#i know i know ill try to do something now

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - one (j.yh)

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

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

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

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 17.9k

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

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

“Fuck,” You breathe, “hey,” 

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

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

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

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I guess.” 

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

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

“Thank you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” He checks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” He tilts his face up to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” He hums and stays relaxed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” He laughs, “of course, yeah,” 

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

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

The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s yours. 

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

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

“You didn’t?” His hand falls. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head, “No,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A soulmate. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His shoulders relax just a little. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” You assure him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m good,” You nod, “don’t worry,” 

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

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

“Am I good?” Yunho checks. 

Your eyes flick over him fast, “Yep,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really is yours. 

It turns out that later means much later. 

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

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

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

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

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

A soft knock at the door makes your stomach lurch. 

You’re frozen. 

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

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

“I waited,” You manage. 

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

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

He nods, “Come to my room?” 

“Are you sure?” Your eyes widen. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the heavy door shuts behind you, you sigh. 

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

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

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

“It feels pretty real,” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You what?” Your eyebrows raise. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Completely,” He nods, “did yours?” 

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

“Does it feel,” He starts.

“Warm?” 

“Yes,” He nods, “and tender?” 

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

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

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

“You want to see it?” He surmises. 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” 

His lips quirk, “I’m comfortable,”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

He shakes his head, “Not before today,” 

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

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

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

“You feel that?” He asks, “Right?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it always feel like that?” 

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

He smiles, “Your sister found her soulmate?” 

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

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

“Younger,” You say.  

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

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

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

Your heart quickens and you nod. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your voice is thready. 

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

“Yes,” You agree, painfully quickly. 

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

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

You wonder what more will feel like. 

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

You nod. 

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

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

“You can feel that?” 

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

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

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

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

“Feel alright?” He murmurs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels so right, so essential under your touch. 

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

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

“Yunho,” You shiver. 

“Cold?” He gravitates a little closer. 

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

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

His lips are on yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to slow down,” He manages. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Overwhelming,” You nod, exhaling softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You straighten up again, finding his eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your tight hands uncurl. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s yours. 

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

“This is real,” You murmur. 

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

“You’re mine,” 

“Yes,” He grins. 

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

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

“Together,” You nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is nice,” You smile. 

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

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

“It is,”

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

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

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

 “I had no idea,” 

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” You perk up, “Who?” 

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

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

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

You nod. 

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

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

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

You sigh, letting his softness calm you again. 

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

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

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

That wakes you up. 

Your eyebrows raise, “Stay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With me?” His eyebrows raise. 

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

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

“It is what it is,” 

“Are your parents soulmates?” He asks softly. 

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

You watch his eyes widen in surprise. 

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

“For status?” He surmises. 

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

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

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

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

“It could,” 

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

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

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

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

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

Your smile at his warm expression. 

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

Your throat constricts, tears threatening for a moment. 

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

“Very,”

“I’d like to meet her,” He smiles. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

“She’s funny,” He smirks. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your eyes feel heavy. 

“Yeah,” He kisses your forehead. 

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

“Mhm,” He yawns too, “me too, jagi,” 

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

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

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

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

Nuzzled against his tattoo, you drift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Naive is what it is,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long?” Seonghwa manages. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Yunho laughs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth feels dry. 

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

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

You both wait. 

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

Yunho nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Yunho curses. 

You both slept straight through Yunho’s alarm. 

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

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

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

Did you already get up and get ready?

Your work bag is still here…

Not funny, girl, where are you?

Did you make it back last night? 

Can you answer me?? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa huffs a laugh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With some guy?” She stands. 

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” You say again. 

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

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

“Iseul,” Your cheeks heat. 

She points at you, “I’m right!” 

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

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

“I can’t,” You press, “leave it,” 

“Why are you being so weird?” 

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

“I’m not letting this go,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” 

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

“Fine,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You miss him. 

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

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

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

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

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

So you’re as awake as I am? 

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

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

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

Nope - You tease back. 

Was she upset? - He asks. 

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

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

How was Seonghwa? - You tap out. 

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

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

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

That’s good - You send back. 

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

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

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

Why’s that? - You tease him. 

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

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

So who did she guess? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exactly - You reply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your thighs press together - Yunho?

Yes, jagi?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you have headphones? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want me? - You ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

I was tossing and turning. 

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

You send him another emoji, the blushing face. 

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

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

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

Wearing? 

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

I asked you first.

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

A heavy sigh passes through your lips. 

“And you?” 

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

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

Me too 

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

Me either - You confess. 

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

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

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

You message him one last thought - What about you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” You murmur in a whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s good, that’s so good,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Uh-huh,” You manage. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” He murmurs, “you okay?” 

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

He hums, a quiet, lazy laugh, “Ah,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, baby?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” 

“Are your headphones still in?” He asks

“No, but I can switch back,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[autumngracy]

Obviously not everyone is able to do this, but growing some of the produce that are most affected by outbreaks of listeria and such is a really good idea. Of course you still need to wash them thoroughly before eating, but you'd be far less likely to get a food borne illness from something you grew yourself and ate at the peak of freshness.

Tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, herbs, onions, scallions, potatoes, strawberries, etc. are pretty easy to grow with a limited amount of space and resources. When I had a roomate she grew potatoes out on the apartment balcony. Growing tomatoes in pots is a breeze (just rememberto give those suckers some support).

If you buy store bought produce, try to buy it as whole as possible. Pre-chopped things are far more likely to harbor bacteria and stuff (this goes for meat as well). You'll need to pull apart certain things like celery and lettuce heads to eat them, and you should be sure to wash them really well, especially where they were connected to the base, because that's where the most dirt accumulates. Chopping off the bits nearest to the base is also good practice.

I know there is a stigma against frozen foods, but I need you to know that it's bullshit. Frozen produce may not have the ideal texture or flavor, but it's less likely to have any food borne illnesses (I say LESS because there ARE some things that can survive being frozen).

Frozen food is also nutritionally equivalent (or sometimes even superior to) the "fresh" version. I say "fresh" because a lot of things are picked in a semi-unripe state and have been sitting around partially or artificially ripening for days or weeks during shipping, getting bounced around and bruised. They don't always taste as good or have as many nutrients as home grown stuff that's allowed to properly ripen. But frozen foods are frozen immediately after being picked and washed, and don't go through the same shipping issues, so they're allowed to fully ripen, as the issue of potentially rotting before getting to the customer is no longer a problem.

If you can peel it, like a carrot or an apple, this is helpful from a food safety standpoint, but isn't always necessary. If you're boiling those carrots or potatoes, you don't need to peel them. (A lot of nutrients are in potato skins, so it's healthier to leave them on). You still gotta wash 'em, though.

When you order fast food, you may want to customize the order and take out onions or lettuce as a preventative measure, since those ingredients have been affected by many outbreaks recently and will likely continue to do so (onion rings should be fine though, since they're fried).

It's also more important now than ever to pay attention to news about food recalls, and yes this means actively looking up sites that list recalls, rather than hoping you'll randomly hear about it before unknowingly eating a contaminated product. We are going to have so much more food safety issues after Trump & Co. start gutting the FDA (again).

All this to say, wash your produce (even if it says it was already washed), don't buy stuff pre-cut, don't be afraid to buy frozen, stay up to date on the latest recal news, and maybe try out growing some of your own produce, if you can.

i’m actually scared that food safety is going to get so much worse. of course i expected that it would stay bad - since it’s been basically unchanged for the last four years. but now, we gotta worry that it’s going to get more privatized and lax all over again. people shouldn’t have to live in fear that their food could make them sick or kill them. people shouldn’t lose access to their main sources of food because of an illness outbreak.

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[jazzyblusnowflake]

(If this was asked before, I swear to god.) FullCompany (NUziVJ) Headcannons?

aaaaaaaaa time to write once more- i missed being able to type away like the lil shit i am-

anyhow- okay lets see- gonna add some things here- tbh my ideas was mostly for Jenvy ideas mainly- but i guess ill fit Uzi in there lol

Some JeNVUzi HCs:

[once again- Drone au only, and maybe minor suggestive content but not nsfw]

The polycule is essentially formed around Uzi pulling them back together-

J's original reason for siding with Cyn which was rooted in fear- was on the basis that she still had her team on her side so she could keep them safe and so theyd have eachother to rely on even after Cyn destroys everything. she did not however, account for Uzi coming along and messing everything up and ruining her team's alignment while she was "dead".

the entire reason J tried to kill N or V at any time was cuz she knew a clone of them would be sent back anyway- she has basically become desensitized towards death in general given she had also died around 12 times herself [canon]- V and N try to help her through this- during which they also deal with Vs behavior and Ns trauma too.

to communicate with J they often had to spar with her- seeing as she hated talking about feelings- but this became their own thing they all did afterwards to unwind and communicate- as J opened up a lot easier after feeling like she was reached out to.

