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hoshigray · 7 months ago

Note

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞��

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

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biromanticwritergal · 1 year ago

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I have no idea what I'm going to do for NaNoWriMo this year. I feel very uninspired lately.

I just want to do well in my class and my energy has been low lately (season change on my new medicine, I'm guessing???). I need some energy because it's Shakespeare and I need to keep my grades up to stay in the honors society (no pressure lol).

Much More in the tags as per usual... :P

#also it's grad school so C's are effectively F's which is fun #I got into the honor's society this term but wow I don't know how I managed that (truly)#I switched medications half way through grad school so I feel like a different person wrote that Anne Bronte paper even though it was me!!!#sorry but Shakespeare is not my favorite but he's better than other stuff I've read lately #I'm more of a Romantics/Victorian reader but I like the history aspect of the middle ages and renaissance so I can probs get INTO it #I read A Little Life right before class started and yikes yikes yikes- it's the worst thing I've read in a while :(#I try to read some popular literature as well as the classics #I try to understand why certain books are popular but sometimes it misses me entirely #maybe my taste is really bad but that book could have been better if Jude's suffering wasn't so drawn out (800+ pages...)#it became too much for me tbh #the best book (play) I've read in a while is Richard III #again probably my bad taste but so far Richard III is the top Shakespeare play #I am reading 8 of his plays for my class so we'll see how they all compare- if anyone is interested in that?#King Lear was not as good imo and I have to rewatch/reread Henry V before I can offically give my opinion of that one #my paper is going to be on Richard and Henry so you will probably get shit posts about them and their plays #you're welcome I guess?#maybe I'll post some pictures of the new (used) books I bought off my beloved thriftbooks? It's been a while since I've done that #I feel like I haven't posted any updates in a while so here they are #hope everyone is doing at least okay if not great- it's a weird season #irl updates #grad school #mychatter

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honeyhotteoks · 3 months ago

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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 (section 1) (section 2) | three | four | five 🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board

note: please enjoy this truly self indulgent romance. will be four five 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.

#yunho #jeong yunho #honeyhotteoks fic #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho ff #yunho smut #yunho fluff #ateez #ateez fic #ateez ff

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mrsstarkey1 · 3 months ago

Text

getting rafe hooked on dress to impress

my fav thing i’ve ever written i can’t even lie

word count: 1.2k

obx masterlist

you yawned loudly and abnoxiously as you walked into rafe’s bedroom. you kicked your shoes off, grabbing one of rafe’s t-shirts from his drawer, changing out of your uncomfortable clothes. “didn’t think you were coming back, it’s late as fuck.” rafe said, looking at you oddly as he sat up on the bed against the headboard.

“longest fucking day of my life. need to unwind.”

rafe smirked, reaching his whole body over the bed to grab your forearm. "like the sound of that," he mumbles.

you let yourself move toward him, but you groan, “not like that.” rafe momentarily pouts, but doesn’t let go of your arm. in fact, he pulls you closer onto the bed with him urging you to cuddle up into him.

he snakes his arm around you, soft fingers tracing circles into your side. "wanna talk about it?"

you yawn and shake your head, "nah, can we just watch a movie or something?"

rafe nods, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "you don't wanna watch some chick-flick do you?" he asks, grimacing already.

you sigh dramatically, “i guess not. fast and furious?”

rafe obligies, satisfied with your suggestion. you get comfortable on the bed, your head rested on rafe's shoulder and your phone rested on his chest as you scroll through tiktok.

about 20 minutes later, you see a video about the new halloween update on dress to impress and gasp before you can stop yourself. rafe jumps slightly, eyes wide. “jesus christ, what’s wrong?”

"sorry, nothing," you grin apologetically, "can I borrow your laptop though?"

he looks at you like you've lost your mind, but he still grabs his macbook from the nightstand, handing it over to you. you sit up excitedly, leaning up against the headboard.

you open the laptop and sign into your roblox account, side eyeing rafe as he gives you an odd look. "the fuck are you doing?"

"playing a game," you respond innocently.

he raises his eyebrows, "roblox? wheezie used to play that shit.. when she was 8," he says, judging you hardcore.

you glare at him, "you don't understand," you sigh. "just watch me play, it's genuinely fun."

he watches you click on dress to impress, making a disgusted face. "yeah I can't defend you on this one," he says and you shove his shoulder.

"well have you ever played dress to impress?" you ask him.

"obviously not," he says, his sassy side on full display.

"well don't judge then. just watch and i'll let you play a round when i'm done," you say with a smile, patting his cheek softly.

"hell nah," he says, directing his attention back to the movie.

you shake your head, giving up on getting him to play. you start a round, looking around at all the new pieces they added. the theme is holiday for your first round, so of course you do halloween.

you notice rafe's eyes on the computer screen as his curiosity clearly starts to creep back in despite himself. he watches as you piece together combination of a witch hat, spiderweb dress, and dark boots.

“what even is this shit?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly intrigued.

you grin, not taking your eyes off the screen since you only have a minute left. “you compete with other people to make the best outfit based on a theme. you'd be pretty good at it, you've got great style," you say, trying to persuade him.

he gives you a look, shaking his head, "sounds dumb as fuck," he says, and you just laugh. he's silent for a moment before turning slightly to have a better view of the screen, "so what you just like... dress them up and shit?"

you nod, watching the time run out. "yes, then everyone votes on each outfit and the top 3 get on the podium. see," you point to the screen, "the voting's starting now."

an outfit that's completely off theme struts down the runway and you grimace, "see like that one's ugly as fuck so i give it a 1. oooh look, this ones mine," you say with a proud smile. "doesn't she look great?"

rafe shrugs, "i guess."

you ended up getting third place, losing to two terrible outfits. you curse under your breath, before turning to him. “you wanna try a round?” you smile, looking up at him.

rafe scoffs, glancing back at the movie, but curiosity gets the better of him. “alright, fine, hand it over.” he takes the laptop.

"okay the theme is beach day," you tell him.

he hums in response, looking around at the clothes aimlessly. "rafe, you gotta pick something that actually matches,” you say, stifling a laugh as he pairs a yellow bikini top with neon green shorts.

"shh, I have a vision," he says, dismissing your words. "wait why the fuck doesn't she have a face?"

"you gotta go to the makeup and hair room, over there," you point at the screen.

he scrolls through the makeup options, finally decided on one. "mhm, she bad ain't she?" you chuckle, knowing rafe is secretly loving this.

time runs out just as he adds the coconut drink, and you see him watching the screen eagerly, waiting for the voting to end. one girl dressed in long pants and a jacket walks out and he looks over at you, disgusted, "this bitch didn't even look at the theme." all you can do is laugh and nod your head in agreement.

when rafe places second, he smirks, looking way too pleased with himself. "ha," he says, "i did better than you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah you're done playing," you say, snatching the laptop back.

the next night, you texted rafe that you were gonna come over after your morning shift and you didn't get a response, which was odd. you let yourself into his house with the key he'd given you. "rafe?" you called out, walking into the living room. "you here?" no response.

you furrowed your eyebrows, walking up the stairs. maybe he was just in his room, you thought, taking a nap or something. you creak open his bedroom door, met with the scene of him sitting on his bed, looking intently at his laptop.

his eyes shoot up to look at you and he slams his laptop closed, guilty look in his eye. you raise your eyebrows, "what were you doing?" you question him, walking toward the bed.

he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, shaking his head. "nothin.'"

your eyes narrow, "were you watching porn?" you joke, sitting down next to him.

he sighs, "worse.." he trails off. he mentally debates for a minute, before pulling his laptop back into his lap, opening it slowly to reveal dress to impress on full display.

your hand shoots to cover your mouth, laugh escaping your lips anyway. all he does is glare at you, "this is your fucking fault."

you lean into him with a laugh, "I know I know, sorry. don't be embarrassed, rafe." you press a kiss to his lips.

as you kiss him, you can’t help but laugh again, glancing at his screen. "okay wait that's actually a cute outfit. you're getting good," you nudge him, "fashionista," you add quietly with a chuckle.

he looks at you straight-faced, "I'm only playing this dumbass game because you dragged me into it. i was just bored so,” he gestures to the screen.

“sure, rafe, whatever you say,” you tease, cuddling up beside him. "feel free to keep playing, don't stop at my expense."

he scoffs, but gives in and restarts the game.

you wrap your arm around his middle and watch as he puts together outfit after outfit, the grin rarely leaving your face.

you just love your little fashionista.

----

requests are OPEN 💌

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jupiterpilgrim · 3 months ago

Text

The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed

Seulgi x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K

The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.

"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."

You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."

"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."

"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.

Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.

"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"

Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."

The blood drains from your face as realization hits.

Fuck.

Those folders.

The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...

"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.

"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."

"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"

"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."

Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.

"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."

"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"

"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"

Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.

"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."

Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?

"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."

You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."

"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."

Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.

"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"

Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.

"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."

Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."

Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."

The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."

"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"

You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.

"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."

That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.

You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.

"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."

You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.

Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.

"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.

Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."

You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.

"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.

"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."

You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."

You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.

"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."

You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.

Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."

You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."

"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."

You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.

"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."

"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."

But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."

You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.

"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."

You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.

"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."

"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."

You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.

"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."

Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.

"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."

You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."

"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."

You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.

"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."

She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.

"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."

You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."

Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.

Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.

After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."

She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."

Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."

You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.

"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.

"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."

You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.

"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."

You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.

"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."

Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.

"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.

"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."

You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."

"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."

You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.

Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."

You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.

"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.

"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"

"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."

The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.

You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."

You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.

"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."

She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.

"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."

"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"

Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"

You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."

"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."

"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"

"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."

Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.

"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."

"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.

"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.

"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."

Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."

You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.

"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."

"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.

"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"

"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."

Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."

"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."

The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.

"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."

"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."

You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.

"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."

"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."

A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.

"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."

You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.

"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.

"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."

"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”

Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”

“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”

She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”

“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”

“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”

“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”

You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?

The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...

The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.

"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."

She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"

"Want to come find out for yourself?"

"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."

You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."

Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.

"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.

You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.

"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.

Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.

"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"

"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."

You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.

"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."

You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.

"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.

"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”

She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.

You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.

"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.

You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.

"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.

You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.

Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.

You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.

"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.

You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.

"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”

She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.

You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.

"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.

"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."

Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.

She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.

You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.

"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."

You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.

"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.

You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.

"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."

She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.

"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.

When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.

"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."

Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.

You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."

"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"

You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."

Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.

"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"

You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.

The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.

"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"

Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”

You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."

Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."

Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.

"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."

She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."

You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."

"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.

"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.

"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"

You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.

When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.

She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.

"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."

She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.

"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."

"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."

The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.

"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."

You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.

"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."

"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.

—

After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.

"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.

She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."

"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."

"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."

Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.

Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"

You grin, pushing your plate aside.

"Who’s pretending?”

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alienzil · 1 year ago

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Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #Adult Danny #Parenting out of spite #Bat dad #Batfamily shenanigans #bat kids #There's a mug in the manor #It says Number One Dad #Bruce and Danny constantly steal it from each other #Bruce/Danny?#Maybe #they're both idiots #But they love their kids

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strwbabydoll · 3 months ago

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The Feeling Came Late (I’m Still Glad I Met You)

pairings: grumpy!college student! Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 2/? (wc: 3.4k)

masterlist

001 | 01 | 02

- - - -

Chapter 2: Surprise, Surprise

Harry wakes up to the sound of his phone dinging and he grumbles as he sits up and stretches. He looks around and stops his tired gaze at the small window next to his bed. It's dark with just a hint of sunlight beginning to cut through the glass windows, this is definitely not the scenery he's used to when he awakes from his slumber. Groggily he grabs his phone with one hand and rubs his left eye with the other, turns on the phone and hisses as he squints.

He quickly turns the brightness of the screen down to a manageable setting and mumbles under his breath when he sees it's a little past six in the morning.

"Who the fuck is awake right now and why are they trying to talk to me. Someone better be fucking dying." The message is from an unknown number, the numbers staring at him tauntingly.

///

Unknown: hey. it's y/n. i got your number from principal Oscar. lmk whenever works best for you and i'll do my best to arrange my schedule otherwise! :)

— — —

He grumbles once more about the timing of the text and stares at the screen trying to think of an appropriate response. He could and absolutely wants to just leave her on read and never talk to her again. That seems like the most appropriate since she interrupted his sleep, why is she even up this early? But maybe he should show a sliver of compassion and reply to the text briefly before going back to sleep.

He decides on not texting back, simply because all this thinking of replying, responses and times is making his head hurt, so he sets his phone back onto the small wooden table beside his bed and clambers back into the warm cocoon of his blankets. Wrapping himself in the thick blanket, he sighs blissfully as his head relaxes into the soft cushiony bed. He begins to close his eyes and go back to sleep, the pleasant warm feeling of sleep very quickly approaching him.

Just as soon as he gets comfortable and almost falls asleep, his phone dings once more. He grumbles as he throws the blanket off of him and grabs his phone once again. The same numbers teasing him as another text comes through.

///

Unknown: this is harry right? i'm so sorry if this isn't!

////

He rolls his eyes as he mumbles, his fingers typing away on the keyboard as he sends his response.

Harry: Yes, it's me. In case you haven't noticed, it's five in the morning. I was asleep.

///

He gets a response almost immediately, as if she was staying in the chat waiting for a response.

Unknown: yes i know! why are you still sleep? i like to get my day started early!

Harry: Because no one in their right mind is up this early.

Unknown: sorry for waking you! just wanted to see what times and days work best for you. :)

Harry: Give me a couple hours.

Unknown: okay! have a good nap! :)

— — —

He mumbles again as he sets his phone grumpily back on the table, wrapping himself back into his blanket just to find it's not as warm anymore. He mutters under his breath, silently complaining about her up so early and choosing to annoy him so early as well, and to top it off she made him lose the warmth of his blankets. He wraps himself up in the blanket and lays back down, resting his head on the soft pillow as he closes his eyes.

Opening his eyes once more a couple hours later, he gets up and stretches once again. The muscles in his back pops smoothly and he groans softly. He gets out of his bed and quickly makes his bed, wrinkles sit in the middle of the blanket as he sets his pillow on top, but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels much better after getting another couple hours of sleep.

He heads into the bathroom and relieves his bladder, sighing in relief as it empties. Shutting the lid down, he flushes the toilet and heads to the sink so he can wash his hands. After he's finished, he brushes his hair and puts it in a man bun.

Walking over to the small dresser where he keeps his clothes, he opens his needed drawers and pulls out an outfit. Settling on a white Rolling Stones t-shirt and some black skinny jeans, he gets dressed and makes sure he puts on his signature rings. Once he's done with that, he sprays his Tom Ford cologne and grabs his phone, responding to the very few notifications he does have and stares at Y/N's name in his message list.

