s not stage fright, it’s for you. He can feel your panic and your fear just like you can feel every ounce of his performance and if you don’t get yourself in check you’re going to be distracting him even more than you already are. 

You yank yourself up off the floor and collapse against the sink, turning on the cold water tap and taking slow and steadying breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Counting slowly, relaxing your body with every pulse of oxygen through your system. You hope he can feel it, but you have no idea how this all really works. You’ll have to call your sister when this is all said and done, find out what she felt when she met her wife, but right now in this bathroom in Berlin you have to do this by yourself. 

You hear the pulse of another song thrumming through the stadium as they keep performing, and you feel the thundering beat of his heart in your chest, but you breathe into it this time and try to keep yourself calm for his sake. You splash cold water on your face, keep breathing low and slow, and eventually you pull yourself back up to standing tall to look at yourself in the mirror. 

You look the same as you did a few hours ago, before him, but the warmth in your chest is still present and you wonder if that will ever go away or if that’s just a permanent part of the link. 

With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and pull your bralette down in the center to reveal what you already know is there. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 

The tattoo nestled at the base of your sternum is the only one you were born with. Every other line of ink on your body was put there with intention, but this one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The maedeup knot is small, but intricate, and until this moment it had always been colorless. Loops of black and gray twining together to make a rounded diamond, unbroken with no beginning or end to the threads. 

Now the ink has changed, a deep red against your skin that makes the knotted josephin soulmark look even more traditional, but the skin is slightly inflamed, tender to the touch as you brush your fingertips along it. It feels like a fresh mark, not something you’ve had since birth, but considering how it’s changed, maybe it is new. A soulmark shifting color is common, you know that, but it still stands out so starkly against your skin and your other black tattoos. You can’t look away from it. 

A pounding on the bathroom door makes you jump and you fix your shirt, covering the mark back up and buttoning it away. You wonder if Yunho’s mark is the exact same like other couples you know and if it too turned red, if it’s warm to the touch, if he felt you brush against your mark through the link. 

“y/n?” A voice comes through the door and you shut off the tap. 

“Coming!” You wipe the excess water on your hands onto your jeans and take one last, fast look to make sure your mark isn’t visible, before opening the bathroom door. 

Wonshik, one of their many managers, is waiting for you on the other side. His eyes narrow when he sees you, “Are you ill?” 

“No,” You assure him. 

“You’re sure?” He presses, “We can’t afford to lose any more staff or risk getting the members sick if you are,” 

“I know, Wonshik,” You nod, “I promise I’m just tired, jet-lagged. I was putting cold water on my face, that’s all. I’m not sick,” 

He exhales in relief, his expression softening, “Thank God,” he says, “I can only take so many surprises.” 

A little sickness is nothing compared to a staff member and an idol under a dating ban being soulmarked, but you hold your tongue. 

“They’re about to come off,” He says, “Iseul was looking for you, she seems like she might start climbing the walls if you don’t get back to help her,” 

“No, of course,” You start back towards the side stage entrance, “I lost track of time, but it won’t happen again,” 

“Make sure you sleep tonight,” He adds, following you closely, “no sleep means no immune system, and no immune system means sick.” 

“Don’t worry,” You promise, winding your way through the dark backstage, “you won’t lose me,” 

“I better not,” He sighs, and then Iseul comes into sight. 

“There you are!” She hisses low under her breath, “I was about to have a panic attack,” 

“I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m good,” In the commotion, your brain starts to ease into normalcy. You’re used to this pace, the speed of lightning fast makeup touch-ups and assisting wardrobe when things start to go awry with their quick changes. The audience feels none of this, they just see smooth change-outs on stage and cool idols in new clothes, but backstage is a wild flurry and it always puts you on an entirely different plane of focus. 

“Here we go,” A stage director starts, gathering everyone’s attention, “four minutes… starting…” 

The stage goes dark and in the venue a video starts to play to the crowd to fill the space between costume changes. You prep your hands, making sure your kit is ready to go and you see the wardrobe specialists out of the corner of your eye readying themselves to help facilitate the quick change. 

Suddenly they’re here, and the stage director interrupts once more, “Now, four minutes people, let’s go.” 

“Mingi,” He gets to you first and he crouches down to drop his face to your height, “stay still one second,” 

He says nothing, but he nods as you pat powder across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, checking him over for any other defects. He looks good and you nod, “Go, go,” 

Mingi peels off to the left of you and you hear the sound of fabric swishing as he and Wooyoung rip off the top layer of their outfits behind the privacy screens and trade garments with the wardrobe team. It’s a fast shuffle, but you stay focused on who’s in front of you. 

“Seonghwa,” You wave to him, pulling blotting tissues out of the pack on your belt, “here,” 

He knows this drill well, you’re used to working with him and you have a clean routine down. He blots the sweat off his brow himself and starts to unbutton his jacket while you shift focus to Yunho. 

For a split second you almost forget what happened earlier in the buzz of backstage, but the minute your eyes hold on his awareness floods you. 

“Hey,” You say, but there’s a time clock shout behind you and you beckon him down, “come here, let me fix things,”

He drops down to your height just like Mingi did and stays steady while you work, but his eyes flick up, “You’re okay?” 

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,” 

His expression clears a little and you guess you have your answer about the feeling of the link going both ways. 

Hongjoong clears his throat behind you both, “We’re short on time,” 

“Am I good?” Yunho checks. 

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,” 

He’s out of your eyeline a split second later, and you’re grateful for the distraction of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, otherwise you’re sure you’d dwell a little bit too long on the fact that Yunho’s half naked next to you, privacy screen or no. 

“One minute,” The stage director announces, “everyone’s doing great,” 

The boys are almost done, flying through the last of their zips and getting their hair smoothed down by that team as they finish. You put the last pat of powder on Seonghwa’s nose and give him a nod before he’s gone too, dropping his jacket as he goes and giving you all a quick flash of his bare back. 

You turn back towards the group as they prepare and your eyes zero in on Yunho again. His expression is serious, it’s his game face before he gets back out on stage, and you watch as he corrects the placement of his in-ears and ensures that his mic pack is secured. He runs through his pre-stage ritual and you can’t help but be a captive audience. 

“Good work,” The stage director says as Seonghwa rejoins the eight, fully dressed and ready for stage, “fifteen seconds for act two,” 

The crowd heats up again as the video starts to fade, and the members do their final checks. Yunho doesn’t look back at you once, his eyes forward and focused as he and the other members find their places on the rising platform that will take them back out to the main stage. 

You can see him a little though, in the low light in his white trousers and blue satin shirt. He lifts his hand, adjusting his microphone once again, and then as he drops it back to his side he lets his fingers skim over the familiar hollow of his chest. 

Your mark warms, you feel it as if it were your chest he brushed his fingers over, and your breath stops. 

The platform rises, the crowd roars, and your heart starts beating to a new rhythm. 

He really is yours. 

It turns out that later means much later. 

You manage to get out of dinner with some of the other staff members, but that just leaves you anxious and alone in a hotel room trying and failing to eat room service. Iseul would be back soon to take up her place in the other bed, and you’re starting to realize that you don’t have Yunho’s number. 

Now that emotions are a little smoother, you can’t feel him. Or maybe you can, but it’s so faint that you’re not sure. All you know is that he’s definitely in the hotel, but that’s partially the solid feeling of your link with him and partially the YouTube live being broadcast from Seonghwa’s room where all of the members are. 

You put the live on and watch, feeling strangely disconnected from the men on screen. You’ve known them for years, but suddenly with this new truth everything feels foreign and confusing. 

You should call your sister, but it’s only six in the morning in Korea and even though this is an emergency of life altering and epic proportions, you can’t bring yourself to wake her on a Saturday. 

You try your best to eat the pasta you ordered and watch as the live eventually ends. Your phone dings and for a split second you think it will be him, but it’s just Iseul telling you she’s heading back to the hotel. 

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch. 

You’re frozen. 

There’s another knock, a little firmer this time but then you feel the warm touch against your mark and you’re on your feet, your hand on the door handle before you can think. 

He looks tired, that’s your first thought. His face is bare again, and his eyes are rimmed in a little bit of red like he just removed the day’s stage makeup. Despite all that, he smiles when he sees you and sighs, leaning against the door frame, “You’re awake,” he says. 

“I waited,” You manage. 

He grimaces, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” his eyes flick behind you into the room and he swallows, “are you alone?” 

“Yes,” You nod, “but not for long, Iseul’s on her way,” 

He nods, “Come to my room?” 

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen. 

“We need to talk,” He nods, “can you get away for a little while?” 

Iseul will probably expect you to be asleep, but you can’t let this go until morning. If you’re ever going to sleep you need to talk to him now. 

“I’ll think of something,” You tell him, “what room?” 

“2606,” He answers, reaching into his pockets and producing an envelope from the front desk, “take this,” 

He passes you one of his room keys and you nod, “I’ll be up in five minutes, but you should go,” 

“Okay,” He breathes and neither one of you makes a single move to step away from the door until a sound down the hallway pushes you into it. 

“2606,” You repeat and he nods, swiftly moving down the hall before anyone can see him standing at your door. 

You have no idea what you’re going to tell Iseul that would make sense, but you don’t care. You stack up your room service for collection, kick on a pair of slippers, and give yourself the fastest look in the mirror ever on your way out the door. You want to be gone before she gets back, the idea of facing her and lying ten times more difficult than an empty text. 

No problem - I can’t sleep, I’m just going to walk a bit. Don’t wait up.

You don’t stick around to see if she’ll believe it. 

You try to seem casual when walking to Yunho’s room, like it's yours. You don’t want anyone to give you a second glance and wonder where you’re going, so you keep your head up, smile at anyone you pass, and when his door comes into view you scan the card like it’s any other day. 

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh. 

“God, finally,” His voice startles you, and you look up to see him pacing, “I’ve been going insane all day,” 

Your shoulders drop, you aren’t alone, “Me too,”

He runs a hand through his black hair and finally stops pacing, but doesn’t come any closer, “So, this is real?” 

“It feels pretty real,” 

“How did we never feel it?” He manages, “I’ve known you for years,” 

“We’ve never touched until today,” You tell him, and that has to be the reason, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You’ve been turning it over in your mind all night, and with the exception of bumping into him last week in the hall, it’s all been polite bows and waves. 

“How is that even possible,” He breathes, “team dinners? Holiday parties? Work?” 

“Skin to skin,” You murmur, “I think that’s what it was,” 

“I had no idea,” He swallows, gesturing in the negative space between your bodies, “I always liked you, but I thought it was just, you know, a crush,” 

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise. 

“Well,” He backtracks, “not like that, it’s not like I’ve been holding a candle.” 

Your face stays neutral, but he grimaces at his own words. 

“I’m fucking this up,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.” 

Your stomach warms, “Yunho, it’s okay, honestly,” 

“I just meant I’ve always liked you, I thought about asking you out when our contracts loosened up if you were still single.” He clarifies and then you watch his face blanch, “You are single, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” You nod, “we don’t have to worry about that,” 

He nods and you see him searching for the next thing to say, the right thing. 

“Your mark,” You cut in, taking a few steps further into the room, “did it change?” 

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?” 

“Yeah,” You wonder the right way to ask him if you can see. 

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?” 

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?” 

“Like a fresh tattoo,” You take another step in. 

“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” He confesses, “but I’ll take your word for it,” 

“Can I,” The words are stuck on your tongue, “maybe this is weird, but I mean, I guess we’re soulmates,” 

“You want to see it?” He surmises. 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” 

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

Heat twists in your gut and you wonder if he can feel that too. If he does he doesn’t say it, but you watch as he pulls the black t-shirt off over his head. 

You’ve never seen his chest. Any inch of his skin except for his neck and arms really, and you guess that was part of keeping his soulmark covered. Idols always do, even when they’re in the most inconvenient locations, there’s always makeup or flesh colored tape or editing to take care of it. The idea that someone could replicate it and try to fake a connection is far too real for someone famous. 

He drops his shirt onto the bed and pink tinges his cheeks as he gestures towards it, “Well,” 

Your mouth drops, it’s the exact same, down to the size and the placement and every little loop and you stumble forwards to get a better look, “Yunho,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Has yours always been red?” You reach out, your fingertips hovering just over it. 

He shakes his head, “Not before today,” 

“Mine’s the same,” You tell him, your eyes glued to his sternum, “just the same,” 

You know every centimeter of this tattoo. You’ve studied it a thousand times in the mirror, tracing over every curve with your eyes, trying to find the place where the cord starts and ends. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers brush gently along his mark, and you feel the ghost of the sensation against your own. 

“I can’t believe we never knew,” You murmur, sliding your finger along each rounded edge. 

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?” 

You’re nodding and moving to tug off your sweater before you can even think it through. He starts to shake his head, to say that you don’t have to, but you’re already tossing the sweater next to his discarded shirt and tugging down the front band of your bralette so he can see the whole mark. 

His eyes flick over you fast, but with the matching mark in front of him he doesn’t focus on anything else, “It’s exactly the same,” 

“I know,” You reach for his hand, but the minute more of your skin connects with his you feel your chest throb and you drop it like it burns you. 

He winces, touching his chest again, “Is it supposed to hurt?” 

“In the beginning,” You nod, “I think?” 

“Does it always feel like that?” 

“I’m not sure,” You admit, “I was going to call my sister and ask, but it’s too early at home,” 

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?” 

“In highschool,” You smile back, “they’ve been bonded together since they were eighteen,” 

“Older or younger?” He asks, and you realize just how little you know about each other despite how long you’ve worked alongside him. 

“Younger,” You say.  

“I have a little brother,” He replies, “but he’s still in school,” 

You nod, painfully aware that this is such a strange conversation to have with your shirts off just standing in the middle of a hotel room, but somehow it’s easier than any date you’ve ever had. 

Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mark and he reaches out a hand again, “Can I?” 

Your heart quickens and you nod. 

His fingertips graze over the edge of your mark, mimicking your touch from before, sliding along the edges of the tattoo. His eyes widen and you know he’s feeling the sensation in his own mark, a mirror image of each other. 

“This doesn’t hurt,” He observes, letting his fingers linger. 

“I think we have to get used to each other,” You remember that fact from somewhere, “the link has been dormant for a long time, I think it takes a minute to get used to having it,” 

“Makes sense,” He murmurs, his eyes still squarely on your mark, “I’ll be honest though, I still really want to touch you,” 

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready. 

His fingers fall away and he nods, “Don’t you?” 

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly. 

He swallows tightly and takes the smallest step forwards, before offering out his hand, palm up and waiting for you.

Your eyes flick from his face down to his outstretched hand, and you reach for him slowly. You let your fingertips skate over the skin of his palm, down each digit, ghost the pads of your fingertips together. It’s warm, sharp and dizzying even just to brush against each other. 

You wonder what more will feel like. 

“Can I try something?” He murmurs, his voice nearly a whisper even though you’re all alone. 

You nod. 

He wets his lips unconsciously and moves a little closer, your bodies now only inches apart. Anxiety, anticipation, thrill, it all runs through your gut like a whirling wind and you shiver at the torrent of his emotions, a grin breaking out over your face. 

His smile mirrors yours, “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute,” 

“You can feel that?” 

“Yeah,” He breathes, grin widening, “this is crazy,” 

You laugh, a little nervous, a little elated, and he finally reaches out his hands. 

He takes a steadying breath, and then his fingertips brush along your jaw. 

You suck in a sharp gasp at the sensation, electric and hot, the feeling rocketing through your entire body. You tilt your face up to his as he continues his gentle touches, your eyes watching him as he studies you. His plush lips are parted, brown eyes wide with awe as he grows a little bolder to brush over your cheeks, down your throat, and back up to your jawline. 

“Feel alright?” He murmurs. 

You nod into his touch and he starts to lift off but you reach for him, “Don’t stop,” 

Your hands land safely on his hips, still covered by his sweatpants and you watch him swallow again at the sudden contact, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Warmth fills the bond, no doubt the first threads of his arousal, and you wonder if he can feel your own. If he can sense how much he’s affecting you with just his fingertips on your face. 

His hands settle back on your skin, this time smoothing across you with his palms, one hand cupping your cheek and the other sliding over your shoulder and down your bare back. 