Uzi and J bond over anime and gaming- the latter being somewhere J could actually use her anger on more effectively XD

they all like reading books every now and then where one would read and the others snuggle or cuddle- they take turns. [this is from their manor days]

J is... unable to emote or show emotion easily and it eats her alive. she can't show the appropriate needed emotion to the mood of the room and it makes her have breakdowns- occasionally throw up- as though you are desperately trying to cry but the tears wont come so you try heaving it out- make yourself fit in and look normal by trying to FEEL something- but she cant. J is a dated business model drone- custom made for office work- she was made to be this way- Cyn didn't change her- and she grows to hate herself for it. so when a situation happens that she doesn't know how to react, she leaves or hides- until N,V or Uzi find her- usually disassociating or somewhat catatonic.

Uzi occasionally feels out of place with the group, as though she's just being a literal 4th wheel, since they have history together. the others try to show her that she is important to them each in their own ways-

addressing the elephant in the room- yes, it took a long time for N and J to come to terms with eachother- J eventually accepting that her original reason for hating N [him being better than her or preferred over her esp by Tessa] wasn't important anymore- and tries to appreciate him and V and Uzi more in whatever is left of her life.

make no mistake V and J are still very much bitchy on a surface level- just cuz they are all growing close does not mean they are all now lovey dovey with eachother or sweet and character-redemption-ed with everyone around them. therefore: "playful catfights" >:3 !

V and Uzi tease J alot- this is one of the reasons why J found more comfort with N- not gonna tell him to his face tho lol.

J teaches N to draw better and they bond over that alot-

Uzi and J like attention alot- and they wanna get it by being as wordless as possible- very cat coded.

Uzi, V and N like to drag J into doing more normal things that have less to do with work. so far J has mostly shown some interest in writing and maybe poetry but she WILL shoot your head off if you try to read her stuff-

J's first kiss was with Uzi- N and V having kissed once back at the manor being eachothers first kiss. J thinks V kisses the best tho lol.

N and V like to cuddle a lot- J and Uzi are usually dependent on mood-

V likes to bite- J likes to be bitten, N and Uzi like both- :3

J likes playing with N and Uzi's fluffy hair. V only lets N touch her hair.

during intimate cuddles- J has passed out the most lol. Uzi following a close second lol-

Uzi and J yap alot about tech work-

hmm this is all i can think about for NOW-

:"3

[mychlapci]

not to be too SFW but considering writing a TFP fic where it’s revealed Rachet’s sparked up in a pretty public way; like, Ratchet’s been feeling ill and off for a few weeks and is doing a diagnostic with the others in the room and suddenly he practically falls on his aft in shock because surprise!! it’s a bitty!! (who’s the sire? Undecided/kinda unimportant but for sentiment I’d say Optimus but for humor I’d say Wheeljack) and he can’t hide the results fast enough because being sparked was so far out of Ratchet’s realm of possibilities it was orbiting Cybertron- but then Jack’s asking what “sparked up” means and suddenly everyone’s just staring at each other.

So all the bots are bracing themselves to explain what’s essentially Robot Pregnancy to the kids… but they’re admittedly a little blindsided when it seems, out of everything taken from rushed and cobbled together biology lesson, the biggest concern between the three (esp Miko) is that Ratchet is pregnant, not the actual pregnancy itself. Like, sure sure aliens wouldn’t conform to human genders/biology, that makes sense even to these mid-2010’s teens, but Ratchet??

But you know how kids get grossed out by their parents kissing? Because while they know their parents love each other, and people kiss when they’re in love, something about it being their parents just makes it icky? It’s pretty much that phenomenon, except it’s the weird old guy you’re friends with randomly revealing a neon sign that confirms he has sex. That’s Jack and Miko and Raf’s life right now.

(wanna emphasize, the three are very happy for him and everything, but at first it’s definitely more of a “I’m smiling but you can see I’m trying not to think about it too hard” sort of happiness.)

oooooh i love that, i would absolutely click on a fanfic like that and reread it multiple times.

ou no they have to face the fact that grandpa fucks. and he fucks raw and hard enough to get pregnant. gross! i would love it if Wheeljack was the deadbeat runaway baby daddy. but if it’s Optimus, there’s also the added horror on the kids’ (and probably also the bots’) side as they have to come to terms with the fact that Optimus Prime also fucks raw.

[archiveikemen]

"Dark If" Story Event: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games.

Read this before interacting

It had been several days since I came to the castle. … But my situation remained unchanged. 

No matter how begged him to, the fairy refused to break the curse or even extend the deadline. 

(I’m forbidden from leaving the castle too, so I don't have any other options…)

What hurt me even more was Ellis. 

Ever since learning about his connection with Jude, I’ve started actively avoiding him. 

(Just this morning…)

= Flashback Start = 

Ellis: Good morning, Kate. I brought breakfast.

Ellis: I’ve got your favourite freshly baked bread with raspberry jam. 

Kate: …

Ellis: … I don’t mind if you don’t talk to me, but please eat. I’m worried about you.

Ellis: You won’t have energy without water, nutrients, and sunlight…

= Flashback End = 

Feelings of guilt welled up in me again when I recalled the sadness in his face as he left. 

(I really do want to go back to being friends like we were, but I just can’t find the right chance…) 

I wandered into the castle garden to clear my mind. 

Looking at the briar made me think of him—

Kate: … Ellis…

I unintentionally called out his name. 

In an instant, the briar in the garden rustled and crept towards me— suddenly, small white flowers bloomed from them. 

(... It’s almost as though they’re trying to cheer me up.)

(I remember how I used to see briar as my friend.) 

During my childhood, being a princess meant that I didn't have many people I could talk freely with and was hence often feeling lonely…

I’d always talk to the briar growing in the castle’s back garden. 

(I’d tell it all sorts of silly things… like how much I loved raspberry jam or how the air smells after it rains.)

(... Come to think of it, I gave the briar a name too.)

There was once where a gardener tried to clear out the briar for being a nuisance, so I gave it a name to protect it. 

“This is my friend! Don’t cut it away! It even has a name, it’s—” 

(I… what did I name that briar again?) 

I tried my best to recall… but in the end, I couldn't remember it at all. 

Still, the flowers blooming from the briar were a beautiful sight and gave me the courage to apologise to Ellis for my recent attitude towards him. 

Kate: I wonder where Ellis is right now…

Just as I muttered those words under my breath, the briar started stretching in one direction. 

Kate: Are you… pointing me towards Ellis?

When I asked, half-convinced, more white flowers bloomed rapidly as though telling me that I was right.

Kate: Thanks, I’ll follow you. 

Having grown accustomed to the peculiarities of the fairytale world, I followed after the briar. 

…

(Oh, there’s Ellis… and is that Jude with him?)

Ellis: — Why don't you break Kate’s curse, Jude?

Ellis: She really wishes for you to.

Jude: Ha? Don’t ask me such stupid questions. I’m tryin’ to do somethin’ ‘bout her illness, ain’t I? 

(Do something about my “illness”...?) 

(The thing I have is a “curse”, isn’t it? … What illness is he talking about?)

Kate: What do you mean by that, Jude?

Jude: W-when did ya… were ya eavesdroppin’? 

Ellis: Jude. Kate looks like she really wants to know, so just tell her about it.

Kate: Please do…! 

Jude: … 

Jude sighed… and began telling a truth I never knew.

Apparently, I had an incurable disease and my time was limited.

Jude learned of this by chance and in an attempt to help me, he cursed me so that I would fall into a deep slumber for 100 years right before my death. 

Jude: After ya fall asleep, I’ll spend that 100 years searchin’ for a cure and pay back my debt. 

Kate: So you were trying to help me… thank you for that.

