#first “the week before” AND NOW THIS!!

[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[lizardho]

I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[andhumanslovedstories]

An intro to doing crosswords for complete beginners

as told by someone who didn’t do any before this year and now has gotten so deeply into them

with examples pulled almost entirely from crosswords published in American publications this week

A crossword is not a measure of general knowledge or intelligence or skill with words anymore than a Mario game is a measure of how good you are at plumbing. It certainly helps to have the same cultural reference points as the puzzle, but you can brute force your way through a lot of it if you just know how crosswords work

Easiest on Mondays and then get harder over the week

The answer is in the same verb tense as the clue (ex. “doesn’t float” is “SINKS” while “didn’t float” is “SANK”)

If there’s an acronym or abbreviation in the clue, the answer will have one as well (ex. “Toothpaste-approving org.” is “ADA” because that the short way of referring to the American Dental Association)

If the answer is in written like a text from a teen girl with her first flip phone, the answer will be a common texting abbreviation (TMI, OMG, LOL, LMAO, BRB, TTYL, etc) (ex. three letter word with clue “i can’t believe u told me that” is “TMI”)

If the clue is in quotes, it’s dialogue and the response should also be dialogue (ex. the clue “‘That’s it for me!’” is “IQUIT”)

An answer can be multiple words, (see above) so some correct answers can make you second guess yourself because it creates letter combos that seem impossible to be in one English (mostly) word or mess you up bc it’s ambiguous where one word ends and another begins (ex. you have the letters “OWFO” and the answer ends up being “PILLOWFORT” or “UDAT” being “BERMUDATRIANGLE”)

Treat clues with a question mark like they’re going to be puns that make you groan so think about other meanings of the words in the clue (ex. “Volumes you can hear?” is “AUDIOBOOKS” or “Not fancy at all?” is “HATE” or “Remained under cover?” is “SLEPTIN”)

Clues that add hedging language line “they could be called…” or one might use this as…” are telling you to think very laterally. These are the ones that make you a little mad when you get them (ex. “They might be said to be dancing or raging” is “FLAMES” or “They admit they might be punched” is “TICKETS”)

The word “maybe” usually indicates the answer will be an example of the clue, not a synonym (ex. “Pet, maybe” is “CAT”)

If a person is in the clue and a person is the answer, the answer will be from the same part of name as the clue (ex. Trevor Noah replaced John Stewart on the Daily Show. So the clue “Stewart’s successor on the Daily Show” is “NOAH” while “John’s successor on the Daily Show” would be “TREVOR”

No word in the clue will be featured in the answer (ex. “What Beyoncé Knowles goes by” could be “ONENAME” but could never be “BEYONCÉ”)

A answer can be a phonetic spelling of a letter (ex. “Epic finale?” is “CEE”)

Not every clue is going to be tricky and clever, don’t rule out an obvious choice just because it’s obvious (ex. “Do ___ disturb” is “NOT”)

Roman numerals pop up a lot but typically only in clues where a Roman numeral makes sense, so “finale of a play?” could be “ACTII” but “Number of Stooges” is not going to be “III”

There’s a ton of really common clues. If you do enough crossword puzzles you recognize them. (ex. Literally almost anything about oil is going to be OPEC, any variations on “things on a smartphone that someone can download and use” is going to be “APPS”, and anything about a european capital city is probably “OSLO”)

If a clue can be about a cookie, the answer is almost certainly “OREO”

[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.

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[fastandcarlos]

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win

You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 

“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 

In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 

It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 

“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 

An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 

Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 

“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 

“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 

Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 

“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 

His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 

“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 

“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 

It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 

“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 

Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 

“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 

Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 

“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 

Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 

Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 

“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 

“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 

“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 

“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 

“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 

It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 

Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 

“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 

“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 

“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 

“Even in the early hours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lexcys]

★observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruby with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kacey talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[bookwormjust]

Subtle change of your scent (established relationship with Azriel, the start of your pregnancy)

After a long, exhausting day of shopping with Feyre, you were curled up on the couch at home, reading a book. The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the rhythmic flipping of pages creating a comforting ambiance. You sighed, feeling the contentment of finally being home. Feyre had insisted on spoiling everyone for Solstice, and the day had been filled with laughter, joy, and plenty of gifts. Now, it was time to relax.

Azriel had been out with his brothers, enjoying some time together after a long week of missions. You hadn’t heard him come in, so when the front door softly closed, you didn’t immediately look up, absorbed in your book.

But Azriel, as always, noticed everything. He stepped into the room, his shadows slipping silently into the corners, but it was the change in the air that stopped him in his tracks. His steps faltered as he paused, his sharp senses picking up something new, something that made his heart skip a beat.

Your scent—it was different. The familiar notes of it, the one he had known for so long and was so intimately connected with, had shifted. It was still you, still the essence that made you *you*, but there was something more now. A new depth, a richness to it. And underneath it all, something faint but undeniable—his scent, mixed with yours, and a new, blossoming presence.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as realization slammed into him. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, widened, disbelief and hope warring within them. He stood frozen for a moment, the world around him fading as everything zeroed in on this one fact.

You were pregnant.

Your eyes lifted from the book when you sensed him standing there, the quiet intensity of his presence pulling your attention. His gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable at first. But then his wings trembled slightly, and you saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and utterly overwhelmed.

“Az?” you asked softly, setting the book down, confused by the way he was staring at you as if he had never seen you before.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved toward you in slow, deliberate steps, kneeling in front of you on the couch. His large hands, always so steady and sure, reached out to gently grasp your own. He stared at you for a long moment, his breath uneven, his eyes searching yours as if trying to confirm what he was feeling.

“You…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Your scent… it’s changed.”

You blinked, a wave of understanding suddenly dawning on you as the words settled in. Your heart raced as you processed what he meant. You had suspected for a while—small changes, subtle signs—but to hear it like this, to see the way Azriel was reacting…

“I—” you started, but your voice cracked as emotion welled up in your chest. You squeezed his hands, your own shaking slightly. “I think… I think I’m pregnant.”

Azriel’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, even though it was too early for any visible change. His eyes, normally so shadowed and controlled, filled with tears that he couldn’t hold back. His entire body seemed to tremble with the weight of what he was feeling, as if the realization had hit him like a tidal wave.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and disbelief, as if saying it out loud would make it real. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and before you could say another word, he wrapped you in his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“I can feel it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. “I can feel them… our child… part of you, part of me.”

You felt a tear slide down your own cheek as you held him close, feeling the way his entire body shook with the intensity of his emotions. Azriel, who had always been so strong, so in control, was now trembling in your arms, overwhelmed by the news that you were carrying his child.

He pulled back slightly to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “You’re carrying our baby,” he whispered again, his eyes full of wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded, smiling through the tears. “Yes, Az,” you whispered back. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Azriel let out a soft, broken laugh, his wings curling around you protectively as if he could shield you and your child from the world. He kissed you deeply, tenderly, as though trying to pour every ounce of love he felt into that single moment.

When he pulled back, his face was still wet with tears, but there was a smile—a real, unguarded smile—that lit up his entire face.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you so much. I didn’t know… I didn’t know I could feel this much.”

You smiled through your tears, your hands resting over his on your stomach. “I love you too, Azriel.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his wings and his love, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful. Azriel, who had always been your strength and protector, now had a new role—a father. And the joy and love that filled the room was almost overwhelming, as the two of you shared the quiet wonder of knowing that soon, you would become a family.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter three

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

tw: slight body issues in this chapter.

wc: 3.2k

-

The wedding was in a week and you found yourself out shopping with the triplets trying to find Chris a tie that would match your dress, which was just a simple, deep red, slim fitting, sleeveless dress. It was sexy and flattering, but nowhere near enough to draw attention from the bride or bridal party.

You had been shopping for a while, mostly goofing off, but now you guys had made it to Men’s Warehouse and were actually looking for what you needed. You carried around a swatch of your dress color so you could find something as close as possible, holding it up to every dark red tie you found, but nothing was to your liking just yet.

“How about this one?” Chris asks, holding another one up, and you walk over and hold up your swatch, shaking your head. “Too bright,” you say, to which he groans.

“We’ve looked at like twenty different ties, one of these has to match,” he complains, putting the tie back.

“The perfect match is out there, I know it is. We just have to keep looking,” you tell him, still perusing the array of options throughout the store.

Matt and Nick followed behind you guys, chit chatting with each other while you and Chris bickered over whether or not the reds matched, which they obviously didn’t.

“Haven’t you ever seen those pictures on the internet?” You ask Chris.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you. “Very descriptive, I definitely have,” he replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “You know, the ones where girls ask their boyfriend if they can tell the difference between two really similar nail polishes? Most of them can’t tell the difference, but women can! So when you say that these ties are ‘close enough’, they’re just not. It has to be perfect, these pictures are going to be around forever, and as much as I wish you weren’t in the pictures, I at least want to make sure we look good.”

“Stop comparing me to a boyfriend, dude, it’s getting weird,” Chris shudders at the thought and you just shake your head, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a damn thing you were saying and is just trying to rush through this store. “How about this one?”

Chris holds up a tie for you to look at, and you hold your swatch up to it, instantly beaming up at him. “It’s perfect!” You tell him, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “See? Don’t you see how well that matches?”

He looks down at the two colors pressed together and reluctantly nods. “Yeah, that looks pretty good,” he agrees.

“Great!” You smile, grabbing the tie from his hands. “Now we buy this and we’re all done.”