You can barely breathe, the room so silent and around you, like the only thing in the universe that exists is the two of you orbiting each other, standing at the precipice of something so catastrophic and wonderful. 

Your hands adjust, resting on his taut abdomen as you move a little closer together, and his eyes flutter shut as he breathes through the sensation of your hands on him properly for the first time. 

“You’re so warm,” You murmur, your hands softly tracing his abdominal muscles, instinct guiding you to touch more of him, seek out every inch of him as you unconsciously make a map of his body in your mind. 

He hums pleasantly, eyes reopening, “So are you,” 

He feels so right, so essential under your touch. 

Yunho wets his lips softly with his tongue, and a nervous thrill passes through your belly. His eyes flick over you, the pad of his thumb sweeping a line over your lips. You suppress a needy sound, still trying to keep your head amidst the thrumming emotions and steady thumps of your heart. 

He doesn’t stop, just stroking your skin slowly, fingers on your back pressing just a little as he sighs. 

“Yunho,” You shiver. 

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer. 

“N-no,” Your body is all but pressed flush against him now, and you have to lean your face up even more just to see him as he stands tall over you. 

“I…” He starts to say something but lets the words die off, like he’s thinking something through, but then he sighs, “forget it,” 

His lips are on yours. 

Yunho lifts you, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you up into his embrace. You gasp against his mouth, finding his shoulders to hold onto as one of his arms bands around your lower back. 

The kiss is shattering, the world tilting once again, a new frequency humming between your two bodies. It’s hot, your skin buzzing from the contact, but the way you move together is fluid and easy. Your legs part naturally, settling around his hips and his free hand finds your plush thigh as he tugs you into place, slotting your bodies together like they were always meant to be. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your lips when he draws in a quick breath, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. His nose nuzzles against yours, and his lips part at the same moment yours do, tongues meeting in the space between your mouths to flick against each other. 

“Don’t,” You push closer to him, fingers knotting into the back of his hair as you kiss him back. 

He hums, the hand on your thigh sliding up to cup your ass and you shiver as his wide hand stretches across your backside, squeezing your pillowy flesh. 

A tiny whimper does leave you then, liquid heat spreading through your body, the combined sensation of both your arousals giving you a headrush. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs between kisses, “you’re so beautiful,” 

“Yunho,” Your voice is thready, his name a stretched out sound. 

He holds you close, nearly stumbling as he moves. You blink your eyes open just as he spins you both, pushing you up against the hotel wall and pinning you in place with the weight of his body.  You should slow things down, but nothing in your life has ever felt this good and you find yourself diving back to meet his kiss again. 

 His arm slides out from behind your back as he pushes closer, your body fully supported by the flat of the wall behind you and his hips under yours and one hand firmly anchored on your ass. With his arm free he cups your cheek, a pleased sound on his lips as he dips you back into the wall and deepens the kiss. 

Heat blooms through you, your kisses getting needier, artless and desperate just to get a little closer together. The kind of kissing that sounds as messy as it is, tiny pants and moans muffled between you, skin on skin, tongue on tongue. 

“God,” He shudders, his lips breaking away, but his eyes only flick over you for a second before he dives back in. This time his lips travel, hot kisses across your jaw and back to the hollow of your ear, down your throat as he holds you a little higher on the wall for the right access. 

You grip his shoulders with one hand and lock your fingers in his mess of black hair with the other, your head falling back against the wall. He pants against your throat, a soft groan as he kisses, and your stomach tightens pleasantly. 

“Y-Yunho,” You gasp, arousal rolling through you, and unconsciously you rock your hips, desperately seeking some kind of friction. 

He hums low in his throat, kissing back up your neck fast to get to your lips again and his hand slides off your cheek as he crowds you tighter, bracing himself against the wall above your head. His abdomen presses against your core, and even through layers of fabric you feel his heat. Hungrily, you roll your hips again and catch a little pressure, moaning in earnest against his mouth. 

Yunho makes a tight sound and then he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he takes in slow breaths, his body all but trembling with need as he holds you. 

“We need to slow down,” He manages. 

You can’t find words, not yet, but you nod against him. 

“You deserve better,” He says, “dates, presents,” 

You laugh softly, your hand in his hair softening from a grip to a gentle hold, carding through the long locks at the base of his neck, “I don’t need all that,”  

He smiles wide, brushing off your words, “Still,” He sighs, still recovering from the heated make out, “I think I have more self control than fulfilling our bond by fucking you into the wall,” 

Reality bleeds back in at that. Soulmarks were just that, indicator marks. A way to find your person amidst a sea of thousands, if not millions. All the shared sensation and emotion a precursor to something more permanent and binding, something only sealed together by sex. 

You lift your head up, and he leans back to mirror you. 

“I lost my head there,” You admit, warm blush in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it would feel like this,” 

He smiles, and you take in his expression. His hair is a mess, mussed and disheveled and his face is pink from his nose down to the dark, well-kissed curve of his lips. His bare chest is flushed bright pink and his eyes are bright and warm. You fight the urge to kiss him again. 

“Me either,” He shakes his head, “it’s incredible,” 

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly. 

He makes a soft sound to agree and then starts to push back from the wall gingerly, letting you slowly unwrap your legs from his waist and ease down to the floor. 

He lets you go when you’re steady on your feet and clears his throat, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants and running a hand through his tangled locks. He’s hard, that much is obvious from the distinct outline of his cock through the gray fabric, but you do your best to look away and not think about how thick and heavy it looked just from kissing you. 

“Jesus,” He adjusts his sweats again, “sorry,” 

“It’s fine,” You cup your own cheeks with cool fingers, “I promise you’re not the only one,” 

His eyes hold yours for a lengthy beat and then he swallows, taking a wide step back and nodding, “Right,” he shakes his head, “we’re supposed to be slowing down.” 

“Slow,” You lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to steady your thumping heart. 

“I’m going over here,” He grins and walks to the far wall by the door to the bathroom, leaning back and crossing his own arms, “we really should talk,” 

A pulse of anxiety flickers through you, and you realize just how quickly you went from his hotel room door to nearly falling into bed. He’s handsome, a kind man, your once upon a time crush, and certainly fated to be a good match for you, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out good sense and rush things. No matter how much your impulses were screaming at you to do just that.

You try to ignore the fact that there’s a bed between you, and you nod, “You’re right,” you finally say, “we barely know each other,” 

Yunho’s smile fades just a bit, “I wouldn’t say that,” 

“We’re coworkers,” The words tumble out, “I know what we’re both feeling, but,” 

His brow furrows as he thinks through your words and he shakes his head, “y/n,” he cuts you off, “do you believe in soulmates?” 

“Yes, of course,” Even if you hadn’t before, the way you’re feeling now would be enough to dispel any skeptic. 

He takes in a quick breath, the sound sharp as he draws it through his teeth and he cocks his head slightly to the side, “You’re scared,” he massages the top of his sternum with his fingers, and you recognize your own chest is tight with anxiety, “I can feel it, talk to me.” 

The instant vulnerability of the bond is startling, and you can feel your own expression crumble. It’s suddenly a bit like being an ant caught under a magnifying glass, too much sharp attention all at once and you swallow tightly, eyes flicking away from his tender gaze. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, “I’m not pushing for more, not tonight,” 

“Yeah,” Your voice is soft, too quiet for your own liking. Something about the way he sees you so clearly and so quickly makes you feel exposed, nervous and strangely childlike. 

“Hey,” He breaks through your little thought spiral, “look at me,”

You straighten up again, finding his eyes. 

“I’m just happy I found you,” He tells you, and you feel the truth of it in your gut, “we can figure everything else out together, and at our own pace, okay?” 

Relief spreads through you, the knot in your chest loosening, “Promise?” 

“Promise,” He nods, raising one hand with his pinky extended, “I just want us to try,” 

You nod, extending your own pinky to seal it, “Me too.” 

He smiles at that, “Barely know each other,” he scolds softly, “I’m offended.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tension bleeds out of your shoulders. 

“Mhm,” His expression is full of cheek, “I’m the one with a crush, remember? I notice things,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly and your arms relax from their tight position crossed over your chest, “What things?” 

“Let’s see,” He starts, and for a brief moment you think maybe he’s bluffing, but the moment he starts you melt and he holds your gaze as he warmly recites all the little things he’s noticed about you over the years. 

“You only wear silver jewelry,” he notes first, nodding towards you. 

Your tight hands uncurl. 

“You have a ridiculous sweet tooth,” The more he talks the more he relaxes against the far wall, “and you start getting flushed after the second shot of soju, you really are a lightweight,” 

“You always pick a Big Bang song for karaoke, and you’re late to work every Monday,” He laughs a little at that and keeps going, “you don’t wear a lot of color but when you do it’s red. We’re both from Gwangju but you moved to Seoul when you were five,” 

Your heart starts to beat a little faster, warmth filling you again and you don’t know if it’s your affection or his anymore, but it hardly matters. 

“Um,” He takes a deep breath and glances away for a moment and then catches more threads from his memory, “you’re a Sagittarius, you’re a runner, and the last book I saw you reading was Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I bought it, but I haven’t had a chance to read it just yet,” 

“Yunho,” You find yourself smiling, a hand over your surprised lips. 

“I’m just saying,” He shrugs a little, “we aren’t strangers. I know this is scary and fast and going to change the rest of our lives,” 

Elation, pure joy, spills over unfettered from his side of your new emotional tether. 

“But I like you,” He confesses, “I have for a while, and this,” he brushes his fingers along his soulmark, “just changes the timeline.” 

He’s yours. 

You push off the wall, crossing the room and all but leap back into his embrace, your arms looping around his shoulders again as you push up on tiptoe to kiss his lips. 

“This is real,” You murmur. 

“Yes,” He cups your cheeks, nodding as he pecks your lips again. 

“You’re mine,” 

“Yes,” He grins. 

“Oh, this is crazy,” You laugh, forehead against his again. 

“We’ll go slow,” He assures you again, “we’ll figure it out together,” 

“Together,” You nod. 

He dips low once more, this kiss more tender, and he separates you both before things can heat up again. “Hmm,” He glances across the bed and makes a small face at the time displayed on the digital clock, “did you eat?” 

“I tried to,” You confess, “I was nervous,” 

“You need to eat,” He snaps up his black shirt from the bed and slips it back on, and your chest warms. It’s strangely domestic, strangely commonplace like you’ve been in this position a thousand times before. 

Yunho adjusts his shirt and then kisses your hair as he passes by you, padding over to the hotel microwave and searching through the assorted snacks and instant meals, “It’s too late for room service,” 

“I’m okay,” You pull your own sweater back on and sit on the edge of his bed. 

“y/n,” He glances back, a softly scolding tone. 

“Really, you need to sleep,” You offer. 

He dismisses that thought, “But I’m hungry, eat with me?” 

You concede, and while he starts whipping up two servings of ramen, you wonder if this is what he’s going to be like. It makes sense, he’s always been a caretaking kind of person, but having it so tenderly directed at you feels right. 

“When we get home,” He says as he pours in the spice packets, “I’ll take you somewhere nice,” 

“This is nice,” You smile. 

“y/n,” He sets the ramen on a side table and sits next to you, “this is cup noodle from a hotel microwave,”

“The company is nice,” You take the ramen happily though, and tuck into the warm meal.

“It is,”

“Mm, you know,” You slurp back some noodles and softly clear your throat, “you weren’t the only one with a crush,” 

He freezes, letting his noodles drop back into his cup, “What?” 

“I’ve always liked you,” Your own confession feels easier after his, “I put it aside since we work together, but I guess, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that we both felt it before the mark, you’re not alone in that.” 

 “I had no idea,” 

“I’m very professional,” You tease him lightly. 

He nudges you and tucks back into his noodles, “How long?” 

“Hmm,” You get more comfortable, crossing your legs and scooting back a little onto the mattress, “I thought you were cute when we first met,” 

“God,” He groans, “we were such kids,” 

You nod, swallowing another bite, “Mhm, you had that blonde hair,” 

He laughs. 

“I remember thinking, ‘that one’s trouble’,” You confess. 

“Me?” His eyebrows perk up, “I’m perfectly nice,” 

“Trouble as in you’re my type,” You roll your eyes, “but I don’t think the crush properly came until later. You’ve always made me laugh, and when I realized how I was feeling I just did my best to keep some distance,” 

He nods, face getting a little serious, “I know what you mean,” 

That knowledge leaves you both a little quiet. The late hour, the adrenaline come down, all of it barrels into you at the same moment as the next anxious thought. How in the world were you both going to navigate this with a contract as tight as theirs and the public eye always watching? 

“Yunho,” You murmur, the last of your noodles left to go cold as you sit with that thought, “Are we going to be able to figure this out?” 

“Figure what out?” He looks genuinely confused by your question, “Us?” 

“You’re an idol,” You nod towards him, “I’m staff,” 

He rests a hand on your knee, “We’ll be fine,” 

“Aren’t your contracts,” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. 

“They’re strict, yes,” He nods, “year seven,” 

Dating, romance, even the perception of it was more than discouraged by companies in this industry, their artists contractually obligated to be single and available and dedicated only to their fans. Five years would have been the industry standard to prevent any idol from being caught out with a partner, let alone a potential soulmarked one, but seven is excessive. 

You blanch, “That’s almost two years away,” 

“We will find a way,” He says, “we’re not the first people in the industry this has happened to,” 

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?” 

He falls short, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but it’s bound to have happened.” 

“And then ruined their careers,” You groan, flopping back flat on the mattress and covering your face with a hand, “which is why we’ve never heard of them,” 

Yunho laughs, earnestly laughs, and takes the half empty ramen cup out of your hand to discard, “Maybe, but for now, let’s just stay positive. Get to know eachother better,” 

You nod. 

“Nothing can change the fact that we found each other,” He points out, dropping down onto his side on the bed next to you, “and I’m okay with that.” 

“So we just lie to everyone?” You chew at the inside of your lip, staring up at the white ceiling. 

“Hey,” Yunho’s fingers tuck under your chin and draw your eyes to him, “I know you’re anxious,” 

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again. 

“I know,” He repeats, “I am too, but we don’t have to decide anything tonight. We’re both tired and it’s been an emotional day,” 

“Okay,” You nod, “okay, yes, you’re right,” 

His thumb strokes over your cheek again, and you watch him exhale and sink further into your touch, “Will you stay tonight?” 

That wakes you up. 

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?” 

“Just to sleep,” He assures you, “I just… I don’t want to be without you yet,” 

“I need to get back before Iseul wakes up if we do that,” You note with a grimace. 

“What time?” He glances back to the clock. 

“Seven,” You say, “her alarm is set for seven-thirty,” 

“We can do that,” He grabs his phone off the side table and sets an alarm, “we’ll get up,” 

The pull between your bodies is so strong you’re fairly sure you would have stayed no matter the consequences, but you nod, “Then I’ll stay,” 

He grins and pushes himself off the bed, “I’ve got clothes, if you want to get comfortable,” 

“Sure,” you sit up and wait for him to find things in his still packed suitcase. 

“Um,” He pulls a pair of black sweatpants from the bag, “these should work, and if you get cold,” 

You smile as he grabs a gray hoodie and comes back to you. 

As you start to pull off your sweater again, he turns around and leaves his back to you, “Sorry,” 

“Thanks,” You chuckle, making short work of changing. You’re swimming in his clothes, but his sweatshirt smells like him and you just want to bury your face into it, “you can turn around now,” 

His shoulders relax as he turns back, and you watch his lips part as he takes you in. 

“What?” 

“You look cute,” He clears his throat, shrugging off his reaction. 

You smile and ease back onto the bed, “Oh, I get it,” you laugh, “is your guy brain on fire because I’m wearing your clothes? Is this some kind of… you won the competition, ownership thing?” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, kneeling on the bed to shuffle closer, “No competition when you’re literally fated for me,” 

“Right,” You let the word drag out on your tongue to tease him. 

“But I like taking care of you already, and now you’re warm and comfortable,” He collapses next to you onto the mattress with a sigh, “and I know I don’t own you, but you are mine, just like I’m yours now. I won’t apologize for liking you in my clothes or in my bed, for liking when you look like my girlfriend,” 

Warmth blooms in your cheeks and you duck your face into the sheets. 