Her simple text stares at him, somehow politely demanding a response from a couple hours ago. He huffs and mutters 'fucks sake' under his breath as he clicks on it and begins to type out his response.

///

Harry: I'm available anytime

///

Not too long after, just long enough for him to set his phone in his pocket and slip on his brown Chelsea boots, his phone dings.

///

Y/N: okay! um how about tomorrow around 6 at the library?

— — —

Harry laughs dryly at her enthusiasm as he sends a plain thumbs up, the yellow emoji a stark contrast in the very one sided text conversation, and afterwards he heads out the small bedroom in his dorm and heads to the front door. He passes the various pictures of his roommate and his girlfriend and a couple of pictures showcasing his orange kitten, Delilah, in various moments. She was wrapped up in a soft towel from the day Harry brought her home, and other moments where he thought she looked pretty and decided to capture the moment.

All the pictures are neatly hung in a long cardboard frame, colorful tacks adding a pop of color to the otherwise boring wall of pictures. The small hallway leads to a basic living room, a simple gray futon sits alongside the cream colored wall with a modern artistic sketch hanging above it, a dark brown bookshelf holding all their movies and the very few books and textbooks they happen to own is placed next to the futon, and a small dresser underneath a decently sized tv.

In the corner of the living room area sits a small gray cat bed and Delilah lays there peacefully sleeping in a little ball, her tail twitching occasionally. The ends of Harry's lips begin to curl upwards at the sight as he slowly walks over to the small dresser designated just for her. He silently opens the top drawer and opens the small can containing her food. The smell quickly floods his nose and he grimaces as he walks over to her food bowl and pouring it in there, silently gagging as it squelches into the bowl.

He throws away the now empty can in the small trash can and grabs her water bowl walking over to the dresser once again and fills it with a small water bottle sitting in the top drawer. He sets it down beside the food one carefully because he doesn't feel like cleaning up water right now and walks back to the dresser. He opens the second one and grabs a few of her favorite toys and sets them under the coffee table in the living room, allowing her something to do while he's gone and turns on the tv. Quickly pulling up her favorite tv show - Animal Planet - he walks over to her and very gently rubs the top of her head. He coos at her softly to coax the sleepy kitten awake.

Delilah stretches and yawns as she opens her eyes, focusing on Harry crouching above her, she lets out a tired but happy meow as she nuzzles her face into Harry's hand.

"Good morning, sweet girl. I gotta get to school but you got everything set up for you, just how you like. I love you and I'll be back soon." He says with a small laugh as he gives the small kitten a couple extra pets and gets back up, stretching slightly as he heads to the door, making sure to grab his signature leather jacket from the futon as he opens the door and heads out.

— — —

It doesn't take him long to head to the campus thanks to his dorm being a short drive from the campus. He parks his car in an empty space nearest the school and he sits in the car after he turns it off. He watches her as she walks to the bike rack, her long hair flowing gently behind her as she walks due to the wind blowing. She's dressed in an olive green sweater and dark blue Levi pants that flare at the end, she'd pair it with some white Nike Air Forces, a medium sized white tote bag and a matching olive green thin belt, he can see the small shimmer of her jewelry shine when the sun hits it as she ties her bike to the small rack.

He turns the key to shut off his car and opens the door, slowly stepping outside the car as he puts on his jacket. He closes the door with a soft slam and locks it, the beep alerting the girl as she turns around, her hair briefly swishing in front of her face as she turns. He watches as she frowns in anticipation of a snarky remark but returns to normal when it doesn't happen. He slowly makes his way to the entrance, purposely avoiding eye contact with her as he grows closer. He hopes she gets the hint to leave him the hell alone, and wants to keep their interactions to an absolute minimum.

"Hey!" He hears her voice ring out from behind her but his pace doesn't falter, he actually starts walking just a tad bit faster in an attempt to get inside before she reaches him. He makes it to the top of the steps before he feels a soft hand grip his shoulder and a tug, signaling him to turn around. He slowly turns around, face deadpanned and he takes a deep breath.

"What?"

"Any place specific you want to meet in the library?" She asks softly and he shakes his head as he turns around swiftly and starts his journey into the school once again. He can feel her presence behind him and his frown begins to form.

He chooses to ignore her as they walk, the chatter of the other students in the hall filling their ears as they continue. One of Harry's friends, Alex, walks up to Harry with a big smile as he pays his shoulder and glares at Y/N.

"How you doin' Haz?" He asks and Harry's frown only deepens at the unwanted conversation.

"Not now Alex." He shakes his head as he heads to his locker. He can hear Alex scoff as he walks away but he can still feel her presence behind him.

He scoffs lightly as he gets to his locker, one ringed hand reaching up to twist the little knob to the correct numbers and opens the door. He quickly grabs a textbook and slams it shut and he walks away, leaving a hurt and confused Y/N standing at the locker.

— — —

She can't help but frown at Harry's more than usual grumpy behavior as she heads to her own locker, true enough she was the main reason why he's so grumpy but honestly how was she to know he’d still be sleeping? It’s not her fault that she just loves helping people! She should know better than to assume they'd be friends simply because she's tutoring him, but she assumed they'd at least be better than this. She hoped he would be somewhat tolerable, a very silly thought of hers because when is he ever tolerable? She doesn’t know how it came to be this way. She can remember a time where the two of them were cordial and even dared to say the best of friends, but then something changed and she wishes she knew what it was.

She wishes she could just go back in time and watch the two of them under a microscope to see what went wrong, to figure out why he hates her. She misses him terribly, but that’s kept locked away in a box of her feelings and emotions never to be seen again alongside her favorite childhood memories.

She huffs in frustration when she can't get the lock to open, her combination not seeming to work as she twists and twists. She swears it's the right one, so she tries once more and she's met with once again the lock not opening.

"Come on!" She huffs as she stares at the lock intently. Beginning to think that maybe she changed the lock combination, she tries a different sequence of the same numbers and after a couple of tries she finally hears the satisfying click as the lock opens.

She quickly grabs the textbooks for her first two classes and shuts it gently as she walks to her first class, her tote bag gently bouncing off her hip as she walks. She just barely makes it to her first class before the teacher closes the door, her hand pushing on the tall wooden door as she cries out 'wait please!' The door opens and she sees the teacher smile softly as he lets her in.

"Just in time Y/N, have a seat." He says and she nods silently, with her head down she quietly makes her way over to an empty seat towards the back of the class. Grabbing her notebook and a pen out of her bag, she begins to write down the title of the notes she's gonna be taking and pulls her assignment due from the front of the notebook as well.

— — —

Time seems to fly in front of her eyes, the day taking not nearly as long as it usually feels like as she gets released from her last class of the day. With a smile on her face, she plugs her earbuds in her phone as she walks through the halls, stopping briefly to answer any questions from her classmates and to wave goodbye to her teachers.

She spots Harry talking to a pretty brunette, one of more popular girls who also happens to be on the cheerleading team she thinks, her lips pulled back into a dazzling smile as she twirls her hair around her finger as she speaks. Hesitantly, she makes her way over and taps him on the shoulder, meekly saying 'excuse me' and she's greeted with a very nasty glare from the girl.

"Um, we're talking." The girl says with a frown on her face. Y/N can't help the flush of embarrassment that begins to heat her cheeks up as she looks down.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to remind Harry of the library. It's at six, if you can't make it or gonna be late, just let me know." Y/N's voice comes out quietly as she speaks, her hands subconsciously moving to her front as she begins to play with her fingers.

Harry lets out a very unenthusiastic 'uh huh' as his eyes never leave the brunette's and he begins to talk to her once more, completely ignoring the other girl behind him as the brunette smirks and plays with the collar of his t-shirt. When she realizes that he isn't paying attention, she frowns slightly before making her way out of the school building as music plays in her ears.

She mumbles curses to Harry under her breath as she unties her bike and sets the cord in her bag. Hopping on her bike, she begins her ride back to her apartment. She smiles as she passes the cars and families out and about, their joy and love radiating off of them making her smile and aw. As she continues biking, she makes a quick stop at her favorite flower shop, propping her bike against the side of the store and she quickly walks in. The smell of all the flowers welcome her warmly as well as the bright smile of the lady standing behind the counter.

"Y/N! So good to see you! How've you been?" She asks and Y/N smiles as she walks up to the counter.

"Hi Tameka! I'm good, how are you?" Y/N asks and Tameka responds with great enthusiasm as she starts telling the younger girl about her kids and how the store's been getting along.

Y/N loves coming to this flower shop because no matter how long she stays away, she's always greeted with a warm welcome, one that reminds her of her mother at a young age. The shop gives her a sense of family no matter what happens, and she's never been more grateful. After Tameka finishes rambling on about her life, she turns her attention to the younger girl as she props her head onto folded manicured hands and flashes her a warm smile.

"Here to get the usuals? Anything new to update me on chica?" Y/N shakes her head with a small laugh as she leans on the counter.

"Of course, you know I never stray. And no new updates unless you count having to tutor the boy who seems to hate my existence an update." She says and sighs, the thought of having to do so is a big damper on her happiness and a heavy weight on her heart — it’s not that she doesn’t want to tutor him, she just knows that it’ll be like pulling teeth with him. She’ll have to pry answers out of him and will more than likely be the worst tutoring session ever, she’ll be exhausted afterwards.

She can't help but to wonder how it'll go, will he be the same as he is in school? Is he gonna spend the whole time mocking her and poking fun (he most definitely will, she’s sure of it. He won’t turn down an opportunity to annoy her and get under her skin), or will he be kind and listen to her (maybe in another universe, some alternate reality where they’re cordial. She’s silly to even think this was a suggestion, she should know him by now), asking questions whenever he's confused? Will the session end in a screaming match as he tests her limits or will it be calm as he complies and agrees to her help.

As she pays for her flowers, she can't help but to ask herself those questions. She knows wondering won't help determine the outcome of the coming day, but she knows there's only one way to find out.

She makes her way home, her bouquet of flowers sitting neatly in her tote bag as she rides along. She takes pleasure in the feeling of the wind brushing against her skin and flowing through her hair as she pedals along. The sound of people chatting on the sidewalks and the sound of cars whirring by her and honking at others fill her ear and she just smiles. She enjoys the sound of her community while others might say that it’s too loud and there’s no peace in all of the noise, she says otherwise. She can’t imagine her city in silence, to not listen to the usual sound because it’s all she knows.

She makes it home and parks her bike beside her apartment, tying it up and making it inside the building. She heads down the short hall and to her door, unlocking it and walks inside and smiles at the sereneness of her own space. She locks the door behind her and sits down on the couch with her notebook and her favorite pen, thinking of the best way to carry out these sessions with Harry. What would be the best approach and everything to do with it. She wants to make sure that he understands that she’s not going to allow him to just walk all over her and cheat his way through.

She wants to actually help him, not just give him what he wants; she wants to give him what he needs and what he needs is someone to take time out of their day and work with him, cater the worksheets and lessons to how he learns best so he can actually learn the information. She can only hope for the best as she begins to write out a plan for the next few weeks, she just knows that she’s going to need all the luck dealing with Harry.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one direction #harrystyles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x fem!reader #— 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

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thesweetestofdreams · 4 months ago

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hot chocolate

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (852 words)

warnings: should be none, just a little stress cry/ burnout

a/n: Do I like this? I have no idea. The boys help to comfort you on a late night that has you stressed.

Reaching out to his left, James expects to find your warmth. Instead all he feels are empty sheets. The fuzziness of sleep threatens to pull him back down, but your absence keeps him up.

He pads through your small apartment doing his best not to wake your boyfriends still sleeping behind him. The small spike of panic he felt at not finding you eases as he finally does.

You've got your back to him, typing away at your computer at the kitchen table.

"And I'm the one not allowed to have coffee after six," he says softly once he's closer. You hardly glance at him, still typing. "Love," he says, a hand gently coming to cover yours. "Do you know how late it is?"

Your heart melts as you finally look at him. He's rubbing sleep from his eyes, knocking his glasses off kilter. He looks warm and soft around the edges. It's enticing but your work's not going to do itself. "I'll come to bed in just a minute, Jamie. I should really finish this."

He points at the time on your computer, 3:48 blares at you and you realize how much your eyes sting from staring at the screen. "Come on," he says, his grip now a soft tug at your wrist.

"Just let me finish this paragraph." You're trying to bargain, having the feeling you'll probably lose.

"It can wait, love." He's looking at you with soft eyes and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You hear shuffling behind you. Now you're really in for it.

Remus comes into view, his oversized shirt- probably one of James’- askew on his shoulders, followed by a scowling Sirius. “How dare you make us go on a man-hunt at three in the morning.” Sirius crosses his arms trying to look angry, but he still comes up to rest his chin on your shoulder. His nose tickles your cheek, “Let’s go to bed my love.”

Remus walks further into the kitchen of your tiny apartment. You remember the day you moved in, you ate ramen over a cardboard box as a kitchen table. Now as he stands across the table from you Remus reaches over to slowly close your laptop.

You stop him halfway, and he gives you a knowing look. “I’m really not tired, honestly I won't be able to sleep until I finish this,” you say quickly returning to typing.

Remus sighs, looking to James for help, but it’s Sirius who comes to his aid. “Well then I guess we’re all staying up,” Sirius says, his chin digging into your shoulder and sleep muddling his words, “but when I wake up with dark circles that’s on you.”

“No go to bed, I won’t be long.” You try to focus on your work, but Sirius worms his arms under yours, wrapping around you. “Siri, please.” Your head is starting to hurt from forcing your eyes to stay open, and the warmth coming off of him only makes the fight harder.

“What are you doing, Remus?” you ask, hearing the kitchen cabinets open and close.

“I’m making hot chocolate.” He grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet followed by three more.

“You don’t have to do that Rem.” Your eyes are still stinging.

“I already opened the packet.” He says it with a finality that tells you, you’ve hardly any choice in the matter.

“I’ll get the marshmallows,” James adds, sounding far too excited for this time of night.

Before you can stop it your eyes fill with tears, blurring your computer screen. You hide your face in your hands. “Are you okay, love?” Sirius asks, suddenly sounding much more awake. You can’t stop it as much as you want to, your tears flow leaving your boyfriends flustering to help you.

“Dove.” Remus kneels beside you. “Let’s take a break, yeah? It can wait until tomorrow.”

You hear the soft click of your computer shutting as you nod. James holds your hand across the table. “You’re all too nice to me,” you say, it comes out half laugh half sob.

“All that work is scrambling your brain,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulders.

You let Remus pull you to the couch where he brushes stray tears from your cheeks. You melt into his side. He plants soft kisses into your hair.

James and Sirius come with cups of hot chocolate almost overflowing with marshmallows. The cups are soon abandoned as the rich chocolate threatens to drag you all to sleep right on the spot.