Chris lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his brothers, ready to be done conversing with you for the time being. He makes eye contact with Matt who smiles at him and mouths the words ‘help me’ while pointing towards your frame that happily skipped up to the register.

Matt laughed and patted Chris on the shoulder. “You agreed to it,” he tells him.

Back at the triplets house, you’re all crowded in Nick’s room, your dress laid out on his bed and Chris’s suit laid right next to it. “You put yours on first,” you tell him.

You wanted to see how you guys looked together before the actual day of the wedding, so you decided to try everything on now that you guys were both home and had corresponding outfits. You had brought your dress over earlier before you went shopping so that it was ready for you when you guys got back home.

Chris picks up his suit from the bed and walks into Nick’s bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“How are you handling being Chris’s girlfriend?” Nick asks curiously, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You just laugh. “It’s not that bad, we just take pictures together every so often, but it’s just pictures. As much as I hate it I just have to remind myself that he’s giving me a date to a wedding so I don’t have to hear everyone asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend. A couple pictures in return for a night of silence sounds like a win to me.”

Nick and Matt chuckle, still shocked that you guys agreed to help each other in such an intimate way, considering your history.

“Why do I have a feeling you guys are going to fall in love?” Nick teases, but you just scoff at him.

“Yeah, right. I’d rather date you,” you smirk at Nick and make a kissy face towards him, leaning in like you were going to kiss him.

Nick cringes and puts his hand in your face, pushing you away as you guys hear the door open, Chris walking out in his suit, his tie in his hand.

“I, uh, don’t know how to tie this,” he says shyly, holding it out, clearly embarrassed.

You look around at his brothers and see them both looking just as clueless as Chris did. “Seriously?” You ask them.

“Our mom or dad always did it for school dances,” Matt tells you. “Never really worn a tie other than that.”

You huff and stand up off the bed, walking over to Chris, snatching the new tie out of his hands. “You guys are helpless,” you mumble, starting to situate the tie around his neck.

“‘M not helpless,” Chris says lowly, his voice slightly pouty.

“Oh, of course not,” you reply, looking up at him. “You’re just a twenty one year old boy that doesn’t know how to tie a tie, or fill out forms, or make a restaurant reservation…” you trail off.

“The fuck? I made a reservation for you and Matt tomorrow,” he argues.

“Tomorrow?” Matt whips his head around to look at his brother.

“Yeah?” Chris responds, looking at Matt over your head. “I told you I’d book it and then let you know when it was.”

“You didn’t think to ask first? Chris, I have plans,” Matt groans.

Chris’s eyes widen. “What fucking plans?! You never go anywhere.”

“I have an actual date tomorrow, I can’t make that. You should’ve told me when it was first or asked when I was free,” Matt tells him, finality clear in his voice.

“Kid, I had to put fucking a deposit down for this place, it’s non refundable. You need to go. Just reschedule your date.” Chris tells him.

Matt shakes his head, looking at Chris seriously. “No, dude, I’m not rescheduling. You should’ve asked.”

Chris groans and throws his head back, currently hating his life. You finish up with the tie and reach up to brush off Chris’s shoulders, then swipe your hands down his arms quickly before backing away. “Done,” you tell him, admiring your work. “You know, you could just suck it up and grab dinner with me. I’m not the worst person to be around.”

Chris turns around and goes back in the mirror to look at himself, shrugging a bit. “I’d prefer not to, but I also don’t want to lose my deposit.” He walks back out of the bathroom and past you, going to sit on the bed. “Alright, try your dress on now so I can take this off.”

You nod and grab your dress before walking into the bathroom, shutting the door after you. You slip off all of your clothes and step into your dress, pulling the straps over your shoulders. It fits well, and when you bought the dress a couple of months ago, you fell in love with it and the way it looked on your body, but now as you stare in the mirror, pulling the sides tight against your waist as the zipper was still down in the back, you couldn’t help but focus on all the imperfections staring back at you in the mirror. It almost makes you fully take the dress off and call it a day, figuring you’ll just put it on the day of the wedding and suck it up, but you would feel too bad making Chris get dressed up just to back out.

You’ve never explicitly told any of the triplets about any of your insecurities, just threw a few self deprecating comments out there like people normally do, and for the most part you were a confident person, but everyone had their days, and today was just one of those days.

You reach back and try to pull the zipper up, but you’re only able to zip it about halfway up on your own, so you slip back into your happy demeanor before you open the door and walk out, smiling at the three boys staring back at you. “Can one of you zip me up?” You ask.

Chris stands up from the bed and walks towards you. You’re shocked to see him volunteering without being coerced into it, but say nothing, afraid to startle him back to his senses. You just turn around and move your hair off your back, pulling it over your shoulder and he reaches out, grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. “Good,” he tells you, and you turn back around to face him again.

“How do I look?” You ask the room, smiling wide and putting your hands on your hips dramatically. Chris moves out of the way so his brothers can see you, but keeps his eyes on your body.

“The same as you always look,” he retorts bluntly.

“You look hot,” Nick nods his head enthusiastically in approval.

“What Nick said,” Matt says in agreement. “I’m kind of sad I can’t make it now.”

You giggle at Matt’s words, feeling your ears heat up a little bit. You didn’t necessarily have a crush on Matt, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was attractive and his words did have a little bit of an effect on you.

“Thanks, guys. Come here, Chris, I want to look at us in the mirror.” You tell him and walk back into the bathroom where he follows you.

You both stand in the mirror together, looking at your outfits. You scrunch your eyebrows together and brush your hands over your dress, trying to pull it in a couple different directions to make it look more flattering on your body.

“What are you doing?” Chris asks you, watching you through the mirror as you play with your dress.

“Trying to fix the dress,” you mumble, sucking in a little bit as you turn to the side to stare at your reflection from another angle. “I think I gained a little weight and I just.. don’t really like how this is looking.”

Chris turns to look at you instead of your reflection, seeing how distraught you actually looked by the sight of your body in the dress.

“There’s nothing to fix, the dress is fine.” Chris is clearly uncomfortable at the way you’re speaking, but has no idea how to manage the situation. It was bad enough that he wasn’t good at dealing with other peoples’ emotions, but you two also weren’t close, so his urge to run away was even stronger than normal.

“It’s not the dress, I just…” your voice falters, eyes still glued to your body in the mirror. “I look bad.”

“Stop it,” he tells you, reaching out to turn your body towards his. You turn and look up to meet his eyes, your own starting to well with tears. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and shrug your shoulders, unable to speak in fear of your voice giving out on you.

He reaches behind himself and shuts the door, blocking his two brothers from earshot of you guys. “Why are you crying?” He asks you again, more firm this time.

You look down at the ground, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m just upset at how I look,” you tell him, voice high pitched and squeaky. “I really liked this dress when I got it but… I don’t know how I feel now.”

Chris sighs and reaches forward, placing a finger under your chin so he could tilt up your head. “Stop crying,” he tells you. “You look really good in that dress. Your body is incredible and you know it, that’s why you always walk around my house in your little booty shorts and a sports bra, isn’t it?”

You cough out a laugh and reach up to wipe a couple tears that fell down your cheek. “Not really, I’m just really comfortable around you guys. Even you wouldn’t think to comment on my body. You’re dumb but you’re not that dumb.”

Chris rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head. “Well, I’m commenting on it and I’m telling you that you look fine. Girls would kill to look like you. Once you do your hair and your makeup and shave your legs or whatever girls do you’ll feel way better about how you look. So, sort yourself out, change back into your clothes and go cuddle with my brothers or whatever weird shit you do with them.”

You smile and nod, the tears subsiding almost completely as he speaks. “Okay,” you mutter. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chris replies. “Seriously. Ever. I don’t ever want anyone knowing I… comforted you.”

You giggle at his words and watch as he turns to leave the bathroom before you try and stop him.

“Wait, Chris,” you touch his shoulder and he turns around, looking at you confusedly. “I need you to unzip me.”

“Oh,” Chris starts, moving his feet to come back to you. You turn around and place your hands over your breasts to hold the dress in place once it’s unzipped and he reaches up to unzip it down to your lower back, the small spaghetti straps falling off of your shoulders as he does so. “There you go.”

You turn back around to face him, still holding the dress. His eyes couldn’t help but wander, taking one last look at your body, so close to being completely naked in front of him. All you had to do was let go and the dress would fall to the floor-

“I said thanks,” you say loudly and Chris clears his throat, looking back up to your eyes. He doesn’t respond, just leaves the bathroom and shuts the door, not even speaking to his brothers before he leaves Nick’s room and heads towards his own.

You turn back to the mirror and drop the dress, staring at yourself a few minutes longer, and the more you stand there, the more you feel your mood shifting, and what started as a judgmental and negative stare slowly turns into you checking yourself out, posing for yourself almost completely naked apart from your underwear. You hum to yourself and send a wink towards your reflection before getting dressed again, walking into Nick’s room.

Right now you wore sweatpants and a loose crop top with the collar cut out so it hung off your shoulders, but you strutted over to Nick’s dresser where you had some clothes you had left and he had so graciously washed for you, digging out a pair of old Nike pros and a sports bra, turning around and smirking at the boys that watched you from the bed, eyes wide.

“What… happened in there?” Nick asks, scared for the answer.

You just giggle and rip your shirt over your shoulders in front of both boys, causing Matt to gasp and cover his eyes with his fingers, though he might’ve kept a small slit between his pointer and middle finger, who knows, whereas Nick’s eyes just got even wider, his eyes trailing over your body as you pulled the sports bra over your head, changing your bottom half next until you were fully changed, letting Matt know he was okay to look.