“Now come get under the covers,” He maneuvers the duvet, “it’s late, you were dead on your feet today,” 

His voice is so warm and familiar, and you slide into the covers beside him. 

In bed you keep a little distance, and despite the number of times both of you say that you should go to sleep, your conversation is almost impossible to stop. Yunho holds your hand in the middle space of the mattress between your bodies, and in the dim lighting of the hotel room you whisper thought after thought back and forth. A million things coming to mind you need to tell each other so suddenly now that you’ve found each other. 

As you talk his fingers travel, restlessly stroking your skin, up and down your arm and tapping out patterns. When his palm slides back and forth over the sharp lines of the tattoos on your upper arm, and you feel the question slipping out of your lips and revealing more about yourself than you intended before you can catch it. 

“Your parents,” You blurt out, “will they be happy?” He’s spoken about them so much over the past hour that you can’t help but ask him that question point blank. 

“So happy,” He responds with ease, a laugh on his lips, “they always worried me being an idol meant I’d never be able to find the one and settle down, they’re going to love this story,” 

You smile at the easy way he calls you ‘the one’, but the question you really asked still remains unanswered and you exhale softly, “But,” you manage, “will they be happy with me?” 

Yunho stills, reaching across the bed to hook his finger under your chin and draw your eyes up to his again, “Very happy,” he says, “just like I am.” 

Your muscles relax, his words a soothing balm, and you adjust your position on the pillow beneath you, “Just checking,” 

“Mhm,” He studies your face, “jagi, why wouldn’t they be happy with you?” 

The endearment slips off his lips with ease, and a burst of warmth spreads through you. You’ve never needed pet names and softness like this from a partner, but from him it makes your heart quicken. 

The momentary elation fades though, and his question comes back into your mind. You take a deep breath, you owe it to him to tell him now, “My family won’t be happy,” 

“With me?” His eyebrows raise. 

“It’s me,” You shake your head, “my parents have difficult ideals, and I’ve never pleased them. It wouldn’t matter who you were, they… they’ll find a way to not be happy for me.”

His eyes soften, and his thumb strokes along your jaw, “I’m sorry,” 

“It is what it is,” 

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly. 

You shake your head, “No, they don’t really believe in soulmarks,” 

You watch his eyes widen in surprise. 

“Unless,” You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “the match is ‘fortuitous’,” 

“For status?” He surmises. 

“Status, money,” You shrug, “connection. But I think I could marry the next president and they’d still find a way to be disappointed in me,” 

His jaw flexes tense for just a moment, before his expression smooths over again. 

“Anyway,” You clear the bad thoughts away as quickly as they came, “my sister and I never went along like they wanted, like my cousins and the rest of my family, so we are the great disappointments. It’s not… it’s fine, but, I guess you should know before we, you know,” 

He smiles, a bit of amusement in his expression that you can’t place, “Did you think having bad parents would scare me off?” 

“It could,” 

“No,” He slides a hand under your side and tugs you across the mattress to press a fast kiss to your lips, “it never could.” 

“But I’m,” You start, all the reasons why a partner might care ringing in your ears. 

“Beautiful?” He cuts you off, “Just my type? If it’s anything else I don’t want to hear you say it,” 

Your stomach flip flops hard and you push lightly against his chest to get him to stop. 

“The thing is,” He brushes your hair back from your cheek, “my parents are soulmates. I grew up in a house full of a lot of love, even when they were being strict and scolding us.” 

Your smile at his warm expression. 

“So I know they’ll love you,” He explains, “they know what this feels like, what it means. I have plenty of family for us both,” 

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment. 

“Your sister, though,” He grounds you out of the bad thoughts without even thinking, “you two are close?” 

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles. 

“You two would get along great, my sister and her wife both, actually,” 

Yunho nods, listening attentively, “Do they have kids?” 

“Not yet,” You groan, “but I’m dying to be an auntie,” 

His thumb drags a comforting line across your cheekbone, his expression warm and affectionate, “Cute,” 

You sink into the pillows, a yawn creeping up to your lips, “She’s going to lose her mind when I call her,”  

“Yeah?” 

“Mm,” You huff a laugh, “she thought that when I started working here I should have found an inconspicuous way to bump into all of you to test possible bonds. She’s going to be riding the ‘I told you so’ train.” 

“She’s funny,” He smirks. 

“Very,” You sigh, unconsciously cuddling into his warmth. 

“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” He asks softly, adjusting his arms around you so that you’re cradled against his chest with the pillows at your back. 

“Mhm,” You yawn again, the warmth of his body settling the last of the adrenaline inside you, “a while,” 

“Let’s find a day off after the tour,” He tucks the duvet around you. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy. 

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead. 

“Yunho,” You yawn again, dipping your forehead into his chest, “God, I’m so tired again,” 

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,” 

You hum softly, fingers slipping under the edge of his shirt just to feel a little skin, “I like that,” you murmur, “I like you,” 

“I like you too,” He chuckles, “now go to sleep,” 

A piece of you wants to protest, wants more time cocooned in this day with him, but something about his body feels so right. After a week of sleeping poorly, your body tight and anxious and heart fluttering for no reason at all, when he touches you, your mind goes blissfully blank. 

Your muscles relax, your breath dropping low and soft in your chest. 

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

You’re supposed to wake up to an alarm. Early enough that you could slip back into your hotel room and your own bed to yawn and stretch next to Iseul and make her believe you were there the whole night. That’s what was supposed to happen. 

Instead, you wake to the heavy sound of a hotel door and Seonghwa’s voice, Yunho jolting awake beside you. 

“Oh my god,” Seonghwa says for what sounds like the third time to your fuzzy sleep-addled brain, “oh my god?” 

“Hyung,” Yunho pushes himself up, his arms unwinding from around you, “hey, don’t freak out,” 

“Don’t freak out,” Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, “are you fucking kidding me? Hongjoong is going to kill you,”

“You don’t understand,” Sleep is still heavy on him and he shakes his head to try to pull himself away. 

“I understand plenty,” Seonghwa counters, “how long have you been lying to us?” 

His reaction surprises you, and you ease yourself up to sit next to Yunho. You’re not sure what to say or not say, you don’t know what they’ve discussed in the past when it comes to dating and relationships, but by  Seonghwa’s outburst you can guess it’s honesty at a minimum. 

Yunho’s face falls, “No, it’s not that,” 

“I can tell you what it looks like,” Seonghwa lowers his voice to what amounts to a stage whisper. 

“Hyung,” Yunho rubs his eyes, running a hand through his mop of black hair. 

“It looks like you’ve been sneaking around,” He continues, “how long have you two been fucking?” 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice sharpens, and his hand crosses your body to anchor on your opposite thigh. 

Seonghwa’s eyes track it and he shakes his head, “This is so stupid,” he steps back in surprise, “you’re both being so, incredibly stupid.” 

Yunho gives you a squeeze and opens his mouth to reply but Seonghwa keeps going. 

“Naive is what it is,” 

Irritation bubbles in your gut and you can’t stop yourself, “Seonghwa, will you shut up for one second?” 

He stops in his tracks, mouth falling open, “What?” 

“Can you please,” You hold his gaze, “please, just listen to Yunho for a minute before you jump to conclusions.” 

He shifts, taking a step back and crossing his arms, and then he looks to Yunho. 

Yunho finds your eyes quickly, silently asking, and you give him a nod. 

“Okay,” Yunho runs a hand through his hair again, “I’ll just say it.” 

Seonghwa waits, his expression completely neutral except for the irritated corner of his lips.

“y/n is my soulmate,” Yunho squeezes your thigh again and you slip your hand into his to twine your fingers together, “we didn’t know, but now we do.” 

Seonghwa’s brows go high, shock filling his features. 

“We’re not hiding,” You add, “we just… it’s just,” 

“How long?” Seonghwa manages. 

“Soundcheck yesterday,” Yunho says, “we haven’t known long enough to lie, hyung.” 

“You’re sure?” He looks between you both, and you know what he’s thinking. How could it be possible to know each other for years and not know. 

“We’re sure,” You answer confidently, calmly, “I swear,” 

“It’s real,” Yunho’s thumb strokes across knuckles, “it’s very real.” 

Seonghwa swallows, taking in the news and sinks back against the hotel dresser, “Well, fuck,” 

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs. 

“You were off timing yesterday,” Seonghwa points out, “and distracted,” 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Yunho grimaces. 

“No, but,” He shrugs, “I know you and you’re never off time.” 

“It wasn’t easy to focus on the show yesterday,” Yunho admits. 

“I’m sorry,” You nudge him with your shoulder, knowing a huge portion of that must have been the panic flooding his side of the link. 

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to be sorry for,”

When you look back up, Seonghwa is smiling and he sighs, “Oh, you’ve both got it bad.” 

“Obviously,” You hide your face in your sweatshirt sleeve. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Seonghwa asks, “Because you can’t act like this around anyone else,” 

Your mouth feels dry. 

“We don’t know,” Yunho answers, “we have to figure that out, for now I think we just try to keep things normal.” 

Seonghwa nods and then leans forward, “Listen, I know you’re not asking for my advice,” 

You both wait. 

“But you're my brother,” Seonghwa says unequivocally, “so I’m going to give you some anyway.” 

Yunho nods. 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Seonghwa points out, “and I’m sure it will be hard to act like acquaintances in front of everyone, but you have to do it, at least until you make a plan.” 

“Yeah,” Yunho’s cheeks are a little pink and he squeezes your hand. 

“No one fires the idol for things like this,” He reminds you both, “so for her sake, put it away for today.” 

“He’s right,” You nod, “today we go back to coworkers,” 

Yunho draws your clasped hands up and kisses your fingers, “Okay,” 

“You’re lucky I offered to check on you,” Seonghwa sighs heavily, “if any of the managers came in,” 

“Check on me?” Yunho perks up at that, “Hwa, why,” 

Things come into focus for you at that moment, how bright the hotel room is with sunlight, how well rested you really feel. You twist in the bed and look at the digital clock, “Oh no,” 

“You were late,” Seonghwa explains, “we figured you overslept, I offered to use the spare key to get you up.” 

“Fuck,” Yunho curses. 

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm. 

“Iseul is going to fucking kill me,” You roll out of bed, your hands breaking apart as you scramble for you phone, “what the hell am I going to tell her?” 

Your phone reads nine-thirty. In thirty minutes you’re supposed to be packed into a van and on the way to the venue and when you look at the collection of notifications your stomach churns. 

Three calls from Iseul, and a lengthy string of text messages. 

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night? 

Can you answer me?? 

I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard anything - You haven’t even read these? 

You better not be dead in a ditch, I’ll kill you myself. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hands are trembling as you tap out the fastest reply - Alive, be right there.

Yunho’s a whirlwind behind you, stripping out of his sleep clothes and yanking on whatever outfit is at the top of his suitcase, “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,” 

“Sure,” You search the floor for your jeans and dart into the bathroom, “my best friend is going to murder me though,” 

You change at lightning speed, swapping his sweats for your jeans and then tying up your hair into a messy bun before pushing back out into the main room. 

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Seonghwa offers, “you shouldn’t run into anyone on the way back to your room.” 

“Good, okay, good,” Your heart is pounding, “where’s my room key?” 

“Here,” Yunho darts forwards and finds the little envelope, passing it to you, “take a breath,” 

“I have to go,” You manage, “I have to think of something,” 

“Don’t kiss and tell,” Seonghwa offers and he’s being funny but it’s vaguely helpful. 

“Wait,” Yunho grabs your hand and tugs you back, snapping your phone out of your hand. 

“Yunho, I don’t,” You start to say but he waves you off. 

He types fast, adding himself as a contact in Kakao Talk, “My number,” he explains. 

Seonghwa huffs a laugh. 

You take the phone back and tuck it into your pocket, “I’ll message you later,” 

“Good,” He dips forwards and presses one warm, tender kiss to your lips, “now get out of here,” 

You kiss him back, just once and fast, a little shred of self indulgence before you have to act like he’s just another guy, and then you’re darting out of the room, shouting back a thank you at Seonghwa as you go. 

You navigate the halls fast, and opt to take the stairs to get down one floor faster and more inconspicuously. You take a deep breath when you get to your hotel door, and then you dive. 

“So you are alive,” Iseul’s waiting, just like you thought she might be. She’s sitting on your still made bed, her phone in her hands and a tense expression on her face, “I was just about to tell the managers you were missing,” 

“I’m so sorry, seriously, I didn’t mean to worry you,” You take a few steps into the room. 

Her eyes flick over you, and you realize at the moment her eyes widen that you’re still wearing Yunho’s hoodie, your sweater still discarded on his bedroom floor. 

“You hooked up with someone?” Her voice spikes, “Are you kidding me?” 

Thankfully the hoodie is plain, just a heather gray with no identifying attributes that scream his name, but you’re still swimming in it and it’s clear you’re rumpled from bed. 

“Listen,” You hold up your hands, “I didn’t mean to not text you, I just fell asleep,” 

“With some guy?” She stands. 

“Yes,” You settle on some version of the truth. 

“Who?” She flounders, “We’re supposed to text each other,” 

And you always did, when either one of you went home with someone there was always a little preemptive safety report. A name, an address, a shared location, something so that you weren’t completely alone in the world with a strange guy. 

“I’m sorry,” You say again. 

She studies you, and it’s like she’s looking through you. 

“Oh my god,” Her eyes widen, “we know him.” 

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat. 

She points at you, “I’m right!” 

“It’s not a big deal,” You skirt around her words. 

“The only reason you wouldn’t text me is if you were with someone we both know,” She narrows her eyes, “so give it up.” 

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,” 

“Why are you being so weird?” 

“Iseul,” You sigh, avoiding her gaze, “I just woke up in a panic, and I have like fifteen minutes to get showered, can you give me the third degree later?” 

“I’m not letting this go,” 

“Yeah,” You pull off Yunho’s sweatshirt and head to the bathroom, “I know, but we have work.” 

“Work with a coworker you slept with,” She stands in the doorway while you start the shower, and you realize her tone isn’t so much as angry anymore but probing. 

“I didn’t sleep with him,” You groan, “well, I guess I did, but we didn’t have sex, okay?” 

“That’s awfully cozy for a one night stand,” She crosses her arms, “unless you’re seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?” 

“No,” You test the water heat and unbutton your jeans, “I swear I’ll explain another time, but can you just drop it for today? Or do you want to stand here and watch me shower?” 

“Fine,” She concedes, “you will tell me?” 

“I swear,” You nod, “I want to tell you, but I’m not ready yet, okay?” 

Her eyes soften up at that, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I’m having big feelings about it and I need to work it out,”

“Oh,” In all the years you’ve known her, she’s never seen you in love or even close, and she just blinks, “got it,” 

“Can I shower now?” You gesture towards the running water. 

“Yeah,” She steps back, “yeah, but I’m still mad you didn’t text me.” 

“Okay,” 

“And I’m still going to guess who it is,” She smirks. 

“Fine,” 

Her smile widens and she rolls her eyes, “I bet it’s one of the BB guys, isn’t it? You always like a dancer,” 

She turns the corner before she can watch you blushing harder, so nearly on the money with her guess, but you put it all out of your mind for now and focus on your day. You’re late, and it’s about to be another long one. You’ll have time for everything else later, if you can just keep your cool. 

Work is bizarre to say the least. You and Yunho both do an excellent job of not looking at each other except for when he’s in your makeup chair, and you’re getting better and better at ignoring both San’s and Seonghwa’s nervous glances. 

This time you start the makeup early, less time pressure with the schedule adjustments, and the night goes off without a hitch. Soundcheck to stage to VIP benefits, it’s a whirlwind and you’re grateful for the distractions everywhere you look. 

You can still feel him, emotions from his side of the link ebbing and flowing throughout the day, but the sharp intensity of yesterday has dulled a bit after your night together. In quiet moments you find yourself thinking about his lips, or the way his hands held you as you tumbled into sleep, but you push it down and stay professional. 

As the show ends, Iseul ropes you into team dinner, desperate to observe who you interact with and how, still on her quest to find your mystery bed partner, but the boys aren’t there and so there’s nothing for her to really see. 