When you eventually make it to bed through fits of yawns and tired shuffling, you realize you’re finally exactly where you want to be. Sirius falls asleep practically on top of James.

Remus pulls the blanket to your chin. “Too nice,” he laughs quietly to himself. You swat at his arm. As you fall asleep, he listens to the rise and fall of your breath. You deserve all the niceness of the world, and he would make hot chocolate in the middle of every night if it meant you felt even a bit of it.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #marauders x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #x reader #marauders era #the marauders #dead gay wizards from the 70s #marauders fluff #I love Remus so much it's borderline hard to write for him lol

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

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The First Meet Self-Aware!Xavier

Sometimes maybe you're just the Juliet to his Romeo. Nothing more than a tragic love story, but what if you could rewrite the stars? pt. 1 here A/N: Before you fight me just read okay? Kisses 💋

Self-Aware!Xavier who's been blinding you with your screen brightness lately “Since when can you do that?” “I was testing the limits of my evol recently and figured it out cool right?” “Yes very cool but please stop blinding me it hurts”

It only took asking once for Xavier to stop adjusting your screen brightness. However he has been acting strange. It feels like he's hiding something; not necessarily something he can't tell you about more like something doesn't want to tell you about. Checking the app turned into a more frequent occurrence when he started disappearing constantly. You would often open the app to find the home screen cafe empty.

“Xavier!” the screen flashes and you see him appear with that same soft smile directed right at you “I’m here what do you need?” you stared at him unsure if you should accuse him of anything due to his strange actions lately. You didn't want to argue with him so you pushed your feelings down and sighed “Nothing just wondered where you went”

“I’m right here I'll always be here” He moved closer to the screen to get a better look at your eyes. “Is that all you were wondering?” You couldn't help, but sigh heavily as your curiosity got the best of you. “What have you been doing lately?” Stupid. Stupid. You mentally kicked yourself as the words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them. Why are you so jealous that he might be with in-game MC? It’s not like you can actually be with him. “Like I told you before I've been testing my evol” it still felt like he was hiding something under that soft gaze of his. You narrowed your eyes at hime “Xav if you want to spend more time with MC you don’t need to hide it from me” you could feel that terrible lump forming in your throat as reality set in that no matter how much you loved him; he’s not yours and never will be. Before he could answer you shook your head willing your tears to stay at bay “I have to go I'll be back later” you closed the app right as his mouth opened to say something.

You stopped opening the app after that. You thought that maybe if you stayed away long enough things would go back to normal and he wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore. How do you grieve someone who doesn’t exist?

1 week later....

Since that conversation you’re not sure if you’ve become more sensitive to light or if you just happen to keep getting glares in your eyes because you’re just unlucky enough to be right where one can shine right in your eyes. You kept the lights in your house low or even just off to keep the light from blinding you. These constant blinding flashes of light were killing your head so you started wearing sunglasses everywhere and even using the walls to be your guide around your place because it was easier to just walk around in the dark.

Tonight was different though as you made your way to your bedroom your head was fuzzy along with your vision “I need to go to the eye doctor my vision may be getting worse” staggering to your bed you fell face first onto your bed and passed out. Your body felt weightless as if you were floating on a cloud. Your eyes fluttered open to see an expanse of stars and milky ways as far as the eye can see. “Y/N”

There was a voice, but it sounded as if it was underwater. “Y/N?” Words failed you as you tried to answer “I'm…. tired…..” you words were slurred and your eyelids were heavy. “Let’s go home together” the voice was much clearer now. “Xav….ier?” succumbing to the drowsiness that had you in a vice grip, your head fell back as everything went dark.

You jolted awake only to immediately be blinded by the sun shining in through the window. “At least it didn't give me a headache this time” You mumbled to yourself as you yawned into a big stretch. Your vision was clear again a stark contrast from what you fell asleep with. You started to take in your surroundings taking note that this wasn’t your room “Am I lucid dreaming?”

“The sun is too bright turn it off” a groggy voice whined next to you. Without thinking you kicked your leg out connecting directly with the strangers crotch who audibly groaned in pain. You sprinted out of the room only to realize you had no clue where you were. Rustling could be heard from the bedroom so there was no time to waste as long as you made it out of here as quick as possible. Freedom was within reach as you came up on the front door or at least you hoped it was the front door; only to be grabbed by your forearm and yanked back.

“I will scream bloody murder!” You yelled as you fought against this persons iron grip. “It’s me! Y/N it’s me open your eyes” not even realizing you were already screaming bloody murder with your eyes closed ; you opened them to see those deep blue eyes you’d dreamt about. “Xavier? Am I hallucinating?” You pulled your arm again and Xavier let go this time. You rapidly scanned the room and noticed this place looked exactly how it did in the game “There’s no way i’m standing in your apartment right now” You pinched the back of your hand and winced in pain.

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded “Welcome to my home” you circled him skeptically eyeing him up and down. “Explain yourself”

“I was testing if I could manipulate the light in your world and it turned out that I could” That’s when it hit you that it was Xavier who’d been blinding you with light. You weren’t sure if you were pissed or flattered that he was trying to get your attention while you were ignoring him. No he literally made your life a living hell with that of course you were pissed. You took deep breaths as you tried to gather your thoughts. “So it was you that kept blinding me Xavier that gave me such insane headaches why would you do that?” You threw your arms up in exasperation as you began to pace. “I wanted your attention and you wouldn’t talk to me” He approached you with careful steps as you backed up at the same time. All those repressed feelings you had for the last week quickly surfaced just from looking at him. His face became blurry as your eyes filled with tears; just as you went to turn away you bumped into the kitchen counter. You stumbled to a stop as Xavier trapped you between himself and the counter. “Why did you leave me?” His lips pressed together in a thin line and you could tell he was trying to keep himself calm as well.

“Because we can’t be together Xav….” Your voice cut off as you choked up trying to keep your tears from falling. “Why not I'm right here” he had a point, but you don’t belong here; this isn’t your home and Xavier already has someone he was literally made to be with. “I can’t stay here Xav I can’t come between you and-” You yelped as he lifted you onto the counter and slotted himself between your soft thighs that were still bare from going to bed in a large t-shirt and spandex shorts. “I cut through time, space and reality to have you in front of me” His hands lingered on your thighs softly drawing circles with his thumbs. "Do you truly believe I want anyone other than you?" You went slack-jawed at his confession of how he managed to bring you here “You what?”

He dropped his head and exhaled a raspy chuckle, but there was no amusement in it “I was so lost when you stopped coming to see me I thought I was losing my mind” This man really did the impossible to get to you; there’s no way you could ever tell a single soul about this or you’ll be thrown head first into a mental asylum. The feeling of Xavier’s hand on your cheek pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. He gently wiped away a stray tear that you hadn’t even realized escaped. “You’re breathtaking in person” The blue in his irises was damn near non-existent as he studied your face almost as if he was trying to permanently burn the image into his mind. His stare was so intense it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off of you or you’d disappear.

You softly pushed his shoulder you try and get some distance because it felt like you couldn’t breathe with him this close. “Xavier please….” Your voice trailed off into nothing, but a breathy whisper. You didn’t know what you were asking him for; words seemed to be escaping you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and held it next to your head as he leaned in closer. Your lips parted as your breath became heavy and his gaze immediately dropped to your lips. “Please what?”

Fuck it.

You wriggled your wrist free and grabbed him by the back of his neck slamming your lips onto his. Xavier wasted no time kissing you back, his arms wrapping about your waist pulling you tight against his toned body. Xavier kissed you like a man starved the way he parted your lips to allow his tongue in along with the quick nips and sucks to your bottom lip your mind was going fuzzy as you fell into him with reckless abandon. You drew back gasping for air and Xavier chased your lips pulling you back into a heated makeout session. Before you fell back under his spell you broke away and pressed your fingertips to his lips when he tried to chase you again. His breath was ragged and you could see his rapid pulse fluttering on his neck. Seeing him completely flushed with red cheeks and hot ears gave you butterflies “We should slow down we just met” You teased with a giggle. Xavier rolled his eyes and kissed your nose as he took a step back. You didn’t miss how he quickly adjusted his pants tucking himself into his waistband. “I’m sure you have many questions go ahead I'll answer all of them truthfully”

#xavier salads #love and deepspace #lnds xavier #l&ds xavier #xavier lads #love and deepspace xavier #xavier fluff #lads xavier #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x you #xavier angst #nikaaaaimagine

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madebycloud · 1 month ago

Text

Next To You

jinx/powder x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: christmas comes around, you and your girlfriend prepare for a special day with Isha. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and fluff, domestic, christmas, established relationship, suggestive (making out, innuendo, etc?), modern au, baking, downbad!reader, grumpy!jinx ig but what the hell sure words: 17.6k notes: LATE AF but it is what it is

“Seriously? you want that as the star?” Jinx asks, looking at the star on your hand.

“What? It looks good and it's shiny.”

“It's boring and bland. Nothing special,” she mumbles, walking towards the tree to look for other decorations in a nearby box.

She grumbles while she rummages through the different decorations, tossing aside the ones she didn't like. She pulls out a string of bright pink lights but frowns. Her gaze keeps flickering between the star in your hand and the tree. “We need something new. Something... more.”

She starts looking through the discarded decorations nearby, picking up each and every one only to place it in the trash. “Nothing here? why do we have so many of these stupid things?” She slumps on the couch. “Ughhhhh... can't believe we have these dinky Christmas decorations.”

“That's my money down the drain.” You glance at the amount of decorations the Jinx has discarded. You sigh loudly and sit down next to Jinx, who leans against you.

“All of that was for nothing. So much damn cash wasted.” She groans. “We don't have anything good for the tree. Everything's so shitty.”

“At least the lights look nice.”

Jinx doesn't even glance at them. “There's nothing cool left. It's all so... bleh.” She frowns, kicking a box with her foot. She reaches out and picks up the star in your hands and stares at it. Her face scrunches up. “Look at all this crap. What a waste of money. Everything's just so…” She glances around at the various decorations. “Ordinary.” She lifts her head and gives you a sideways glance. “I'll be damned if that stupid star gets put on top of that tree.”

She tosses the star to the side, watching it roll along the floor. Her eyes flicker from side to side, trying to think of something that'll be a good replacement. She sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “There has to be something better than a star.”

While you're both mulling over options, Isha, who had been quietly playing with her toys, stands up and walks in front of Jinx. She tugs at Jinx's leg, holding up the toy to get her attention. It's a small replica of Fishbones that Jinx made for her.

Jinx looks down at her. She reaches out and grabs it from Isha's hands. “You want this to be the star for our tree?”

She looks up at the tree and then looks down at the toy. She then gets up and stands before the tree. She slowly raises it and tilts it slightly. She nods. “Hmm. Yeah... Maybe…” She looks back at you, holding the toy up with one hand and the other rests on her hip. “What do you think?”

You stand up and walk over to the tree, joining Jinx's side. You look up, and then look at the toy that she's holding. It isn't a normal choice, but it does go with her style. “It's not a bad idea.” You turn back to look at Isha. “What do you think, Isha?”

Isha nods eagerly, grinning widely.

“Well, guess it's decided then!” Jinx says. “You know, this will look even cooler than a boring ass star, huh?”

“Yeah, this kid is a genius.” You approach Isha, lifting her up. Jinx hands the replica to the kid. Isha carefully places the replica on the top of the tree, trying so hard to balance it. Jinx moves in and adjusts it slightly, making sure it's in the best spot.

You set Isha down, ruffling her hair. She swat your hands away, frowning. Once Jinx is satisfied with its placement, she steps back and admires the tree.

She smiles and nudges you with her hip. “Doesn't that look good?” She turns to Isha and nods with a smile. “Good choice, champ!” She then looks over at the pile of discarded decorations, frowning. “Hmm... the others might not match with this.” Jinx thinks for a moment, a finger on her chin. She looks down at the toys Isha had been playing with.

“Hey Isha,” Jinx says, getting her attention. “What if we used some of these toys to decorate too?” She crouches down and looks at the toys scattered on the floor. She starts picking them up one by one, holding them up and examining them closely. “Hmm... These could work…” She mumbles, glancing over at you and the tree.

Small rubber duck, a fish, and a rhino—all toys that she had made for Isha out of scrap materials. She holds each up to the tree, tilting her head, trying to picture how it would look.

She nods to herself. “Yeah. We could use some of these toys.” She turns back to Isha and holds up a duck. “I wonder if we have some ribbons or stuff we can use.” She hands the toy to Isha. “Make sure to hold onto it, okay kiddo?” She ruffles the kid's hair before heading over to a nearby shelf and searching amongst her random junk.

With that decided, you all went to work decorating the tree. Isha tries her best to help, although she can't reach some of the higher branches. You end up putting almost every one of Isha's toys as the ornaments. Isha really likes the blinking lights, so you add a lot of them.

“Almost looks like a rainbow.” Jinx grins, staring at the bright lights. She glances over at you. “Hope we don't break the power with all this electricity.” She snickers. “Not like it hasn't happened before.”

You shrug. It's certainly a possibility, but it wouldn't be the first time it happens. Jinx has the habit of overloading the power in the building with her inventions. It was only a matter of time before it happened. Again.

“If the power goes out, I'm blaming you,” you tease.

She takes things literally when it comes to inventions, and that leads to a bit of strain on the power. You're sure the neighbors are annoyed about it by now.

Jinx jabs you with her elbow. “'Course you would.” She turns her attention back to the Christmas tree while Isha continues to help. She watches Isha struggle to reach the higher branches, and Jinx chuckles. “Kid's got the spirit, at least.”

Isha reaches out, tries to stand on her toes, but still can't reach it. She huffs and glares at the branch.

Jinx watches as Isha struggles. “Hey kiddo,” she says. “Lemme help, alright?” She steps over and lifts Isha up to put the last ornament on the highest branch.

Isha giggles and stretches out her hand to place the last ornament, her fingers grasping at the branch. Jinx holds Isha steady, ensuring she doesn't fall and the tree stays upright.

“There you are,” Jinx says, turning her head to look at Isha. She lowers Isha back down to the ground. “Good work.” She looks over the fully decorated tree. “Well, I think we're almost done here,” she says. “Just need some... Oh!” She glances at a nearby box and grins. “Almost forgot.”

She grabs a marker from somewhere and tears up a nearby box into three pieces, handing one to both you and Isha. “We should draw ourselves,” she mutters. “And put them up on the tree.” She looks at the empty space on the tree near the top and gestures to it.

You sit down on the floor, leaning against the couch, and start drawing on the box, legs stretched out. Jinx follows, sitting down right next to you, her leg draped on top of your own. Isha sits right in front of the tree, her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she works on her drawing.

It's quiet while the three of you draw your own pictures. Jinx leans her head on your side while she works, occasionally peeking over at your drawing and humming to herself.