Kate: But why didn't you clear up the misunderstanding earlier?

Judes … Says the daughter of the stupid King who won’t listen to a damn thing anyone tells him. 

Kate: I-I’m sorry my father was rude… 

Kate: … But I’m glad I found out about it now.

Kate: It means I won't have a misunderstanding towards you anymore… and I don’t have to think I’ve been “betrayed” by Ellis. 

Ellis: … So does that mean we can go back to being friends? 

Kate: If you’re alright with it, of course. … I’m sorry for treating you so coldly. 

Ellis: I didn’t mind, so you don’t have to worry about that either.

Seeing Ellis’ smile at me like flowers blooming had my heart racing again.

— It felt like it was urging me to realise something, a certain feeling. 

…

Later that night, after Ellis and I cleared up the misunderstanding between us and reconciled.

Ellis suddenly asked me a question after dinner.

Ellis: You don’t need Jude to break your curse anymore?

Kate: Of course not! The purpose of Jude’s curse is to keep me alive, after all.

Ellis: …

Kate: … Ellis? 

Although I thought my answer was to be expected, Ellis looked surprised.

I began to worry if I had said something strange. 

Ellis: If you’re fine with the curse not being broken…

Ellis: … Does that mean you still want to live? 

Kate: …? Yeah. There are things I still have to do… 

Although I had put it on hold for a while, I needed to find what was missing from this story and correct the twists. 

(Oh… but if I fix the twist and return to my original world…)

(I won’t be able to be together with Ellis anymore.) 

When I first came to this fairytale world, all I could think about was that I had to find a way back… 

But along the way, I started feeling like I didn't want to leave. The main reason was Ellis.

(I want to spend more time with Ellis.) 

(I want to eat delicious food with him, enjoy beautiful sights together… I’d even love to go on another journey with him.)

(I want to know more about Ellis. I want to see his smile from even closer to him…) 

Those desires flowed endlessly through me, filling my heart with a strong yearning. 

(Could this feeling be… love?) 

That said, my life was still in danger and it wasn't the right time to be confessing to him. 

(I’ve decided… once my illness is cured, I’ll tell Ellis about my feelings.)

However, while I was making that decision, I didn't notice that Ellis’ twilight coloured eyes had darkened and clouded over. 

…

And so, the search for a cure to my illness began. 

Although, in reality, it was Jude who did most of the actual searching and mixing potential medicine while Ellis took down the pursuers sent by my father and the assassins targeting Jude. 

Meanwhile, I took care of our meals, clothes, and living space, supporting them in their everyday lives. 

— But there was no progress, and time continued slipping away. 

…

Jude: … We’re short on medicinal ingredients, so I’m headin’ out. Be back in half a day. 

Although he’d never admit it, Jude looked worn out as he spoke before leaving the castle.

(Is it really alright to leave everything to Jude? Maybe there’s more I could be doing to help…)

Ellis: … Something on your mind, Kate?

Kate: Yeah. I’m just… frustrated that all I can do is watch from the sidelines…

Ellis: I see… is there anything I can do to help? 

Ellis: I like you, so I want to give you strength.

Kate: eh.

(W-what kind of “like” does he mean…?)

I was a blushing mess but when I glanced at Ellis’ facial expression, he looked the same as always… he didn't look like he was confessing his love. 

Kate: Just in case… Ellis, do you like Jude? 

Ellis: Jude? Yeah, I do. I owe him, after all.

Kate: I-I see…

(... Thank goodness I didn't jump to conclusions. Ellis’ definition of “I like you” is platonic!) 

It was a little disappointing, but I quickly regained my composure and returned to the topic. 

Kate: Umm, anyway… I think I should do some research on my illness too.

Kate: Will you help me?

…

And so, we made our way to the study that Jude said was off-limits to us.

Kate: Found it! 

Thanks to Jude’s meticulous personality, it didn't take long for us to find what we were looking for. 

The research report about my illness was stored neatly in one of the desk drawers. 

Kate: Um, let's see… “Briar Disease”?

According to the report, I contracted the disease by pricking myself on the thorns of a special kind of enchanted briar. 

(Briar? Could it be…) 

I was suddenly reminded of the briar I would talk to as a child. 

(I remember being pricked by one of them and coming down with a high fever.)

(... Maybe that’s when I contracted this illness.)

“When the time comes, the thorn embedded in the body will rapidly grow, destroying the patient from their insides and ultimately resulting in death.” 

“The only solution is to completely eliminate the existence of the briar the thorn came from, whether it is by burning or other means.” 

As I read further, I found out that Jude had already identified the briar in question and it grew in the royal castle’s back garden.

However—.

“The briar is stubborn and unyielding, resisting all attempts to eliminate it.” 

“It's a monstrous plant that regenerates even when burned or cut down. All efforts were in vain.” 

Kate: So Jude concluded that it’s impossible to destroy the briar and started researching other ways to cure the illness.

Ellis: Yeah, he really tried every method he could come up with. He drowned it, froze it, burned it… you name it. 

Ellis: The most painful one was when he chopped it up. 

(Ellis was involved in trying to kill the briar too…)

(Since the briar is thorny, holding it while chopping it up must've hurt really badly.) 

Ellis: … Hey, Kate.

Ellis: Do you truly want to cure your illness and continue living? 

(I want to live, and… I want to keep talking to Ellis more and more.)

Kate: Yeah… of course.

Ellis: I see… so that’s your current wish. 

Ellis: It’s… different from back then. 

For some reason, Ellis wore a rather lonely smile. 

Kate: Ellis…?

Ellis: … I understand your feelings. Well then, let’s go.

Ellis: If we go now, we can kill the briar. 

[d0g-water]

Haiii, I recently discovered your account and absolutely adore your writing! You write alex so well! I was wondering if I could put in a request for oral sex{fem receiving} during a stream?

Maybe alex and reader are doing a stream together with rubius in voice chat, alex "drops his phone", under the desk . Letting reader play on his fortnite account and talk to rubius while hes "getting his phone". Meanwhile hes going to town on readers pussy making it hard for her to focus on stream and later after stream getting a voice text from rubi that he heard EVERYTHING alex was doing🫣

If this is too much you don't have to write it and ill completely understand!!

THANK YOU MY LOVE!! your wish is my command baby <33

today, it was a stream on quackity fortnite with you and rubius!

since he doesn't usually do face cam for the channel, you didn't think much when he invited you, even when he had some sort of strange grin on his face...

rubius wanted to join, to meet you for the first time! since alex had just announced that he had a lovely girlfriend but wouldn't reveal her face until enough time has passed. for now, it was just your voice his chat had to know.

you were wearing one of your boyfriend's shirts with some shorts and fluffy socks, and you were sitting on his gamer chair as alexis decided on a barstool.

"you can play first, amor." alex tells you, putting his headphones over your ears. he left you with the responsibility to entertain his audience with rubius.

you couldn't speak spanish completely well, and the nervousness you felt when you were alone with rubius didn't help... but it was okay, because he was there.

you select his skin to try and get a good first impression, but it hardly seemed to work... at least that's what you thought. ruben was a much bigger person, he was known by the whole world.

so when he begins the match with asking you some silly questions about your relationship with quackity, it was only tightening the knot in your stomach more.

alexis was joking around with him, telling him that just because he's jealous doesn't mean he should take it out on his girlfriend. it was all sweet, really.

there were some flirtatious jokes the two threw at each other, making you the third wheel... but you didn't mind. after all, they were close. they met before you started dating alexis, you couldn't complain!

as the match continued for longer, with only thirty players still standing, the pressure was growing and you needed to focus.

you couldn't afford to be distracted, so when alexis 'dropped' his phone underneath his desk, it scared you.

"did i scare you, amor? sorry... i'll just get it." he says.

...annoying.

you roll the chair to make space for him to get underneath the table, your attention locked with the game and rubius....

but you feel a familiar texture against your legs, and large hands underneath your shirt to grab the waistband of your shorts.

you know this is alexis, but before you could say something, you look down and notice how drawn his eyes were with your thick thighs and visible fat pussy through those shorts.

without hesitation, he strips them and not letting you react. the amount of players on the game was decreasing, and rubius was constantly calling your name to help eliminate them.

his hands pull your knees forward, as he leans in to press his tongue against your inner corners. as much as you wanted to, you couldn't let any noises out.. you had to let him do this.

you lay back as much as you could, enough for his tongue to enter between your lips. he licks at your clit first, shaking you up before he dives in even more.

he sucks against the bud, tasting how salty but sweet you are. his eyes are closed, and he hums in amusement. he enjoys how good you are, wether it was doing absolutely anything or just your body serving him the best fluids his taste buds will ever have.

meanwhile, up there, you were hardly talking and letting your hard breaths speak into the microphone for you. rubius was shouting at you through the screen, demanding you to get back on track as more and more players were dying.