Later, with Iseul passed out from one too many shots of soju, you slip back into Yunho’s hoodie and cuddle into the warmth of your own bed. You need more sleep, you know that, but your brain isn’t cooperating. You toss and turn in the sheets, body feeling like a taut cord, and all you can think of is him. 

You miss him. 

It’s not even two days of having him in your life like this and you feel nervous and achy without him. There’s no way you’ll survive two years of this. 

Over an hour passes as you sigh, changing positions again and again, and then your phone finally buzzes. You scramble to see if it’s a message from him, nearly dropping your phone in the process. 

Can’t sleep? - He must be feeling your restlessness. 

Not at all - You reply, chest feeling warm at the contact. 

Little bubbles pop up immediately to indicate he’s typing and then another message pops on your screen - You’d think after last night we’d both be exhausted.

So you’re as awake as I am? 

Just can’t relax. I liked having you here last night. - He confesses. 

You roll over in the bedding onto your front and push the pillow under your chest before you keep texting - I liked it too. I’d come up except Iseul wouldn’t lay off guessing who I was with this morning. 

Oh? Did she guess correctly? - You can practically see the smirk on his face. 

Nope - You tease back. 

Was she upset? - He asks. 

At first, but I told her I would tell her soon I just needed some time - You reply. 

That’s good, honest. - His message makes you smile. 

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out. 

Fine…. stressing and acting like a hyung, you know - He says. 

You smile and type out another message - Is he keeping this to himself for now?

Yes - Yunho’s message comes in, and then another - For now, he knows we need to decide things first. 

That’s good - You send back. 

Things lull for a moment, and you try to think of something more to say, but Yunho swoops in with a question that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing - Who did Iseul guess you were with? Was I even on the list?

I thought you’d be happy she didn’t guess - You reply. 

Bubbles appear immediately, then another message - I’m a little offended, I’m the obvious choice.

Why’s that? - You tease him. 

You feel something warm in your chest, and his next message flies back - I thought I was your type? 

You stifle another laugh - You are, she’s not very observant.

So who did she guess? 

Your belly flip flops and you hide your face in the pillow for a moment. His obvious jealousy, even just to tease you, is making your heart quicken and you can’t stop yourself from making it harder on him. 

You take a breath and reply - About half the BB crew and a few of your managers.

The replies don’t come for a moment, and you nervously refresh the chat. 

Finally a message comes in - I’m trying to think of something funny to say, but I’m actually just irrationally jealous. 

She was just teasing, no need to be jealous - You smile into your hand. 

Doesn’t matter - He says - Now I’m just here alone wondering which of our coworkers Iseul thinks you have chemistry with

He is jealous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in your belly and press your legs a little tighter together. If you close your eyes you can feel the echo of his hands on you from last night, and all you want in the world is for him to come down here and kiss you hard like that again. 

With a slow exhale you return to your phone - Don’t be jealous, Yunho. We both know I’m yours.

Yeah? - His reply comes after a beat - No need to be jealous then.

Exactly - You reply. 

I bet you like it a little though - His message flies in as yours sends.

You feel warm all over and you run a nervous hand through your hair before replying - No, I don’t. 

Jagi, you forget I can feel how worked up you’re getting. 

Your stomach clenches, drops and twists. He’s going to be the death of you and you’re still just flirting.  

You work up the courage and finally send your reply - You’re the one that pinned me to the wall last night. 

I’ve been thinking about that all day - The message reply is fast. 

You smile and bite your lip, snuggling further into the mattress and trying to ignore the growing pulse between your thighs - You did seem distracted during rehearsals.

You feel warmth in your chest, and you know exactly how much your flirting is affecting him. Another text pings through and you shiver when you read it - How could I not be distracted with you there? All I could think about was the way you said my name last night. 

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

Or more whiny, was it? Yunho-ya? - You type it out fully, emphasizing the extended sound, knowing exactly what he wants to hear from the way he gripped you last night. 

The room is suddenly hot, and your heart beats faster to sync with his. 

It takes a moment for him to respond, bubbles popping up and then receding again and you wonder how he’s lying in bed. If he’s hard already, if he’s palming himself? You wonder if he sleeps naked when he’s alone and youre core clenches, arousal pooling in your gut and you know he can feel the threads of it. When he finally presses send on his message you have to cover your mouth to keep quiet. 

Feeling needy? Are you squirming around in that hotel bed wishing for me, sweetheart?

You feel that message from your top to your toes and you steal a fast glance at the bed next to you. Iseul is sound asleep, turned away from you and snoring softly, and you let out a relieved, shuddering breath. 

You could pump the brakes here, tease him and find a way to say goodnight, but you simply can’t. Need and arousal overwhelms you and you tap back your reply fast - I’ve been aching all day.

Do you have headphones? 

The question catches you off guard, but you write back - Yes, airpods.

Put them in - He says, and you swallow tightly, reaching for the little headphone case on your bedside table. 

Your fingers are shaking as you take them out of the case and put them in, making sure they’re connected before you reply - Done. 

His call lights up your phone, ringing in your headphones and you swipe to answer with a panicked glance at the bed next to you, but Iseul sleeps on, none the wiser. 

“y/n?” His voice is so rich and quiet, a little raspy edge after singing all night and you nearly moan. 

“Hi,” You whisper as soft as you can, “I can’t,” 

“Don’t talk,” He soothes you, “don’t wake Iseul up, I’ll talk to you and you can text me back, okay?” 

You minimize the call and open your chat back up, sending him a quick emoji to acknowledge his words. 

“Perfect,” He laughs softly, “this is way easier than texting. Listen, I know we said slow, but I’d love to help you relax if you want that. If not, I can just say goodnight, it’s up to you.” 

You exhale softly, a needy thrill in your gut - Let’s relax together. 

“Oh,” He sighs pleasantly, “yes, I’d love that.” 

You want me? - You ask. 

“You can feel how much I do,” He responds, “I’m sitting here convincing myself not to come downstairs and get my hands on you.” 

You hum softly, shifting in the sheets and relaxing deeper into the pillows. 

You hear his own breath, the way he parts his lips with a wet sound, “Can you tell me what position you’re in?” 

You tap out the reply - Lying on my front, on my stomach. 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased, “I bet you look so cute, all twisted up in the sheets and blushing,” 

I was tossing and turning. 

“I bet you were,” He groans a little, “I tried everything. I hit the gym, cold shower, did some deep breathing, but you have me so keyed up I can’t sleep,” 

You send him another emoji, the blushing face. 

He laughs, the rumble of it too deep and warm in your ear with your headphones in. 

You tap out another message - What position are you in? Trying to picture it. 

You hear him shift around in the sheets, “I’m on my back,” 

Wearing? 

He chuckles, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking what you’re wearing?” 

I asked you first.

“Fair,” He shifts again, and you picture him restless on his back in the bed you shared the night before, “just boxers,” 

A heavy sigh passes through your lips. 

“And you?” 

You wish it were sexier all of a sudden, but that just wouldn’t be practical in a room with your friend so you tell him honestly - Pajamas, the button down kind, they’re gray. 

“God, you’re adorable,” The covers on his end shift again, “wish you were up here with me.” 

Me too 

“This is probably better,” He says though, “I don’t think I could hold myself back for another night.” 

Me either - You confess. 

“y/n,” His voice warms, low in his chest, “jagiya, can I help you? Can I tell you what I want you to do?” 

Your hands are shaking and you type the reply so fast there’s a typo that you have to fix - Pfease - Please.

He chuckles, “Alright, get comfortable, just listen to my voice, okay?” 

You message him one last thought - What about you?

“I’m… I’m, uh,” He lets out a shaky breath, “I’m already stroking for you,” 

You press your lips together to keep from making a sound, dropping your forehead to the pillow in front of you. 

That’s so hot - You text him quickly when you hear him say your name, probably a little nervous he came on too strong. 

He hums, “Good,” he says, “then don’t worry about me, just listen to my voice.” 

You set your phone to the side, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows just like he asked for, sparing one more glance at Iseul to confirm she’s still completely out of it. 

“Comfy?” He asks when you stop shifting around. 

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper. 

“Good,” He sighs, “now slip one of your hands under your cute little pajamas, between your thighs.” 

You slide your arm down, tucking it under your body and into your sleep pants. 

“Under your panties too,” He says, his voice a little husky. 

“Mhm,” You murmur again, following his words. 

“Tease a little for me,” He instructs you, “not too fast, just your fingertips on the outside,” 

You breathe low and slow, gently passing the pads of your fingers over your slit, just barely ghosting against the hard nub of your clit. 

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” He groans a little and you hear the sound of sheets, “you make the cutest faces when you’re feeling good,” 

You make the tiniest noise of acknowledgement, fingers still brushing your cunt. 

“Can’t wait to see you fall apart for real,” He confesses, a strain in his tone as he sighs, and you picture him. His long legs spread wide in the bed, stretching from corner to corner, his boxer briefs pushed down and his hand fisting his cock. 

You’re going to lose it when you finally get to touch him again. 

“You can touch now,” He murmurs, getting your attention back, “are you wet?” 

You push your fingers through your folds and sigh when you feel just how slick and swollen you are. With your other hand you find the phone nearby and tap out a quick message - So wet

“That’s good, that’s so good,” 

Your fingers start to circle on your oversensitive nub and there’s no way he won’t have you coming in five minutes or less with it feeling this good and his heavy breath in your ear. 

“R-rub your clit for me,” He pants and your eyes roll, you can hear the sounds of the sheets rhythmically swishing as he pumps his cock harder, “get your fingers nice and wet,” 

You whimper into the pillow, biting down hard on your cheek to keep yourself in check. 

“Oh, fuck,” He groans, “sound so pretty,” 

You rub harder, faster, your legs stretching wide under the downy comforter to give you better access. 

“Baby,” He gets your attention with that, “push two fingers inside yourself, imagine I’m there with you,” 

You shift, hand slipping lower and body arching to slide your middle and ring finger as deep as they’ll go. You stay mostly quiet this time, but your breathing is heavy and you’re sure he can hear it. 

“Close your eyes,” He murmurs, “picture my fingers,” 

You gasp softly. 

“Grind,” He tells you, “grind your pussy on my palm and feel my fingers fucking you,” 

You bite back a moan, only the slip of a soft sound into the microphone as you start to rock, rolling your hips and working your clit against your hand as you sink into his fantasy. You always took him for soft, the romantic type who’d blush at saying the word ‘pussy’ let alone talking you through what’s bound to be the headiest orgasm of your life, but you’ve never been so happy to be wrong. 

“Yes,” Yunho moans and you shudder, “I can hear you moving, you’re doing so good,” 

Pleasurable stars burst behind your eyes and you grind harder into your slick palm. 

“So good,” He groans and you hear him roll in the bedding, his voice changing to something lower and breathier, and then the rhythmic rock of sheets from his side of the phone tells you all you need to know. You can almost see it, Yunho braced on his forearms, hips thrusting to drive his cock in and out of his hot fist, his face buried in the pillow you slept on the night before. 

Heat melts through you, your body alight, and you grapple to find the phone again - Close

“Already?” He says in a flushed exhale, “You’re so hot, that’s so hot,” 

You need him to talk to you, you need him to tell you what to do, and you whimper into the bedding as you work your body faster up to the peak. 

“You gonna come for me?” He murmurs, “Yeah? Hmm?” 

You drop the phone and press a hand over your lips, stifling the threat of a real moan. 

“Let go,” His voice is so low in your ear you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, “come for me,” 

Your legs are trembling, knees digging into the mattress and sweat gathered on your brow, and you feel the pressure start to crack open inside you, “Coming,” you whimper into your fingers so he knows, and then it breaks. 

“God, good girl, yes,” He groans, “I’m coming with you, fuck,” 

Your body curls into itself as you release, locking up in pleasure as you feel wave after wave of heat. You bite down on your knuckle to keep from making a sound, silently falling apart, dimly aware somewhere in your gut that half the heat you felt was his, that part of that pleasure was his own. 

Yunho moans in your ear as you ride the sensations, panting and cursing and you can’t wait to feel him pulsing inside you while he sounds this good. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover, but when your brain starts to connect again you realize you’re panting against the cool flat of the mattress and both your phone and pillow are nowhere to be found. You swallow hard and pop your head up, but Iseul hasn’t moved an inch and you thank god for her liberal use of melatonin while traveling. 

In your ear you register the sound of Yunho’s breath and the end of a sentence, “still there?” 

He must have been talking, and you try to focus in on the sound of him now as you slip your hand out from between your sticky thighs. 

He exhales slowly and you hear him shifting around, “y/n, baby, are you there?” 

 “Uh-huh,” You manage. 

“Sleepy?” He murmurs, misreading your sound, “That’s okay,” 

You make a tiny noise of protest and search the bed for your phone. 

“Baby?” He’s confused and you grin at his sleepy sated tone. 

Sliding off the bed onto nearly boneless legs, you find your pillow off to the side and your phone underneath. You snap it up and send a message quickly - Wait

“Wait?” He breathes, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here,” 

You tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as you can and then shut yourself behind the heavy door, flicking on the light and collapsing to sit on the closed toilet lid. 

You disconnect your earbuds and bring your phone to your ear, “Hey,” 

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, still a little breathless, “Hiding in the bathroom for a sec so I could actually talk to you,” 

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,” 

“Are you okay?” You find yourself asking, a little nervous tumble in your gut. 

“Me?” He says, “I’m incredible, you’re incredible,” 

“Yeah?” You draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around yourself and smiling into the phone. 

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” He checks, but you still hear the sound of him calling you ‘good girl’ and you shiver. 

“Not too much,” You sigh into the phone. 

“Good,” He hums, “I thought so, I was trying to pay attention to how you were feeling, but it was a little,”

“Hard to focus?” You offer and he laughs. 

“Yeah,” He sighs again, heavy and sated. 

“I can’t wait for this tour to be over,” You confess, “I just want to be with you,” 

You feel a pang in your chest and listen as Yunho rolls in the sheets, “I know, I want that too,” 

A little lump forms in your throat and you breathe through it, “Yunho,” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Have you ever felt like this before?” Your thundering heart has started to slow, and you let your eyes close as you murmur the question. 

“Never,” He murmurs, “but I felt this way before we touched,” 

You feel his tenderness wrap around your heart as if he were in the room with you, and with a small smile you whisper, “I thought you said you weren’t holding a candle?” 

“I lied,” He says softly, “it’s been you for a long time,” 

He doesn’t say it, not in so many words, but you feel the way he loves you through the link in a wave. It’s as good as any confession to you, just as honest if not more so. 

“I wish I could come upstairs,” You manage, tears pricking your eyes. 

You hear him swallow and breathe a slow breath through his nose, “Soon, I promise. We’re going to do this right,” 

“I know,” 

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,” 

“Put them back in and go get back in bed,” He softly instructs, “it’s late, but I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” You swap back over to your earbuds and adjust them. 

“Get back to bed,” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yunho,” You interrupt him, “thank you for staying with me,” 

“Always,” He says, and for the first time in your life when someone says they’ll be there, you believe it. 

“I’m going back out,” Your voice drops to a whisper, “good night,” 

“Mhm,” He listens as you slip back into bed, “just get comfortable, just breathe. I’m right here with you, jagiya, I’ll be right here.” 

He murmurs to you softly until your mind is sinking into darkness, body finally unspooling and letting you drop off into sleep. It’s not the same as his arms around you, but it settles you more than any meditation, his voice a steady whisper through your dreams. 

In the morning when you wake the call is still connected and the first sound you hear is his slow breath and the steady beat of his heart.

[eetherealgoddess]

TR: ꨄYANDERE ONE NIGHT STAND HEADCANONSꨄ

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Characters are 18+

❦Idc how bad you want it, do NOT wake up to these mfs❦

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Mikey: You didn’t expect to see a man lying next to you in your bed, let alone him being a friend of yours from childhood. You almost didn’t recognize him considering the black hair that’s falling down his back and shoulders. His body curved to the side as you stared in shock at the back of his head. You peeked over and almost cursed when you realized who he was.

You don’t remember the night before but picking the covers up and eyeing both of your naked bodies, you could only hope you had used protection. When you eased off of the bed, you snatched your clothes off the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed at the hoodie and sweats that indicate you hadn’t gone to a bar or club. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t figure out how running into each other would have resulted in the two of you in the same bed.