Once the three of you have finished your drawings, Jinx grabs a pair of scissors to carefully cut the pieces out. “Alright,” she says, “all done.”

She walks over to the tree and reaches up, hanging all three of them. She steps back, putting her hands on her hips, and looks at the tree. She then glances at you and winks in pride.

“What do you think, kiddo? do we look cool?” she asks, turning to look at Isha.

Isha gives a thumbs up, her wide grin showing off her teeth.

Jinx chuckles. “And the artist herself approves.” She stretches her arms. “Now, who's hungry?”

—

“So?” Jinx turns around, letting you take a better look at her Santa Claus costume. The bell on her Santa hat jingles. “How do I look?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

She looks... Ridiculous. Hilarious, but ridiculous.

Jinx adjusts her hat, her fake beard (that's obviously a wig) swinging along with it. The costume looks itchy, but she seems comfortable in it. She grins, posing for you.

“Well,” you start. “I've never seen a Santa's costume quite like that.” You give her costume a once-over. “Though, this is you we're talking about.”

Jinx looks the part of Santa Claus, but it's not the classic outfit you've seen him wear in all those movies, books, and advertising.

Her Santa hat is blue and pink instead of red and white. Her coat is a mix of black, blue, and pink with silver trim. Her pants look like what you'd normally expect from a Santa suit, though they're the same black, blue, and pink colors her coat is but shorter. She's not wearing any boots, choosing her own high-knee boots instead.

She looks like a demented, clownish version of Santa Claus. But she's happy, and it's a good look for her.

“Am I the best Santa or what?” She turns and jingles the bell of her Santa hat. “Ho-ho-ho!”

“The best and the best of the best,” you confirm.

She grins. “I mean, look at me!” She exclaims, holding her arms out. “Doesn't that costume make me look way cooler?” She turns around, giving you a 360. “Way better than all those boring red and white Santas,” she says, turning back to look at you.

She strikes another pose. “Do you think Isha will love it?”

You nod. “She'll love it,” you reply, taking another look at her costume. “She'll love it, because you're wearing it.”

Jinx had the brilliant idea to buy a Christmas costume for Isha, which is why she insisted on getting the costume early to wear on the day of. It's for Isha's sake, of course.

“Of course she will! What child wouldn't want Santa Jinx?” She tugs on her beard. “Anyway…” she says. “Santa can't go around without her trusty reindeers.”

You just know what she's going to say next, and beat her to it before she even considers it. “No, no, no. I am not wearing a costume.”

“Aww, c'mon!” She whines. “We could be Santa and Rudolph the red-nose reindeer together. Santa Jinx and her reindeer buddy.” She pokes your arm. “Won't you do it for Isha?”

You raise your eyebrow at her. She's playing you like a damn fiddle by using Isha's name. You sigh. “...Fine. But only for this Christmas.” That's a bit of a silver lining, at least. This is the only time you'll have to dress up. It's just for Isha. It won't be that bad.

She grins and brings her fingers up to your face to pinch your cheeks. “Yay! Good, now we'll match.” She claps her hands together. “This is going to be a treat and a half! C'mon, you won't regret this.” She grabs your arm and drags you to another aisle, looking around for a costume she thinks will suit you.

She keeps on rambling about how excited she is, mostly about how good she looks.

While walking, people give you both strange looks. After all, seeing a clownish-looking Santa Claus is certainly a sight. You hear someone mutter something along the lines of “What the hell?” under their breath.

She glances at you up and down every now and then, judging which kind would be best. “Gotta find you something nice and Rudolphy.” She browses through the costumes that are hung on the racks, trying to find one that she likes.

After a while, she stops and glances up and down each of the choices before finally settling on one. “This one.” She grabs one from the hanger and holds it up to your chest, observing it, then nodding. “Perfect,” she says. “Put this on, let me see how you look.”

Jinx shoves it into your hands and grabs the reindeer antlers that go along with the costume. She pushes you into the nearest changing room and closes the door on you. You hear her wait on the other side. “Hurry up!” she yells.

There's no running away from this, is there? you don't see any other choice but to put on the damn costume. It's just one day. You can deal with it. It's for Isha anyway. Hopefully your girlfriend doesn't make you wear this for any other occasion.

You grumble as you take off your clothes and put on the costume. It's a bit strange at first, but the costume is pretty similar to a warm sweater. She picks good costumes, you'll admit.

You stand there and stare at yourself in the mirror for a minute.

You look...ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous.

Wearing a goddamn reindeer costume because your girlfriend wanted you to try it on. It's so stupid, yet somehow Jinx pulled off making the costume look good, while yours looks like a bad Halloween costume.

You make a face and scoff at yourself. You're going to look like a total fool and you have a feeling a bunch of people will point and stare.

You can hear Jinx getting impatient from the other side of the door. “How much longer?” This might be more for her entertainment than Isha's Christmas spirit.

You sigh to yourself and grab the reindeer antler headband, putting it on. This is so stupid. Jinx better appreciate this. You take a deep breath and open the door to the changing room.

Jinx waits outside, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. She looks over once the door opens.

She looks you up and down once, twice, three times, then bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, it's... you look... you look,” she says, trying and failing to stop laughing. “You look so cute!” She wheezes. This is absolutely a good decision in her head. This is hilarious, but damn, if it's not cute.

A few people in the store glance at the commotion, wondering why she's laughing so hard.

She grabs your arm and looks over the costume herself, chuckling to herself. “You look adorable.”

As if this couldn't have possibly gotten any more embarrassing, she brings out a red plastic nose with a string attached to it. “Can't forget this little fella.” She brings it up and holds up to your face. “You're not my Rudolph if you don't have a red nose.”

God, she is absolutely reveling in the moment.

You look ridiculous already, what's one more stupid thing? “It looks stupid.” You take the nose from her hand and attach it to your own.

Jinx stifles her laugh, biting her lower lip in an effort to stop herself. “You look so stupid,” she whispers. God knows what people in the building will say.

People are still glancing your way, wondering if you're some kind of cosplay or something... And why is this woman laughing hysterically. You'll say, 'I don't know her', but that will only make it more embarrassing. You just want to walk back home.

There's also a few children who are giggling while looking at you. Probably because they're jealous they aren't wearing a costume.

She takes her phone from her pocket and points it to you. Oh no. “Say 'ho ho ho'!”

You let out a sigh. It's almost a growl from the back of your throat. Damn her. Whatever would make the torture end quicker. “Ho ho ho,” you grumble, forcing a smile.

You hear the camera snap several times. She's smiling so hard it'll be evident that she's enjoying this all too much.

She puts her phone away, looking up at you. “You look so so cute!” She pokes the plastic nose. She then starts walking, still giggling, and glances back over her shoulder. “C'mon, Rudolph, let's keep looking around.”

—

“Finally. Only took half a damn hour for her to go to sleep.” You step back and look at the bedroom door. You've both been trying to get Isha to sleep for what feels like forever. You're both tired, and it's the night before Christmas. Of course she'll be up late.

“Took forever,” Jinx responds.

You have so much to do to prepare. With Isha asleep, the house is quiet. Both of you make your way to the living room to prepare the gifts.

Jinx grabs some wrapping paper, the ones with Christmas themes designed on them, as well as a big roll of scotch tape and some ribbons. You grab the presents you and Jinx plan to give Isha. There's quite a lot, given that it's Christmas. You sit cross-legged on the floor, and Jinx plops down next to you.

She yawns and stretches her arms out in front of her with a groan. “Damn, I can't wait for her to see what we got her.”

She pulls out her phone and searches on it for a while before finding a Christmas song. She presses play and drops her phone on the coffee table. The sound is low enough so it won't wake Isha, but loud enough for you both. She hums and sometimes sings along with the lyrics whenever she knows it.

She starts wrapping the presents, tapping her foot to the music while she puts a bow to it. She rocks her head and shoulders a bit. She put in a lot of effort into gift wrapping, despite it just being torn open in the morning.

You start to wrap your own gifts, but every now and then glance up, watching her.

Jinx wraps the presents one after another. One gift for Isha here, and another over there. “Bet Isha will love this one,” she mutters, adding a tiny bow and then a small piece of mistletoe. She places them all in order underneath the christmas tree, making sure they're nice and proper for tomorrow morning.

Each present has ‘For Isha, From Santa Jinx & Red-nosed Reindeer’ on top in her handwriting.

She yawns and stretches out her arms in front of her, arching her back before getting back to wrapping.

The two of you continue to wrap the gifts.

She talks to you about anything or nothing, just to stay awake. She talks about what Isha will think of the gifts, how much she is going to love all of them. The tree, the costume, everything. At one point, Jinx goes on a rant about some neighbor who keeps playing All I want for Christmas is you on full blast.

She also talks about other things. Stuff that's going on in the building, people you both know, funny stories that happened years ago.

“I've heard that kids believe in Santa til they turn ten.” You put on the finishing touches of the gift you're working on. “Did you believe in Santa 'til you turned ten?” you ask, arching a brow.

“Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy, The Easter Bunny.” She starts listing off things. She has some scotch tape stuck to her finger. She pauses to reach over for the roll of wrapping paper. Jinx glances at the gift you're working on and goes back to her own. She seems to remember something. “I kept believing in Santa til I was 10, when I finally realized that it was just Vander in a stupid costume.”

You snort, nodding. “Did you ever write a letter to Santa?”

She shrugs. “I may or may not have attempted to write one before.” She puts down the roll of wrapping paper, then grabs a ribbon and begins to tie a bow. “I always asked for something new for my bombs or for Mylo to stop calling me names.” She chuckles. “It got thrown in the trash the next day.”

She starts telling stories of the past christmases, of how she tried to sneak out and get a peek at what the presents the next morning would have, only to be caught by Vi. “Damn sister had ears like a bat, I swear.”

She gets into a long talk and rants about the holiday season a decade or so back, when things were more peaceful. About making Christmas decorations with her siblings. As long as she got to put the star on top of the tree, she was happy. She also adds that she always ate the candy canes off of the tree before anyone else could get to them.

One story involves how she got a lump of coal in her stocking because she put it in firecrackers and caused an explosion the following morning. She swears Mylo put it there just to spite her.

Jinx doesn't really talk about her parents much, but when she does mention them in her ramblings, it's usually about things they baked together. Sometimes cookies, or cinnamon rolls. She remembers her father picking her up and putting her on his shoulders. She remembers her mother's apple pies and says she can still smell them in her head.

She puts down her last gift, setting it aside, grinning. “Christmas has always been fun,” she says. “Even after…” She falters but shakes her head and continues. “I still love it. Isha does too.” She glances at you. “And you do too?”

“I'm fond of Christmas.” And you are. Mostly because of Isha and Jinx.

She glances at you, reaching over to pinch your arm. “Good.” She looks at the Christmas tree and the gifts below it. “I feel better sharing this with you and Isha than I ever did on my own.”

She gets up and stretches out her arms above her head, bending backwards to crack her back. She looks at the mess of ribbons, wrapping paper, and gift bows scattered on the floor around you both. “That's the last of them, right?”

All the gifts have been wrapped in various ribbons, bows, and wrapping paper. At least it looks nice. You nod. “Think so.”

You see her grab her phone from where she left it, unlocking it and scrolling through it for a moment before pausing whatever song was playing.

She looks around. “I'll clean this up tomorrow morning... or later this morning…” She yawns, looking up at the wall clock. “We should go to bed, get as much sleep as possible.” She then extends a hand down to you. “C'mon. Time for bed,” she urges, motioning with her hand.

You take her hand, and she helps you up to your feet. Jinx then wraps her arms around your waist.

She groans, yawning as she rests her head against your arm. “Carry me.”

You chuckle. “So demanding,” you say, but end up picking her up into your arms anyway. Jinx holds on to you like a sloth hangs onto trees. She lifts her head up and rests her cheek in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

You walk through the living room, and Jinx tilts her head towards you. “Mmm... Merry Christmas…” she mumbles before resting her head back into your shoulder.

It's a slow, slow walk to the bedroom. You swear your back is giving you a middle finger and you're pretty sure you'll need a chiropractor in the morning.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper.

“Love you.” She squeezes you tightly and gives the side of your neck a kiss.

Jinx is dead tired, and dead tired Jinx is a rather clingy, sleepy Jinx. She'll wake the entire world up at 6 AM though, for Isha's sake.

You manage to get Jinx into the bedroom and set her down on the bed, and she's out like a light.

Merry fucking Christmas.

—

Morning soon comes, and the sun shines through the window. Both of you woke up fairly early, since Isha is an early riser.

Jinx is doing some last-minute decorations around the apartment just to get it as stupid as possible. This includes the Christmas movie playlist she queued up on the TV and the stupid Christmas costumes.

She's also still half asleep. You can tell by how groggy she still looks, and you notice her trying to set up some of the heavier decorations before giving up and collapsing back onto the couch with a groan.

Now that the decorations are up, the playlist is put on, and the apartment looks like a Christmas abomination, all that's left is waiting for Isha to get up to open her presents.

It doesn't take long for Isha to start to stir. Jinx hears her first. “Isha is awake,” she whispers, sitting upright. You hear Isha's footsteps coming from the hallway.

She walks in, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and then promptly gives you both a judgmental glance. But then she sees the pile of gifts under the tree, and her eyes widen.

Jinx, who was previously lying on the couch, stands up with a grin and opens her arms wide. “Ho, ho, ho!” Jinx says in a voice that's definitely not at all Santa-like. She sounds more like a drunk uncle.

Isha looks back and forth between you both, then giggles.

Jinx beckons her over with a finger. “C'mon kiddo, look! Santa Jinx left you stuff!” she says, sitting down and patting the floor next to her.

Isha runs over and sits down next to Jinx. You see her eyeing the largest gift, and Jinx notices as well.

“That one's up to you.” Jinx nudges the large box towards her. Isha immediately grabs it and tries to shake it but finds that it's too heavy.

“Santa Jinx wrapped it up extra well.” Jinx grins. Isha scoots closer to her, and Jinx wraps an arm around her to help her open the gift. “Go on, open it.”

Isha looks at you and then back to Jinx before tearing the wrapping paper apart in a few seconds and getting buried in the mess of wrapping paper. Isha tosses aside the wrapping paper, giggling as it flutters around her and flutters in the air. She tries to open the box lid, but it's too heavy for her to pick up even with both hands. She turns over to Jinx with a scowl, only for Jinx to open it for her, laughing.

“There we go, champ.” Jinx opens the box and reveals a massive plushie of the Poro from Blitzcrank's Poro Roundup inside.

Isha reaches in and pulls it out, wrapping her arms around the plushie, and burying her face into the fluff.

The Poros were her favorite part of Blitzcrank's Poro Roundup, and you saw her trying to recreate it with her toys many times. When you first saw the giant plushie and its price tag, it almost gave you a heart attack.