"i-i'm trying, rubius! it's just that-- it's a little cold..." you lie, trying to cover up the oral your boyfriend is giving you down there.

alex felt reckless today, he made sure everyone knew you were lying. his lips took yours entirely, a loud smack can be heard but you're not sure if it was cancelled out. he kept going at it until you were trembling, fighting for your life to hold back the moans that were threatening to escape your throat.

rubius was already stressing, as you two were one of the very last ones that were still alive.

your hands were shaking and your aiming was falling off, alexis was already eating you out as hard as he could down there.

the adrenaline was kicking in, your head would've started aching but you were too distracted from how good your man's tongue was.

you were 1v1 with another player before dying, a loud curse from you was taken as a reaction from dying... when that was partially the reason. you could care less about losing, you were getting close and alexis knew it.

his tongue makes one final lick on your clit before you cum, shuddering violently and it could be heard in your voice- however, no one but alexis knew...

~

when the stream finally ended, you scolded alexis for humiliating you in front of thousands of people. he knew you half-cared, but that didn't matter.

it was your first time meeting rubius, and he ruined it!

alexis just shrugged it off, "he didn't know what i was doing anyway. it was his first time meeting you, he probably just thought you were shy."

he was probably right, so you didn't try to fight with him about it. he knew more about rubius than you did, so why bother?

.........it was until then, you receive your first text from him. you almost freaked out, a famous content creator is really texting you! but it was a voice message, so you had to listen to it.

it was a bit weird though, is he going to introduce himself properly? or is he going to apologize for being hard on you during the match?

you open the notification and press the play button for the note,

as you listened to it, your body went cold. immediately.

"buenas tardes, y/n.

i heard everything you and quackity did during that fortnite match,

you two are disgusting."

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

What is reader had some kind of an illness or disability? Maybe it’s an illness or disability that requires medicine that you could only get from readers world. Would they constantly be trying to find a way to replicate the medication or get some of the medication from her world until they could find a way to replicate it? I ask this because some people do in fact need medication

What would they do? That honestly depends on the illness or disability. Since we have a very very very wide range of things you need medicine for. So I'll give just a few examples.

If it's a kind of illness that Reader would actually die from? Then let's hope she had some of the medicine with her to begin with, but let's just say she had enough for a while. The Monkey duo would figure out about it within the first few days of course. And it really doesn't take that long for them to fall for Reader so they don't mess with it. (In fact they help make sure she takes it when she's supposed to)

If this is the case of what's happening then they don't stop her from going home, even though they want to. They don't know how to keep her alive, they don't want her to die. Not because of some illness, not because of anything! Now even though they let her go home that doesn't mean they let her go alone~ shes going to have two monkeys following her every step.

During the time that she's in her own world they will find out exactly what the medication she needs is. They'll study it and find out how to replicate it. Maybe try to search for a cure if there is one. If they get their true forms back before going back home if they aren't found out then they'll shapeshift back into the cubs that Reader knows. After all they aren't trying to scare her away.

Once they find out exactly what the medication is and how to replicate it (one way or another) then they will purposefully make sure Reader gets back to their world. These two warlords don't like Reader's home town, they don't like the hospital she goes to and they don't like how polluted the world is either. Blaring noises, also give Macaque a huge headache which he does NOT appreciate.

If Reader needs medication for help with something then we've got a different situation. Because some people need medication to focus or to make life easier.

Of course they don't WANT to see her hurting or make things harder for her but she doesn't really NEED this medicine. They can find a way to replicate it for her. They can find a way to maybe even cure it. Elixirs, powerful artifacts, different monks or demons could also help them somehow.

Wukong is desperate to keep her safe and cared for without letting her go home. He will do whatever she wants him to to make her feel better anything except allowing her to go home.

Wukong and Macaque will do their best to make her life as simple and easy as possible. Even if they aren't able to give her the medication she wants / needs. Chronic headaches? Rest and they'll give her all kinds of pain relief. Terrible menstrual cycles? Rest in the hotsprings it'll relieve some of the pain, and they'll even give back massages (if she allows it)

Again these are just a few small examples of what the Monkey duo would do. If Reader needed medication. There would probably be more stuff they would do, it just depends on why she needs it and what it's for. Heck even with the medication for her life they would be looking for some way to cure it after all.

Hope you liked this ask!! Sorry no scene for this one.

Leave a comment, like and reblog if you can/want to. No pressure. Hope everyone has a great day. And enjoy the noms.

[daiskiii]

hi diva, saw that y you're taking requests and had to think of something with anya x reader :3

would you be comfortable with writing anya x non-binary! reader where they're together and she takes care of them after getting ill on the ship? reader feels like a burden yey anya reassures them that she's thei girlfriend and will always take care of them no matter what :3

Authors note: Hii i hope this is what you were looking for! thank you for the request :3 Let me know if theres any mistakes !

Anya mouthwashing x Nonbinary reader

Fluff, established relationship, lmk if i missed anything!

You, Anya, Daisuke and Swansea had met up in the main area during your breaks simply just to talk about how everything’s going and listen to Daisuke talk about his favourite pokémon’s, thats all you gathered anyway as your headache was unbearable and making it hard for you to listen in on what they were talking about.

After a while Anya noticed something was wrong and at first she thought you were probably just tired and wouldn’t want her to make a big deal out of it but after seeing you caress the side of your head groaning slightly out of pain it hit her that it was more than just tiredness.

“Are you okay?” Her words slapped you out of thought as you groggily averted your gaze towards her “Hm? oh yeah i’m fine, just didn’t sleep that well” She hums in acknowledgment even though her expression tells you she knows somethings off, but decided to take your word for it and leave it be for now.

As you all went back to work you couldn’t help but rest your back against the wall, eventually sliding down as you hid your head in your knees, taking a small break from work as your headache was not only getting worse but also making you cough every five seconds.

You sigh in annoyance while attempting to massage your temples hoping it would ease the pain. You heard footsteps approaching as you sat there contemplating whether you should look up and see who it is or stay on the ground and pray it isn’t Curly or Jimmy while trying your best to calm your headache down, you decided for the latter.

“Oh god y/n are you okay?” A familiar voice caught your attention as you looked up only to find Anya looking down at you anxiously, her face full of worry and concern. “I’m fine just needed a little break” you said as you closed your eyes, the lights only worsening your headache.

“y/n i wanna believe that i really do but i could hear you coughing all the way down the hall- are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as she crouched down to your level, slowly raising her hand to your forehead. “Jesus y/n.. you’re heating up!” she yelped, helping you stand as you leaned your back against the wall once more. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little headache it’ll go away” she looked at you unconvinced as she held your hand and brought you to medical despite you insisting you were fine, laying you down on the bed while she looked through the cabinets for some medicine.

“You don’t have to do this you know.. i’ll just walk it off” You said as you slowly sat up, holding your head as you groaned in pain, it felt like the whole room was spinning. “Y/n, you’re ill, i’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing.. i care about you, not only as your nurse but also as your girlfriend. Take these, they should help ease the headache” She said softly as she handed you some medicine and a glass of water.

“Anya, really, you don’t have to do this.. i don’t wanna be a burden. I’ll just ask curly if i can take the day off or something..” you said as you swallow the pills she had given you, handing her the glass when you were done, groggily getting up to leave before Anya stood in front of the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“You’re not a burden, y/n. Lay down, please. I can’t go around knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.. lay down and let me make you feel better, please.” she pleaded as she looked at you, holding you hand and raising the other one to your cheek, softly rubbing her thumb back and forth.

As much as you didn’t want to be a burden your headache was getting horrible and the thought of laying in a bed with your girlfriend holding you company didn’t sound so bad, it was either that or work your ass off for the next few hours. “Okay, but don’t over work yourself, the headache will go away after a while” You said as her gaze softened, pressing a kiss to your cheek before laying you back down and making the lights more dim so the brightness wouldn’t worsen your headache.