Once your clothes were on, you rushed to the door to avoid an awkward greeting. You wanted to see if your parents had made it home and noticed anything. Yes, you’re an adult but you still live under your parents roof and they never liked Mikey. They always thought of him as a bad influence which sucked for you because you actually had a little crush on him. They forbade him from the house and at some point made it a rule for you to not be friends anymore.

Having been young, you had to listen. They’re pretty strict so the tracking device prevented you from sneaking around. Honestly, you didn’t have many friendships because of your parents so you would only go to school, home, and occasionally the park. You only recently were allowed to have nights out as long as you paid attention in your college classes. You were scared that your parents would kick you out if they saw the display so you hurried out the door.

The putrid smell of the house slapped your face, a palm going over your nose as your eyes watered. You continue to walk through the hall to the living room, gasping when you see the corpses of your parents. You gagged up vomit, belching and coughing as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body trembles as you drop to your knees, eyeing their unrecognizable faces considering it looks as though their faces were beaten repeatedly, a large gash in the middle of their faces with blood puddling around them.

Having thrown on his black pants, he followed the wails that woke him up. His shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed over his bare chest, Mikey’s dark eyes gaze at you from the hall. He hadn’t meant for you to see such a gruesome scene. The pill he put in your drink two nights ago should’ve kept you asleep at least for a few days. He planned to take you home today considering he got carried away the nights before, libido high from the adrenaline rush he had from ridding both of you of the blockage that kept you two apart. He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you.

Jolting, you looked up at him from your kneeled position with wide eyes. He sets his hand on your head and crouches down.

“You’re gonna be good so I don’t have to knock you out, kay?” Hesitantly, you nod your head. He smiles softly before standing up and holding out a hand for you to take, helping you on your feet as you hold yourself up with shaky legs, gaze stuck on your deceased parents as you walk back to the bedroom.

Kazutora: You pant heavily as moans echoed throughout the room, bucking your hips up as your ex boyfriend’s thrusts meet yours. Your fingers grip his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock aiming deeper inside of your walls as he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot with each rutt. He moans into your ear as he nibbles and sucks your earlobe, one of his hands placed on top of your head as his other hand grips the cushion of the bed.

“Kazu, I’m gonna cum!” You whimper out as you grind harder against him, the head of his cock pounding against the erogenous zone that causes your hands to turn into fists as you throw your head back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches.

“Cum on this cock, baby.” His husky voice whispers against your ear as he continues the same pace, purposefully bringing you to an orgasm as you moan loudly, yelling a curse as you hold your hips in place. Suddenly, he pulls back and grabs a hold of your thighs, holding them up before thrusting at a faster pace, his hair draping over as he leans over, your hands gripping his shoulders once more as your mouth hangs open, feet next to your head.

The bed rocks as he roughly thrusts into you, cream oozing out of your pussy and dripping to your ass. You couldn’t help but release shaky moans as he used your pussy to bring himself to an orgasm. Your eyes widen as you watch his expression morph into the familiar look he makes when he’s about to cum.

“Pull out!” You yell as your eyebrows furrow from the overstimulation, hands moving to his chest.

“M’ gonna cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He moans out, panting as his hips become sloppier, his fingers squeezing your thighs tightly. You yank his hair back in an attempt to pull him out of you only for him to moan out as he thrusts his hips harder, his eyes fluttering closed as his mouth hangs open.

He pressed his cock deep inside you as you felt his seed shoot inside. Both of you moan out as he slowly grinds his orgasm out, you pressing your hips against him as you cream out another orgasm. He lays on top of you as he pushes himself inside you more, holding himself in place to make sure all of his semen has nowhere to go but inside your hole.

“No, no, no! Kazutora, I told you to pull out!” You smack his sweaty back as he breathes deeply against your neck.

“It’s fine.” You both grunt as he pushes inside of you more, his arms hugging around your head.

“No it’s not! Now you have to get me a plan b!”

He sits up as he chuckles before pulling his hips back and shoving into you again before beginning a slow pace. You bite your lip to hold back from moaning.

“Uh, uh. You’re gonna keep it and we’re going to raise it together.” He grins as he holds your legs back up.

“Are you crazy? I have a fiancé now! I can’t get pregnant!” He pins your arms above your head after you try to push him off.

“That’s too bad.” He says before thrusting at a faster pace. He breeds you over and over again the rest of the night, your pussy full of nothing but his sperm.

The next day, you bought a plan b, walking to your car after you left the store. Before you could get in your seat, you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a chest with a knife against your throat.

“Take it and I will slice your neck and kill your fiance after sending everyone in your family the video I took of us last night. Do you understand?” He says softly against your ear. You nod frantically as he takes the bag out of your hand. He pecks your cheek before releasing you.

“Glad we got back together, Y/n. It’ll be good for the baby.”

Ran: You wake up in a penthouse, the huge bedroom displaying a luxury you’ve never seen in person until last night. You were surprised that someone so loaded would go to a run down club such as the place you work at and choose you, a low class stripper, to spend the night with. You wouldn’t normally go home with anyone, but this man was charming and beautiful. You could tell he was expensive just by his demeanor and what he wore. You had no clue why he spotted you, gazing at you when he first walked in. When you made eye contact, you knew it would be a good night.

He made it worthwhile, treating you delicately, all the while pounding into you from behind as his nails left scratch marks all over you. Whispering soft words as he talked you through each orgasm while shoving his cock so hard that your skin smacked loudly against each other. His hold felt good against you, bodies molding together as you gripped the sheets of the bed, his sweat mixing with yours as he thrusts deeply inside of you.

“Work at my club.” He says while tracing your arm as you lie on his bare chest, the morning light seeping through the thin curtains as your legs are tangled together. You didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. Working at his club brought you more money, as well as high end living. You moved out of your grimy apartment to a luxury loft near his penthouse. One of his drivers would give you limitless rides to wherever you had ordered. You made connections and created a better life for yourself, with his help of course. You’re clearly the boss’s favorite, damn near living with him as he always brought you to his home at the end of a work night. Even on your off days you would end up at his place, waking up naked in his bed.

Whenever you had vip performances, there was a no touch policy for you specifically no matter the circumstances. As you rolled your hips against a stranger’s lap, he grabbed your ass and pulled you onto his covered bulge, bucking his hips against you. You yelp as you try to release yourself from the man’s grip, only for him to hold you down and groan. You curse at him before turning and back handing his face.

He shoves you to the ground, standing up from the seat as he hovers over you. He pulls his arm back, ready to land a punch to your cheek. A bang echoed through the room as blood splattered on your face and front body. The man’s headless body pauses before dropping limp on the ground, his jaw hanging as red covers him. You pant as your eyes stare wide at the corpse. Footsteps come towards you from behind as hands reach around your waist and pick you up from the floor.

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He says casually as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Still gazing at the body oozing blood, you nod your head with a trembling lip. He rubs your back as you both walk out. When you both lied in bed that night, you couldn’t get the man’s headless body out of your mind. Sure, he deserved something bad to happen to him, but the way Ran shot him so effortlessly was a little troubling for you. Regardless of the mixed feelings you held, you couldn’t help the side of you that was excited that a man like him protected you from danger.

“You no longer work at the club. You only work for me.” You were forced to move in with him for ‘your own safety,’ as well as giving all your personal details to him so he can take care of you completely. He paid for everything and even dressed you himself. He really molded you into his perfect doll. You couldn’t really get mad about the lack of freedom considering you had no more worries. In fact you were a little scared that he would give it all up once another stripper caught his eye.

“I could never replace my favorite doll.” With that sentence alone, your whole mindset changed. You realize that what you were receiving wasn’t real. Everything was to mold you into his little object. His toy. You don’t know why it hurt you as bad as it did, but you knew you had to leave.

The next day, you told him, “I think it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other. Our relationship is way past professional and I want my own life back.” He only stares at you as he sits on his office chair, stoic expression as his legs are crossed.

“You’re having a bad day. You should get some rest.” He states. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I’m serious. This needs to end right now.” He stands up from his seat, walking towards you before gently grabbing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Are you sure?” He questions. You nod your head, ignoring his affection no matter how bad you wanted it. He releases you before walking back to his seat. He sits down and props his legs on the desk. You froze when you turned to walk away, a gun cocking behind you. You turn your gaze to him in shock and fear.

“Why do you look so scared, Y/n? You wanted this to end, right?” His expression shows a sly smile, elbow resting on the table as he lazily points the gun at you. Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he leans over the desk, both elbows on the table, placing his feet on the ground.

“Or, were you mistaken?” You couldn’t move, your hairs standing up on your limbs as you breathed heavily. Your body is tense as you eye the barrel of the weapon.

“Were. You. Mistaken?” He reiterated, awaiting a response as his eyes narrowed.

“Y-yes, I made a mistake.” He nodded, “Mhm,” before setting his gun on the desk.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom for a nap.” He smiled as he waved you off.

Rin: You hadn’t expected the drunken night to go as good as it did. Having been broken up with the day of, you decided to go out and find a random person to take home. Of course, this isn’t something you usually do, but you need something, or someone to distract you.

You had initially walked into the club with your friends by your side, but after a few shots the whole night became blurred, you all losing each other in the process.

The alcohol saved you from the thoughts that wanted to race your mind, instead you searched the crowd for someone who would be the perfect fit for tonight. Coming across a purple mullet, you knew exactly who you wanted. You downed another shot before reaching the upstairs dance floor.

You didn’t really care about anything but getting this stranger in your pants so when you reached him, you tapped his shoulder. You almost change your mind, anxiety forming when you see how attractive he is, though the alcohol in your system keeps you from folding to your insecurities.

“You wanna get out of here?” You question, swallowing your pride as his intimidating gaze locks you in a chokehold. You perk up at his smirk.

“Sure.”

Excitement causes you to grab his arm and pull him out of the club. He informs you of his driver and you allow him to take you to his place. When you both get there, you immediately pounce on him. Your lips drunkenly move against his as his arms wrap around your waist before pulling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. You make out as he carries you to the couch and sits with you on his lap.

After a couple hours or so, you both ended up in his bedroom, blankets all over the bed as you grind your hips on his face. His hands grip your thighs as you rest your arms on the head board, head back as you groan out. He smacks your ass as he laps up your juices, sucking your clit before flicking it with his tongue. Orgasm after orgasm, you both sloppily give yourselves to one another.

When you woke up the next day, your phone continuously buzzed as a call interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you grabbed the phone and eyed the screen. You sigh once you see your ex’s name. Answering the phone you picked yourself up and used one of the blankets on the floor as a cover up. You glanced at the sleeping purple haired man and walked into his bathroom, closing the door behind you.

The conversation went with your ex manipulating the situation and you falling for it once more, a never ending cycle that you knew could end if you stopped fooling yourself. Hanging up and opening the bathroom door, you weren’t expecting to see Rin sitting up on the bed, half-naked as his body faces you with his feet planted to the ground. You greet him as you put your clothes on.

“Leaving to go back to your toxic ex?” One of your eyebrows raised at him.

“That’s none of your business. Can I please get a ride to my apartment?” He nods as he watches you walk out.

A week has passed and you and your ex are once again back on bad terms. You were on your way to his place to pick your stuff up so it wouldn’t get mixed up with the other women’s items considering he allows them to stay over. When you opened the door, your eyebrows furrowed at the dark living room. He just texted you so you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be waiting in the living space like he always does.

You gasp when you reach his bedroom doorway, his corpse lying on the floor with blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head, lifeless eyes wide open. You look at the culprit who sits on the bed facing away from you.

“What the fuck?” You breathe out, uncomfortable and terrified from the display. You could recognize the mullet from anywhere. He stands up from the bed with the gun still in hand.

“Let’s go.” He says, expecting you to follow as he walks past you. Because of the gun in his hand, you really didn’t have a choice but to follow if you didn’t want to end up like your ex.

Sanzu: You knew that even if you’re unhappy with your marriage, you probably shouldn’t have cheated. Honestly, it wasn’t anything planned but you really needed the drugs you had bought from the dealer you were recommended. Who knew that the one night stand would turn into an affair. Though there didn’t seem to be any emotional connection on your part nor did it seem like his, you couldn’t stop contacting him and yearning for the pink haired man in more ways than you should for a drug dealer.

You thought what you experienced was normal until you realized you might’ve caught feelings for your dealer. Unfortunately, when you confessed, you were answered with a blank expression as you both smoked weed in his car. You realized how stupid you were to have confessed to someone when you were married so you stopped buying from him. It wasn’t until he showed up at your house and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You continued to make out until you were on the sofa, riding his cock once more as you moaned out his name.

His hands gripping your hips as he thrusted into you from below. One of his hands moved behind your head and pulled you to his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your waist, aiming his cock deeper to keep hitting that spot that makes your thighs quake in his hold.

“Fuck.” He hissed as you rolled your hips harder, grunting as his grip tightened. “You sure you want this?”

“Uh huh.” You moan out as you nod, head falling back as the sound of your wet pussy squelches around his thick girth. When the sound of the front door clicks open, before you could turn your head around, Sanzu pulls his gun out from the pants that sat beside him and aims it for the intruder.

“No!” You gasp just as the shot rings out. A thud follows as you turn fully to eye your now dead husband.

“Oh my…!” Your head is forced to face Sanzu, the hand free of the gun holding the back of your head as the one holding the weapon wraps around your waist, his thrusts starting again as he purposefully aims deep into your pussy. You moan out as tears fall, the pleasure contrasting with the fear and guilt in your heart. He pulls your forehead against his as he continues to fuck into you.

“This is mine.” He aims the barrel of the gun on your pubis, finger against the trigger. You stare wide eyed into his crazed blue orbs. “Only mine, got it?” You nod as he removes the gun and replaces the arm back around your waist.

He continues until you both reach your orgasms, riding them out against each other as you lean your head on his shoulder, questioning everything that brought you to this point.

[coffee-blvck]

Soap pops an unexpected question 💍

Originally posted on my AO3 - coffeeblvck

“Marry me.” Nearly drowned out by gunfire, it takes a few moments for the words to settle in your ears. Half pleading, half a grunt, as Soap throws his back against the concrete barrier. Bullets rain above your heads.

When your thoughts finally catch up with one another, you're left staring at your partner. You must look like a deer in headlights, blinking as if trying to convince yourself you had actually heard him. “What??”

“Marry me. Right here, right now.” He breathes, twisting up and firing twice. You continue to stare dumbly. This had to be a joke. You're in the middle of battle right now, fighting for your lives. But his tongue is dripping with fierce honesty and you can't come up with any other reason. “Serious, Major. Marry me.”

Your body reacts before you can form a response, gripping fiercely at his collar and pulling him to you. Gunfire still peppers the air around you as you kiss him. It's hasty and you both jerk a little, pulsing with adrenaline and flinching against the onslaught of gunfire.

It's your turn to twist about, firing down a few loose ends breaking from their lines of defense, and as you turn back Soap is mirroring your elated grin. Checking your magazine, you shrug. “Okay.”

Neither of you bring it up again. When you're the last to make it back to the safe house, Ghost is the first to grill you and Soap on your recklessness, and for not responding to the comms after the fact. Price was at the ready, with Gaz at his side to lead a squadron to track you down. When Soap merely ducks his head and takes the scolding without argument, the team starts to question what really happened out on the field. Your sheepish grin doesn't help the matter as you depart to clean yourself up.

That night, draped together and still high with adrenaline, it comes up. “I was serious ya know,” He whispers against your neck, peppering the soft skin with his lips and hoping, praying, you were as serious as he was. He takes your fingers curling through his as a good sign.

You're so pretty, Soap thinks, bathed in the moonlight and wrapped against him. He wants to die this way. He could die a happy man even if this was his last memory.

“I was too.”

A beat of silence. Soap hoists himself onto an elbow, gazing down at you to be able to see your full face. To memorize the way your eyes glittered in the pale light, the smile that forced the dimples and lines into your cheeks. It was a little crooked, your smile, but he could swear he’d never seen any art as perfect.

“Say it again.”