“Do you like it, kiddo?” Jinx asks, leaning forward.

Isha nods. She lifts her head and pulls Jinx into a tight one-armed hug, not wanting to let go of the plushie, still clinging to it tightly.

“Good,” Jinx mutters, hugging Isha back. “That one took me a while to wrap.” She presses a kiss to the top of Isha's head. She looks up to you and gives you the most smug smile she can muster without making a scene.

You're a bit jealous she's using Jinx as her first target for cuddles this morning, but it's hard to not smile at both of them.

Isha reluctantly lets go of Jinx, though she never lets go of the plushie.

Jinx looks around and picks up one of the smaller gift boxes, then hands it to her. “Here's another one.”

Isha takes the box and shakes it, trying to guess the contents. She then looks up to make sure it's okay to open it.

Jinx chuckles. “You don't have to keep asking for permission, silly. They're all for you.”

Isha nods, and she tears open the gift. She pulls something out, and you can see it's a new, larger sketchbook.

“It's for all the drawings you want to make,” you say. She has a habit of always drawing on anything she can get her hands on, and you're always finding doodles and drawings in your things when she gets hold of a pen.

She turns it over in her hands and feels the pages with her fingers. She presses a kiss on the sketchbook. She then scoots back and drops it next to her giant plush Poro, and Jinx picks up another gift for her to open.

Isha grabs the box, and this time it looks a bit bigger and seems to have a bit more weight to it. She shakes it again, and you hear the sound of the item rattling inside. She looks up to both of you to make sure it's okay, and after you nod, she tears open the gift.

She pulls out another art supply: a box of colored pencils. You made a mental note to watch her and keep her from accidentally drawing on the walls. It's not that you don't want her to draw on things. But you just want her to not draw on everything... like Jinx.

Isha gasps when she opens the pencils, and she immediately pulls her legs up against her chest and opens the box. She takes out a pencil and holds it as if she's holding a sword. She makes some more swoosh noises and pretends to fight with her pencil. You have to stop her from poking herself in the eye.

“There's more.” You nod towards the gift pile with several packages still there.

Isha puts the colored pencils back into the box, and Jinx hands her another gift to open.

By the time she finished unwrapping presents, the entire couch was covered in wrapping paper. Isha is surrounded by a sea of trash and gift wrap, the giant Poros plushie being her favorite, which is sitting in her lap. She has art supplies, a new set of pencils, a new plushie, a set of Yordle mini figurines, and several new toys, clothes, and accessories.

Now, there's one last package left, which is the one you're most excited to give her. You nudge Jinx to grab it from in between the sea of trash.

Jinx gets up and bends down, digging into the pile to find it. She sits down and hands it to Isha, grinning. “There's still one more.”

Isha puts her other gifts aside and grabs the last present. Isha takes one look at it and immediately starts shaking it, trying to guess what's inside.

“Hold on, kiddo, don't shake it,” Jinx says. “That one's special.”

The gift is about the size of Isha's head, a rectangular shape wrapped in gift wrap. It doesn't sound like anything is moving around inside. Isha shakes it more just to make Jinx annoyed, but stops after Jinx shoots her a look. She sets it in her lap and carefully undoes the wrapping paper.

It takes her all of 10 seconds at most, given that Isha was very excited about the other gifts but very carefully unwraps the last one. She opens the box, and you see her eyes widen. It's a new tablet.

It costs you a pretty penny for this one. It's the most high-tech, latest model. She had drawn with old tablets before, and you wanted to get her something better than the outdated garbage you used before. You downloaded some drawing software there along with parental and screen time controls, of course.

Isha pulls it out of the box and immediately turns it on. She taps the screen a few times, and she looks back up to you and Jinx with a huge grin on her face that shows the gap of her teeth. She looks so damn excited. She holds with both hands, tapping and touching the screen to see how it works.

Jinx snickers. “She loves it,” she whispers, nudging you. “Good job.”

Even after getting a brand new tablet, Isha doesn't forget her manners. She scoots over to Jinx and gives her a hug, and Jinx picks her up in response. She then carries the kid over to you, the two of them sitting down right next to you with Isha in Jinx's lap.

Isha makes a drawing on the tablet, which turns out to just be a big scribble on the screen, but Jinx and you both praise it anyway.

It's a huge change from her having an outdated tablet, and the software on that thing was so old and out of date. You know she's going to be busy with her new tablet for hours, which gives you free time with Jinx.

Speaking of Jinx, you notice how content she looks. She has Isha leaning back against her, resting her chin on the top of Isha's head. Isha is still making scribbles on her new tablet, giggling as she does so.

You feel Jinx lean into you, and you put an arm around her, pulling her closer. She hums and reaches up with one hand and gives your hand in a squeeze, then continues watching Isha draw.

The three of you are all gathered in the living room, surrounded by wrapping paper, with the Christmas playlist still playing on the TV.

You look at Jinx. She looks happy. That's all you could ask for.

You lean down and press a kiss into her hair, and she turns up her head and briefly captures your lips. You feel her smile against your lips, and when you pull back, you see her own smile on her face.

Jinx glances down at her, and Isha doesn't notice, too absorbed in whatever she's drawing.

Jinx looks back up and presses another kiss into your lips, this time just a bit longer, before pulling away. She looks at you with that stupid grin she has sometimes.

You lean back and let out a sigh. You're content. You have your two favorite people in the whole world right here in the living room right now, both content and happy despite the shitty world outside. They're safe.

—

Jinx is working in the kitchen, mixing up ingredients in a bowl. She's wearing an apron with a cupcake on it (a gift from you), working hard in the kitchen. She mutters to herself as she works, mixing up the ingredients. “This has to be perfect,” she mumbles. “The cookies have to be absolutely perfect.”

Isha is standing on a stool, trying her best to help. She reaches up to try and add more sugar to the bowl, but Jinx stops her. “Too much, Ish,” Jinx says, gently pushing Isha's hand away. Isha pouts but doesn't try to help again, instead watching Jinx mix together the cookie batter.

She's doing all this to make sure the holiday treats are, in her words, ‘absolutely perfect’.

You watch her mix up the ingredients, then decide to try to sneak up behind her and get her attention. “Hey,” you say, and she jumps.

“You scared me!” She hisses, placing the spatula down in the bowl with more force than necessary, some of the batter splashing over the side. She puts her hand to her chest and gives you a glare.

Isha narrows her eyes at you, mirroring Jinx's expression. It's cute, but also a little creepy.

“Jesus, you almost made me ruin the cookies.” Jinx groans, looking back at the bowl of batter and seeing some splatter on the counter next to it. She grabs a washcloth and wipes it up with an irritated huff.

Isha watches Jinx clean up the mess, then copies her by grabbing a different washcloth and holding it, imitating Jinx while narrowing her eyes even more at you.

“How long have you been standing there?” Jinx asks, still looking at the bowl with irritation.”You were staring. Didn't your momma ever teach you that it's bad to stare?”

….she pulled that your momma card, and turned her nose up at you. She's too focused on the batter, making sure it doesn't have any lumps or any of the sort. She puts the washcloth down and picks the spoon back up, mixing the ingredients.

You stand back and watch her. You know better than to try and argue with her right now. You know you're better off letting her do her thing, so you just reply with a simple “Yeah, mom,” knowing that'll annoy the hell out of her.

Bingo. You watch as Jinx rolls her eyes so hard you think they're going to get stuck in the back of her head. She groans, and a vein in her temple visibly bulges. She takes out her frustration by being just a bit rougher with the spatula, stirring the ingredients up more furiously than before.

You hear her muttering to herself. “You're so annoying. Stupid, irritating, annoying idiot. Damn dumbass.”

Isha watches the two of you, her head turning back and forth like she's watching a tennis match.

You sigh. “Need any help?”

“No,” Jinx replies too quickly. “It's fine. Just—stand there and don't get in the way.” She gives you a glare, and it has that edge that says she's irritated. It's not the 'playfully grumpy' kind of irritation, it's the 'actually frustrated with you' type. Her eyebrows pinched together, and nostrils flared. She's got that expression on her face, the one where she's either really mad or really horny. Hard to tell sometimes.

Jinx turns to Isha. “Ish, can you go grab the chocolate chips for me?”

Isha nods and starts to hop off her stool and run to the pantry. It takes longer than it would if you or Jinx had gotten the chocolate chips, but eventually Isha retrieves the bag and brings it over, holding it out triumphantly to Jinx.

“Perfect,” Jinx says, taking the bag from Isha's hands and pouring it into the mixture. She gives her a smile and pats her head. “You're a good helper, Isha.” She gives you a pointed look. “Unlike some certain people.”

It's a barb that's directed at you, and it hits its target.

You walk over to Isha and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, why don't you go play with your new tablet?”

Isha nods and dashes off to play. Both of you watch her run, then Jinx goes back to her mixing, and you go back to being silently judged.

Jinx knows how to do everything. She knows how to draw, she knows how to paint, she knows how to make bombs, she knows how to bake, she can make the best damn food you've ever tasted... and she knows how to make you feel bad.

She stands there, mixing the bowl. She refuses to look at you. It's always like this. You know what she wants. She wants you to apologize, even if it's the most bullshit one ever.

She's like a cat. Get on her bad side, and she'll just ignore you until you do something to get back on her good side.

You sigh, knowing that there's only one way back on her good side. If you do this correctly, she'll forget about you being a dick to her a minute ago, and she'll go back to being a normal, happy Jinx. If you do this incorrectly, you're sleeping outside.

You walk over to her and wrap your arms around her from behind, pulling her into your chest. You rest your chin on her shoulder. “You know,” you breathe. “I am sorry…”

She groans and stops her mixing. She puts one of her hands on your arm, giving it a squeeze. She still looks at the bowl, not at you.

Now you get into the fun stuff. You press a kiss into her shoulder.

You're not just going to give her a random peck and move on. No. You've been around her for years. You know what to do. You kiss her shoulder again, then her neck, then her jaw, then her ear.

She still isn't saying anything, but leans back against you, tilting her head to the side to give you a better angle. She's still looking straight ahead, staring at the stupid bowl. You press another kiss into her neck, and you can hear her mumble, “I hate you.”

She's lying. You know she's lying. You also know that she knows you know she's lying. You know she's just saying this to get you on your knees.

She likes it when you're on your knees, begging her and apologizing for whatever stupid thing you didn't mean to do wrong.

“I'm sorry, really.” You kiss her neck again, and she groans. You can see her pouting.

“If you keep doing this, I'll put rat poison in the cookies,” she mumbles. You know there's a damn near zero chance of that happening. Maybe...

You press a kiss into her shoulder. She groans and finally drops the act. She turns around in your arms, looking up at you with a glare. “You're such an ass,” she says. “I can’t believe I got stuck with you, out of all the idiots in the world.”

You sigh. Might as well pull the big guns out and do it all. “Baby. Look. I'm sorry, I'll never sneak up on you in the kitchen. I swear.”

"You—you—ugh!!” She puts a hand on your chest and punches you with the other. “You always do it.” Another punch to your chest. “I was trying to focus on those cookies. You can't just sneak up on me like that.”

“I know, I know. I'm sorry.” You grab her hand before she can punch you again. “It was a mistake. Baby, I didn't mean to scare you, I swear in my heart and soul I'll never do it again.

She pushes and thrashes against you, still trying to punch you. “You say that every damn time you do it!” she snaps. “And then when I'm focused on something else, you do it all over again!”

You keep her hands pinned to your chest. “I'm a terrible, awful, stupid person,” you admit. “I'm an idiot. I can't help myself, you're so hot when you're focused, I just can't help it. It's a mistake, I swear.”

Despite the fact that you have her wrists pinned to your chest, she manages to give you another punch. “You're the most annoying person I know! You're lucky I didn't dump this bowl of batter on your head! Maybe you'd learn your damn lesson!”

“You'd be wasting perfectly good cookie dough if you did that,” you reply. “Don't do it, baby. C'mon, I'll get you and Isha some ice cream. Alright?”

She sighs and gives up fighting against your grip. “...That new flavor?”

You let go of her wrists, letting her arms drop to her sides. “Only the new flavor, just for you.”

She stares you down for a full thirty seconds, then groans. She glances at the living room. “And Isha.”

“And Isha.” You lean down and put your arms on the countertop, both on either side of her. “Please?”

“Please what,” she asks, not looking at you.

“Please forgive me?”

Silence.

“Pretttty please?”

More silence. Wow, she's not giving in that easily. You're going to need to pull out the heavy artillery now.

“I'll get you two new stuffies as well."

Her head whips around, giving you a glare. “And what stuffies would you so graciously and lovingly buy me so I can forgive you for the massive crime of scaring me while I'm baking?”

You almost smirk, you almost smirk. “Anything you want,” you offer. “I'll even call up some people and get you a stuffed replica of me if you want.”

“Why the hell would I want a stuffed replica of you?” She scoffs. “I could dunk it in the toilet.”

“You'd get your hands on a plushy of me, and the first thing you'd do is throw it in a shitter?” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought you liked me.”

“That's why I'd use a plushie of you as toilet paper.”

“What if I bought you two of them? A first one to use as toilet paper and a second one to cuddle?”

“Hmm...” She pretends to think about it, giving the most exaggerated facial expressions while she tilts her head like she's in deep thought. After about twenty seconds, she grins at you. “I'm still dunking both of them in the toilet.”

“How about I buy you two stuffed replicas of me, let you do what you want, call in a bunch of favors with some guys, get a bunch of replicas of me made, rinse and repeat until you're satisfied, and then you can forgive me?”

“...Make it a dozen replicas of you that I can abuse in whatever way I want, and a replica of Isha.”

“You wanna put Isha in the toilet too?”

“No, you moron, I just want a replica of her because I love her more than I love you.”

"Ouch!” You pretend to be hurt. “You kiss me with that mouth?”

“I kiss you with both my upper and lower mouths.”

…

Wow?

This woman.

You don't think you've ever been hit by such smooth lines before. Damn, you really pulled the rizzler.

You're trying to figure out how to come back at that when she suddenly puts her arms on your shoulders, her hand slowly tracing around your neck. Her smirk turns into a half-smile that makes those damn eyes nearly glow.

Alright, time to pull out some more bullshit. “You do like it when I use that lower mouth.” You smirk. “You especially love that first thing in the morning, as I recall.”

She puts a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “How could I ever forget?” she mutters, her eyes half-lidded. “After all, it's my favorite alarm clock.”

You can see her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes.

“And my favorite breakf-”

Before you can finish your comment, she grabs your shirt and pulls you closer before kissing you.

You aren't complaining, not at all. You'll never argue or protest when she's making the first move, no ma'am!