“I know you’re my best friend but I am still only a man,” Matt tells you, not so subtly checking you out, which only boosted your confidence more. Maybe you were searching for validation in the wrong people, but fuck it you needed it right now and if Matt and god forbid Chris were going to be the men that made you feel like they were going to melt at the sight of you then so be it.

“It’s like window shopping,” you tell Matt with a grin. “You can admire but you can’t touch.”

Matt couldn’t help his cheeks turning slightly darker at your words. “Sure…” he replies, definitely not sure.

“Anyway,” you start, clapping your hands together. “You guys hungry? I’m in the mood to cook.”

-

You had scrounged up what you could in the triplets’ kitchen and ended up cooking them some basic pasta, throwing all the boys’ portions onto a plate along with your own, putting everything on the table, calling Matt and Nick to the table who sat on their couch waiting patiently for dinner to be ready.

“I’m gonna get your brother,” you tell them with a smile before skipping towards the stairs, heading down them quickly. “Chris?” You call, standing in his doorframe.

He glances up at you quickly then back down at his phone before he rips his head back up, doing a double take, eyes scanning over the new outfit that had adorned your body. “Uh,” he drawls, looking up to meet your gaze. “Can I help you?”

You smile and place one foot on top of the other, your front knee buckled slightly, hands placed on the doorframe as you stared back at him where he lay on his bed. “I made dinner. You coming?”

Chris thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.” He tells you, looking back down at his phone.

You huff and walk over to him until you’re standing next to his bed, reaching down to grab his phone and pull it behind your back. “Already made you a plate.” You tell him.

Chris furrows his eyebrows and sits up on the bed, quickly getting frustrated with you. “Stop fucking doing that shit every time your spoiled ass doesn’t get what you want. Give me my fucking phone.” He says aggressively, voice a tad louder than it normally is.

“Not until you come have dinner with us. I don’t want your food going to waste,” you pout, both hands now securely locked behind your back, phone held sideways between them. “Don’t be so rude, it’s fucking annoying.”

Chris scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m rude? You’re just coming in my room and snatching shit out of my hands like a fucking toddler, that seems pretty rude to me.”

You take a tiny step closer to Chris, jutting out your bottom lip. “Please?” You beg.

He’s still for a moment, and at first when his body starts to move, your first thought is that he’s giving in and standing up to go have dinner with you and his brothers, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he stands up and grabs your bicep, flipping your body around. You squeal at the sudden movement, stumbling over your own to feet as he spins you.

What you definitely didn’t expect was him facing you towards the bed and grabbing your hands that were still behind your back with one hand, his other hand taking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He pushes you down on the bed aggressively, your feet still on the floor but your body bent over with your chest pressed into the mattress, leaning over your back until his mouth was next to your ear, making sure you heard the words that were about to fall from his lips.

“Watch your fucking attitude around me before I fucking make you.”

He aggressively shoves your arms, pushing you into the bed roughly as he lets go of you, glaring your way as he starts to walk out of his room, eventually turning his head and exiting, stomping up the stairs.

You use your now free hands to push yourself up until you’re standing straight again, then use them to reach up to your bun that almost completely fell out, grabbing the hair tie and ripping it out.

It took you a moment to process what had happened, but you thought back to it and how it made you feel, and most importantly the newfound throbbing between your legs. You stand there in silence, arms dropped to your sides, until you let out a quiet and confused,

“What the fuck?”

-

a/n: the tension is buildinggggg yall feel it??

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion

[reallychaoticwoo]

Can you do an ATEEZ reaction to their girlfriend squirting on them for the first time?

⛓️ Yess! Lord help me cause honestly the thought of this has me absolutely feral! 🤤🫠⛓️

✨️ Do It Again ✨️

❤️Pairing: Ateez x reader

📌 Masterlist

⚠️Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY!! cussing, squirting (obvs), fingering, oral (f receiving), face riding, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap it up buttercup!), dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names (daddy, sir, babe, baby, darling, my love, etc) rough sex, clawing, overstimulation, slight bondage, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything 🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol(s) in any way‼️

🖤Please support your authors by liking, reblogging, or even just leaving a comment! I love interacting with comments and reblogs they honestly make my day. As always, I hope you enjoy!🖤

HONGJOONG:

His fingers buried themselves deep inside you for the 4th time tonight as your release washed over you (and him). His eyes widened and his once concentrated face morphed into that of a predator. "Oh sweetheart, you didn't tell me you could do that." Something between fear and arousal circulated deep inside you as you awaited his next words. "Oh I am going to have so much fun seeing how many times I can make you squirt for me, my love. I hope you're ready." His final word spoken just as his fingers entered your overly sensitive cunt for a 5th time.

SEONGHWA:

Your legs trembled and your back arched as you screamed, your orgasm rushing through you like never before. He lifted his face from your core, his pupils blown, and his face glistening. He chuckled darkly as he snaked up your body to meet your lips."Darling, did you know you could do that and didn't tell me?" You shook your head frantically, "N..No! I didn't know I promise!" He hummed to himself as he thought over your words. "Well, you made quite the mess. I suppose I won't punish you for it... IF my sweet girl can squirt for me again before I cum." He swiftly snapped his hips forward burying himself to the hilt. "Starting now." He said as he reared back and thrust inside again.

YUNHO:

He was balls deep in your cunt, thrusting hard and deep. His tip kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips. Your slick walls clenched around him as your arms gave out and you fell face first into the mattress. "Fuccckk I didn't know you could do that baby." He practically growled as he began picking up speed, his own release threatening to snap. "One more baby, give me one more please, fuck that was so hot!" His voice closer than before as he bent forward to whisper in your ear. His hand placed on the back of your neck pushing you further into the bed as his thrusts grew frantic. A few thrusts later and your release sprayed all over as his own was pumping deep inside.

YEOSANG:

His eyes were blown out as you bounced yourself up and down, your warm tight walls clenching down on his length as you chased your orgasm. Your head fell back as you bottomed out, euphoria washing over your body. He held you hips and bucked up into you, elongating your release. "Shit... shit that was so sexy." You smiled down at him as you slowly started moving your hips again. "If you can get me to do it again before you cum, I'll wake you up to head for a week. How's that sound Sangie?" He thrust his hips up into you once before answering "Sounds like a challenge I am going to enjoy either way baby. You're on."

SAN:

Your back was up against the wall and your legs hanging over his arms as he thrust into you with such primal force. You clawed down his back as you let go, soaking the two of you in your essence. He glared down at where your bodies met and smirked with nothing but pure sin in his eyes. "Oh, oh you've fucked up babygirl. Gonna make you do that again and again. Gonna take this cock all fucking night right princess?" You gulped, already fucked out, and managed to mumble, "Yes sir. Gonna take what daddy gives me." He resumed his brutal pace without warning before whispering in your ear, "Good girl."

MINGI:

Your thighs were straddling his face as he blissfully lost himself in your cunt. Out of all the things he loved, you riding his face had to be in the top five. A particularly sharp suck on your clit sent you over the edge as you tried to keep from falling forward. He did not let up as you squirted all over his face, his tongue hungrily begging for more as it lapped at your folds. Once you caught your breath you sat back on his chest. "Shit, oh my god are you okay Min?? I didn't know that was gonna happen!" He just smiled still drunk of your pussy before he answered, "Drown me again please, pretty please baby!" He didn't even wait for a reply before he grabbed your hips and moved you back to his face.

WOOYOUNG:

The thing about you and Woo that works so well is that you're both bratty as fuck. Although you both liked to test the limits, Woo almost always ended up on top and in charge. Tonight was no different. You laid back against the bed, hands tied to the headboard, your legs spread apart by a spreader bar, and Woo between your thighs with a magic wand grinning manically. You were so overly sensitive from the hour he'd been edging you that tears streamed down your face as you begged him to let you cum. And the second he said "Cum for me sweetie" your orgasm washed over you like a hurricane threatening to destroy your very existence. As you slowly came back to, your vision finally returning, you looked to Woo. His cheshire smirk only grew as he met your eyes before practically growling, "Do it again."

JONGHO:

You were feeling especially needy tonight. Rubbing yourself on his thigh as he tried to relax from a long day. "That's it baby bear, doesn't that feel good?" He asked as his hands moved in tandem with your hips adding some much needed pressure. "Y-yes..ssoo good.. gonna cum soon.." You moaned as you began to pick up your pace. You buried your face in his neck, needy whines escaping your lips as you slowly reached your climax. His hands moving your hips for you, slowly dragging you back and forth as your rode out your high. "Sweet baby bear, did you just squirt on my thigh?" You mumbled something incoherent. "Lay down baby. We're gonna go again until you do that on my dick, understand?" You nodded, chest still heaving as you laid back for him. "Yes please sir."

‼️TAG LISTS FOR GENERAL ATEEZ CONTENT ARE OPEN! I do also have tag lists for individual members if you like to be added to that.

[mrsriddlenott]

~ BET ~

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader(kinda implied kook)

Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Edging, lil bit of Daddy Kink, d/s Dynamics, Creampie, Papa Jay. Kinda Proofread.

Please point out any mistakes

{masterlist}

————

JJ hadn’t even considered how difficult NNN would be, when the idea came up between him, John B, and Pope he thought it would be the easiest 40 bucks he had ever made. He didn’t need to finish to have fun, he could make you come undone with two fingers, easy. However, he gravely underestimated how much you needed him to be inside you, no matter how many times he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue in a day, he would still have to hold back through all of your begging that night.