“I'm serious, Johnny. I’ll marry you.” You kiss him, soft and quick and he can't help but pout as you pull away, falling back into the mattress.

“I love you.” He breathes. This was heaven, and he was the luckiest man on earth at this moment.

“You're dumb.” You laugh, pulling gently at his neck for another kiss. “I love you too, pretty boy.”

Price is the first to notice the pretty little gem on your finger and how his usually level headed medic can’t stop staring at it during that morning's debriefings. It had been a few weeks since the operation and the question, a long overdue moment of quiet for the entire Task Force. No one had really paid any mind to the way Soap kept his chest puffed when you were in the same room together.

“Is that what happened, Major?”

“Is what what happened?” You ask dumbly, attention pulled away from the little gem.

“That,” Price gestures with his cigar. “It's new.”

“I'm married.” You blurt out, a shy grin creeping across your features. You couldn't hide your excitement anymore. It hadn't been a secret, but neither you nor Soap had gone out of your way to spill the news either. Now with the ring around your finger, Soap had given it to you one early morning over coffee before training, you found your new reality hammering inside your chest, begging to be flaunted to someone, anyone who would listen.

“Come again?” Price was sure he had heard you correctly, but couldn't help but ask for you to repeat yourself. The task force was his family, and his heart swelled with pride that a piece of his family had found their happiness.

The grin on you only grows. “I'm married, Captain.”

“When…?”

“Johnny asked while we were clearing loose ends, before we made it back to the safe house. It was so fucking stupid. How could I say no?”

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.1 gojo satoru sent you a message

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 1.3k (short one to start off, but the rest are longer)

a/n. welcome to this pilot chapter! this was originally going to be a one-shot but i got way too carried away and ended up planning out a whole series. i hope you enjoy!

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 2:13AM Gojo Satoru has requested to follow you

You blink the sleepiness in your eyes away as the harsh light of your phone hits your face. Somewhere in the middle of the crazy dream you were having, you heard your phone incessantly pinging and eventually woke you up to make you realize you forgot to turn the ringer off before going to sleep. Among all the spam email, iCloud storage warnings, and news headliners, there was one notification in particular that had you wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Ugh…y/n, please, turn your phone off,” you heard your roommate Mina mumble in the twin sized bed at the other end of the room as she shuffled her pillow above her head so that it covered both of her ears. You glance out the window of your shared apartment, peering at the pale moonlight, before your tired and heavy eyes travel back to your phone and press on the Instagram notification.

Suspecting this was maybe some prank account, you clicked on the small icon in your inbox that took you to a profile page. Gojo Satoru, Senior at University of Tokyo, Business Major, D1 Soccer #10, SAE. 12k followers, 172 following, 38 posts. 

Still thinking you’re dreaming, you accept the follow request and watch as the number on his following increases by one, now 173. Your thumb swipes up on your phone as you take in the square images of his profile. Pictures of him and his friends recreating memes…food that he’s eaten recently…frequent vacation posts in exotic countries…and a whole lot of what seemed to be professionally taken soccer photos of him striking goals and hitting balls with his head in mid air. You have put a lot of effort into your own Instagram photos (despite your modest 464 followers), mostly posting compilation slideshows of your favorite film photos that you’ve taken recently, yet somehow his feed looks much more inviting than yours.

You turn onto your side and continue to look through his photos. 624 comments, 373 comments, 958 comments. Many were from his friends trying to embarrass him, and many others were from girls that probably wanted him to notice them. You noticed he only really replied to comments from his friends. 

You knew who he was, of course. Gojo Satoru was one of the most, if not the most, popular guys on your college campus. When you got to college, you thought the whole “social hierarchy” thing would be over but it still seemed like there were certain groups of people that almost everyone knew about, "elite" individuals who other students could only dream of associating with. At UTokyo, the fraternities and sororities practically owned the place so of course Gojo was well-known since he was a member of the school’s most iconic frat, SAE. Not to mention, the school adored its soccer team–undefeated since 2012–and Gojo Satoru was the most talented center forward the division has seen in years. 

But as for why he requested to follow you, a film major that doesn’t play any sports and isn’t even in a sorority, well you’re just not sure. 

It’s then when you get yet another notification. 

“Oh my god, y/n, turn it off!” Mina mumbles into her mattress. You click the side button to turn off the ringer. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru sent you a message 

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster as you quickly slide to your DMs page. You notice three unread conversations from a few of your friends, probably from when they decided to send you their entire explore page, and then you see a little (1) next to your message requests box. When you open it, you see his icon in your inbox. It’s a simple picture of him in his soccer jersey, his smile wide as one of his team members who was mostly cropped out of the photo seemed to be putting him in a headlock. You see the first few words of the message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weir…

You’re about to click on it when you stop yourself. It was really late at night and you didn’t know if you wanted to entertain a conversation with this man you knew literally nothing about (at least on a personal level) and weren’t even sure why he was messaging you in the first place. Plus, he would see that you’ve read it and so you would feel anxious to respond. But there was no way to see his full message unless you opened it. Even though you considered this to be weirdly intimate since it was a message sent at two in the morning, you figured that was probably normal for the likes of people like Gojo Satoru, who probably were out drinking and partying until five in the morning every night, regardless of any 8AM lectures or not. 

But unfortunately, curiosity always kills the cat (that’s the expression, right?) and so you click on his message. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weird…I don’t think we’ve ever met before, but my buddy’s really into your roommate, and he’s tried to invite her out to our frat’s house parties but he’s had no luck. Think you could convince her to come this weekend? You’re welcome to come too, of course

You blink in surprise before rolling your eyes, not entirely sure why you were expecting any different. Maybe Mina wasn’t budging on his friend’s advances because she wants to be asked out on an actual date, and not to some house party. But you figured frat guys wouldn’t really understand that. Besides, how did he know that you were her roommate? You’re just about to type a response when you see three little dots in the left side corner, indicating he was typing, and you hold your breath.

|| 2:27AM Gojo Satoru: Here are the details

And then he sends you a post from what looks like his fraternity’s Instagram page. There’s an address, a time, the name of the DJ and girls get in free bolded at the top. You realize you’ve never even been invited to a fraternity’s house party until this very moment. 

You briefly consider not responding to him and just setting your phone back down on your nightstand, rolling over, and falling asleep. But you find your fingers moving on their own to type.

|| 2:31AM You: you’re messaging me to help your friend get with my roommate?

There’s an uncomfortable two minutes where there’s no response from him and for some reason your anxiety is through the roof. You remember the countless times you’ve heard people describe Gojo Satoru in passing: there’s just something about him that demands your attention. 

His notification pops up at the top of the Instagram app when you were scrolling through reels to distract yourself and you accidentally clicked on it too fast. 

|| 2:33AM Gojo Satoru: Uh, yeah? 

You sigh as you ponder the proposition. You don’t even know for sure why Mina wasn’t really responding to his friend’s advances, maybe the guy was a creep or just not her type. And even if she was somewhat interested in him, she’s already refused to go to any of their frat’s house parties, so how would you be able to persuade her? 

You finally convince yourself you’ve had enough of Gojo’s messages for the night and you’ll choose whether or not you want to revisit the topic again in the morning, until another message flashes across your screen.

|| 2:38AM Gojo Satoru: What can I do to get you to convince her to come this weekend?

You bite down on your lip at his question, and an idea flashes through your mind.

|| 2:40AM You: i’ll find a way to convince her. my terms and conditions will come later

He responds in a second.

|| 2:40AM Gojo Satoru: Deal 

a/n. dude literally slid into your DMs lol. thank you for reading! i also post this story over on AO3, if you're more into that format, but i just wanted to start posting over here on tumblr too. hope to see you in the next one!

➸ take me to chapter two!

[buzzinrusso]

Please Don't leave pt.2

(Light at the end of the tunnel)

Summary: where ingrid and mapi try to mend the forces , leading alexia to explain herself to you.

Contains: angst ,fluff ,polyamory and a little suggestive at the end

Word count : 1.3k

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions .

You cried about it. You sobbed and cried, but eventually accepted the fact that you weren't enough for them .

Your manager was contacting multiple teams for your "loan" that you were hoping to turn into a full transfer. The teams interested were Manchester City ,Arsenal , Real Madrid, and Chelsea , along with a few other European teams .

Today , you had a meeting with the team manager to actually talk about if you really wanted to transfer.

Your plans were deranged when a fan account posted about your possible transfer from Barcelona to Manchester .

Word got around quickly, and surely enough,your teammate started flooding your messages ,questions you throughly in the team group chat.

You decided to just ignore them and talk it over at practice.

So , you got up ,went into the shower whilenoncall with your best friend from back home ,telling her about your situation.

This led to her talking and intense amount of shit about the girls and telling you that she was there for you.

A few hours later

You arrived at practice with the intention to ignore everyone .

You parked your car at your designated parking spot and went to the trunk of your car to get your bag .

When you walked into the training ground ,you were greeted by the media woman asking you what your phone wallpaper was ,you quickly showed it to her ,telling her that I was a picture of you and your bestfried ,alya,from back home after your graduation.

You sighed and then continued your way to practice ,making sure that it was a normal ,civil, and calm day ,avoiding anyone and everyone who tried to mention that rumours about your transfer .

Until patri came up to you in the middle of practice and started interrogating you about the post , which led pina to start questioning you too while the while team listened in ,especially two girls who were hoping that the rumours were not true.

"For the last time, Claudia, I'm not telling you anything right now ." You rolled your eyes at the girl for what felt like the 100th time today and walked away .

You marched into the locker room with full intention of packing your bag and rescheduling your meeting until a certain blonde walked in with an unrecognisable look on her face.

"Why are you leaving ?" The captain asks .

"None of your business, alexia." You snapped at her .

"I know something is wrong." You went quiet ."You can talk to me, nena."

You let out a loud scoff ," I clearly can't," you said while rolling your eyes at the captain as you got up to storm away .

"Come o-" you immediately cut her off with a yell ."Just stop ,alexia! I heard what you said at the team bonding night ,so you can stop pretending and say what you have to say to my face instead of talking ahit behind my back!" You borderline yelled at your captain and stormed out of the room with your training bag in hand.

Later that evening, a knock sounded at your door ,you swung the door open with annoyance painted on your face only to be met with the only two people you didn't want to talk to at all.

You rolled your eyes at them before trying to close the door only to be stopped by the one and only ingrid engen who shoved her foot between them and the door.

"We need to talk." Maria said as she walked into your apartment. "Please don't leave ,cari"

"Oh ,I think we're done talking." You exclaimed."I think the way you laughed at me when alexia was joking was enough talk for me."

"Wait ,wha-"

"You can save it .you know, I actually thought that you guys liked me . It was so obvious that I had the biggest crush on you guys ,and you were always - what I thought was - flirting with me .and I really liked you guys up until I heard you guys laughing at some cruel joke about me." Tears were starting to prick up in your eyes as they stinger them, but you kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

Mapi eventually stopped your rant ."Look,cari, what you walked in on was not what you think it was . It's actually a really fucked up miscommunication about a really embarrassing conversation. We were talking about football .we were talking about the double tackle we did on Monday, and it turned into sex talk about tops and bottoms, and alexia was claiming that ..."

"Claiming what?"

"She was claiming that we would top you..." ingrid said in a hushed whishper as embarrassment flooded her body.

A moment of silence passes .it was a minute ,then two ,and then your laughter filled the air .

You were full on crying of laughter as mapi and ingrid just stared at you in confusion .

"What the fuck" you said in between breaths while still wheezing from laughter ."God, this is so ridiculous. "

"Are you still going to leave Barcelona?" Mapi asked.

"Ugh,I don't know .I've been in contact with a few teams, but I can pull out of it anytime before next week.".

"Can we get you not to leave?" Ingrid questioned

"I would take a lot of stuff for me not to go." You said truthfully .

"Stuff like this..?" You looked at the raven haired girl confused until she pulled you in and planted her lips on yours .

The kiss was electric , passionate, and perfect. Her soft lips moved against yours in the most glamorous way ever ,like you guys were meant to be.

It's only when you hear mapi whine that you moved back away from ingrid and then pulled into another kiss from Maria.

Her lips were like candy on yours as you easily melted into a rhythm with her .She moved her lips just right and snuck her tongue into your mouth while pulling you over her lap .

You pulled away for a breath of air but then got quickly pulled back in as ingrid started gently kissing your neck.

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Sorry that this one is a bit of a short one ! Next chapter will be about 5k words of just fluff and smut ;)

Tags :@marvelwomen-simp , @iamagoddess1

[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're Matt Murdock's neighbor, and one night he hears you pray.

Words: Under 1k

A/N: I just be posting anything now lol wrote this in my notes app hope you like it!!!

The building was quiet most of the time, but unfortunately for Matt Murdock, that wasn't the case, ever. Most people couldn't hear apartments three doors down and the conversations that went on in them. But Matt could. And he could never avoid them.

He distracted himself from the outside noise with menial chores–cleaning whatever dishes were left in the sink, reorganizing glasses in the cabinet, and practicing his fighting. But when dusting and cleaning wasn't enough, when even the music he played couldn't drown out the noise, he tended to listen to a particular apartment: hers.

She lived alone. Right across the hall, diagonal from his own door. Of all the apartments he was forced to listen to day in and day out, hers was the most peaceful. The quietest. She didn't have loud conversations with anyone, she didn't have a dog who would bark in the middle of the night. Instead, she had a teapot on the stove that would whistle when ready; she spent most nights quietly flipping through pages of a book. She got up to that annoying phone alarm and trotted to the bathroom to get ready for work. Matt's not sure what she does, but sometimes he hears her come home late when he's about to get ready to patrol the streets as Daredevil.

Matt realized going over this in his head was a little more than creepy and trod the thin line of being a stalker, but his heightened senses and what they picked up on were unavoidable. The times he couldn't focus on anything else or tune out the other noises in the apartment he focused on hers because it was the most calming to his senses.

He's only run into her a handful of times on the rare occasion they both leave for work in the morning. One time, they both exited their apartments at the same time. She quietly waved good morning until she realized she waved at a blind man and then uttered a more audible "good morning." Most people would ignore the realization and awkwardly go about their day, but not her. She always made sure to say good morning from then on. Matt liked that–no, liked you.

Matt found himself eager to get home after work more often than not, in hopes of coming home at the same time as her. Anything to get a small interaction would be enough for him. Even if it was as small as her holding the door for him or wishing him a good night. He looked forward to these small interactions so much that if they didn't happen, Matt would have a much less than good day.

One night, though, when he was just about to let himself fall asleep after a rather rough night patrolling Hell's Kitchen, he heard her. He heard her in a way he hadn't before. From the hiccups, to the shaky breaths, and the lingering taste of salt in the air, he knew she was crying.

Matt shot up in bed as he began to listen more intently–what happened?

"Please, God," he heard her whispered prayer, "Please make sure I make it home safe and unharmed from work. Please. There's so much violence in this city and I'm scared to walk alone at night."

Matt took a shaky breath, gripping his silk sheets in his hands. She was scared, he confirmed. Well, rest assured, he thought. Tomorrow night, he would make sure she arrived home safely from work himself.

TO BE CONTINUED??? IDK.

[nathaslosthershit]

The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

[jooqlz]

[qrrieterisunnq]

Midnight snack - Luke Hughes

luke!hughes x fem!reader Summary: y/n getting up in the middle of the night to make a snack and accidentally waking up Luke because they didn’t stop the microwave’s obnoxious beeping in time. request: yes/no A/N: Hi! We have here a new fic a short one, this time with Luke. I hope you'll like it. And because we have reached the 100 followers milestone I decided to make an AU with Jack!! I'll post the introduction with the fem!reader on saturday so keep an eye on it! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif not mine word count: 0,86K warning(s): weird food cravings, sleepy Luke, moody y/n because of cramps

masterlist | wip's

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for a whole hour. Your stomach has been making weird noises for the past ten minutes, but you’re too lazy to get up. And another thing is Luke’s arm lying across your stomach.

You know how clumsy you can be, and if you’d try to remove his hand you would probably wake him up, but with your rumbling stomach, there is no other option.

Slowly, you take ahold of his hand, moving it in slow motions down your body, until it drops down on the bed. Luke let out a quiet snort as he turned on his back, placing his head over his eyes.