You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her against you. She nips at your bottom lip before quickly delving her tongue into your mouth. You can feel her other hand against your chest, then slide up to your shoulder, then up to the back of your neck.

Your hands go down to her hips, pushing her backwards and forcing her to sit on the countertop. Her legs open, letting you stand between them. You kiss her back, your tongue darting back into her mouth.

Her tongue keeps yours occupied in her mouth, and she wraps her legs around your waist. Her hands move to the back of your head, her fingers pulling on your hair, and her other arm wraps around your shoulders.

One of your hands is on the counter, supporting the two of you, while your other hand travels up her shirt to the bare skin on her stomach.

Her hand tugs on your hair, causing you to break the kiss and look up at her. Her lips are red and swollen, and she takes a moment to catch her breath. “One plushie and an ice cream. Don't go overboard.”

You take a breath in. Then, another one.

The taste of her mouth is still on your tongue. You thought you had a strong tongue, but she went right for the kill.

“Are you bargaining with me right after you kiss me?” you tease.

“Yes, because that's the only time your brain works correctly.”

She pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to take a step back. She hops off the counter then leans back against it. “You still get one plushie. And-”

“And an ice cream,” you finish.

“And for Isha too.”

“And for Isha too,” you repeat.

“And no more sneaking while I'm baking,” she warns, pointing a finger at you.

“And no more sneaking while you're baking,” you echo.

“No more being an annoying, distracting idiot and getting me off track when I'm baking.”

“No more being an annoying, distracting idiot and getting you off track when you're baking,” you respond dutifully.

“No more scaring me when I'm just minding my own business.”

“No more scaring you when you're minding your own business.”

She smirks.. “No more sneaking around me at all.”

You pause. “...Am I allowed to watch you bake?”

“Under specific conditions,” she responds. “You have to have your hands behind your back, and you’re not allowed to talk—at all. No making comments, no asking questions, no annoying me, no trying to touch me, nothing.”

You frown, but you know it's a fair compromise. “...Fine, I'll abide by those rules when you're baking. Unless you need help… what if there's an emergency?”

She rolls her eyes. “If an emergency happens, you can intervene. But if it's not an actual emergency, then it's just you being annoying and distracting again.”

You nod your head. “No talking, no hands, no questions, no touching, and only intervention for emergencies.”

“And one more thing.”

“And one more thing,” you parrot back.

She pushes herself away from the counter, keeping her eyes on yours, and takes a step towards you. “You owe me.”

“I owe you,” you repeat, but your mouth turns up in a smirk. “And what do I owe you?”

“You can start with giving the living room a deep clean on your day off,” she begins.

Ah, that's where this is going. She's going to milk this for all it's worth.

“And?” you prompt.

“And you're doing the laundry on top of that. All the sheets on the bed-” She takes another step closer. “-and all the laundry in the laundry basket,” she clarifies. She pokes your chest with a finger. “All. Of. It.”

“All of it?” you echo. “Are you planning on throwing every single piece of dirty clothing you own into the basket before I get back from work just so you can give me extra work?”

“You’re catching on.” She grins. “And you’re going to wash everything meticulously. No stains, no wrinkles, and everything is going to be folded correctly. You hear?”

“No stains, no wrinkles, and everything folded correctly.” you repeat the words back to her. “Anything else?”

“You're scrubbing the bathroom, vacuuming and cleaning the hardwood, and changing Isha's bedding.”

“Are you sure I can't just buy you a Roomba?” you suggest.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Her hand traces to your stomach before resting on your shoulder. “I’m not trusting my cleaning to some random little thing on the floor. You do all the cleaning yourself, and I’m inspecting it all.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a very roundabout way of saying, “I’m going to watch you do chores and get mad when you do it marginally imperfect.”

“Alright, so laundry, bathroom cleaning, vacuuming, scrubbing the floors, and changing the bedding. Anything else?” you ask.

She looks up at you, a pout on her face, and her other hand is playing with the fabric of your shirt. “And a Christmas movie night later with Isha.”

“And a Christmas movie night with you and Isha,” you repeat. “Alright, is that everything?”

“Not quite.”

“Not quite,” you mimic. “What’s left?”

“And I don't want to see a single dish in the sink after dinner for a month.”

“And no dishes in the sink after dinner for a month,” you repeat. “You got it, boss.” You wrap your arms around her waist. “Anything else, or are you done chaining me yet?”

“A massage.”

“A massage?” you repeat incredulously.

“Yes, a back massage.”

“Just a back massage?”

She nods. “A nice long back massage that hopefully won't end with you doing anything stupid.”

Hey, the stupid things end with the both of you having a good time.

“With or without oil?”

“With oil. And I'm serious about only a back massage.”

“Damn, thought you were going to say full body.”

“I'm not that easy,” she snaps. “And I mean just a back massage. No trying to distract me, no straying from what you're supposed to do. Got it? No funny business.”

“Alright, alright,” you grumble. “I'll give you a back massage with no funny business or distractions. But only one?”

“One long back massage,” she corrects.

“Only one?” you whine. “I'm going to end up giving the best damn back massage ever, and it's going to be a waste after just one.”

“One nice and long back massage,” she replies sternly. “That's all you're getting out of me. Consider it a part of your debt.”

“Can I bargain for more?” you joke. Well, only partially.

She glares at you. “One back massage only,” she clarifies, her hand pinching your shoulder as a warning. "

You wince at the pinch. “Ow, ow, ow, I got it. One, and only one back massage with oil. Anything else? Anything else?”

“And you're buying me and Isha one plushie and an ice cream?” she finishes, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay. One plushie and ice cream for each of you, a nice back massage with oil, laundry chores, bathroom cleaning, vacuuming the floors, scrubbing all the hardwood, and changing the bedding. And a Christmas movie night,” you list off, counting on your fingers. “And no dishes left in the sink after dinner for a month. That's it?”

“That's it.” She nods. “Those are my terms. Do you agree?”

“Yes, yes. I agree.” You raise a finger as you add, “And I’ll add two extra hours to that back massage.”

“You're such a pain-” she starts, pausing to think about it. “...Two extra hours added, I'll say yes to that.”

“What will I get if I add three more?” you ask, smirking.

“Nothing more,” she replies. “I'm done adding more on. Unless you want to add more chores to be done?”

The smirk on your face drops. “I-” you start, hesitating. “...Damn it, no, no more adding on. Two extra hours is good enough.”

“Good,” she says, poking your cheek. “Now get out, I have cookies to finish.”

“Fine,” you reply, but you lean in to steal one kiss, to which she allows you.

“Leave, you're too distracting,” she mutters against your lips.

“You're damn tempting when you're baking,” you mutter back, and kiss her one more time.

Reluctantly, you pull away from her, stepping out of the kitchen and heading to the living room. Isha is sitting on the couch with her tablet, drawing.

“Hey, kiddo,” you say, walking up to her, “Let's go get some ice cream and another plushie for you. Just us two, how's that sound?”

Her ears perk up, and she puts the tablet down, getting up and running over to you with a smile on her face.

She grabs your hand, and you feel as she tugs against you, wanting to go now. Ice cream and plushies (and chores and nice long back massage with oil) have got to be one of the best things invented in the history of humankind.

—

Ice cream and plushies acquired, and the three of you are back in the living room watching The Grinch for the umpteenth time. Isha is curled up in Jinx's lap, watching the Grinch steal all the presents and decorations from Whoville. Again.

You're sitting beside Jinx on the couch, eating her ice cream while Isha eats a cookie.

Jinx has an arm around Isha, watching the movie while she holds Isha up. She takes a bite of her cookie or takes a spoon of her ice cream. You've lost count of how many times you've seen this movie with Isha already. You can practically quote the entire movie by heart at this point. Jinx can, anyway.

Not that you complain when Isha wants to watch it. This is still a thousand times better than having to see the Teletubbies.If you ever see Jojo Siwa or Peppa Pig, you're going to lose your mind.

Jinx gives you a look, then glances at your ice cream. She's already finished hers, and now she wants yours. She really wants it, and if you don't give it to her, she's likely going to steal it.

But Isha is on her lap, and she doesn't want to take her attention off of her, so you're safe… for now.

Isha is so focused completely on the movie. You've never seen a kid more excited to see a grown man being a complete dick.

Jinx keeps glancing at your ice cream, waiting for you to let your guard down and grab it from your hands.

She's probably already done the math in her head and knows exactly how much you can eat in one sitting. She probably did the math the first time you two shared ice cream and has kept a note in her mind since then.

Isha giggles at one of the funnier scenes, and then Jinx ruffles her hair. Isha leans back against Jinx and keeps watching the movie, but your girlfriend glances back at you with a look. That damn ice cream.

But this is your moment.

A window of opportunity has opened, and you can use it. Jinx is trapped by the kid. She can't leave, she's stuck. You have the upper hand, and you can use this to your advantage.

You grab the ice cream and shovel a heaping spoonful into your mouth. And hold it there.

Haha. You smirk at Jinx. She looks at you and realizes that she's in a checkmate position. She's screwed. Trapped behind the child, all she can do is glare at you as you shove more ice cream into your mouth. It feels so damn good to win. It feels powerful. You feel like a god.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead.

You shovel more and more ice cream into your mouth, looking right at Jinx while you do it. You're making sure she watches you as you slowly eat the sweet, cold treat.

You feel like you're on top of the world... not until Isha wants to go to the bathroom.

Isha squirms and looks up at Jinx, signaling that she has to go to the bathroom. Jinx nods, and the kid scurries off to the bathroom to do her business.

Meanwhile, you've just sealed your fate.

She hates not getting her way, and you've just denied her the treat she wanted. And she will get revenge. She'll probably use a dirty trick, too. Maybe she'll put something in the next batch of cookies she bakes next. Or maybe she'll put a dead tarantula in your pillow.

And the moment Isha is out of the room, Jinx turns to face you. She looks absolutely angry. You'd think she just walked in on you sleeping with another woman if it wasn't for the ice cream still in your mouth.

The look in her eyes alone makes you start to sweat, but you force yourself to keep your composure. You have to keep the upper hand.

You shrug. “I can get you another ice cream... and another stuffie?”

She scowls. You can see her fingers twitch. “I'll remember this,” she says. Like you're not already trembling in fear. “Next time you ask to eat the last cookie, I'll say no.”

You know she won't follow through with that, but that doesn't mean it won't still be a pain in the ass. Not like you'd ever take the last cookie in the first place. It's probably only a bluff, it's probably empty words. She's probably still thinking of ways to get you back. You'll probably be finding dead spiders in your socks tonight.

Isha comes back and stops in the doorway, staring at the two of you. Wondering why you guys are looking upset. Jinx sees her, and her scowl turns into a smile within a fraction of a second.

It's almost scary how quickly she can flip.

“Hey Ish, did you wash your hands?” she asks, looking at Isha.

Isha nods. She probably did. She's pretty smart, she knows how important it is to wash hands. She's even stopped doing the typical kid thing of putting her hands in the toilet and getting who knows what all over her. You're thankful for it, 'cause you definitely don't want to see that.

Jinx smiles and motions for Isha to come back to her. Isha does so and snuggles into her lap, and Jinx kisses her head before turning back to you. That glare.

You're in the deep end now. Like you're about to be thrown into the Mariana's Trench, or the Challenger Deep. You know hell awaits.

All because of this goddamn ice cream.

She's probably got her payback list going in her head, writing down every single slight you've ever done against her. You remember she made you walk around the entire apartment building because... you forgot to take out the garbage six months ago.

You scoff, holding out the ice cream to her, hoping it would somehow appease her.

She looks at you, then at the ice cream, then back at you. She looks like she's trying to figure out if this is some sort of trick and whether or not you're just making fun of her.

She looks at you again and then finally takes the ice cream bowl out of your hands, grumbling to herself. She starts eating the ice cream without any hesitation. You see her scowl start to melt away.

You lean in and whisper. “You could've asked nicely, you know.”

“Shut up,” she mutters.

Of course she doesn't ask nicely. That's way too much work, that's way too civilized. She's Jinx, she does things her way. And if her way includes stealing your ice cream without asking, she's going to steal your ice cream without asking.

She doesn't have the patience to wait, she wants what she wants at that exact moment. That's why it's safer to just share, 'cause if you don't, your food/drink/whatever it is she's going to swipe ends up in her hands.

She even tries to steal your fries all the time and gives you the most pathetic puppy eyes whenever you say no.

She has an ice cream on the corner of her lip, and you resist the urge to lean over and wipe it off. You know better than to get closer. Or she's going to give you a death glare. You've already gotten a couple today.

You see Isha lean her head against Jinx's shoulder, and she wraps her arm around Isha.

You know damn well she's going to use that as a shield against you too. You've seen it hundreds of times. She'll use Isha as an excuse to do everything. She'll say, “You're going to upset Isha,” and you'll fall for it every damn time.

Because you really don't want to make Isha upset. You've seen Isha in a bad mood, it's pretty damn depressing. And you've had to deal with a stressed Jinx who had a stressed Isha to deal with.

You've seen Jinx with a rocket launcher at her side while she's glaring out the window and chewing on a toothpick. You just pray it's never directed at you.

And you never want to go through that ever again.

You don't even want to imagine if they're both on their periods. You've got nightmares about it. You hope you never have to see it, but it's going to happen sometime soon.

And when the hormones start kicking in, you're pretty sure you're going to have to call a therapist.

Or a priest. Or a priest-therapist. You're going to need both.

Or a priest-therapist-exorcist. Three-in-one

Or a priest-exorcist-therapist-monk, someone who will bless the damn apartment and cleanse the demons out.

Maybe you'll want to call some kind of SWAT team. Get everyone out of the crossfire and just leave a demolition crew to clean up the destruction.

Because you already know what's going to happen if they're both on their periods and are having a bad day.

They'll probably try and blow the damn thing, the three of you probably won't have a place to stay, and you'll have to tell the landlord exactly how your apartment got destroyed.

But those are for future you to deal with. And past-present you don't want to think about it. You'd rather think about the now, where Jinx is eating her ice cream and Isha is curled up against her, watching her favorite movie and not being on her period.

You see Isha yawn and rub her eyes as the movie plays. She's getting tired, and it's getting late. Jinx seems to notice too.

She glances between the kid and the clock. She glances back at the movie, then back at Isha. She looks at the clock again and sighs. “C'mon, kiddo, let's put on your pajamas,” she mutters, setting aside her bowl, then picking up the remote to pause the movie. Isha makes a whine of protest. Jinx shakes her head. “Go on. Go take a bath, brush your teeth, put your pajamas on. Okay?”

Isha shakes her head. She's tired, and she looks like she wants to stay like this.

Jinx sighs, then looks at you. You look back at her, and Jinx nods her head towards Isha, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, realizing Jinx is already on her way to using Isha as an excuse.