JJ hadn’t noticed how much he spoiled you until now, he would have you underneath him or between him and a wall every day, sometimes twice if he could. And you had gotten used to that treatment. “But what about me Jay?” You pouted, looking up to him with those big, sad eyes when you came to the Chateau that night, and he knew he messed up. There was no way he was gonna make it because he didn’t realize he had you addicted to his cock until you were already fiending for it. All on account of his stupid bet.

And it just got harder from there.

Your lips grazed against the back of his neck, your hands feeling the tense muscles in his lower back as they danced across his skin, “Please Jay, I can’t wait, I want you now,” JJ held back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut when your hands made there way around to his front, hidden under his shirt where your fingers traced down his happy trail, testing him and pushing him further. He felt himself twitch in his cargo shorts, hardening almost immediately as your scent surrounded him, the feeling of your soft fingers almost sending him over the edge.

“It’s only day one Gorgeous, don’t test me.” He stated, his hands stopping yours when your fingers began playing with the button on his shorts as if they had a mind of their own. You groan behind him, retracting your arms and the warmth that came with them from around him, crossing them over your chest teasingly.

“You know I won’t tell them if you crack Jay, they would never know.” He sighed, head falling back before turning to watch you walk away from him, the sassy little swing in your hips almost making him jump at the offer. Almost.

But, his rejection sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying, if anything it egged you on further.

————

“What if I just sit on it Jay, I’ll warm you and when you’re about to cum I’ll get off Baby, I promise.” JJ chuckled at the desperate tone in your voice from below you, his head leant against the back of the couch displaying his Adam’s apple that bounced up and down every time your hips moved against him again. “Please Jay, I wanna feel you.”

“Nuh uh Princess, I know you can’t control yourself,” He laughed through a groan, the desperation of his voice making you speed up, proving him right. The friction building between you two becoming too much for him, your hips speeding up even more to chase the high he can’t have. He watches your chest rise and fall quicker as you drop your head into his shoulder, whining in his ear the closer you get to your release. You can feel him twitching against your clothed cunt every time you clench against nothing.

“Can you feel how wet I am for you through my underwear Jay?” His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, he’s testing himself now seeing how close he can get to the edge before he stops himself. Part of him just wants to let it happened, but he can’t lose in the first week, he would never hear the end of it, “Fuck Baby I am so sorry.” He groaned into your neck, tugging you up by your hips, moving to the side and aggressively pushing you down to reconnect with his thigh.

His large hands keep your rhythm when you falter, pushing you and tugging you against his thigh, pulling whines from your throat and making you twitch in his lap. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging on it uncontrollably while the band in your abdomen tightens. Your slick coats his leg forcing him to bite into your shoulder to control himself, whining into your flesh every time your knee brushes his tip, edging himself even further. You stutter and gasp, twitching against his thigh and soaking his shorts, his hands slow with your hips speed. Your watery eyes looked to him and his dick strained against his zipper further.

“You’re taking this so seriously, if I wasn’t so pissed at you I’d actually be kind of proud,” Your voice was breathy and came out strained, your glossy eyes held onto his, the little pout you had making him twitch and groan.

“I’m pissed at myself too,” He sighed, letting his head fall back into the crook of your neck, “I’ll tell ya’ what, if JB breaks soon, I’ll let Pope win and then you can ride me all you want Mama.”

“Really?! For me?” You squeak, so excited you would be embarrassed if you weren’t with JJ, “Fuck you’re amazing you know that?” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers tangle into his hair again. Your soaked panties rubbing against his still hard cock, mixed with the sting your nails left at the base of skull forcing a whimper from his throat, and you know right then there is no way he is lasting the whole month.

————

“Cleo just texted me and Sarah, she broke Pope,” You giggled, typing away on your phone, his blue eyes watching you more intently than usual, just as they had been for the last ten days, “I kinda thought he would beat you both honestly.” You stated, tossing your phone beside you on the bed he made his before crawling over his thighs, his semi-hard cock already pressing against your entrance when you settle. He was so used to fucking you every night before you both slept in each other’s arms, that his body seemed to be prepared for it. Every time he looked at you recently he felt like he was about to bust, he was never doing this again. He decided he wouldn’t even be taking a trip without you ever again.

“Do you wanna fuck me now Jay?” Your breath fans across his ear and JJ bangs his head against the bed frame with a groan, your lips trail down the warm, salty skin on his neck stopping at the spot he loved the most and licking a stripe back up to his ear. You were desperate he could tell, and he absolutely loved it, and hated not being able to take care of it.

“Baby, you know I said if JB breaks….” He sighs into your skin, “Now I gotta win Princess, especially now that I know you thought I would lose.”

“Nooo, Jay, you can not imagine how horny I have been without you inside me,” you whined against the shell of his ear, exaggerating your neediness only a bit to try and get him to crack, “I won’t tell, not even Sarah.”

“Oh but Baby, that’s not winnin’,” He tsked, grabbing your cheeks, tugging your pouting face away and forcing eye contact, “If you wait I’ll use the bet money on anything you want.”

“I jus’ want you Daddy please.” You gripped his shoulders, thinking you knew exactly what the nickname would get you. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you began to rock your hips slightly, wanting him to finally give you what you want.

“Oh so that’s what you’re gon’ do huh?” His head tilted, slipping into his more dominant personality on instinct, his jaw twitching, his large hand gripping your hair in a flash, tugging it back and exposing your neck to him, “You can’t play that card and win Princess you know I’m in charge here.” He whispered into the flesh of your neck before his lips began their assault, sending a shiver down your spine and heating your abdomen even more than it had been.

“Do you want me to make it even worse for you Gorgeous,” he teased, “You can join me in this bet if that’s what you really want? I’ll bring you right up to the edge,” he whispered, his free hand slowly falling into your shorts to tease the hem of your underwear, “And then pull you right back with me.” He finished with a chuckle, snapping his hand out of your shorts, leaving you whining and wiggling against him.

“That’s no fair, you always make me cum, even when you’re mad.” You lean away from him and he lets you, resting you on his thighs before crossing your arms across your chest in the teasing way you know he likes. Shoving your breasts together right in his face, playing up the bratty attitude to get what you want.

“I make you cum when you’re good, and since you chose to pull out the Daddy card when you know damn well I can’t slip out of control until I finish,” He sighed between his words, eyes bouncing between your eyes and cleavage, controlling himself before he just fucks you right now, “Now you need to deal with his consequences.”

Your smile grows on your face, giggling at his words before you speak, “Okay, okay, I did do it on purpose but only because I need you so much.”

“Ah ah ah,” The teasing tone of his voice knocks your smile right off your face and you know you messed up, “I am dead serious, you’re stuck now Sweetness, you fucked up and now Papa Jay is gonna get what he wants. If you don’t act right I am gonna watch you beg for release every singe time I wanna fuckin’ cum until I can, do you understand me?”

Your eyebrows squeeze together, watching his face for a sign of hesitation, but the dominance stays. You whine as you wiggle your way off his legs to lat beside him, scowling at him before turning your back to him and laying down for bed. “If you change your mind in the middle of the night don’t hesitate to….wake me up, but only if you wanna fuck me awake.” You tease, wiggling your hips to poke out your pantie clad ass cheeks his direction.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that in the morning Gorgeous,” He laughed, slotting himself behind you in the dark, his arm pulling you into him and moaning in your ear at the feeling of your ass against his tightening boxers. You wiggled against him, pushing into him as he pushes back, his large hand splayed out on your lower abdomen tugging you impossibly closer. In one quick motion his leg locks against yours and his arms tighten around you, halting your movements as he speaks into your ear.

“Goodnight Baby, I love you so fucking much,” He growls into your ear, halting for a second to nip at your flesh before continuing, “and when I win this bet I am gonna give you the best dick of your life I promise you.” You whine again, desperately trying to run your thighs together for some type of friction.

“I love you too Jay, but I still want it now.” You huff, stopping your feeble attempts at movement at his soft, sleepy laugh behind you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He says with a yawn before you’re both slipping into a restless, sweaty sleep tangled together.

————

Your phone lights up beside you on your bedside table, prompting you to grab it and read Sarah’s message in the group chat made for your fellow victims of NNN. “Fuck yes.” You whispered under your breath as you typed out your response, letting them both know your man was the winner. The smile grew bigger on your face when your eyes met JJ’s as he entered your bedroom, his shirt was discarded, allowing your eyes to trace the drops of water left behind after he brushed his teeth as they make a pathway through his chiseled abs.

"See somethin' ya like?" He asks with a teasing smirk that widens into a grin when you toss your phone aside for him, sticking your arms out silently begging him to join you on the bed, wanting to finally feel his skin against yours again. He stalks towards your bed, eyes on you intently as you wiggle in excitement at his proximity,

"Who were you texting?" He asks, his voice deep and demanding, as though he would throw the bet away if you answered wrong.

You smile even wider at his question, "Sarah and Cleo." You state matter of factly, crawling towards JJ where he stands at the foot of the bed. His eyes follow your movements closely, taking notice of the fact that you had already shed your pants for bed. Your hips rocked teasingly the closer you got to him, your cleavage free of if it's usually confines was visible entirely from his angle above you. You stood on your knees proudly when you finally reacher him, drifting your hand across his chest, letting it slowly fall lower while he groans at the contact.