You let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t wake him. You walk over to the circle armchair where is lying your nightrobe. You slip your hands in the holes and tie it around your waist.

You make sure Luke is still asleep before you leave the room with a quiet click as you close the door. With quick but quiet steps you almost run into the kitchen while your stomach still makes the weird noises.

As soon as you’re in the kitchen, your eyes immediately wander to the pancakes you had for dinner.

You take the plate and place it on the table, you take one of the pancakes in hand and take a bite. You walk over to the fridge and pull out whipped cream, pickles, and Nutella.

Yeah, weird combination, but your period is supposed to come in two days. As you’re eating the pickles, you get a terrible taste for cacao. You pull out the milk and pour it into the biggest mug you have. You put it in the microwave for a minute so it’s warm enough. As the time counts down, you pull out the cacao and place it next to your food as you put some Nutella on the pancakes and place pickles on it.

You’re so distracted by the food you completely forget about the milk in the microwave until the last two seconds are on and the annoying beeping sounds through your apartment.

“Shit!” you let out as you run to the microwave trying to turn off the sound. “C’mon!” you groan when the sound goes on. When you finally turn it off, two strong hands wrap around you, making you let out a squeak.

“Hey, calm down, ‘s just me,” Luke whispers in your ear in a sleepy voice, kissing your neck.

“I’m sorry, I woke you up,” you sigh and pull out the warm milk. “I didn’t mean to.”

“‘S okay, but what are you doing here?” he looks around and you cock your brow as if it wasn’t obvious. He let out a laugh at your reaction unwrapping his arms from you.

“Very unique food cravings,” he points out to your pancakes. You just shrug and walk over to the table to continue with your snack.

“You want some?” you reach your hand with your food towards him. He shakes his head as he yawns, guilt forming in your chest. Luke has early morning practice today, yet he’s here with you because you woke him up. If it wasn’t up to your food cravings, he’d be still sleeping.

Luke must have noticed the change in your mood, ‘cause you to put the pancake back on the plate, chewing slowly.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” he whispers as he pulls you in a hug.

“Nothing.” you shake your head forcing a small smile to form on your lips.

“Hey, I know you,” he cocks his brow. “So tell me, what’s wrong?”

“I…just…you have morning practice,” I sigh when I see his confused look. “You have early morning practice yet you’re here, because I woke you up, just because of my weird cravings. You’ll be tired and just because of me.”

“Hey, ‘s okay. I don’t mind I’m here. You know I’ve told you multiple times that you can wake me whenever you want if you need anything.” he says kissing the top of your head.

“But it’s not okay. I don’t want to be the one, who you are tired because of.” I mumble a tear sliding down my cheek. Jesus, stupid hormones. I wipe it quickly away but more and more starts sliding down.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. Don’t cry, my love. I promise I’m not tired. And even if I’ll be, I don’t care, you’re my priority. Always,” he bends down kissing your lips. “I don’t care if you wake me up at midnight that you’re craving hamburger or whatever. I don’t care if you wake me two hours before my alarm, that you need pads. I’ll get up and get you whatever you want. I just want you to be happy and alright.” he smiles down at you.

You nod and pull away from him, to take the pancake you were eating. He laughs at you and takes one himself. He squirts some whipped cream on it and with a full spoon of Nutella he starts eating.

“I love you,” you mumble with full mouth. A smile forms on his lips as he nods.

“I love you too, baby.”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

“In your eyes.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

The truth can easily be seen in the eyes of the person you love. That night, Daryl saw in your eyes how much you love him. But the next day after Aiden tried to attack you, Daryl knew who was responsible for the cut on your lip without you saying his name.

A/N: Hi! My name is Vi, and I made a page for Daryl a while ago, but for personal reasons I couldn't continue, but I'm back and I'd like to keep writing about him, so I hope you like what I'm going to post everytime i have the time (: Thanks in advance. Requests are open just in case hehe

With just a candle on the night table, fighting the darkness of the room, Daryl was lying down on the bed of blue blankets in the middle of white walls, and you sitting there, admiring the still new place. It was small but cozy, with a grey carpet that covered the entire place, a desk in front of you and a window behind it that let you watch the night landscape of trees, houses, and fake realities. The apocalypse took your family, your friends, your normal life, and the simplest fears that people used to have in the old world; but in that new one, Alexandria took your guns, and you feared that they might take your courage too.

“Hey…” Daryl said softly, his hand caressing your back. “Come ‘ere.”

But you were just tired, hoping that it was only physically, and you lay down on the bed next to him, with his arm as a pillow and his blue eyes as a reminder that no matter what happened, everything would be fine as long as you were together. He looked at you in a calm and deep way, with eyes that could tell everything because he wasn’t good at talking.

“I’m okay. I’m just tired.”

You closed your eyes, feeling that his blue eyes were still on you, looking at you with adoration, just the same way he always did. He pushed your hair behind your ear, admiring your strength, your beauty and the way only you could make him feel like a real person. He was shy beyond his hard personality, clumsy to express his feeling beyond his easy way to respond to whoever offended him and you. He exposed himself to you as a true person, good and bad, but you loved him sincerely. Daryl leaned forward and kissed your lips softly, and then he pulled away a little, watching you open your eyes as you held a soft smile.

“What was that for?”

Daryl looked at you.

“Cause I wanted to.”

He kissed you again, softly. You took his face in your hand, pulling him closer, and he kissed your parted lips to then slide his tongue inside your mouth. You two had hot, deep kisses before, but the candle on the table wrapped you both in a private, warm place. The union, the friendship, and the trust you had in each other since the beginning what was led you to get marry, to seal the commitment that existed between you two from the moment you met, but you hadn’t made love yet. Not in the middle of a cold world that never gave you the chance to do it. He wanted to be special for you, and for him, because before you, Daryl had never considered the idea of ​​making love with someone.

His hand slid under your t-shirt, stroking your soft skin with cold finger that made you shiver.

And he pulled away.

“Is that okay?” He whispered.

“It’s okay, it’s just…” You bit your lips. “Tara and Carol are in the other rooms.”

He frowned in confusion.

“So?”

“I don’t want them to hear us.”

For your surprise, Daryl chuckled. He wasn’t used to doing that, but when he did, his eyes became soft, and he started kissing you behind your ear.

“What if they hear ya moanin’ ma name? What if they hear ya beggin’ for more?”

Daryl removed his arm under you and moved to be on top of you, but without touching your body.

“What?” You chuckled, just to pretend his eyes didn’t have an effect on you.

“I love ya.” He said, and his words took you off guard while leaned down to kiss your neck with his warm mouth. “And I’m gonna make love to ya, sunshine.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach and the tingle in between your legs when he lowered to the level of your belly. His hot breath made you hold yours as his beard tickled your skin when he started kissing you. His hands slid over your back, pushing you up slightly. His timid personality disappeared like a shadow at night, leaving only the strong hunter that touched you gently. And that night, you gave him everything without any regrets.

You walked down the street, watching again the still unreal picture in front of you. That place was like a bubble in which all those people lived in: but separated from the truth, absent from danger, from the cruel reality on the other side of their walls. They had warm beds and water, nice houses, electricity: but it was too perfect.

It was like nothing happened to the world, and you didn’t know if pretending until to get used to that life was a good idea… although it was the only one you had now. But maybe you were just too used to danger and there, it was none.

Just one of the two doors in the Monroe family garage was open, and you took a step inside where the son, Aiden, was leaning over a car with the hood open. You cleared your throat to attract his attention and he tilted his head to the side to look at you standing there, with your hands in the pockets of your jeans and a gentle smile on your face.

“Hi.” You said while he straightened. “I’m (y/n). Your mom sent me to talk to you about the runs. She says you’re in charge.”

“I’m the man.” He smiled walking to you as he extended his hand. “Aiden Monroe.”

You smiled with courtesy taking it.

“(Y/n) Dixon.”

His eyes widened a little, with surprise.

“You are Dixon’s wife?”

You tilted your head to the side, looking at him with a mocking expression after having heard that before, several times.

“Everyone has the same expression you just did.”

He smiled, hiding beneath his attractive features the face of a demon.

“I’m sorry, but… are not you afraid of him? It’s just… he’s so… he looks so rude… and you so-” But he chuckled, like a good kid. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend your husband.”

“You didn’t.” You shook your hand to push that thought aside. The boy in front of you ignored as the strangers who Daryl really was, and you didn’t want to waste your time trying to explain something he wouldn’t understand. “So… Are we gonna talk about what is my role in this?”

“A beauty like you should stay at home, but…” He smiled walking again to his car. “Basically I just have to teach you and your friends to evade walkers, find the necessary supplements and go home.”

That sounded as easy as breathing… in theory, but you didn’t want to argue about his lack of awareness out there.

“Okay.” You said turning around to leave but his hand closed around your wrist. You looked back, frowning in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m really sorry for calling you a beauty… I mean… you are really beautiful but that sounded like if I was calling you weak.”

His grip on your wrist was far from gentle, like the claw of a beast. You looked him in the eye like someone who doesn’t fear a dangerous animal, and you kept calm when you spoke.

“Yeah. No problem. I’m sure you didn’t mean to say that.”

“Of course I didn’t.” He smiled stepping a little closer to you. “You are a beauty, however. That Dixon is very lucky. Would you tell me how he got a woman like you? You’re so hot… and those eyes–”

“Hey.” You separated even though he didn’t let you go. “I really recommend you to think about what you’re doing right now.”

Your calm but defiant voice lit him like fire. The strength and bravery behind your eyes fixed on him was a danger he seemed to enjoy.

“Relax, honey, I’m not doing anything to you... yet.”

You felt the beating of your heart in your throat.

“Can you let me go? I need to go home.”

“With your husband?” He smirked. “With that man who seems to have come out from a cave? Are you sure he doesn’t hit you or something? Maybe I should check your body just in case.”

His other hand tried to hold the edge of your black t-shirt, but you pushed his hand away from your body with a sharp push. Your rejection made his eyes darken, even darker than the rotten blood of a walker, and he pushed you against the garage door. The hard wood hit your back and your head, sending a pointed pain through your body.

You hissed through clenched teeth, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that it hurt you.

“Why don’t you try to scream for help, honey?” His body pressed against yours. “I’m sure your prince will come instantly to save you.”

You looked into his eyes; his true self emerged behind that flirtatious smile, more dangerous than a walker.

“I don’t need no one to save me from a beast like you.”

You tensed your free arm and hit him hard in the stomach. Aiden pulled away from you, expelling all the air in his body, but even in pain, he raised his arm and slapped you with the back of his hand. Your face flew to the side, squeezing your eyes as you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. Blood.

“Stupid bitch…” He pushed you roughly to the ground, your hands scraping against the cement to protect you from hitting the floor too hard. “Welcome to Alexandria, baby.” Aiden knelt in front of you, where you looked into his eyes through your inner rage. “Be careful with what you tell the others, because you, your husband and your whole pack could leave today.”

Aiden walked out of the garage into the sun as if he was the king of the world. You licked your lip and you knew there was a cut there, and you contemplated your whole life from the floor: Loneliness when your parents died to save you, fear, anger, the times you thought you would die, and your big desire to live. But this guy with an angel smile, a dictator complex and an ego about to explode thought foolishly that he could ruin you as if you were nothing.

You chuckled feeling free in that world that caught you under its shadow and you got up to walk out of that place. You saw Aiden walking down the street, walking with the freedom of someone who lived safely in a small bubble of protection and lies. You didn’t stop waking, you didn’t see Daryl and Rick walking a distance behind you, neither his mom talking to a couple, or your family in the porch of the house you all shared, nor some neighbors on their own porches enjoying the day while your heart was beating fast in your chest. Your true courage rose as you approached him from behind, and the strength within you gathered in your clenched fist.

“Hey, asshole!”

Aiden turned unsuspecting, and with a force more than just physical, you punched him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, scratching his hands against the cement just like you did before, the blood coming out of his nose and lip.

“You bitch!” He yelled getting up, ready to hit you again, but just then, Daryl passed you by and he tackled Aiden to the ground.

Everything else went quickly and was blurry. Aiden’s mother shouted to leave his son, your friends and neighbors approached while Rick grabbed Daryl to stop hitting Aiden, but Daryl pushed Rick with a jolt.

“Daryl, stop!” Rick held Daryl from the shoulders and he used all his strength to pull him back and out of Aiden.

Rick stood in front of him, following his movements as Daryl moved from side to side like a lion in a cage watching his prey through the bars.

“(Y/n)?” Maggie asked in surprise. “What happened to your face?”

That was the moment when Daryl noticed the cut on your lip, red and bright under the sun, which only made him got furious even more. He tried to jump over Aiden again, who was already standing next to his mother, but Rick held Daryl back.

He knew it. Daryl just knew who did that to you.

“I will fuckin’ kill ya, bastard!” He yelled in anger, trying to push Rick out of his way. “I will break yer fuckin’ hands for touchin’ ma wife!”

For a moment, you thought that your group really would have to leave.

The same night, the wind blew gently like a good omen, but Daryl was still out of control, walking from here to there in the porch, cursing under his breath. You saw the wounds in your hand, red and bruised by the fall, your body felt heavy from the blow against the door, but your spirit could not feel lighter than a feather.

“It was a good punch, right?” You chuckled and that made him stop. That was the only way he was separated for a second from his thoughts. “My grandfather taught me to strike a punch without hurting my knuckles. My parents never liked it.”

Daryl watched you with his confused blue eyes that still wanted to see Aiden walk down the street just to have the opportunity to kill him. You were strong before his eyes, but seeing you hurt made him feel hurt, and so furious too. Daryl couldn’t believe you were so calm about that, but he could see in your eyes that that meeting with Aiden wouldn’t let you sleep that night, neither to him. You were so innocent to believe that there was no danger there.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms to him. “You need a hug.”

He was surprised to hear you say he needed a hug, but Daryl walked towards you, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Yer such a badass.” He tried to chuckled, but he hid his face in your neck. “M'sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” You whispered stroking his hair. “It’s not your fault.”

A couple of minutes later you pulled away and you two just stayed there, face to face. Daryl held your left hand, softly. Despite the anger he felt, he was kind to you, and he kissed your knuckles where your wedding ring was. But Daryl saw in your eyes that you were going to be okay, and that was the only truth he needed for him to be okay, too.

[evillysilly]

2 | monster under the milkman's bed.

content warning: nsfw (lewd), porn with minimal to no plot, sex on the floor, sub francis (as usual), doppelganger (WITH TENTACLES!) male reader

a/n: my friends helped me out with this big special thanks to them 💜 also shout out to that one person who was the only person that reblogged my first post LOLL

(,,> ᴗ <,,) , (๑/////๑ " ) , (≧ヮ≦) 💕

Francis was starting to think he was having really bad hallucinations, he's been checking under his bed every night, before he goes to sleep, because, he swore he saw tentacles under his bed, peeking out, like it was teasing him. He would also hear growls and grumbles underneath him when he tries to sleep, this was one of the reasons why he's been having lack of sleep.

he was getting more and more on edge, every damn night he would hear those noises, but when he checks, there's always nothing. he hopes to god— if there even is one— that he would finally catch this monster under his bed. he doesn't believe that he's going insane at all, i mean— if doppelgangers exist in this world why wouldn't monsters under beds exist as well?

well, after a few restless nights, Francis finally drifted off to sleep..

but what he didn't expect was a wet dream to happen.

a wet dream, a wet dream about the damn monster under his bed.

it was.. so vivid. the tentacles were teasing him, deliberately stroking his skin, undressing his pants, playing with the bulge that was being covered by his boxers, Francis couldn't help but felt himself harden even more from the touch.. maybe, just maybe, he has a thing for tentacles.

because the next thing he knew after waking up, he sat up on his bed with pearls of sweat trickling down his temple, he felt something weird, something wet underneath on what he's sitting on.

he pulled his blanket off, revealing his sheets wet by his morning glory (or well.. morning wood!), he looks at it in disbelief, breathing heavily. he runs his fingers through his hair, sighing and getting off the bed, he has to get rid of the sheets and wash them now, even when it's in the middle of the night, he just didn't really expect this to happen. it was.. weird. why would he dream of a monster under his bed doing those despicable things to him?

just remembering it made him shudder, he hastily takes the sheets off the mattress, wanting this to get over with. what the poor milkman didn't know, that you were watching him, and you were ready to finally expose yourself to him.

before Francis could even react, you pounced yourself on him, pinning him on the floor, as Francis finally realizes what was going on, he lets out a gasp, looking at you.

you looked human enough, but the only thing that caught him off guard was how you lunged at him, your teeth are razor sharp, and are those.. tentacles?

the. the same tentacles he's been seeing the past few nights? those tentacles are attached to your back. could it be? well, it does make sense. but why? why were you under his bed?

one of your tentacles gripped the milkman's throat, making him choke out another gasp before letting out choked noises.