“I’ll go tell Curly you’re not feeling well. I’ll be right back, okay?” she said softly as you turned to look at her “Mhm, love you” you said as she turned to walk out the door, quickly turning around and saying “i love you too” before strolling down the hall, leaving you feeling tired. Taking a nap sounds pretty nice right now. Closing your eyes makes the headache a bit more bearable as you end up fall asleep not soon before Anya came back.

She walked into the room barely able to make out your sleeping figure in the dim lights, smiling at you as she kissed your forehead and muttered a quiet “i love you” before turning around to continue her work, your light snores like lullabies to her as she took a deep breath, relaxing her tense muscles knowing you’re resting still in her reach, knowing she can keep you safe.

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just “had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

omg hi if ur inbox is open can u give us a short blurb/your thoughts on or some kind of headcanon list for yan tim drake (romantic) bc ur interpretation of him is so yum🤤 i like how you rlly focus on more darker aspects of his character which i dont see a lot of ppl doing unfortunately bc the way he’s a complete FREAK LMFAO🫣🫣

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, mentally ill Tim, psychotic Tim, just Tim, he’s a problem, manic/depressive episodes, violent tendencies, suicidal tendencies, stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviors, gross ways to show affection, slight insinuation of pervy Tim, blood, mutilation, harm to reader mentioned, self-harm, severed body parts, drugging, gaslighting.

YAAAAYYYYYYYYY, TIM DRAKE TIME!!!! This is so long overdue. I’ve been meaning to write for him, but… it just hasn’t happened yet. I hope the ideas will start flowing after I get some of this off my chest. I’ve been harboring so many miscellaneous Tim thoughts for a while.

(Y’all. The CW on this just kept getting longer and longer. My bad.)

First thing’s first, Tim is a fucking mess. There’s no way to know for sure which version of him you’re gonna get each day. Maybe he’s going through a manic episode, coming up with batshit crazy schemes and going on about things that don’t make sense. Maybe he’ll then swing into a depressive fit, where he can’t even bring himself to get up from the floor. Maybe he wakes up completely fine after an hour long nap, regretting whatever initial brash decisions he made. Maybe he quickly turns violent at the sound of knocking at his door. Maybe he wants to claw his own arteries out after trying to maintain a normal social interaction.

The possibilities are endless! Which makes him extremely dangerous.

If you’ve caught the eye of Tim Drake… yikes. Good luck. There’s a chance you don’t even know who he is before he inevitably kidnaps you (completely on a whim, no less). Maybe you’re a total stranger he saw on the street once, captivating him and causing him to spiral into a twisted obsession. While I’ll defend Tim against the fandom allegations until my lungs give out, I’ll admit: they’re on to something when it comes to stalker Tim. Bro definitely has pictures of you covering every square inch of his walls. And, yes, it’s to the point where they overlap each other.

Kidnapping can take anywhere between 3 days and 3 years. During that time, he may try to weasel his way into your life in an attempt to win you over... though we all know how well that would go. As I’ve mentioned before, he may be attractive, but he’s such an off-putting person. Just being around him is enough to give you the creeps. And it doesn’t help he’s completely unaware of how weird some behaviors are. Tim... honey… you can’t shamelessly stare at people with a startling grin like that. I know you’re thinking about how much you want to lick your darling-to-be’s neck, but it’s weird.

Whether he attempts to interact with you or not, one thing’s for sure: he’s stealing your shit. Clothes, toothbrushes, half-eaten food, straws, whatever he can get his hands on. Don’t ask what he does with it. You don’t wanna know. Tim is a neeeaaaasty freak, to the point where even he thinks to himself, “what the fuck is wrong with me” after he calms down from a fit.

Oh, speaking of guilt, Tim is filled with that shit. He may swing from various stages of instability, but there are moments where he’s perfectly fine. And those are the moments where he has to grapple with the consequences of his own actions. Those can range from slightly scaring someone to causing irreversible damage. There have been many times where he snapped out of some episode with blood dribbling down hands and chunks of skin under his fingernails. Who did he hurt? Could be someone else, could be himself, could be you. Who knows!!

Let’s actually get into his suicidal tendencies a bit. His arms and legs are covered in scratches and cuts. Now, this could be explained by his vigilante life, but it gets harder to justify when you get to the bite marks at angles that only make sense if they were self-inflicted. Oh, and also the carvings of your name. He does that a lot. It’s like you’re with him everywhere he goes!! And kind of on the same note, he wants you to have him with you as well!! This could come in the form of strips of skin, vials of blood, toes, an eye, an ear, a spleen… just whatever he’s willing to cut off or out of himself in the moment.

His suicidal tendencies are also connected to those moments of guilt I mentioned before. After calming down and realizing what he’s done, he may harm himself as some sort of penance; especially if he’s done something to you. Depending on how far he spirals from his guilt, he may actually enact “an eye for an eye” (perhaps in the most literal sense) to help make up for what he’s done. Who knows, maybe he’ll replace missing pieces of you with his own. Will it work? No idea. Maybe a skin graph or two, but let’s hope you don’t have to find things out in the more extreme cases.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that Tim Drake is just generally fucked-up. “Normal” Tim doesn’t mean “completely well-adjusted” Tim, it just means he’s not acting on some manic or brash decision. Normal Tim would be fine with chaining or drugging you if he’s justified it to himself. As long as he’s not causing active physical harm to you, he probably won’t see anything wrong with whatever he’s doing in the long run. It’s for your own good, okay? Don’t worry, he’s gone through the possibilities and failsafes. Nothing bad will happen to you!

Unfortunately, manic Tim does not go through the possibilities and failsafes. Well, he kind of does, but the logic is far from realistic and runs in total circles. Whereas drugging you has a rational (fucked up, but still rational) reason behind it — to keep you immobile — filling your ear canal with cement takes some mental gymnastics. Manic Tim doesn’t want you to listen to anyone else. Solution? You can’t hear through concrete, right? At that point, you’re at the mercy of his mood swing RNG. Let’s hope he calms down enough to take a step back and really think about this. Hmm… filling someone’s ears with cement… probably not healthy. Wow. Silly Tim! He let himself get carried away, didn’t he? Whoops! There are more logical ways to keep you from listening to anyone else.

That’s where manipulation comes in. I mean, come on. Y’all know who his mentor is, right? Stable Tim is wicked good at manipulation. Huh? He’s acting weird? Well, he didn’t want to say anything, but he was actually thinking the same thing about you. Yeah, you’ve been kind of off lately… is there something wrong? You sure? You know he’s there for you, right? Okay, just making sure. A gaslighting king when he’s in the right headspace for it. Too bad his psychotic aura gives him away; he’d probably be really good at keeping up appearances if he just got medicated or something.

So… yeah. Just some Tim thoughts. What a charmer, amiright? I don’t think this one’s salvageable. No amount of therapy could ever fix whatever Tim’s got going on. Just throw the whole damn guy away. Start over. Your only hope of escaping him is the chance of someone on the outside realizing what’s up. Here’s to hoping Tim gets institutionalized before he does something really bad!!

[sunny-knight]

Oh right. The other one.

CW: Undertale rant/analysis

Ive played Undertale- hundreds of times. and lately ive reflected on how the game is supposed to make you feel IN THE MOMENT- since ive kinda forgotten a lot of that. Because of the aforementioned ✨“hundreds of times”✨

Everything ofc still feels just as captivating, but nothings surprising because im not playing it from the perspective of someone who has absolutely no idea whats going to happen next. Sometimes I overlook and forget how the little details are supposed to make you feel/think about the characters. Like how Undyne is implied to be an abusive boss. After you get to know her, then replay, you hear how Papyrus talks about her at first, and see their interaction as you enter Waterfall, and you completely understand!

But BEFORE- youre like “oooohhh she’s threatening him-“

On this topic, I rewatched some playthroughs, and saw their first reactions to geno papyrus death, and I realized. that this room placement. IS SO COOL!!!!

Normally its like- yep! I just befriended/beat papyrus, time to continue on my way- oo hi sans! sure, ill go to Grillbys with you! Even on replays, you’re not really excepting him in any room hes in, im just like “oh yep, theres the man.”