"If you stop right now I promise I will fuck you tomorrow whether John B breaks or not." He growls, dropping his head as though he was ashamed, gripping your hand to stop it's decent. He knew if he let it fall any further he would lose control. You only giggled in response, leaning your head up to reach his ear, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind as you did so.

"You know JB already broke right?" You whisper even though you knew he didn't, giggling when JJ’s head shoots back into place immediately. His ears excitedly perked up at your words like a golden retriever, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask if you were lying to him.

"Really?" His voice comes out forced, loosening his grip on your hand and letting it continue it's pursuit past the hem of his boxers. Sighing at the contact of your cold fingers against the steaming temperature of his skin when he lets you wrap your fingers around his base.

"Yup, Sarah just texted me and Cleo, she got him, you won Baby," Your sultry voice in his ear sends tingles all over his body, "Do you want your prize Daddy?"

“Oh, fuck yes I do.” JJ was on you in seconds, shoving you hard down against your soft bed, maneuvering your body around so he could slot himself between your thighs where he belongs. His hand fell between your bodies, carelessly tugging the hem of his boxers down just enough to let himself spring free, not caring to grab a condom in his haste. He quickly uses two fingers to tug your underwear aside before sinking into fully in one thrust, a broken, strangled sigh escaping his lips as he immediately sets a slow pace. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut above you causing a wide, triumphant smile to to grow across your face.

“Yeah I am not gon’ last long, fuck.” He whines, dropping his head to groan against the flesh of your neck. Your hands find hold on his shoulders as you dig your nails into his back, marking him and holding on to your release as it builds for the first time in days. His lips latch onto your skin forcing you to moan his name, his pace picks up while he pushes himself up on one hand beside your head wanting to watch your face when you come undone for him. His free hand runs it’s way down your side to grip your hip and hold you steady while he thrusts into you. You can feel him against you as you clench around him, earning a strangled mix between a moan and a groan from JJ’s throat, his thrusts stuttering slightly before he regains his composure. You can feel how close he is, his tip hitting just the right spot every time but becoming frantic while his mumbled words become slightly incoherent.

“If you let me cum inside I’ll buy you Plan B.” JJ huffed out above you, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration, trying to hold himself back, his blue eyes getting lost in yours again. He didn’t want to pull out, he had edged himself too much and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. His eyes fell to where you connected, watching the way his dick thrusted in and out of you making a mess on the sheets below. You sucked him in so perfectly that he wanted to stay inside forever.

“No shit, I know you will.” Your fingers melt into his hair, tugging his eyes back up to yours while you speak, “You can cum in me whenever you want Jay.” Your moan mingles with your words, accentuated by his final, hardest thrust before he stutters and twitches inside of you, collapsing on top pf you while his warm cum fills you and leaks past him onto the bed.

Your nails tickle against his back, your other hand playing with his hair, content while you stay connected as your breathing comes back to normal. JJ’s face rests in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as he wraps his arms around you fully. “I may have only lasted 12 days Mama, but I won us 40 bucks.”

“Okayyy but 12 days is still impressive for us,” You respond with a chuckle, tugging his hair to force eye contact with you, “It could have been day one Jay ya’ know.” He groans, his eyes fluttering shut again as his hands begin to run their way up his shirt you so often wear to bed, pinching at your hardening nipples and watching your eyebrows furrow in response.

“Round two?” JJ asks, biting at his lip and staring up at you with desperate eyes. You can feel his cock beginning to harden inside of you, your walls tightening around him at the feeling.

“Well you did say I could ride you Daddy.” Your voice comes out in a beg and you watch JJ’s face as it changes into a dominant scowl despite your growing smile. His jaw ticks and his tongue pushes his cheek out slightly at your words. JJ shoves himself off of you leaving you feeling empty while he settles on his knees. His dick bounces proudly in front of him as he tugs your panties down your legs before ridding himself of his own. You waste no time in removing your shirt and watching his mouth water at the sight of your bare chest as you tug yourself impatiently onto his lap.

You sink onto him, filling yourself up again with a sigh as his cock hits every spot perfectly. You bounce on him, setting a steady pace that your thighs can handle. JJ however, knows how much of a pillow princess you are, preemptively dragging his hands down your sides and to your hips, squeezing them lightly to let you know he can take over whenever you want. Your lips crash into JJ’s in a messy kiss, your tongues battle as your breath mixes. Moaning in each other’s mouths while your hands find perch on his shoulders.

JJ’s lips fall to your jaw, groaning into his kisses, nipping at your neck every time you speed up or slow down. You whine in his ear, your fingers finding his hair and tugging at it as you slow, telling him to take control of you completely. JJ’s wicked smirk widens, his hands tightening on your hips, his lips falling to suck your nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue against it. His finger nails dig into your flesh as he starts to bounce you against his thighs, making you whine and grind into him further. “Faster Jay please.”

“You like that Princess?” JJ teases, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his cock at a faster pace, “Do you like ridin’ Papa Jay Sweetheart?” He coos, tilting his head to watch you bounce on him, matching the pace he set as he thrusts up into you.

————

I think JJ is definitely the typa guy who talks ab himself in the 3rd person during sex😂

Idk how yall feel about Papa Jay but😮‍💨😮‍💨

[eu-nicola]

Topper's sister

summary: since you were a child you had been in love with Rafe even though he never saw you, he always saw you as his best friend's little sister and nothing else, until one night everything changed.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4487

author's note: english is not my first language

Since you were a child, you had always been Topper's "little sister." You grew up surrounded by him and his friends, watching from the shadows as they lived their days with a carefree attitude that you, in your innocence, envied. Among them all, Rafe Cameron had been your beacon. A platonic love that had begun when you were barely ten years old and he was already an arrogant and charming teenager.

It was impossible not to notice Rafe. With his easy laugh, his hair messy from the wind, and that confidence that radiated as if the world belonged to him. Every time he came to your house, he would greet you with a quick knock on the door before entering without waiting for an answer, and he always gave you the same gesture: a distracted flutter in his hair, as if you were a pet he found cute.

"Hey, little one." That was his standard greeting. A casual smile, without stopping to look at you for more than a second.

It made you burn inside. Not with hate, but with frustration. To him, you had always been the girl Topper shared DNA with, nothing more.

But time had passed. You were sixteen now, and you were no longer that shy girl who watched from the stairs as the boys joked and drank in the living room. You had changed. Your eyes, once filled with naivety, now knew how to see beyond the surface. Your hair fell in neat waves, and your style had become refined. You knew that many of Topper’s friends looked at you differently. The pool boy last week, Kelce at the last party, even some who were more distant were starting to seek your attention.

Except Rafe.

He was still the only exception.

One summer afternoon was an especially hot day, and as usual, Topper had invited his friends over to spend the day at the pool. You were in the kitchen, looking for something cold to drink, when you heard the familiar voices from the patio. Rafe’s laughter was loud, and as an automatic reflex, you looked out the window. There he was, with his cocky grin, throwing a ball back and forth with Topper and Kelce.

You decided to join in. You were no longer the girl who hid; now you knew how to move in his world. You came out with a glass of lemonade in your hand and headed toward the group.

“Maintaining the pool again?” you commented with a hint of mockery.

Topper rolled his eyes, but it was Kelce who answered first, smiling in a way you had seen before.

“There’s always room for you.”

Rafe didn’t even bother to look at you. He kept his eyes on the ball, as if your presence wasn’t worthy of his attention. That indifference stung, but you refused to let him notice.

“Sure, Kelce. Because you’re always such a gentleman,” you replied with a wink, playing along with his flirtation.

You sat down in one of the nearby chairs, letting the sun warm your skin as you feigned disinterest. You knew the others were looking at you, but your eyes were focused only on Rafe. Despite everything, he was still the one who held your attention.

After a while, the dynamic changed. Topper and Kelce decided to get into the water, leaving Rafe alone by the table. Without thinking much, you stood up and walked over.

“Are you going to stand there like a guard or are you going to have fun?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

Finally, Rafe looked at you. His blue eyes met yours for a brief moment, and for the first time in a long time, he seemed to notice something different. But his usual smile quickly returned.

“Someone has to keep order. I don’t trust those two.” He pointed at Topper and Kelce, who were fighting over a float.

You rolled your eyes, leaning a little closer to him.

“Always so responsible, Rafe? You surprise me.”

“And you’re always so curious, huh?”

There was a mocking tone in his voice, but also something else. Something that made you wonder if, after all these years, Rafe was starting to see you as more than just Topper’s little sister. But you shouldn’t get your hopes up; you knew Rafe Cameron and his world of dangerous games all too well.

The afternoon passed without any major problems. The boys joked around and competed in absurd games, like who could stay on the float the longest or who could do the best dive from the edge of the pool. You joined them at times, letting the laughter flow freely. You felt the gazes of Kelce and the other boys on you, but as always, you didn't care enough.

Even so, there was something different in the air. A subtle tension. At one point, as you were toweling off after a dip, Kelce approached with a playful grin.

“So… you’re going to the party tonight, right?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you.

“Sure,” you replied without hesitation.

“Perfect.” Kelce winked at you and walked away, but not before Rafe pushed him away with a light punch on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Rafe said with a dry laugh.

“Just being friendly,” Kelce replied with a crooked grin, knowing full well what he was doing.

You watched the interaction, trying to figure out if there was something more behind Rafe’s reaction, but he didn’t say anything else. He simply turned away and refocused on the game. Although his apparent indifference was still present, you couldn’t ignore the small spark you’d seen in his eyes.