You get up and put your hands under Isha's arms and start lifting her out of Jinx's lap, and the kid whines. Isha squirms and tries to reach for Jinx, but you start carrying her towards the bathroom.

You really hope that Isha has an easy time putting on her pajamas and brushing her teeth and doesn't want to fight doing that too. There are some nights it takes like a whole damn hour to make this kid brush her teeth. It's because she likes to chew on the brush.

You open the bathroom door and set Isha down. “Go on, kid. You need to take a bath and brush your teeth,” you say, and you feel her grab your hand.

This is all your responsibility now. Jinx is off sitting on the damn couch eating ice cream and watching the rest of The Grinch while you're stuck having to get her to brush her teeth, put pajamas on, and take a bath.

You glance back at the doorway, and you can see Jinx watching the movie with a big smirk on her face. She looks at you, and you swear you can see her mouth ‘you're welcome’ while she's eating her ice cream.

You really should've shared the ice cream.

—

The war is finally over. You finally get the kid clean, finally finally get the brat to put on the damn pajamas, and she finally finally finally goes to sleep. But not before she kicks and cries and kicks and screams and screams and cries.

It's a hell of a Christmas, but it's been a long, exhausting day, and you're finally getting a break.

And you and Jinx are back in your room. Your head is throbbing and all your muscles are sore from everything today.

Jinx's back is facing you, and she's sitting cross-legged between your legs.

She's letting you undo her braids, and she's quiet, just letting you do your thing. Probably too damn tired (and annoyed) to have much to say right now.

The silence is nice. It's soothing. You carefully undo her braids, trying not to tug too hard.

She doesn't seem to be saying anything, which is weird. She's usually making comments about something whenever silence starts to stretch out for too long. Or she's trying to annoy you in some way. But tonight... nothing. Not even a hum to fill the silence.

You undo the last braid, and her long, blue hair flows down her back. You're used to seeing it like this at this point. But it never gets old. Seeing it like this, even if you have to deal with the mess it can make on your pillowcase.

It looks nice, though. It is nice. You're glad that she trusts you enough to let you sit here and run your fingers through it.

You wrap your arms around her waist, and she doesn't protest. She does lean against you, allowing you to rest your chin on her shoulder. Her hands find their way to your arms, tracing circles on your forearm with her thumb.

She closes her eyes, just... taking in the moment.

It's quiet. She doesn't say anything, and neither do you.

You can smell the faint smell of the shampoo she uses. You can still smell the cookies she made earlier.

She turns her head to the side, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye. Her lips part like she wants to tell you something. Her brow furrows, but then she turns her head away and goes back to tracing patterns on your arm with her fingers.

Something's on her mind. But she doesn't seem to want to tell you. Or she does, but she doesn't know how. Or she doesn't want to.

You lean your head and press a kiss into her shoulder, intertwining one of your hands with hers. Your thumbs run in a slow, circular pattern on the back of her hand. “What's wrong?”

She doesn't respond, but her fingers twitch in your grasp. Her back is still to you, and she stares at the wall in front of her. “Nothing.”

She moves away from you, sliding out from between your legs and crawling to the other side of the bed. You follow her, sliding into the spot beside her and pulling the covers over the both of you.

She rests her head on your arm, tucking her head into the crook of your arm and leaning on your shoulder. She pulls the blanket up to her chin. You pull her closer, and your other arm comes to wrap around her. She puts her legs between yours, tangling the two of you together like some convoluted knot.

Her thumb brushes your waist idly, and her fingers start rubbing along the edge of your ribs.

She's doing something. A tapping, sort of. She'll run a pattern along your ribs before tapping on it once.

She's doing it to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You can see her eyes are open. She's not quite asleep yet. Her eyes are distant, not focused on anything in particular because they stare at nothing in particular.

She blinks a couple of times. And just when you were thinking that she's just spaced out...

“...Can I ask you something?”

You wouldn't have heard her if you weren't holding her so close to your chest. She's not moving much, just fidgeting. She's staring into the darkness, like she's staring at something beyond the wall in front of her.

“It's stupid,” she adds when you're too slow to answer.

“What is it?” Your curiosity is piqued. She never calls anything she asks about 'stupid.' That's not how she works. The only stupid questions are the ones that don't have an answer, she told you once.

Her fingers stop tracing on your skin. Instead, she moves her hand down to pick at the hem of your shirt. Her fingers grasping the hem of your shirt but making no move to bring it up. “I've been thinking,” she starts.

Her voice is so quiet, it's hushed. Not out of fear or because she's trying to keep anyone from waking up, but out of a sort of... embarrassment?

But why would she be embarrassed to ask you something? It's probably just a big deal for her, that's all.

“What've you been thinking about?” you ask, trying to bring her out of her own head.

“I was thinking, ah…” she trails off and sighs.

She picks at the hem of your shirt and pulls it up just a bit before she pulls it back down. She sighs again.

“Why do you stay with me?”

Her fingers are still picking at the hem of your shirt. Almost like she's picking it apart, little by little.

For you, it's almost a strange question, considering the relationship you've had together for so many years. Why wouldn't you stay with her?

It's a question you haven't really heard from her. Most of the time, the questions she asks are “are you mad at me?” or “are you going to leave me?”

You start to run your hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her with your touch.

She doesn't seem tense, she's not shivering. Actually, she seems pretty relaxed, like laying in your arms and tucked into your side is completely normal. Which it is.

But you can hear her breath hitch, you can almost feel her heartbeat pick up. And her picking at your shirt is starting to get a bit more insistent.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Like- I dunno. I'm a walking disaster. Or a catastrophe even.”

She stops picking at your shirt and brings her hand up to brush some hair out of her face. She's doing anything she can to avoid looking at you.

“It doesn't make sense,” she mumbles. “I'm not exactly-” she pauses. “-nice, to most people.” She says it as if it's an understatement, which it probably is. “And yet,” she continues. “I get to hold you and be close to you…”

She reaches for your shirt again, and pulls it up just an inch, running her thumb along the hem.

It's odd to hear from her. The way that she words it, it sounds like she can't comprehend being loved. She's not stupid, far from it. She's far smarter than she makes herself out to be.

She's always been clingy and craves attention and affection. She's possessive of you and sometimes can act like a child. She can be impulsive and can be reckless. She asks if you're mad at her if you don't answer her call for a few minutes. She makes you dress up as a dumbass reindeer costume.

Yet, you love her.

“Maybe…” she trails off, and you hear her swallow a lump in her throat. “I might get a little…” she starts, her fingers fidgeting even more. “Possessive?”

Possessive. She'll break your phone if you mention another woman's name. Or burn a restaurant. Or both.

“Maybe I'm clingy?” she continues, and you can almost hear the way her lip curls as if she's about to say something else. She doesn't say it, though. The silence stretches out.

She's thinking, thinking hard.

“I don't understand why you want to put up with all of my…” she trails off again. “My bullshit,” she finishes in a hushed voice.

“Your bullshit.” You chuckle, and her fingers pause.

Her bullshit, as she calls it. You know about her past. Her upbringing. That she's been abandoned time and time again, betrayed. That she's got abandonment issues. That she loves you more than anything, yet is afraid you'll leave her, and she'll be alone again.

You pull her against your chest, hugging her tightly.

Her breath hitches again, and you feel her fingers tighten as she clutches at your shirt. Something that you've noticed is that she finds comfort in the scent of you. In the little things, like smelling your shirt. Or how she'll sometimes lean over to smell your hair or the collar of your jacket.

You press a kiss against the top of her head, then another, then another.

“What makes me worth staying for?”

You're quiet, as you think. There are several words out there you could use to describe Jinx.

Amazing.

Intelligent.

Beautiful.

Gifted.

Creative,

Brilliant.

Talented.

Wonderful.

There are so many words you could say. So many words with so much meaning that all apply to this wonderful woman.

She's terrified of being abandoned again, and yet she feels like she's not worth being loved. Even after all the damage she's done and all the damage you've both done to each other, you still stayed. And she doesn't understand it.

Or refuses to understand it. She still believes that you're going to leave her someday.

“You drive me crazy,” you start, and she lets out a huff. “You're funny,” you continue. “Sometimes.” You lean down and press a kiss against the top of her head. “And sweet, sometimes.” You lift your other hand to gently scratch her scalp, the way you know she likes. In turn, she nuzzles her face into your shoulder. “You make me look forward to things. You make me look forward to going home.” You pause. “You make me want to come home.”

Every single time you turn the key to open the door of your home, she's there. The moment you step into the house, she's the first thing you see. Whether you're coming home late in the evening after a long day at work or coming back after a quick trip to the store, she's always there waiting for you.

She'll hear the door open, she'll get up off the couch or bed, or even wake herself up. She'll come rushing over to see you, and she'll jump into your arms before you even enter the living room. She'll hold on tightly, and you have to pry her off so you don't both topple onto the floor.

When you can manage to get her off of you—just for a brief second—she'll immediately start talking your ear off. About her day, what she did, what she and Isha did, and about the latest shenanigans she did around town.

She'll make you sit down, and the moment you do, she crawls into your lap and clings on to you.

She asks if you're hungry, if you need her to get you anything, if you need food, if you're tired. She'll take your coat from your hands, and you've come back home multiple times to find your coats and shoes perfectly put away in their spot.

“You're crazy,” you continue. “You make me do the stupidest damn things I can think of, like dress up in a reindeer costume.” You huff. “But I don't mind any of it, because it's you.”

Jinx doesn't say anything. If she was tired before, she's wide awake now.

“You throw stuff at my head when you get angry.” She has the decency to look sheepish at that.

You continue. “You annoy the living hell out of me.”

Jinx's eyebrows raise. Yeah, she knew that already.

“You're weird.”

She grunts and hides her face at the crook of your neck. A smile is playing at the edges of her lips.

“But the best things in life are weird.” You sigh, pressing another kiss into her hair. “I like waking up next to you. Even if you get drool on my damn shirt.”

“That was ONE TIME-” she squawks, lifting her head to look at you. It was more than one time, but you decide not to point that out. She grumbles, then buries her face back into your neck.

“You steal all the blankets.”

Jinx freezes at that. She burrows her face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“It's a pain in the ass, but you're so damn cold, and I know you're gonna be shivering when you crawl into bed.”

She'll roll over and hug you as close as she can at night because she ‘wants to steal your warmth,’ but in reality it's her trying to keep warm. Her toes are always freezing cold, to the point that she sleeps with socks on.

“You're cute when you're angry,” you say, which earns you a kick to the shin.

“I am not.”

“Sure you are. When you get mad, you get this cute little pout, and you look like a puffed-up kitten.”

She doesn't respond, and when you can see her face, you see her pouting.

“See?” You lift your hand up and reach to flick her nose, but she grabs it in a flash.

“I'm not cute when I get mad.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

You both argue for a good few minutes, the both of you going back and forth, the both of you being just as stubborn.

Eventually you both get tired of going back and forth, so you take a different approach. When she's just about to say she's not cute, you lean down and smother her with kisses. Her protest turns into giggles, and she squawks when you bury your head in her neck and press kisses against her throat.

She squirms, trying to get out of your grip. Her hands fly up to push against you, but you have her pinned beneath you, trapping her against the softness of the bed. You pin her wrists with one hand and use the other to continue your campaign of kisses against her neck and collarbone.

“You talk in your sleep.” You trail your lips to the side of her jaw.

You've experienced that several times. She has a habit of talking in her sleep, which she doesn't realize. Or she does and is just messing with you.

“Huh?” She grunts out, still trying to free her arms.

“You talk in your sleep,” you repeat. Your lips trail to the back of her ear. “You usually say weird things.” One of your legs slides between her knees, forcing them to spread. “One time you said something about bunnies and monkeys and fireworks.”

That got her to stop struggling. Her eyes are wide as she stares at you.

When she doesn't say anything, you chuckle, moving to press kisses against the tip of her nose, her eyelashes, and finally the corner of her lips. “You woke me up in the middle of the night by whispering something. You said the bunnies were gonna eat the monkeys, and the fireworks were to defend the monkeys.”

The words finally register in her mind, and she suddenly laughs. “You're making that up.”

“Nope,” you respond, popping the 'p'. “You've said more crazy things, you know,” you continue. “You said you were gonna 'shoot the sun down.' When I asked what you meant, you said something about using a cannon.”

She laughs again, and the sound of her laughter is like music to your ears. “That was a good dream.”

“I'm sure it was,” you murmur against her collarbone, moving up to her neck. “I woke up and you had your head buried under the pillow.”

“I wanted to muffle the sun.”

“At 2 am?”

“The sun was loud.”

You chuckle against her neck before you bite down, sucking at a spot in the crook of her shoulder. She gasps at that. “You kick me sometimes in the middle of the night.”

And her legs are always flailing about in her sleep. She has hit you multiple times in her sleep, accidentally whacking you in the face.

“I don't do that on purpose.” She huffs.

You raise an eyebrow at her and stop peppering her neck with kisses.

You get hit by her feet, her elbows, her hands, all while she's apparently asleep. It's like she's having a damn fencing match in her dreams.

“You absolutely do it on purpose.” You scoff. “When we first moved in together, I woke up one night and I had a black eye. And you had this smirk on your face while you were 'asleep'.”

“I swear that was an accident!”

She accidentally slammed her elbow into your eye while asleep. It left your eye bruised for a week, and the next morning she felt terrible about it. You can still remember her fretting over you and making you an ice pack while constantly apologizing.

“Uh huh.”

“I said it was an accident,” she says, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Then I guess it's just a coincidence that you elbowed me in the other eye a week after that?”

That time she had been having a nightmare, and apparently you jostled her. She swung around and socked you dead in the eye, which once again had left you with a black eye that took a week to go away.

“That was also an accident.”

“You do it on purpose,” you scoff. “You're trying to kill me in my sleep.”

“I like you alive,” she says, “who else is gonna keep me warm at night?”

“You could get a dog to keep you warm at night,” you respond, “or a hot water bottle.”

“Those don't have your warmth.”

You chuckle. “What, I'm just a replacement heater for you?”

She squawks and tries to smack you on the shoulder. Which is difficult when her wrists are still pinned by your hand. “I don't use you just for your warmth, you dumbass.” She struggles against you. “Lemme go, I wanna hit you.”

“No,” you mumble before leaning down to bury your face in her neck again. “You wake me up in the middle of the night to talk about whatever nonsense you want or because you can't sleep.”

She'll wake up at the most random times in the night, just as you're about to fall asleep. She'll start talking, and you'll be half asleep as you listen to her go on a 3 am rant on how the neighbor a floor above you always stomps around in heels at random hours of the night and keeps her awake. Or about why pigeons are evil.

And if she's not talking, she's staring at you while you're asleep or playing with your hair. You've lost count of the times you've woken up with her fingers combing through your hair or tracing the lines of your face.