But when you kill Papyrus for the first time, usually on a geno route. That same thing kicks in. You’re not predicting him to be there cause youre focused on the room youre in currently, but when you GET THERE youre like “oh yeah and thats where Sans is” but he’s NOT THERE and you stop for a millisecond and go “oh, no yeah, that makes sense.”

…the silence doesn’t help either.

Its worse that he’s all over the underground too, not just in the start of Waterfall. Even not seeing him in front of the mtt resort is just a slap in the face 😭

If youve gotten to the phase of killing people on purpose to see what will happen, youve also gotten to the phase of KNOWING theres gonna be consequences, so Sans not being there shoudnt hit as hard as it does BUT IT DOES (at least for me)

The typical reactions to Monster death in general that you cant avoid are Undyne and Sans’ speeches, and neutral run phonecalls. DIALOGUE. things that appear because of what you did. But with Sans its not what he does or says (up until the judgment hall) its what he doesn’t do.

He doesn’t bother to show up, to say anything to you because what is there to say??? Ignoring how personal it is for a sec- Sans knows this isnt your first time playing, but doesn’t comment on it (much). Right now he still believes the anomaly just wants to be happy, so gives the benefit of the doubt.

That is until you kill the dude that is impossible to kill on accident, or argue in self defense.

Now Sans knows the anomaly just wants to know what will happen. Doesn’t care if its bad or not, they’re just curious, so theres no point.

STILL he wants them to reset and do something ELSE so he halfway pleads with them in the judgment hall to rethink what they’ve done. The fact that he asks an answerable question feels important to me, like hes searching for something, ANY reason. But maybe hes trying to make you see that- there was no reason. Youre DUMB and you should RESET because- WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS????

What I also find really powerful even on replays, is the silence after he drops lines like this. Especially the judgment hall question. Sometimes I do sit there and soak in the silence like- “jesus. Yeah, why DID i do that?”

My main point of this entire thing is, I LOVE this game, I LOVE Papyrus and his impact on the game even when he isnt there, and I wish I could play it for the first time again, and fall in love with it all over again, but alas, hitting myself with a rock to screw up my memory only works 17% of the time,

so im happy enough sticking with changing my perspective, and taking a moment to remember what it felt like to accidentally kill toriel and realize your actions have consequences, to beat Undyne the Undying, to hug Asriel, to hear that Undertale was getting a “sequel”, and to hear that dreaded line, “Then why did you kill my brother.” all for the first time again.

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

November's Naughty and Nice Stories

Day 13: A Little TLC

Stan Pines x Reader fluff

*Does contain language, and some description of throwing up*

Sitting at the counter, staring at the clock, waiting for the day to just wrap up, Stan came up behind you, and scared you back to life.

"Waddaya think you're doin'!?? Loafin' around, gathering flies with that dead stare! Get wor- cough, cough, cough-" he began hacking up a storm, putting his hands on his knees, then trying to compose himself again.

"Uh, Stan, you aren't looking too great. Don't you think you might be getting sick?" you said, looking a little concerned, as his face looked pretty red from all the coughing.

"Ack," he said, clearing phlegm from his throat," I ain't got the time to be sick! I'm Mr. Mystery, and Mr. Mystery --" and he puked on the floor, and you jumped.

"Stan! Holy shit!" And you grabbed plastic bags from the counter, seeing him puke...pink glitter? You shook your head, and dropped in front of him, guiding him to heave in there instead.

"Stan, we need to at least get you upstairs to bed! I'll call Soos in a little bit, but I need you to lean on me, and throw up in the bag if you're gonna do it again!" And you could see his poor face was sweating and pale. You climbed the steps with him, as he kept talking and tried not to gag.

"Oh, babe... Y'know I'm good....I'm Mr. Mys-" he swallowed hard, and glanced at you. "Wow...You're strong....And really cute...I always think that shit, but... I figure....I figure...Blaaaa-" he went into the bag again.

The man was delirious. He is ill, and loopy, and yet, hitting on me. Huh, he's got balls, you thought. No, he's just sick. You pushed the thought out, and got him to his room. You got him plopped on the bed, and talked him through it. You were going to have to get most of that off him, and lay him on his side.

"Stan, I'm going to undress you, and get you down to your underwear or whatever. You need to cool down, and lay on your side after that. You could drown in puke this sick."

"Oooooo...Getting to third base....And you...haven't taken me to....dinner. Whatta naughty....thing."

"Yeah, whatever ya old pervert. Let's get this stuff off you," and you helped him along, like a doll.

The jacket, then dress shirt, then shoes, pants, and finally, after 15 minutes, the girdle. You popped his fez off, and he thankfully didn't vomit during the process. You laid him on his side, and found a bucket from the hallway, and got him a cold wash cloth. He shivered a little, but he had some color back in his face, but was still sweating.

"Alright, Stan, you look a little better, so I'm going downstairs, and I'm going to close up, and let Soos know you are sick, and, I don't know. I'll be right back."

He looked up at you, his eyes misty. "Thank you. Sorry, hon."

Huh, he was being polite, definitely delirious, but hey, a broken clock is right twice a day. "Stan, you're sick. I'm not going to just let you feel like this and be alone, sick as a dog." And you went downstairs.

You made calls to Soos and the local pharmacy, and went to town to grab meds, soup, another blanket, crackers, cat litter for the puke, and ginger ale. You got back, and he was sleeping, but he left a note in terrible handwriting.

Sooooorry I'm an asshole.

Xo. Xo

Stan

You had to laugh a little, the poor guy was just out of it. Probably something going around as the temperature dropped, along with some weird food he ate. You set everything down, got some ice for the ginger ale, then grabbed a blanket and pillow from the next room over, and propped yourself a little ways from him.

"Goodnight Stan...I'm here if you need me."

The next morning...

You woke up before Stan, and crept to him, feeling his head. No fever or sweating now. And he must have got some ginger ale in the night. It was half drank, so he was at least hydrated. He actually did look really sweet sleeping, and not smelling like puke. You snuck out, and called Soos, then made some soup with crackers on the side.

When you went back up, he was at least awake. He was rubbing his head and smiled weakly at you. "Hey, sweetie...."

"Hey Stan, how are you feeling today?"

"A bit better. The old gut just ain't up for handlin' the concoction Mabel left in the summer."

"The WHAT?" you said, confused and peeved.

"Well, I was thirsty, and ran outta Pitt in the fridge, so I may have took a few swigs...." he said nervously, as you pressed your fingers into the bridge of your nose.

"Stan Fucking Pines, that bottle of....I don't even know is...I don't know! You may as well have drank paint thinner! If you weren't so sick still, I'd slap you." And you were very tempted to actually do it.

"Oooooo, didya worry about me?" he said, swatting his eyes at you as you rolled them so far back you almost saw your brain. "You like me a little."

"Stan, you were delirious yesterday," you told him, your cheeks getting pink from his taunting. "I was trying to be nice and all, and there you go-"

"Ya know I remember, right? You're strong and cute. Is it a crime to say that, even if I'm a crook? I just wanted to let you know in case somethin' really was up," as he turned his head to the window.

"Oh. Well, I do like you too, a little more than like, but I still want to slap you."

And he turned and looked back at you with a shit eat grin. "Ooooooo, I might like it, babe."

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 7 - The Pilgrimmage Begins

Previous Chapter

request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏

warnings: warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, implied suggestive stuff but nothing actually happens, traveller uses they/them pronouns anyway but I haven't picked which twin is here yet... talks about the dead (Mavuika's sister)

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

Chasca's character teaser made me want to sob so you get this early.

The Pilgrimage started in two days, and you hadn't spoken to Chasca since the argument, while Chuychu came to check on you not long after Xilonen left for her meeting with the archon.

"She's cooling down. Just give her some time. It took a lot for her not to storm the Speaker's Chambers..." Chuychu admitted with a tired sigh.

"Well, I need her not to charge in there any time soon. Mavuika invited me to stay with her instead of the Inn. I'd rather not have a heart attack from her storming in while I'm asleep." You replied, playing with Chuychu's fingers, that tensed at the moment you admitted to staying with Mavuika.

"That guy from the Masters of the Night-Wind, Oronon, asked about you. Said you weren't home when Ifa went to drop round some vegetables and aphid honey." Your sister changed the subject, her eyes wandering around the room, before settling on what you had been working on when she arrived.