"be quiet." you sneered at him, your hands were against the floor at either side of Francis' head, leaning close to him. you were so close to him, so fucking close, it was making him slightly dizzy.

as your tentacle loosen its grip on the milkman, you looked down to Francis' crotch, making him squirm under you. you hummed in amusement, looking at the tent in his currently tight boxers.

"what's this?" you tilt your head, one of your tentacles slithering towards it to touch it, making Francis bite his lip, trying his best not to let out a mewl growing in his throat.

you couldn't care less about that at the moment, you were curious with what's up with this human's body, the same tentacle continues rubbing against the bulge as it pulls the boxers down, displaying the hardened cock that Francis has, looks like it was already leaking with pre. interesting.

you never knew that humans can go through such things as this, but it was amusing, it made you wanna go further, your tentacles pulling his boxers all the way down as one of them teasingly places its tip inside the human's hole.

the tentacle on Francis' neck seemed to let go completely, joining in with the other tentacles, you could hear Francis let out a soft moan, his hips bucking, you could feel how desperate the human is, which made you smile even more.

a tentacle wraps itself around Francis' shaft, slowly stroking it as the other tentacle that was placing its tip in him finally plunges inside without any warning, making Francis yelp, his body shivering and his back involuntarily arching to your touch. "mm.. nghn- p- please... mm..." his voice was hoarse and weak, making you smirk even more.

"don't worry, I'm just trying to get used to this." you soothingly said, your strokes slowly increasing its pace, same with the tentacle thrusting in and out of Francis. "mm.. oh- agh- mmn..." those whimpers, it made you crave for more of those noises.

you grit your teeth, another tentacle was shoved inside him, letting another noise out of him, the tentacles inside him immediately found those bundle of nerves that has pleasure hastening for his cock, more pre-cum leaking out of his slit as you thumb it, making him let out a cry even louder.

"you're really cute like this." you utter, continuing your relentless torment on him, you could feel your tentacles hitting the milkman's prostate nonstop, more moans and cries spilling out from him. "'mmn- I- I'mm..!" he couldn't even continue his jumbled of words, for it was cut off by his own cry, his body shaking uncontrollably, his cock shooting ropes of cum all over you and the tentacle that was wrapped around it.

you let out a chuckle at the sight, your tentacles pulling out as the other one was slowly milking him dry, you couldn't help but wanted to taste him, so you did, the cum-coated tentacle going inside your mouth, tasting Francis with a hum.

as Francis watched, he lets out a whine, his chest going up and down, body still shaking as his muscles relaxes a bit. the tentacle pulled away as more showed up behind you, looking at Francis with a cruel smile.

"don't think we're done yet, human."

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Changed Woman - Chris Sturniolo

Babydaddy!Chris - Positive - Mama - Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls Pairings - Babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Your babydaddy, Chris, comforts you after morning sickness continues to kick your ass. Warnings - established relationship, pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness, mentions of vomiting, sassy Nick, lil fluff Word Count - 1950 Authors Note - I knoww it's short but it would've been way too long if I didn't break it up. With that being said, another part will be out soon! I hope everyone enjoys! ���🏻 Also I made my own dividers, feel free to use! The own used in this post is also mine🫣 (not proofread yet) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love

Clutching the countertop in a death drip, you suck in a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself. Recently hitting ten weeks a few days ago, your morning sickness had been kicking your ass ever since you found out you were pregnant. ‘Morning’ sickness was a horrible term because it lasted all day and night for you. Half of the things you ate your baby didn’t agree with, even if you craved it for days on end. Throwing up sporadically throughout the day made your body exhausted and achy from all the heaving. Currently in the family bathroom of a local Chili’s, you were trying your absolute hardest to pull yourself together, mainly because you were out to eat with Chris, Nick, and Matt. 

Chris made you vow to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell them, but you knew time was ticking. With your small bump getting bigger by the day, the secret was getting harder to keep. You wore baggy clothes to keep the growing bump concealed but you could only do so much, you were a pro at hiding the fact you were running to the bathroom every 30 minutes to either pee or puke. The boys were starting to catch on, and both you and Chris knew it. There had been a few times where you stumbled out of bed in the middle of the night, rushing the bathroom the boys shared to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, forgetting to shut the door behind you which gave Matt the perfect view when he’d walk out of his bedroom. Matt would rush to Chris’s room every time, waking him up to tell him what was going on, but he’d never ask questions, always assuming you were just sick. Nick was too observant, when he noticed your sense of fashion went out the window, he began to ask questions and make teasing comments - “well don’t you look bummy today,” and “why’re always in one of Chris’s hoodies? You have one on like every day.” On most occasions, Chris would be by your side to defend you by saying a quick-witted comeback like - “My girlfriend can’t wear my hoodies?” or “so what? She’s comfy.” Other times, you were left to defend yourself all by your lonesome, whether Chris wasn’t there or just wasn’t paying attention.

A light knock on the bathroom door snaps you back into reality. “Just a minute,” you manage to call out. “It’s me,” the familiar voice echoes from the other side of the door. As you recognize the voice, you reach a hand out to the door, unlocking it to let him in. Chris gently pushes it open, stepping inside of the family restroom with you and closing the door behind him, “you okay?”

Looking up at your boyfriend, you see a sympathetic look engraved into his face. He had been worried about you, ‘no way pregnancy made a woman throw up this much,’ is what he thought each time he saw you scurrying to the bathroom. Chris did his best to help out where you needed it, holding your hair, rubbing your back, and always having a water bottle in hand. He couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like it was all his fault. It was starting to take a toll on him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he broke down to his brothers, telling them you were carrying his baby. 

When Nick and Matt started asking questions, he started making up excuses and little white lies to cover both of your asses. Lying to the two people he had always been closest to made him feel like the worst person in the world, but he knew the time wasn’t right. Right before he left the dinner table to check on you, Matt asked if you were throwing up again, making it obvious what Chris’s plans were. Whether he meant it in an innocent way or not, it didn’t put Chris’s mind at ease. 

Sucking in another deep breath and nodding to your boyfriend, “m’fine, Chris. Baby didn’t like the mozzarella sticks. I don’t know, I had them last week and I kept them down just fine,” you ramble. Ten weeks in and you felt defeated and drained. Watching as Chris rubs a hand down your arm, pulling you in for a hug, “hey, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, he’s just being indecisive,” making sure to give you the reassurance he always did. His calm demeanor soothes you almost immediately. You nod a few times and turn to the mirror, looking over yourself. You were pale as a vampire; it looked like all the life and energy was sucked out to you. If this is what pregnancy was like, this baby was for certain going to be your one and only. 

Chris inches behind you, letting both hands fall to your waist. A nervous expression plastered on his face as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, “we have to tell them soon.” 

Sucking in another scattered breath, you open your mouth to speak, “I know.” You let out a lengthy sigh, “they’re catching on.” Chris nods slowly, agreeing with you, “asking too many questions,” dipping his head down to plant a kiss on your temple. His hands smooth over your small bump, lifting your shirt up, “and he’s getting big. Can’t keep him a secret much longer.” 

His words put you at ease, making a smile pull at your lips. Chris had been manifesting a baby boy ever since he found out. He only referred to the baby as he or him, never she or her. You wanted a girl as bad as he wanted a boy, so it pinched a nerve every time he mentioned it. Deep down, you didn’t care what the gender of the baby was. As long as they were healthy, you would be over the moon, and you were sure Chris would be too. Regardless of the short amount of time you and Chris had been together, you knew your baby was made with so much love. 

“You’re gonna be real shitty when we find out it's a girl,” you poke at him. You can tell by the way he screws up his face that he doesn’t agree with a single word you said. Bellowing out a laugh, “a girl wouldn’t be bad,” you tell him, running your hands down his arms and pulling your shirt up further to expose more of your growing bump. He lets out a soft sigh, “I know. I just really want a mini me,” he muffles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Well, don’t get your hopes up. We don’t know yet,” you tell him before turning your attention to your reflection in the mirror. Your bump looked bigger than normal. It seemed like every time you raised your shirt to look in the mirror, your belly grew in size - kind of like Pinocchio and his nose.

“We should tell them tomorrow,” you blurt out. Chris digs his head out of the crook of your neck, “tomorrow?” 

“Yea, why not?” you beam, even though you dreaded the thought. His brothers could be a bit judgmental at times, especially Nick, who had no idea what a filter was. A lot of the time, he’d impulsively say the wrong thing, but he’d always feel bad and apologize later on. It’s not that Nick didn’t like you, he just didn’t care to not be himself around you. Matt, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give two fucks. He was happy for Chris and his intuition told him you were a perfect match for his brother. He was the main person Chris vented to which made Chris feel like he was keeping everything bottled up. He wasn’t wrong. Chris lets his hands drop to his side, pinning his bottom lips between his teeth once again as he takes a step back, “I don’t know, baby. I don’t think tomorrow is a good idea.” 

“Nuh-uh,” you grumble, “what happened to a few minutes ago when you were trying to convince me the time was right?” You spin around, wrapping your arms around his neck, and playfully narrowing your eyes at him, “we’re telling them tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. I mean it, Chris!” 

“Yes ma’am,” he holds a hand up to his forehead, jokingly saluting you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “let’s get back out there, yeah?” 

You follow Chris back to the secluded booth Matt had picked out for the group. Going out to eat was out of the norm for the four of you, usually you guys would go through a drive thru, but Chris suggested it and didn't let up when everyone was opposed to the idea. He wanted to get you out of the house and if he was being honest, he wanted to butter up his brothers before he broke the news to them. Chris was nervous to tell them. Nervous was an understatement. He was so scared to tell them, he felt like telling his parents would be a piece of cake.

"Please don't tell me y'all were fucking in the bathroom," Nick spits out in a playful tone. You give him a funny face, scooting into the booth while Chris mimics your actions. He didn't find it that funny, though. Nick had been giving you shit over a lot of things, from your sudden change in style to the way you ran to the bathroom. Even though you all knew Nick loved to pick on you like the little sister he never had, your hormones were at an all-time high. Chris knew your waterworks were a ticking time bomb and you were ready to explode at any given opportunity. He had not been super attentive since you revealed your pregnancy to him, he had become really overprotective. Nick constantly picking on you didn't sit right with him, but he knew if he told his brothers that you were in the bathroom throwing up again, they'd ask questions. The last thing he had the patience for was more questions. He already had too many of his own.

The four of you sit together, chatting about numerous topics as the boys finish their food. The mozzarella sticks being the culprit of your sickness just a few moments ago, you didn't dare touch them. You had thought your reluctance to finish your meal had gone unnoticed, but the waitress came back to set the bill down, asking if you need a to-go box in the process. You give her a toothless smile as everyone turns their attention to you, "that'd be great. Thank you," you tell her sheepishly.

"You didn't finish your food?" Matt asks, still chewing his last bite as he sets a few twenties down on the table. The boys get up from the table, and you follow quickly behind. You shrug off Matt's question, "you guys eat too fast," pulling the excuse out of thin air, "and I was in the bathroom." Your comment earns a nudge from Chris, indicating he liked your comeback. He crouches down to your level, "good one," making sure to whisper so his brothers don't hear.

"She didn't order her henny margarita either," Nick points out as you guys walk to the nearby exit. His comment makes Matt come to a realization, "you do always order a henny margarita!"

"What can I say? I'm a changed woman," you shoot out playfully as Chris intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly to let you know your response was valid.

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga @thepubeburgler @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 (I think i got everyone. For some reason my tags weren't working in my last post?? Idk tumblr always acts weird to me 😫 Let me know if anyone else wants added. Going to make an actual taglist post soon!)

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. I do not wish to share my work.

[totalswag]

Drew Starkey and Actress Reader are together for a while now, they're in a place, you know celebrities meet at a party or parade or exhibition something like that. That's when they meet the Reader's ex boyfriend, they get along well, they've moved on, on good terms but Drew seems a little jealous, i see him asking little questions, but in reality he has nothing to fear since he trusts her a lot, he knows she loves him so much back. Can you do this please ?

unexpected encounter — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for the lovely request! sorry this took awhile to be posted. life has been very busy. i hope this is what you were looking for lovie.

summary drew meeting your ex for the first time and he seems to be jealous.

warnings jealous drew thats it

Golden Globes after-party is tonight.

Since you announced your relationship to the world, this will be your second public appearance together. Drew was dressed in an all-black suit to compliment her basic black dress with a bit of shine to draw attention. You like to match your outfits here and there.

This was also an excellent opportunity for Drew to meet new people in the film industry as well as some of his favorite actors and actresses. When he met some of his favorite people, it warmed your heart to see him so happy and giggly.

As usual, there was a large crowd at the after party. You were able to communicate with other actors and actresses. Your father is a well-known actor, and seeing some of his former co-stars is always pleasant.

In the middle of a conversation with Margot Robbie talking about her recent film, Barbie, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

Margot excused herself, saying, "I'll see you later." She tells you, "Love you, sweet girl," before pulling away from the hug.

She’s amazing.

"Oh, hello, Y/N. It's been a while; how are you?" Your ex-boyfriend, Adam, came into view, astonished to find you there, but smiled at the end.

“Yes, it has been a while and I’ve been great, you?” You reply with a normal tone. “This is my boyfriend Drew, he’s also in the film industry” wrapping your arm around his, looking up at him with a soft gaze.

No matter how you ended things with Adam, you still had love for him at the end of the day.

You can feel the stress increasing in Drew’s body. He only becomes like this when he detects a threat and he wants to protect you at all cost. You’ve stated to him in the very beginning of your relationship you were in a two year relationship with Adam, also in the film industry. You ended on good terms and moved on from each other.

You have no feelings for Adam.

The only thing on your mind was why your partner was acting like this. A million thoughts race through your mind as you try to figure out why.

You can understand why he is suddenly acting this way. You would have the same reaction if you met Drew's ex for the first time. He knows you just have eyes for him.

"Nice to meet you, Drew," he adds confidently, extending his hand.

"Adam," he said, firmly shaking his hand. "You play Rafe Cameron on the Outer Banks, correct? "My cousin loves you," he says with a chuckle.

Drew was taken back by the chuckle from Adams mouth, “Yeah I play him in the show and I appreciate it, you can tell them that I said thank you” his response was calm.

The two begin conversing, getting to know one other. You continue to stand beside the two grown men, even joining in on the conversation. Drew's questions or comments drew your attention.

Adam nods, turning his body towards you, “Congrats on your movie by the way, you did amazing,” talking about your newest movie you starred in with Sydnee Sweeny.

“Thank you Adam, filming that movie was a hassle but a lot of fun all together” you kept your arms around Drew’s arm the whole time.

Eventually, you realized it was time to leave Adam and finish your night with Drew. The night has just begun, and there is food calling your name.

"It was nice to see you, but it appears that we should get going; I hope you have a good rest of your night, Adam," Drew said, indicating between Drew and you. 

"Of course, yes, enjoy the rest of your night" Adam claps his hands together before shaking Drew's hand and hugging you.

By the end of the night, Drew and you are sitting down at the table with a few of your friends while music plays from the band on stage.

Drew and you were facing each other, your hand fiddling with his gold chain while he questioned you about Adam.

"Baby, you understand how much I love you and value our relationship. I'm sorry if I was acting like a dosh," Drew rambles on, but you cut him off by kissing him to silence him.

"You weren't acting like a dosh; you were professional the entire time, and I understand why you were the way you were," you said, placing your palm on top of his and softly pressing your thumb on his hand.

"I actually love you a lot more," he says, smiling.

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