“You have the biggest sweet tooth I've ever seen.”

She wakes up in the middle of the night, leaving you to raid the kitchen for candy and pastries. You'll wake up at 3 am, only to realize the left side of the bed is cold. You get up, stumbling out of bed to look for her.

You'll find her with a spoon in one hand, a bag of cookies in the other. Sometimes sitting on the counter, sometimes sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, happily munching away.

“You even went ahead and stole the candies I keep in the fridge for Isha. I have to hide everything for that girl in the house or there won't be anything left for her.”

There's the time she ate all of Isha's snacks in one evening. And you had to make another trip to the corner store to go and replace those.

She'll grab a bowl of candy or chips and eat it in front of the TV, finishing the whole bag. If she's really into it, she'll probably grab a small snack here and there as well. Isha gets jealous when she eats all of her snacks, but she doesn't mind sharing either.

Sometimes you'll find her on the couch with a handful of candy in her hands while Isha sits next to her, telling her to “share and quit hogging.”

You also remember the one time she ate a ton of ice cream out of the carton and made herself sick later that night. She got a massive brain freeze and swore to “never eat another bit of ice cream again.” She ate some two days later.

“You steal my clothes. Always.”

She'll take anything you own that she can wear. Hoodies, sweaters, shirts. She'll grab a pair of socks or a pair of jeans and wear them herself. You're not even sure how you own any clothes anymore, seeing as a majority of your clothes have been stolen.

“You always take my hoodies-”

“-Because they're comfy and smell like you.” She huffs as a counter, cutting you off.

“-And never give them back,” you finish, raising an eyebrow.

“And it's not like you mind that much,” she counters again.

True, you like it when she wears your clothes. Still, not all of your clothes are hers to take.

She even takes your underwear. Or, at least, the ones that you don't mind her taking. Though sometimes she'll put them on and then try to tease you by making sure they're visible by the waistband peeking up from her shorts or her pants.

She tries to justify it by saying, “No one can see me,” and the fact you “see her naked almost every day anyway.”

“My underwear is still my underwear.”

She laughs. “What, you don't like it when I wear them?” She tilts her head.

She knows damn well you like it when she wears them.

She will sit herself on your lap, wearing nothing besides a pair of your underwear and one of your hoodies. She'll start to rock her hips against you, slowly grinding against you as she stares at you.

“Never said that, did I?” you kiss her neck again. “Just saying, they're mine.” Your hands are still keeping her wrists pinned.

She wriggles in your grasp again.

“You use up the hot water trying to shower.”

She always has these long showers that last way longer than necessary. She likes taking her time with it, so half the time you're left showering in cold water. Or just sitting around and waiting till she's done.

Her hair is the reason. Sometimes you'd get frustrated when you're already late to drop Isha off at school, and Jinx is taking a long time in the shower.

But you kind of enjoyed it when you joined her under the shower.

She snickers. She's probably thinking the same thing. “Only because you jump me in the shower and start messing around,” she says, and she wiggles again, trying to pull her wrists out of your grip, and you tighten your grip on her wrists in response. She bites her bottom lip. “It's not my fault you can't get enough of me.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth again as you lean down, biting at the crook of her neck again. “No,” you respond. “I can't get enough of you.”

She sighs and arches her neck amore, letting you press more kisses against her neck, her jawline, moving towards her ear.

“You paint on my things, even though you have your own.”

She'd doodle in the margins of your newspapers, on the cover of books, on old magazines, and once she even painted designs on a white t-shirt of yours. A shirt that, now, you couldn't wear out anymore. But you kept it because she liked it when you wore it.

You remember coming home to find her painting your shoes pink, then complaining she got your shoes dirty. She was trying to make them 'prettier'.

Or the time she tried to paint the TV. Her excuse was that you needed a paintable TV. Somehow.

“Not all things are paintable.”

She huffs. “Well, all things are if you try hard enough.”

“That's not... you know that's not true,” you mutter as your grip on her wrists loosens.

Once they're free, she immediately lifts them up and hooks them around your shoulders. She pulls you down, pressing herself against you, until all you can hear is the sound of her quickened breathing and the rapid beating of her heart against her ribs.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, your nose pressing into her skin. Your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

She lifts her hands and lets her fingers tangle into your hair, playing with it before she grabs at your roots, her fingertips pressing into your scalp.

“I love you,” you murmur. “Exactly the way you are.” You pause to let it sink in, but you continue speaking before she can cut you off. “I stay with you because I want to stay with you.”

You can feel her heartbeat, the slow, steady thudding, picking up as she swallows. You can feel her hands, buried in your hair, still holding onto you. And you stay quiet too, until you feel her shift beneath you and her hands move, sliding from your hair to the sides of your face.

She pulls you away, just enough to get a look at your face. She cups your face in her palms.

You hold her hand against your cheek, turning your head as you press a kiss against her palm, before staring down into her eyes. “I'm with you,” you murmur. “Because I choose to be with you. I choose you.”

Your lips brush against the skin of her palm before they move up to her fingers. One by one, you press kisses along the tips of her fingers. “I choose to love you,” you continue. “I choose to hold you close.”

You raise your own hand, taking her palms in your grip, your thumb tracing over the ridges of her knuckles. “I choose to listen to you when you need someone to listen.” You pause to press a kiss on her wrist, feeling her pulse beating against your lips.

“I choose to stay awake with you on the bad nights.” You feel her pulse quicken when you brush your nose against it. “I choose to wake up next to you every morning. And I choose to deal with your morning breath.” You grin, and she smacks your arm at that.

Your thumb runs across the pale, soft skin of her forearms. “I choose to deal with you hogging the blankets and the space in the bed.” Your hand slides to the crook of her elbow, where you press another kiss.

“I choose to wake up to your cold feet against my legs.” Your thumb moves along the inside of her arms, tracing the shape of her bones. “I choose your snoring,” you add. “I choose to wake up with a drool on my shirt because you forgot to close your mouth.”

You press another kiss onto her skin. “I choose to deal with your bad mood by making you hot chocolate,” you continue. “I choose to deal with your bad mood by pulling you into my lap and making you snuggle with me until you calm down.”

Your hand moves to her biceps, your fingers tracing the curves of her muscles. “I choose to love you even on the hard days,” you mutter. “On the days you can't look at me in the eye. On the days when you can't get out of bed. On the days when you're angry at the world.”

Your hand travels up her arms, your eyes never leaving her face as you finally reach her shoulders. “I choose to stay beside you,” you murmur, your thumb rubbing slowly, soothing circles over her collarbone. “On the days you feel like no one understands. On the days you feel like the world is against you. I choose to stay next to you.”

“I choose to be beside you on the days you can't stand yourself,” you continue. “I choose to be beside you even on the days you think you don't deserve to be loved.”

Your thumb trails up the side of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken when you pause at her throat. “And when the world is dark and cold,” you say. “And the shadows grow long.” Your hand slides further up the long column of her neck, until your thumb sits on her jaw, and you feel her swallow. “I still choose you.”

“I have you in my arms.” Your thumb on her chin, you lift her face, tilting her head. “I have you here,” you mutter. “And even if you're not sure why. Even if you feel like you're a shadow in the dark or a whisper in a silent room,” your thumb slides along the sides of her jaw. “I know you're here, and you're real, and I choose to love you.”

“And whatever comes after this.” Your thumb traces over the line of her jaw, her chin, and upwards again, moving over her lips. “Whatever comes tomorrow. Whenever everything's dark. I still choose you.” Your thumb pauses at the corner of her mouth, and you watch the way her lips part. “I will always choose you.”

Your eyes move upwards, your gaze meeting hers. “Got all that?””

“When did you get so goddamned good at sweet talk?”

“When I met you.”

Jinx wrinkles her nose, scoffing. “Damn, that's kinda cheesy.”

“Well, I was aiming for sappy.”

“You were aiming for corny.”

“Sappy, corny, cheesy.” You shrug. “Potato, potahto.”

She scoffs. “What's next? you're gonna tell me you 'love me to the moon and back'?”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I regret falling for you.” Her hands slide from your face into your hair again, and she brings your face down, kissing you once, then twice.

You pull away, just far enough that you can look at her face. “Every time you doubt it. I'll remind you. I'll tell you if you forget.”

She shakes her head. “Cheesy.” But she pulls you closer again anyway, stealing another kiss from your lips.

You kiss her back, letting your tongue slip out to drag against her lip. She sighs against your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue between her lips. Your hands slide down from her waist to her hips and down to her rear, squeezing her in your palms.

She shudders, her own hands sliding up to grasp your shoulders as you nip at her bottom lip.

You pull away from the kiss and slide your lips down her jaw, peppering kisses all along the column of her throat. One of your hands slides up from her rear to the hem of her shirt, tugging at it.

She sighs, arching against you as your hand sneaks under the hem of her shirt to touch the bare skin of her stomach.

You slide your hand further up, feeling the smooth skin of her abdomen and the ridges of her ribs, until your fingers are tracing the edge of her bra.

Just when your fingers graze the clasp of her bra, there's a knock at the door. Before you can curse at it, there's a whine from the other side of the door and the doorknob begins to turn.

It's Isha.

She stands in the doorway, her stuffed blue rabbit held tightly in her arms. She's wearing her new pajamas.

You sigh, pulling your hand from underneath her shirt. You look down at Jinx, and her shirt is ridden up enough and a generous amount of her stomach is exposed.

Isha lets go of the doorknob and shuffles into the room.

“What is it, Isha?” Jinx asks, sitting up and pulling her shirt down to cover her stomach. She scoots over on the bed, allowing you to move away from her to sit at the edge.

Isha shuffles closer, stopping just at the edge of the bed but not climbing up, and looks up at the both of you with wide, watery eyes.

“What's wrong, little one?” you ask, beckoning her to climb onto the bed.

She lets go of her bunny to grab at your hand, her fingers curling around your palm. You help her onto the bed, watching as she tucks her rabbit under her arm, once again holding it closely to her chest.

She's sitting between the two of you now, her little hands holding onto your own and Jinx's.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jinx asks. You watch her lift a hand to brush some of the hair out of Isha's face.

She shakes her head. Her eyes dart down to her bunny, then to the hands that she's holding.

“Then what's wrong, sweetheart?” You give her hand a squeeze. “Do you want to sleep with us?”

She nods, lifting her gaze to look at you. Her head turns to look at Jinx as well, who simply smiles down at her.

You let out a sigh, letting go of her hand to scoot back on the bed. “Okay.” You pat the empty space between you and Jinx. “Come on, then.”

She wastes no time scrambling over the covers, crawling over so she's sitting between you and Jinx. Jinx grabs her bunny and sets it near the pillow, making sure it's within Isha's reach.

Isha then plops down onto the bed and lays down, pulling her bunny close to her chest once more. Then she rolls over and snuggles up against your side, her head resting on your chest.

“She’s always stealing you from me,” Jinx mutters.

You reach out and pull Jinx against you, sandwiching Isha between the two of you. “Jealous much?”

“Nah.” She props herself up on her elbow to look down at the girl between you and pokes her cheek.

Isha grumbles, burying her face in your chest in an attempt to shield it. You laugh and wrap your arm around her body, holding her securely against you.

Jinx pokes her again, this time prodding a little harder. Isha whines and buries deeper into you.

“Stop it, you're bothering her.” You reach over and grab Jinx's hand so that she can't poke Isha again.

Jinx flips you off, then stops poking the girl. Instead, she lays back down on the bed and drapes her arm over both you and Isha. Isha grumbles, her fingers gripping at your shirt.

You look down at the girl, her head still nestled against your chest. You brush some of the hair out of her face, then gently rub her back. Slowly, her body starts to relax, her tight grip on your shirt loosening as she begins to fall asleep.

You glance over at Jinx, who's watching you with a smile on her face. She reaches over and pats Isha's head a couple of times before returning her hand to your side.

“She's asleep,” you whisper, looking down at the now dozing girl. Her eyes are closed, her tiny hands are no longer gripping at your shirt, and her features are relaxed. Jinx nods, her hand rubbing up and down your side.

Jinx shifts and cuddles closer to you, one of her legs wrapping around yours beneath the covers. “You know, we're going to have to sleep like this all night now,” she mumbles as she runs her fingers through your hair.

“Mmm, don't remind me,” you murmur. “She's as clingy as you sometimes.”

Jinx scoffs, poking you in the ribs with one of her nails. “She's a hundred times worse.”

Your side aches where she poked you, and you huff out a breath, swatting at her hand. “Maybe we should get a bigger bed.”

She snickers. “And risk having more room for little miss clingy to steal you from me? no thank you.”

“I think it is quite literally impossible for you to get clingier,” you mutter. “Besides, why are you so jealous of a ten year old?”

“I can be plenty clingy,” Jinx counters, her hand scratching at your scalp. “And I'm not jealous,” she continues. “She just needs to stay in her own goddamn bed.”

“We could start locking the door?”

Jinx snorts, her hand leaving your head. “And leave her to bang on and whine at the door for hours?” She scoffs. “Absolutely not. I'd be fine if she didn't crawl into our bed, but she always does the moment we're trying to have some alone time.”

“Fair enough” you sigh. “Maybe we could lock her door, keep her in there.”

Jinx laughs, poking at you again with a fingernail. “Or, or... we could just lock her out of our room instead and let her deal with herself for once.”

“You know that would never work,” you say. “She’d just end up sleeping on the floor in front of our door until we let her back in.”

“Ugh, I know.” She groans. “She really is the biggest pain in my ass. Second biggest, now that I think about it.”

“And who's the first?”

“Who do you think, dickhead?” she teases.

“Ah, me, of course.” Jinx pokes you in the ribs again. “Ouch. Hey, stop that,” you murmur, swatting at her hand.

Jinx scoffs, a smirk on her face as she pokes you again. “It's so fun to annoy you.” Her finger pokes into your side for a third time.

“Okay, okay, enough,” you grab her hand to stop another poke. “I surrender, you're the biggest pain in my ass.”

“I know,” Jinx grins, pulling her hand free to poke you one final time before resting it back down on your side. “I'm also the hottest pain in your ass, too. No one else compares.”

“You're the hottest and the biggest pain in both of my ass cheeks.” You brush some of her hair away from her face.

“Damn right,” she says, leaning into your touch for a moment before grinning and placing her palm against one of your ass cheeks. “My pain in the ass.”

—

“Ugh. She's still asleep?” Jinx whispers, staring down at the drooling little girl between the two of you.

You look down at her, her face pressed against your chest and a pool of drool collecting on your shirt. You try to shift away, but the girl won't let you go, her body and fingers still wrapped around you.

“You know…” you whisper, looking pointedly at the drool on your shirt. “She's just like you.”

You swear you just saw her eyes twitch.

...you end up on the floor the moment you wake up after that.

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