As the sun began to set, everyone started packing up their things. The boys went home to get ready for the party, while you stayed a little longer by the pool. You enjoyed the moment of calm, letting the warm breeze caress your skin before heading inside.

In your room, you opened your closet, searching for the perfect outfit for the night. You knew the party was going to be big; the entire Outer Banks was talking about it. You wanted to stand out, not only because you knew a lot of eyes would be on you, but also because you wanted to provoke a specific reaction. You wanted him to see you.

You chose a tight, deep blue dress, which highlighted your eyes and hugged your figure in all the right places. You carefully applied your makeup, opting for a style that combined naturalness with a hint of boldness. Looking in the mirror, you knew you were ready.

You walked down the stairs just as the first guests began to arrive. The house was already filled with music and laughter. Topper, as always, was in his element, greeting everyone and making sure drinks were never in short supply.

Hours later the atmosphere was electric. The house was filled with young people dancing, drinking and chatting in every corner. You walked through the living room confidently, greeting a few acquaintances before heading out to the patio where most of them were congregating. There, under the dim lights hanging over the pool, you saw Rafe.

He was leaning against the railing, a glass in his hand and that carefree smile that seemed permanent on his face. He was talking to a group of guys, but even from a distance, you could notice how some girls tried to catch his attention. He, however, ignored them with an ease that you found frustrating and fascinating in equal parts.

You decided not to approach him right away. Instead, you moved through the party, letting others come to you. Kelce appeared almost instantly, offering you a drink and throwing out flattering comments that you accepted with a smile.

However, every time you turned your head, your eyes went back to find Rafe. You watched him move around, talking to Topper or just watching the crowd, but never coming close to you.

After a while, you felt somewhat suffocated by the crowd and decided to step out onto the back balcony for a moment. The music was muffled, and the fresh air was a relief. You leaned on the railing, enjoying the brief respite.

You hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and, to your surprise, it was Rafe.

“Escaping the party?” he asked with that smile he seemed to have been practicing for years.

“Just taking a break.” You shrugged, trying to remain calm.

He walked over and leaned on the railing beside you. For the first time in a long time, you were alone with him, without the distraction of others.

“Kelce seems to be quite interested in you,” he commented casually, though there was something in his tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

“And that bothers you?” “You asked, challenging him with your gaze.

Rafe let out a low laugh, turning his head to you.

“Should I?”

You didn’t answer right away. There was a tension in the air, an energy that seemed to envelop the two of you. Finally, you decided that, this time, you weren’t going to be the first to give in.

“I guess not,” you said with a hint of sarcasm, before looking away towards the horizon.

The silence that followed was brief, but loaded with meaning.

“Maybe.” His reply was almost a whisper.

The tension on the balcony was almost unbearable, but you refused to be the one to give in. Without giving him time to respond or analyze his words further, you stepped away from the railing and left him there, with his thoughts. You weren’t going to let that little moment consume you, not when there was an entire party waiting for you.

You went back inside the house, and as soon as you walked through the door, someone handed you a glass. You accepted it without thinking much, feeling the alcohol begin to warm your veins. The music was louder, the lights dimmer, and the energy of the party enveloped you again.

Soon you found yourself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by bodies moving to the beat of the music. It wasn't long before one of Topper's friends approached, a boy who had always tried to catch your attention. You knew that tonight he had his goal clear too, and it didn't bother you at all.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked you with a cheeky smile, already a few drinks in.

"Why not?" you answered, letting yourself be carried away by the music and the atmosphere.

He positioned himself close to you, his hands resting on your waist as you both followed the rhythm of the music. There wasn't a considerable space between you, and the closeness was enough to make other eyes fall on you, although you didn't care. At least, not until you felt a different presence at your side.

Suddenly, a strong hand rested on your arm, gently but firmly pulling you away from the boy you were dancing with. When you looked up, you met Rafe's eyes. His face was serious, and though his balance wasn’t perfect due to the alcohol, his gaze burned with an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“Come on,” he said in a deep voice, almost inaudible over the music.

“What are you doing, Rafe?” you asked, surprised and confused, as he led you through the crowd.

“You shouldn’t be with him,” he replied, not even looking back.

You, your head clouded by the drinks you had consumed, could barely process what was happening. Before you knew it, you were in one of the rooms upstairs, away from the noise of the party.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, breaking free from his grip.

Rafe closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. There was something different in his gaze, something beyond the alcohol.

“I don’t know…” he murmured.

The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. You moved closer, your heart pounding in your chest. There were so many emotions mixed together: frustration, desire, confusion. Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t seem to have all the answers.

So, without thinking about it any further, you took a step closer and kissed him. It was an impulsive kiss, filled with years of repressed emotions. At first, Rafe seemed surprised, but he quickly reciprocated.

The kiss intensified, and soon everything else faded away. There was no one else, no past or future, just that moment.

What happened next was a mix of desire and confusion. You were both drunk, and even though your thoughts tried to stay clear, your actions betrayed you. That night was the first time you were with a man, and it was with him, with Rafe, the person you had idealized for so long.

You didn't say anything about it, and you didn't afterward either. Rafe didn't ask you, nor did he seem to care. To him, it was just another night, a mistake caused by alcohol and closeness.

When it was all over, you stayed silent, staring at the ceiling as he quickly got dressed. Rafe wasn't the type to stick around, and you knew that even before he opened his mouth.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired. “We were just drunk, that’s all.”

It hurt, but you didn’t show it. Instead, you shrugged, pretending you didn’t care.

“I know.”

He gave you one last look, like he was searching for something in your expression, but when he found nothing, he simply left, closing the door behind him.

You stood there for a few minutes, letting reality hit you. You had known something like this could happen, that once you were around Rafe, your feelings would complicate everything again. But you also knew you weren’t going to let it define you.

You stood up, fixed your dress, and walked out of the room, ready to face the rest of the night. Rafe might want to pretend nothing had happened, but you weren’t going to get caught up in that. If he wanted to forget about it, you would too.

You returned to the party, head held high and a confident smile. There were more drinks, more laughter, more glances. Kelce found you again, and this time, you didn't hesitate to accept his attention.

The days following the party were a whirlwind of emotions for you. Every time you saw Rafe, a knot formed in your stomach. However, he didn't seem affected at all. He acted as if that night had never happened, as if it had all been an unimportant blur.

You expected it, but it didn't hurt any less. You had spent years dreaming of a moment like this, imagining what it would be like if Rafe finally saw you as more than "Topper's little sister." And even though it had happened, the reality was very different from your fantasies.

Rafe was back to his old self: distant, cocky, focused on his own world. His interactions with you were sporadic and cordial, if anything. There wasn’t a single sign that he remembered what happened, let alone cared.

You, for your part, tried to stay strong. You knew you couldn’t let a single moment define your life, but that was easier said than done. Despite everything, you were still in love with him. Every time he walked into a room, your attention was automatically drawn to him, even if you tried hard to look away.

You spent more time with Topper’s friends, especially Kelce, who seemed determined to win your attention. Kelce was friendly and knew how to make you laugh, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never make you completely forget about Rafe.

At night, you found yourself replaying the moments from that night over and over in your mind. You remembered his hands on you, the warmth of his body, the intensity of his gaze. But every time those memories came up, you forced yourself to push them away. Rafe had been clear: it wasn’t going to happen again.

Everything was moving on, and it was impossible to avoid Rafe entirely. You often saw him around the house, chatting with Topper or relaxing by the pool. When you were around him, you tried to act natural, but each interaction was harder than you wanted to admit.

One day, while you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat, Rafe came in, reaching for a beer in the fridge. For a moment, you were alone, silence filling the space between you.

“Everything okay?” he asked casually, not looking at you as he opened the bottle.

“Yeah, everything okay,” you replied in a neutral tone, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe nodded and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his drink. There were no more words between you, and after a few minutes, he simply walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone once again.

Those kinds of encounters became commonplace. Rafe was always polite, but it never went beyond a “hello” or an occasional question. It seemed like for him, nothing out of the ordinary had really happened.

You decided you couldn’t stay stuck in that cycle anymore. If Rafe could ignore what happened, then you could try too. You pushed yourself to focus on other things: hanging out with your friends, focusing on your own interests, even considering the idea of ​​starting something with someone new.

Yet every little bit of progress fell apart the moment you saw Rafe. There was something about him that always drew you back, as if your heart refused to accept what your mind already knew.

One afternoon, as you sat on the patio, watching the waves in the distance, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and saw Rafe, walking with that nonchalance that always seemed to accompany him. He sat down on one of the nearby chairs, not saying anything at first.

“Thinking about something deep?” he finally asked, with a slight smile.

You didn’t answer right away. You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure.

“Maybe,” you finally said, without looking at him.

Rafe didn’t press. He stayed silent, sipping from his glass as you both stared at the horizon. For a moment, you almost seemed like friends, like there was nothing strange between you. But you knew it was just a passing illusion.

That was the problem with Rafe. He always managed to sneak into your life, into your thoughts, even when you tried to keep him out.

Days after trying to ignore him, there was another party but this time not at your house but at Rafe’s house. The music was pumping loudly, filling every corner of the house. The lights flickered to the beat of the bass, while the air was charged with the energy of bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. You stood in the center of the dance floor, lost in the music, letting a boy lead you confidently. He was attractive, and his smile had a mischievous touch that kept your thoughts away from Rafe, at least for a while.