"I forgot about that. Ifa started bringing food over after that saurian Chasca was fostering for him ate my plants." You confessed, shaking your head at the memory. It was only when you realised what Chuychu was looking at that you moved your hands to shield it.

"It's not, it's not finished!" you let out a groan, your attempt to hide the project were halfhearted at best, but your sister just huffed at you. She treated you differently to Chasca, while she would pick fights with her older sister to make her blow off steam and watch her abyssal illness, she was softer with you. She had to be, ever since Chasca made you cry that one time when you were all a lot younger.

But that time was resolved with food, and promises to play together. Now, Chuychu was unsure how to resolve the issues. Chasca wasn't even mad at you anymore, she was just uncomfortable with the situation at hand. Her youngest sister and the pyro archon together... even Chuychu hadn't expected that, but you had been spending a lot of time with the archon back when she first became the pyro archon...

"It's a record. You, Chasca, me, our parents... Mavuika is there too, but I'm making a separate one for her. She deserves it, with everything that rests on her. Natlan's fate rests on her shoulders, it's a lot..." you trailed off, realising you were toeing the line of what nobody but the six ancient name bearers and Mavuika should know.

"You're preserving her legacy, and our family's legacy. Has something happened with Mavuika? You're not usually this sentimental when it comes to history, and that's saying something-"

"Do not blame hormones, I'm only eight weeks- can we continue this conversation after I go pee?"

Chuychu held back a chuckle, nodding as you hurried off to the bathroom.

"Chuychu? I have not seen you in a while. Do you have business with me, or are you here to see your sister?" Mavuika's voice in the speaker's chamber should not be uncommon, but the god of war had not been expecting Chuychu in her private chambers, not without you present at least.

"She's in the bathroom." Your older sister held back a grimace at her voice, trying not to show disrespect to her archon, but it was hard now she knew of another side to her, "Apologies, archon, for my tone."

"It's fine, Chuychu. I know it was not what you or your sister expected when finding out your youngest sister was dating someone. Let alone, having a baby." Mavuika smiled softly as you walked in, heading into her awaiting arms.

The silence was almost awkward, well, it was awkward for Chuychu, until she noticed how at peace you were with your lover.

"I'm going to head out and check on my patients. Treat my baby sister right, archon. And you, drink some water. You've been drinking enough xocoatl that you've probably surpassed Xilonen." Chuychu bid the two of you farewell, giving you a warning look as Mavuika chuckled. Clearly your xocoatl craving was getting out of hand.

"I'll see to it." Mavuika stated, much to the look on your face that disagreed with the taste of water at the moment.

"Water doesn't taste good." You pouted, your fingers playing haphazardly with the zipper of Mavuika's bodysuit.

"My love, what are you doing?" Mavuika hummed in amusement as you continued to play with her zipper.

"You smell better than the food Chuychu tried to give me... and I missed you, we finally have some time to ourselves before the Pilgrimage in two days..." you trailed off, but whatever you had in mind, was not what Mavuika expected, as she ended up with you asleep with your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

She watched as your eyelids fluttered, hearing your soft breathing, in and out, in and out...

"Feels too early for so many people to know..." your voice interrupted her thoughts, burying your face in her exposed collarbone, having tugged the zipper down enough for the skin-on-skin contact to be enough for you.

Mavuika hummed, gently brushing an eyelash from your cheek.

"Can I stay here? During everything... I feel safer here, like the flame is watching over, or it's you, I feel safe around you. Maybe both?" your half-awake rambles trailed off as you frowned to yourself, missing how Mavuika's face lit up at what you said.

"You may stay as long as you want, my love. Besides, it's not like you aren't well-versed with your surroundings here." Mavuika chuckled, recalling how many times the two of you had been around the stadium together, whether you were meeting for official meetings, sneaking in between her meetings, or spending the night in the archon's bed...

"Hehe, well... at least you can't get me any more pregnant..." you mumbled, knowing that would be a poor defensive argument to have with your sisters, if it came to it. Shaking your head, you changed the subject, "there are rumours of the golden outlander coming to Natlan next... it's that time of year again."

"I see... honestly, I have been awaiting the day with grave importance. I plan to give offer them Natlan's highest form of hospitality, after everything they have done in each nation so far. The Traveller is a tremendously skilled warrior after all."

"The Traveller? Is that what everyone calls them? Is everyone just being lazy and not calling them their actual name? That's like calling our child, 'the child' instead of their name... but it's too early to think about that." You began to complain, but your voice became muffled as you buried your face in Mavuika's bare chest, much to her amusement.

"Every rumour and story we've heard from anyone visiting seems to refer to them by a different title." Mavuika agreed, her breath hitching as you moved to press a kiss to her collarbone, continuing down to her sternum. Her hand cradled the back of your head, preventing you from going further, much to her reluctance.

"We should be having dinner soon, and unfortunately, my love, eating me does not count." The pyro archon listened to her better judgement this time, despite the pout on your lips at your activities being ceased.

"Am I not allowed to indulge myself in a snack?"

"And you once called me the Archon of Horniess..." Mavuika grumbled, shifting slightly to try reduce the hot feeling flickering across her body. You got under her skin so easily, just from a few kisses-

"Can we have chocolate?" you watched Mavuika's face crinkle up in confusion.

"For dinner?"

You hummed in thought, "with xocoatl?"

"Ah, you heard Chuychu's warning about that, my darling-"

"Ugh, fine. I'll have a forest of colour salad!" you grumbled, folding your arms as you tried to rack your brain for foods you could eat. So many Natlanese recipes had ingredients that you had been warned against...

"What about blazed meat stew?" your lover enquired, tapping her finger to her chin as she tried to think over options.

"Heartburn..." you winced at the thought, giving up and laying down on Mavuika's chest again.

///

The day of the pilgrimmage was almost here, with teams gathering in the stadium entrance to sign up. Preparations were underway, while Mavuika was out and about, Chasca and Chuychu were also busy, leaving you to peacefully sleep in Mavuika's bed after your check-up. Although it was technically a conflict of interest for Chuychu to be your doctor, as your sister, but the situation was sensitive, and the first trimester was full of risk, your sister's goal was as low a risk pregnancy as she could give you. She kept you calm when Mavuika couldn't...

The rumours of the golden outlander and their silver floating companion reached you that evening, when Mavuika returned to join you in bed, holding you close as you listened to her talk about her day.

"I have ensured that they will serve many foods you can safely pick from at the banquets for the Pilgrimmage. If you wish to attend, of course... I know you have had little energy recently." Mavuika's fingers gently drew patterns on your back, listening to each breath you took. In and out. In and out.

"I miss Chasca... Chuychu is still around but, she says Chasca will calm down, I just hope it's before the baby is born, but that's so far from now..." you began to ramble quietly, before your thoughts changed, "I'm glad you're here..." you whispered, eyes cracking open to look at Mavuika's sunshine eyes, a soft smile on her face as you gazed up at her.

"I am too, my darling." Mavuika whispered, pressing kiss after kiss to your face, peppering you in them as you began to giggle and squirm.

"You and your sisters will settle down again... from what I can tell, Chasca isn't angry at either of us anymore, judging from how she was cordial when I saw her. I think, although I can make no assumptions, I believe Chasca isn't sure how to approach you after everything..." Mavuika theorised, her heart aching at these sisterly issues. It reminded her of Hine, and how Mavuika had not been there to defend her sister from possible suitors.

Your silence led to Mavuika glancing down, noticing how you were looking up at her with a soft expression, "my sisters and I... we remind you and Hine."

Your archon hummed, closing her eyes as you began to play with her hair.

"My love, you've stopped eating the Saurian treats that were given to you, right?" you felt Mavuika tense up, her body flushing with heat as she realised she had been caught.

"Uh, yes, I went out to find some wild saurians to give them some, since they were a little dry and-"

"Baby, those were for baby saurians... which I found out after dipping them in xocoatl." You admitted, gaining Mavuika's attention as her eyes widened.

"You ate them too?"

"There's nothing in them that could affect me, Chuychu checked, then she realised they were for saurians after." Biting your lip as Mavuika began to chuckle, her nose brushing yours as she leaned in to show you affection.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

///

"My heart, it's the morning. The Pilgrimmage begins soon. How do you feel?" Mavuika gently woke you, pressing her lips to your forehead as you whined, reaching out for her in determination for her to come back to bed.