“You’re a great dancer,” the boy told you, leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You smiled, grateful for the compliment, although it didn’t affect you too much. All you wanted was to enjoy the night without complications, without thinking about what had happened days ago. But just when you thought you could finally relax, you felt a strong hand on your arm.

“That’s enough,” you heard Rafe’s voice, sharp and determined, as he pulled you away from the boy.

You turned quickly, coming face to face with him. His eyes, despite the slight glint of alcohol, were filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time. The boy you were dancing with raised his hands, taking a few steps back, clearly not wanting to confront Rafe.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, pulling away from his hold, furious at the interruption.

“What am I doing?” Rafe repeated, as if the answer was obvious. “What do you think you’re doing, dancing with him like that?”

You stared at him incredulously, your emotions swinging between surprise and anger.

“Excuse me? Since when do you care who I dance with?”

Rafe looked at you with his lips pressed together, his jaw tensing.

“I don’t care, but you don’t have to behave like that in front of everyone.”

“Behave like that?” you laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rafe. You’re nobody to butt into my life.”

His face showed a hint of something, maybe surprise, maybe frustration. But he quickly hid it, taking a step back.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his tone cold and distant. “I’m nobody.”

With that, Rafe turned around and walked away, leaving you there, your heart pounding and a mix of emotions you couldn't control.

You stood in the center of the dance floor, watching him walk away. The music continued, people continued dancing, but to you everything seemed to have paused. His words echoed in your mind: I'm nobody.

You tried to regain your composure. You went back to where your friends were, but your mood was no longer the same. Although you pretended everything was fine, inside you the anger and confusion continued to grow.

Rafe had made his point clear: he didn't want anything serious, but he didn't seem to want you to be with someone else either. What right did he have to make a scene out of jealousy if you meant nothing to him?

You took a long drink from the drink someone offered you, determined to erase that moment from your mind.

The next morning the sun shone high in the sky as the group enjoyed the afternoon by Topper's pool. You were lying on a lounge chair, your sunglasses covering half your face, letting the heat tan your skin. You could hear the sound of the waves in the distance and the laughter of the boys drinking beers near the pool.

Rafe was there, of course, sitting next to Topper and Kelce. You tried not to look at him, concentrating on the book in your hands, even though you hadn’t read a single word since you sat down. Your tranquility was interrupted, however, when one of Topper’s friends, a boy named Mason, decided to approach.

“Enjoying the sun?” he asked with a smile, leaning in slightly so you could hear him.

You looked up over your sunglasses and smiled lightly at him.

“Yeah, it’s a nice day,” you replied in a relaxed tone.

Mason sat on the edge of your lounge chair, his presence much closer than you expected.

“I was thinking maybe we could take advantage of this nice day and go out on the jet ski later. What do you say?” he suggested, clearly interested in spending more time with you.

Before you could answer, you felt a shadow approaching. Rafe was now standing next to your lounge chair, his gaze fixed on Mason.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, Mason?” Rafe asked with a tight smile, though his tone made it clear it wasn’t a friendly suggestion.

Mason looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move immediately.

“I was just talking to her, man. Relax.”

“Well, talk from over there,” Rafe replied, pointing towards the group of guys by the pool.

You sat up, furious, and pushed your sunglasses aside to face him.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” you snapped, your voice filled with anger.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, simply keeping his gaze fixed on Mason until he finally stood up and walked back to the group. Then, he turned his attention back to you.

“Can we talk?” he said in a tone that tried to be softer.

“No, we can’t.” You stood up from the lounge chair and grabbed your towel. Without waiting for an answer, you headed into the house, leaving Rafe standing by the pool.

You went up to your room, closed the door behind you, and dropped onto the bed, trying to calm yourself down. But it wasn’t more than a few minutes before the door slammed open. Rafe had walked in without even knocking, his face a mix of frustration and determination.

“What do you want now?” you asked, standing up to face him.

“I want to know what the hell you’re doing,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“What am I doing?” you repeated in disbelief. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! You were clear, Rafe. Our thing was just one night. I accepted it, remember? So why do you keep showing up every time someone else is paying attention to me?”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice lower.

That only made you angrier.

“Well, I do know that. You have no right to butt into my life, Rafe. No right to make me jealous when you yourself said it meant nothing.”

Rafe stayed silent, his eyes locked on yours. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to respond. Instead, he took a step towards you, and before you could react, his lips were on yours.

You resisted at first, pushing him away slightly, still angry. But Rafe didn’t pull away, and after a second, the tension between you exploded. You gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe looked at you, his eyes darker now, filled with desire.

“We have to stop here,” he said quietly, though his hands were still firmly gripped by your hips. “If we don’t, I won’t be able to stop later.”

You stared at him, not pulling away.

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, with a determination that surprised even yourself.

That was all it took. Rafe kissed you again, more urgently this time, as he led you toward the bed. You both knew you were crossing a line, but at that moment, neither of you seemed to care.

[ailelie]

The Wolf now is Concerned. He isn't invested. He refuses to be invested in humans. Humans are food, not friends.

And yet. This utter sad sack needs help and Hairy McLumberjack is too busy fussing around with trees to do more than look in and tut occasionally.

And, it isn't like the Wolf can roam much. He had a serious surgery to get Steven out of his stomach. He needs recovery time.

It only makes sense that he recovers at Steve's. It's all Steve's fault anyway, if you think about it.

Steve is still mourning his relationship with Denise and dealing with his recent near-death experience. The latter would be easier if the cause of said-near-death experience hadn't decided to take over Steve's bed.

The Wolf is a demanding and infuriating roommate, but the more time they spend on bickering, the less time Steve has to feel sorry for himself. He ends up developing a new passion for cooking out of pure spite--he will prove to the Wolf that there are many better options for eating than 'raw human.'

"So raw my heart was literally still beating, Wolf."

"The better to warm my stomach, Steve."

It is when Little Red is visiting again, more than a week after the Wolf last felt a twinge of pain in his torso, that everything changes again.

"Mama said to invite you to dinner, Uncle Steve," Little Red says. "You can come, too, Uncle Wolf."

Steve and the Wolf meet each other's horrified gaze as they both realize the domestic comfort they've found and created in each other.

That night, long after Little Red has returned home, the Wolf says he's leaving and he goes.

For the first time in weeks, Steve doesn't have to share his bed.

(After the first few nights when the Wolf had claimed his bed, Steve decided he was not going to be forced to the couch again. They each dared the other to leave the bed if they were 'too uncomfortable' to share. Neither left. Neither ever admitted, in the weeks that followed, how nice it was to have someone else there.)

He can't sleep.

In the morning, he eats some berries for breakfast. Lunch is a leftover soup. Dinner is more of the same.

Cooking is less fun on his own, less fun when he doesn't have the Wolf stealing his ingredients and making sly comments from the side.

Meanwhile, the Wolf is in the forest and utterly refusing to admit that his rabbit is a bit gamey, that its flesh would be better shredded with a spicy sauce and served over whipped potatoes. He is a Wolf. He doesn't need cooked food. He doesn't want it.

The flesh and blood are warm in his mouth, but they do not heat his belly like one of Steve's stews. The forest is so unreasonably cold.

And lonely.

"He tried to eat me, Laura," Steve complains to his sister, Little Red's mother.

"From what I understand, he successfully ate you. That lumberjack cut you free, no?"

"The lumberjack! Now, he would make sense. He's handsome, right? Saved my life even. If I had to-- why couldn't I have--" the words won't come out. Steve's never been attracted to anyone male before.

Until the Wolf.

His face flushes bright red and his sister sighs. "You could do worse than that Wolf, Steve."

He buries his face in his hands.

The Wolf goes by the cabin when he knows Steve will be in town, attending the dinner Little Red had invited them to, the dinner that ruined everything.

The ice box has no ice and the plants inside are limp and shriveled. A stew pot, crusted with the dried remnants of broth, sits on the stove. Another pot is half-full with congealed oatmeal.

The Wolf refuses to feel guilty. He is a wild creature. He is not meant to live within four walls like some domesticated dog.

He washes the pots and tosses the ruined vegetables and herbs. It is during this last task that he runs into the lumberjack.

"Glad to see you're back" the Lumberjack says. "He's been missing you."

I'm not back, the Wolf wants to snarl, and, What business is it of yours? Instead, he says, "I don't belong here."

The lumberjack shrugs. "Well, I don't know about that. I think we belong wherever we love and are loved."

"So, what, you're having a love affair with a hundred trees? Do you chop them down after you break-up?" It isn't his best line, but the lumberjack laughs anyway.

"My love was turned into a tree and hidden in this wood. Someday I will find and free him from his curse. Until then, my job gives me more than enough time to search."

"So you're saying it could be worse," the Wolf says. "I could be in love with a tree."

The lumberjack's smile broadens and he nods. "Instead you're only in love with a man."

It is only then that the Wolf realizes what he'd said. The truth of it warms him inside out. "I'm going to go back inside."

He doesn't say he's going to stay. That's what he means anyways.

The next morning, carrying a basket of leftovers, Steve returns to his cabin. He is dreading being alone again, but he cannot live in his sister's house.

He wants the Wolf. He doesn't understand how or why the Wolf has become so important to him, but maybe that doesn't matter. He just wants that strange and frustrating beast back in his kitchen, his bedroom, his life.

He has decided to track down the Wolf just as he's opening his cabin door.

And the Wolf is there.

Glass shatters as the basket falls from his hand. The Wolf's coat is warm and musky under his hands and cheek. His snout presses cool against Steve's neck. His claws prick lightly along his back. Steve can barely think for the utter relief flooding through him.