"How do you feel?" your voice was hoarse, full of sleep as you sat up, regretting it as the nausea hit you, flailing with the covers to hurry to the bathroom of Mavuika's chambers.

"I guess that answers that question..." Mavuika muttered to herself as she rubbed your back comfortingly, having gotten used to your morning sickness by now. If you were lucky, it would taper off by the end of your first trimester, but you had to get there first.

"Let's get you sorted... it doesn't start yet, so I have time for you, before my duties as the archon." Mavuika cooed, helping you from the floor once you were finished, letting her help you get ready before she had to head out.

There was an offer to sit in the audience of the stadium, so you decided to attend the opening ceremony, sitting down with a cushion beneath you as you waited, hoping to get a glimpse of your sister, who would be competing today.

"Hello! Paimon's Paimon, and this is the Traveller, are we okay to sit with you?" a floating silver creature asked, as an individual cloaked in gold stood behind her, looking at you.

"Sure. It's nice to meet you both. I'm-" you cut yourself off, spotting Mavuika stand up from her throne, a throne that made you blush to think about. It was well hidden however, as the swirling pyro energy heated up the stadium, your lover displaying her use of the flames, as her hair ignited, and she began her speech.

"Skill, strategy, fortune, form... many factors influence strength, but victory never lies. The Pilgrimmage is not merely a trial to determine the strongest among us, but also a stage upon which to showcase your individual growth. Today marks the beginning of yet another legendary saga - one written in the triumphs of the victors! So, without further ado... let the games begin!" Mavuika announced as a horn sounded.

"So, that's the pyro archon? Is it just Paimon or does she seem kinda intimidating?" Paimon enquired, frowning at the amused smile on your face.

"She's been practicing that speech for a while now. You're free to talk to her, just leave it until after the games." You interrupted Paimon talking about how Mavuika was an ordinary person before becoming the Archon. To you, Mavuika was extraordinary... Archon or not.

"Oh, look! It's Kachina and the others!" Paimon shouted, but your eyes lingered on Chasca, and the Flower-Feather clan members you were avoiding, who were chanting her name.

"Um... hey, golden outlander, I know everyone calls you 'the Traveller' but... anyway, could you help me up please? I need to pee again..." you felt your face burn red as the legendary blonde traveller raised an eyebrow, but didn't hesitate to help you up, watching you walk away. The only thing on the Traveller's mind... 'again'?

Mavuika kept an eye on you in the crowds, watching as you were helped up and headed off, almost confusing her until she realised where you were heading. "Of course... the bathroom." She chuckled to herself, before redirecting her attention to the finishing teams stage. Chasca's team had won, so had Kinich's, Iansan's... and the team of Mualani and Kachina too.

///

(a/n: also is anyone interested in other fics, I have at least two written that I haven't posted, one is for Jeht x AFAB!reader, one is Arlecchino x gn!reader, another is Xilonen x AFAB!reader but that's not finished… I also wrote a Mavuika request I had. Arguably it's not so detailed that you could say it fits in this universe but it can be read separately.)

[cavejebus]

my adam playlist is about 20 songs now, so im gonna post it even though it is still a WORK IN PROGRESS!!!! ill add onto it when i wanna ofc, but i just wanna share a lil bit of my visionnn <3 expect a lot of linkin park lmao

some songs might not show up on the tumblr preview so i highly recommend going to the actual playlist if you have spotify!!

and batuta din moldova is there too cuz why not

below is a few categories and explanations for most songs!!!

ANGSTY SHIT

songs I thought either the lyrics or vibe had something to do with his angst... usually has to do with his background, during the trap, after the trap (whether he survived or not), or just headcanons :P

1. paper cuts - nirvana

"my whole existence is for your amusement", "why do they not try to escape?"

i THINK this song is about this dude who is like, in a really shitty kidnapping situation.... or something idk don't quote me on that :P it gives off the vibe of how it must've felt being in the bathroom all alone :( waiting for his boyfriend to save him :(

2. pictures of me - elliot smith

"you'll be the victim of your own dirty tricks", "i'm not surprised at all and really, why should i be?", "so sick and tired of all these pictures of me")

i like the whole pictures tie in.. the song isn't rlly about this, but some lyrics seem like how he would feel about being in a trap. like "I'm not surprised jigsaw chose me for this, my life is shit!!" ofc that would be if he knew who jigsaw was beforehand....... self deprecating shit yknow

3. given up - linkin park

"stuck in my head again//feels like i'll never leave this place//there's no escape", "thought i was focused, but I'm scared//i'm not prepared", "i hyperventilate//looking for help somehow, somewhere//and no one cares"

OK so first quote from this that I chose is like, how he sees his life as some useless "live to die" type thing, then the next quotes are how he realizes that he REALLY doesn't wanna die at the end of the trap. despite his whole "my life is shit I hate my job yadda yadda" talk, he still begs for his life once it's really in danger!!!

4. black heart - stone temple pilots w/ chester benningtion

"rescue me//(If you don't mind)"

lawrence......rescue this bitch....... ok but this song is mostly vibes, it can have angsty vibes :P

5. go with the flow - queens of the stone age

"she said, "i'll throw myself away//they're just photos after all", "i can't make you hang around//i can't wash you off my skin"

MORE PHOTO STUFF!!!!!! love it when it all ties in......... for the second quote its kind of a chainshipping thing... i cant make you hang around, adam goin "don't leave me!!!!" and i cant wash you off my skin, lawrence left his frickin bloody handprint on adams face.... oughh

6. and one - linkin park

"left all alone//far from my home//no one to hear me, to heal my ill heart", "it's too late to love me now//you don't even know me"

this song just generally gives angsty adam vibes, but the second quote is TOTALLY CHAINSHIPPING..... like they literally just met but already have such a connection since they went thru all that SHIT. but uh its too late for them to live a happy normal life together cuz lawrence never came back womp womp!! i can see adam sitting there waiting like "he don't even know me why tf would he come backk"

VIBES/STUFF HE'D LIKE

whether its based off of whatever tf he was listening to in his headphones that one time, or just based off of the time... i think his music taste would generally be pretty vast, while still staying around nu metal and alternative rock

1. one step closer, papercut, don't stay - linkin park

its 2001, hybrid theory has been release and is already fairly popular, i'd assume :P plus I think he'd favor linkin park since they've got a lot of complexity, as opposed to some mindless nu metal around that time

2. guns (are for pussies), down - 311

AGAIN with the rap x rock wtf!!!! he also like, cares about politics and probably trash talks all those gun loving dummies

3. brain stew - green day

who tf doesnt like this song... but it is about rotting in your room and he probably does that often <3

4. break stuff - limp bizkit

DO I HAVE TO SAY WHY I PUT THIS ONE???? ITS BREAK STUFF LIMP BIZKIT COME ON!!!!

5. the fear (flipped) - the shins

honestly have no idea why, but its giving adam!!! dunno what the song is about, but i glanced at the lyrics mentioned a bong and i was like "haha adam smokes weed"

6. tired of sex - weezer

he would like pinkerton, but i kinda only like this song off of it :P i don't listen to much weezer

7. blister in the sun, kiss off - violent femmes

i kinda just wanted to add in the acoustic sounding shit, but i do think adam would listen to violent femmes!! and you should too!!!

8. break it to me - muse

have y'all noticed that he kinda lied a lot during the trap? sure he isn't a good liar, but he seems like he's cool with lying for whatever reason... i just kinda picked this one cuz i needed to add some muse and the song kinda says shit about lying and stuff idk!!

CHAINSHIPPING SHIT

other than the angsty chainshipping in the "angsty shit" category, these just have cutesy lil lawrence x adam stuff <3 sorry to SHOVE chainshipping down your throat but whatever love is love

1. add it up - violent femmes

not specifying which lyric even though there IS one, i'm just embarrassed to say <3 but uh the only thing stopping them from making out sloppy style on top of john kramer was their chains :P

again, i WILL be adding more to this :3 but here's just my thoughts for now. im TOTES not just projecting my music taste onto adam hahahahhhhahahhahahhhaaa he's just so ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry if none of this makes sense!!!