"I'm back," the Wolf says, unnecessarily. He is holding Steve as tightly as Steve is holding him.

Neither can quite feel embarrassed by their reactions to one another given the other is reacting quite the same.

"Good," Steve says. "Stay."

"Wild creatures don't belong indoors," the Wolf warns. He wants to stay, but some fear lingers. He can only promise now, not forever.

Steve, though, is unconcerned. He steps back, looking his Wolf in the eye. He lifts a hand to his Wolf's maw and traces a thumb along the seam of his mouth, the same mouth and sharp teeth that had once devoured him. "Since when," he asks, "have you cared about arbitrary rules?"

The Wolf flicks his tongue against Steve's thumb. "Since when, indeed."

inspiration struck in a really, really weird way

[ribread03]

Our Song I

m.sturniolo

Summery: When you receive a DM from nick asking you about doing a collaboration with them you cant help but say yes!

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEA! PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION” OR TAKE IT WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST! thank you :)

AN: this is part one of the series “our song” if you would like to know more about “y/n” you can use the mood board! Enjoy :)

Y/N POV

You’re sitting at your desk editing the newest YouTube video you plan to put out. Music is playing in the background as you zone out into your computer. Your phone dings, pulling you out your computer to see who might have messaged you.

Your heart skips a beat when you see “nicolassturniolo sent you a message” in your notification stack. You’ve been a fan of the sturniolo triplet since what felt like forever, and now Nick is messaging you on instagram. You’re in such a state of shock as you open the message, hands trembling as you read what it says;

“Hello, Me, Matt and Chris have come across your YouTube channel and we’re wondering if you want to collab with us sometime in the future….”

Flash Back Two Weeks Ago…

You had just finished editing a YouTube video to post, hitting the post button you close your computer and lay down to take a nap. Expecting the usual few hundred comments and likes when you wake up in a few hours.

Boy were you wrong… A few hours go by and you wake up and see that your video has blown up, thousands of views, thousands of comments, and thousands of new subscribers. Your eyes scan your phone “congratulations on 1 MILLION subscribers” was in your email.

“OH! MY! GOD!” You screamed out, alerting your parents who happened to be downstairs, to hear you. Jumping up and out of bed, starting to exit your room, stepping over piles of books and clothes.

“Y/N? Are you okay!?” You can hear your mother frantically call up to you while walking up the stairs.

“I HIT A MILLION SUBSCRIBERS!” You say excitedly while meeting her in the hallway…

Back to the present…

“Oh. my. god…” you say quietly, fingers hovering over your screen, scared that if you hit anything this will all be a figment of your imagination. Clicking on the notification you hold your breath as your phone unlocks and opens instagram… this is no figment of your imagination. This is real life and the triplets really want to collaborate with you.

You let out a few more silent “omgs” before heading downstairs to talk to your mom about all of this. You exit your room and walk down the stairs, “Momma?” You say softly as you round the corner into the kitchen.

“Yeah sweetie?” Your mom says as she’s washing the dishes. You sit on a small stool on the floor before you talk again, petting your cat, nugget, that was by your feet.

“I got a message from Nick Sturniolo, asking if I wanted to collaborate with them,” you can hear the excitement in your voice as you tell your mom. Your mom also knows that you’ve been a fan, and practically obsessed, with these three boys since high school and have always wanted to meet them one day.

“You did? That’s great honey, what did you say?” She asks turning the sink off and turning to face you.

“I didn’t answer yet.. I'm honestly scared because what if they change their minds?” You explain to your mom with a nervous chuckle. Your cat had now made its way up onto your lap, purring loudly.

“I think you should do whatever you want, just know that a flight out to LA might be expensive.” You took your mom’s words to heart and gave her a small nod.

“I want to go out and meet them, a collaboration would help me so much.. maybe if I get a little more information then I’ll be able to see if I can afford it or not,” you explained back to your mom, pulling your phone out to DM Nick back.

“I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever. I would love to share some more information about when and where if possible.” You hit send with slightly shaky fingers before talking to your mom again, “I just messaged him back, I asked him for some more details on when and where we would collab”

“Okay sweetie,” your mom says softly before returning to whatever she was doing in the kitchen, before you came out there to talk to her. You give your cat a few more pets before standing and going back into your room, waiting for Nick to message you back with more details surrounding this possible future collaboration…

Matts POV

“Did you ask her yet?” Matt was sitting next to Nick looking over at his phone. Matt had seen your YouTube video and thought you were the most beautiful, funny, and relatable person on the internet, and he knew right then and there he needed to meet you.

He had asked Nick and Chris what they thought of some of your YouTube videos, hinting at the idea of a collaboration with you. Saying and pointing out things that would hopefully catch his brother's attention and make them also want to meet you, just maybe not for the same reason.

Matt would find himself scrolling through your instagram when he was bored, careful not to like any of your posts, wanting to keep you out of his fans stalking obsessions before he could even properly meet you. Thumbs carefully scrolling on TikTok as he watches every video you’ve made on there, watching how every video is a little different.

“Yes Matt, I did ask her,” Nick says with a slight eye roll, becoming tired of his brother’s constant asking. Nick's phone dings lightly, alerting that someone messaged him, the someone being you. Nick opens instagram and the messages that the two of you have sent back and forth. Matt's eyes scan the screen quickly, not caring that he might be invading some privacy of his brothers.

Matt's eyes land on the words, “I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever…” and he immediately becomes happier, his smile widening and eyes seem to sparkle and little more.

Nick sends you a quick DM back, asking if regular texting would be easier to send information through and that the collab would be sometime within the next two months. “I can’t believe she said yes!” Matt explains to Nick, his excitement evident in his tone.

“I didn’t think she would say no,” Nick says calmly, typing out his phone number to send to you…

AN: i hope you enjoyed this first part! If you would like to be on the tag list for this series comment on this post! Just asking to be added and i will do so :) feed back and thoughts are always welcome!

All boarders are from @issysh3ll

[salemlunaa]

☀︎ YOU’RE NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE, YOU’RE LAZY AND AFRAID ☀︎

And this will cost you a lot of time that could be spent with your desires…

You have all the information, why aren’t you applying. You tell me you have been in this community for 6 months, a year, 2 years+, but how many of those days you’ve spent in this community have you actually applied, how many of those nights did you actually apply and don’t just fall asleep after 5 seconds.

And i know why you’re lazy, it’s because you’re scared, you’re scared of inducing process, whether it be success or failure. You make yourself busy with scripts and subliminals, “i’ll script this really cool thing first”, “i’ll scroll a little on tumblr first” “lemme just look at the success story hashtag before i do it, it really motivates me” You try and distract your self, you delude yourself into thinking you’re being productive but really you don’t want to, if you wanted to you wouldn’t be here and I will ALWAYS stand by that. You put it off until the last minute and then when it “doesn’t work” you run back to tumblr acting like you actually did anything.

a really good analogy from @archsariel333 - “you buy the pens, the notebook, you plan for the book you’re going to write but, you never write it”

“let me just add this one thing to the plan”, “let me look at inspo for book covers and art styles for illustration”, “let me go to my book writers group on tumblr and see if they have anymore advice for me even tho i know how to write a fucking book”

I know it’s comforting and validating to be in the “waiting period”, the period of anticipation. You want to go shopping for a vacation, pack your suitcase, look at reviews on social media, plan the pics you’re going to take, but getting on the actual plane can be scary, you ask yourself “what if they deny my boarding pass”, “what if i fail to make it on time”, “what if im not eligible to fly for whatever reason”, you don’t want to leave your comforting circumstances and even the trip itself scares you just a little, so you cope by buying all the vacation outfits in the world, saving inspo pics into a pinterest board, looking at vlogs of other people going to that place. You can’t bring yourself to get on the fucking plane.

You need to apply, and properly, 2024 is almost over, the amount of weeks we have left isn’t even in the double digits anymore, I don’t want you to make it to the end of this DECADE still keeping the tumblr “foryou” page company, watching people coming and going feeling paralysed as people who came here later than you pass you by. I know the feeling sucks but whose fault is that?

I want you to scrap the amount you’ve been here. Since you’re the operant power right? I don’t care how many weeks, months, years you’ve been here, scrap it, you’re going to start afresh and you’re going to actually apply, when you have the time, you’re not going to go back to your notes app, notion or pinterest to script some more, you’re going to apply.

A lot of you have the knowledge that majority of the world doesn’t and time on your hands, do you know how powerful extremely fortunate you are, to have time AND knowledge? i don’t think alot of you understand how much of a privilege that is you are unstoppable yet you stop yourself out of fear that you will “fail” to tap into the void and let yourself down. You are so privileged to know what you know and to have the time to apply it, so do it, your not gonna scroll on tiktok for a few more minutes or shove a million subliminals down your throat to “prep yourself” you’re just going to take a breath and do it. Induce pure consciousness, and if you fall asleep scrap that assumption and do it again.

Look at your life right now, do you honestly like it, do you like envying others for having what you can have at the snap of the fingers. Do you like the life you are living?

I want you to tell yourself that you will not be the reason for your own demise. you will NOT be the reason that it’s 2026,27,28 and so on and you don’t have what you want.

please just go and apply, i don’t even know you guys and it hurts watching you kill time when you could’ve had everything a day ago, an hour ago heck even 5 minutes ago.

apply apply apply, don’t let this feeling be the reason you “fail” 💋🍑